Lilith’s gaze hardened. “You have no idea what you’re asking. How much you’ll regret it.”
No idea? Now they were going to tell her what she did and didn’t know? What she felt?
Taylor knew exactly what she felt. The eggshell wasn’t hollow. Rage boiled inside. That thin layer had just kept her from exploding.
Now it began to crack.
Her fists balled at her thighs. “What should I regret, Lilith? Let me tell you what being a Guardian has brought to me. No, no—let me start with the last time I was in danger and Michael tried to protect me. Let’s start with how well that turned out.”
“But Khavi was right, wasn’t she?” Lilith’s smile was a scythe. “She said a vampire would kill you and one did.”
“Oh, she was right. Because she let it happen and made fucking sure she was right! But yes, let’s talk about Khavi, too. When I met her, the first thing she said to me was that my brother would never wake up. Isn’t that so kind? Like ‘Hi, nice to meet you. Let me stab you in the face!’ But she’s not done fucking with my head and foreseeing my future. Because although Michael decides he’s protecting me, he leaves me in her care when he goes off to fight some dragon across the world. And she tells me, ‘He was going to fall in love with you, but now he’s not.’”
“That sounds like the kind of thing a demon would say.” And Lilith would know. “You are aware that she’s a liar?”
“Yes! That’s the fucking point. She said it while I was on my way to the house where she’d seen that I’d be killed. But she disappears just before the vampire shoots me, even though she knows it’s about to happen and she could stop it. So that when Michael shows up and kisses me without telling me that he’s forcing his way into my brain by sticking his tongue into my mouth, I’ll think it’s because he gives a fuck. But no. He knew this would be happening, too, because he was all ready to have those symbols carved into him, link me to him. He was all ready for me to die, even though he was supposed to be protecting me. And you expect me to trust that protection again now? He’ll probably just cut me open and sacrifice me to Lucifer himself.”
Another dark, icy press against her shields. His voice came from just behind her. “Andromeda—”
“I’m not done, Michael!” She had no interest in listening to more lies. They thought she didn’t know her own mind? It was a miracle that she did so well. It was a miracle that she still had a mind left. “I’m waiting for Lilith to tell me exactly what I’m supposed to be regretting. Because the human experience with Guardians was pretty fucking bad, but it’s just beginning. One of the first things I do after I’m transformed is stick a sword through a friend’s back because Michael has decided to go on a path of vengeance on my behalf—even though I never asked him to and begged for him to stop. And after that he promises not to take over my head anymore, as if my free will might matter. But when Khavi takes two people to Hell and leaves them for Lucifer, he forces me away again when I try to save them, even though I’m screaming for him not to take me. Because he’s protecting me. But he doesn’t stop Khavi from beating me down when I try to save Nicholas and Ash, and when they come back from Hell, Nicholas’s guts are sewn up with fucking barbed wire. Oh, and don’t forget that after I offer myself up as bait, Michael decides that he’ll torture me by eating me, then forces me to crawl up all over him like I’m going to fuck him—because raping my brain just isn’t enough. Then that fun trip is topped off by Khavi stabbing a spear through my chest. So, hey. You think that I don’t know what I’m saying? I’m saying that when I compare fifty more years of a human life to an eternity of the shit I’ve gotten as a Guardian, dying sooner looks pretty fucking good!”
Her eyes gleaming, Lilith looked beyond Taylor. “I don’t think dying looks good at any time. Killing does, though.”
Killing Michael? Someone else could. Taylor didn’t want to have anything to do with him.
With effort, she reined in her temper. “But I’m not you, and you’re not choosing for me. I’m done with that,” she finished tightly. “And I’m going to Fall.”
“I get it. Michael screwed you over. Khavi screwed you over. Now you’re going to screw them over,” Lilith said. “But there’s a better way to do it.”
Taylor shook her head. This wasn’t about screwing anyone. She didn’t care what Michael or Khavi thought about her Falling. She just wanted out of this.
“I will not transform you now,” Michael said, and Taylor closed her eyes. Each word seemed underscored by a gentle apology and a promise not to hurt her.
She’d heard his promises before.
Shaking off the effect of his voice, Taylor focused on the painting again. “I’ve served,” she told him. “That’s why you let Anthony Ramsdell become human again, wasn’t it? He found a loophole. The Doyen Scrolls said—the scrolls that you wrote in your own freaking blood—they said a Guardian could go on to judgment anytime before the hundred years of training was up, but the option to Fall was added as a reward for service after the hundred years was over. Well, you sent him back to Earth early to help Colin and his sister, so he technically served. And I’ve served, too.”
“You are mistaken. I let him Fall because his blood was tainted, and he could never have become a full-fledged Guardian.”
A brittle smile touched her mouth. “Well, guess what? As far as everyone is concerned, my blood is tainted, too.”
“There are other reasons.” The heat of his body suddenly warmed her back, his inhalation stirring her hair. “But we won’t discuss them here.”
Taylor stiffened. Oh, shit. But she wasn’t fast enough—and Michael was the same bastard that he’d been in her head. Without asking, he grabbed her up and teleported away.
* * *
The world spun. Sick and dizzy, Taylor clung to the solid form beside her to keep from falling over.
Clinging to Michael, she realized. He was holding her steady, his arm wrapped around her waist, her side pressed to his. She staggered, pulling away from him. His grip tightened.
“Don’t touch me,” she rasped.
He released her waist, but didn’t let go. His hand settled against her lower back. “You cannot even stand—”
“Don’t touch me!”
The ground heaved. Taylor stumbled forward. Her knees cracked against stone pavers. She caught herself before her head slammed into a broken pillar and pushed shakily to her feet. Massive marble blocks piled around her. Above, the sun glared at her from a brilliant blue sky. Water glinted on the horizon.
Caelum. Michael had brought her to the Guardians’ realm. Was it still falling apart? But the ground seemed steady now. And Michael was—
Holy shit.
A giant marble hand pinned Michael against a shattered temple wall. The wrist melded smoothly into the pavers; its palm and fingers caged him, as if they’d slammed him back against the marble and held him there. The wall behind him had cracked. Michael stared at her from over the marble thumb, his eyes fully obsidian. His clenched jaw appeared as hard as the stone.
Stunned, Taylor shook her head. Was that even real? But the hand was still there when she opened her eyes again.
“Andromeda.” Pain roughened his voice. “Can you release me?”
Release him? Understanding hit her. The hand had pushed Michael away after she’d yelled at him to let her go—and Gifts often manifested in times of emotional stress and need.
“Did I do this?” But she must have. “Is this my Gift? I control marble—or stone?”
“No. This was Caelum.”
The realm? “It attacked you?”
“No. She listened to you.” His hand pushed between the fingers and gripped the marble. The thick muscles in his arm flexed. The tendons in his neck stood in sharp relief as he strained. Abruptly, he stopped and shook his head. “I cannot break Caelum’s stone now. I would need my sword.”
The flaming sword that could cut through rock. “So you’re trapped?”
His gaze met hers. “If yo
u wish, you may avenge yourself now.”
And just punch him or shoot him while a giant hand held him motionless? Maybe he deserved it, but it wouldn’t change anything—and it wouldn’t make Taylor feel better. “I don’t want to even deal with you.”
“Then will you release me?”
She had no idea how. And maybe that would be what he deserved: she could leave him here and return to Earth through the Gates. One of the portals would take her right back to headquarters.
But she couldn’t do that, either. Damn it.
She started toward him. “Do I need to rip you out of there or something?”
“No.”
Michael vanished. Almost instantly, he appeared next to her—but not too close. So he’d finally gotten the message to stay away.
And he obviously hadn’t really been trapped at all. Had he pretended so that he could offer her that opportunity for revenge? It would have been meaningless anyway. He could just heal himself.
More manipulation. But where was her anger at? Taylor tried to drum it up and couldn’t, as if the shock of seeing that marble hand had burned it away.
At least she wasn’t afraid anymore. She looked up at him, at the hardness of his face and the terrifying strength, and she didn’t tremble.
He watched her in return, his obsidian eyes lightening to amber. “I will teach you how to sing to her.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Caelum. She has chosen you as her voice. She is yours. You are hers.”
Her voice? “But I can’t sing.”
A smile bent the carved edges of his mouth. “She will not judge.”
No, but Caelum wasn’t going to look any better than this if the city depended on Taylor’s voice to bring it back. “Khavi said it fell apart because you did. Because of the torture. And the realm was a reflection of you.”
“Yes. I couldn’t hold on to her. So she chose another.”
Yet the realm was still in pieces. Taylor turned, her gaze sweeping over the city. Behind her, Michael’s own temple lay in a huge pile of shattered marble blocks, the columns toppled against each other like scattered matchsticks. The stairs had cracked and buckled. All of Caelum was the same. Just ruins and rubble, surrounded by an endless sea.
A great weight lodged in her chest, making it difficult to speak. “And now this is me?”
Broken. Shattered.
“No. This is what I have left you.”
That was for damn sure. Taylor started to laugh, but a sob emerged from the tightness in her chest. She sank onto the cracked stairs. Michael took a step toward her and she held up her hand, stopped him, but she couldn’t stop the devastation from overwhelming her, and there was no anger to hold it back now.
Tears burned in her throat. This was what she’d become. A ruin. What she’d already gone through hadn’t been enough. Now there was this, too. The most beautiful place she’d ever seen, a shattered mess—and she had no idea how to put it back together.
No idea how to put herself back together.
Chest heaving, she wiped at her eyes. Unable to bear looking at the broken realm, her desolate stare settled on Michael. He stood in front of her, his body rigid, head bowed and fists tight. God. She couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking. Caelum had been his for millennia. Now he’d been attacked by it.
She shouldn’t care. She should be glad.
She couldn’t be.
And it was time to stop crying. Taylor hauled in a deep, steadying breath. “Does it bother you—that you were rejected?”
“No.” His gaze touched her damp cheeks. “I do not like feeling helpless. To know there is nothing I can do or say to ease your pain. To erase the past.”
Taylor didn’t need an eraser. She chalked it up to lesson learned. “Tell me you’ll let me Fall.”
Jaw tightening, he looked out over the ruins. “Caelum will still be yours.”
“Even if I’m human?”
“Yes.” He met her eyes again. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement. Allow me to show you how to rebuild her, so that if you Fall the Guardians still have a home to call their own. A few weeks is all I ask. You may Fall afterward, if you wish it. But whether you are human or Guardian, after those weeks have passed I swear I will not trouble you again.”
He could swear on a stack of Bibles and Taylor still wouldn’t trust it. But she didn’t immediately reject his offer. It was a reasonable request.
And Caelum was worth a moment’s consideration.
She flattened her palm on the stone step beside her leg. Smooth and warm, the marble felt almost alive beneath her hand. Maybe it was just absorbing the heat from the sun. Maybe it was just the fancy of her mind. Savi would say that it was just some law of physics. Equal and opposite reactions. But when she pressed down, it felt like Caelum pressed back.
“All right. I’m not agreeing; I’m just agreeing to think about it. Give me a day or so.” She wasn’t feeling hollow now, or as ready to explode, but she wasn’t completely settled, either. “I know two and a half years is just a blink of time to you—but it was for me, too. Only yesterday, I was in Hell with you.”
And though her body had healed, those wounds were still raw—and the deepest had not been the spear through her chest. He’d hurt her worse than that weapon had.
Michael moved to the bottom of the temple stairs, where she sat on the third step. When he sank to his heels, his eyes were on level with hers, his expression grave. “Two and a half years is no time, it’s true. Unless the woman you need to apologize to more than any other lies in a bed. And you visit her almost every hour, hoping that she will wake, yet her mind remains silenced because of what you’ve done. Then two and a half years can be an eternity.”
Her breath stilled. Such pretty words. She didn’t want to believe them. But even if they were true, he’d probably only visited out of a sense of guilt or obligation—or to make sure her tainted blood was still safe from Lucifer.
And she knew what was coming next and didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want him to apologize; she just wanted to be angry. But there was no stopping him.
“I am sorry, Andromeda Taylor. More than I could say in ten years or ten thousand. But I will say it in every way I can over the next weeks.”
He sounded like he meant it. Closing her eyes, she planted her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Her fingers speared into her hair. God. Was this manipulation or sincerity?
That she wondered at all told her what really mattered.
She looked up at him. “And perhaps I’ll accept that apology. But I’ll never trust you.”
“Or Khavi.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“You told me once what she’d said about your brother. I didn’t know of the other prediction she’d made.”
About Michael loving her? Taylor’s cheeks heated. She shouldn’t have said anything. Angry, it hadn’t mattered. Now he probably thought she’d been upset by the loss.
“Forget it. I just mentioned it to explain why I wouldn’t trust anything Khavi says about protecting me.” Taylor shouldn’t trust anything Michael did, either. “And I don’t believe you didn’t already know. You were in my head for over a year.”
“But I didn’t know your every thought. I didn’t look through your memories.”
At least there was that, then. If it was true.
And why wouldn’t he stop looking at her? His gaze hadn’t left her face for a while. He watched her as if searching for some answer she hadn’t given.
Another giant hand needed to appear and push him away. Having him so close crossed wires in her head. He looked like one thing and was something else. That short toga should have been silly. It should have made her think of drunken frat boys. But she barely noticed the drape of cloth—only the width of his shoulders beneath and the strength of his thighs. The dark skin against the white linen, the sun gleaming over taut muscle. His body, so stable and solid, even as he crouched on
broken pavers and with his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. A big man who sat perfectly still, yet he could rise up in an instant and kill a hundred demons. Just like some Greek god. Some ancient warrior hero, cast in bronze and brought to life.
But she knew some of those myths. All those ancient heroes and gods were assholes, and they treated the women around them like shit.
She didn’t need a Hercules in her life. Superman would be a better choice—a modern, nice hero. But right now, she’d just settle for any guy who didn’t make her second-guess his every intention. And if she never found one, staying alone sounded just peachy.
And Michael was still looking at her.
What was he thinking? She couldn’t tell. His face rarely gave anything away. Even people who were good at lying or hiding their feelings had more expressive features, but, like his body, Michael’s often remained perfectly still. No arching eyebrows or twisting lips or flaring nostrils. She’d seen him smile and laugh, she’d seen him frown, but that same dark stillness ruled the rest of his features. His jaw might harden or his eyes might change color, but that was it—and his body language was the same. Quiet, controlled. He rarely shrugged or emphasized his speech with his hands. Almost all of his emotion came through his voice.
But when he was quiet, like this, his face was all she had to go on. And she didn’t know how to read it, or whether to trust his features, anyway. He always looked dangerous, intense. The natural angle of his brows shadowed his eyes, so that every glance seemed more focused. Almost predatory. And when he looked at her, the very stillness of his gaze was unsettling.
She fought the urge to squirm. She needed him to move, so that she could get the hell out of here.
“Andromeda.” He spoke her name softly, like a gentle caress. “Do you want me to love you?”
Jesus. She rocked back a little. The impulse to surge to her feet and walk away hit her hard, but he might think she was hiding something. So she looked him square-on and gave him the truth.
“No. And I never even considered it before Khavi. I never even thought of it as a possibility.” She’d imagined sex with him, but in the same way she would an attractive movie star. Fun to look at, but never thinking that anything more was remotely possible, and every fantasy packaged with a dose of blasphemous guilt. Until Khavi had suggested that he would love her. And maybe the thought had given Taylor a little thrill. Then she’d realized the truth. “I didn’t know Khavi was such a liar, then.”
Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) Page 11
