Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES)

by Meljean Brook

  He gave a slow nod. “I knew she was. So when she told me that you would fear what you saw in me, that you would never trust me, I let myself believe it for a lie.”

  Of course he’d prefer to believe that. If people trusted him, it was easier to manipulate them. “So Khavi said that I would see what you really were. And she was right. But how? She said her Gift stopped working after you became the dragon.”

  “I interpreted it as you simply coming to know me. We had been spending more time together.”

  No. He’d been lurking around her apartment and her job, watching her from the shadows. “Like when you showed up on my balcony after spying on me?”

  “You invited me to join you.”

  Kind of. She hadn’t known which Guardian had been out there when she’d called out the invitation. If she’d known the Doyen would show up, she’d have kept her mouth shut. “And the morning I woke to see you at the end of my bed?”

  “You’d accepted the Guardians’ protection. I was protecting you.” His smile told her he knew how flimsy that was. “And being with you was a welcome distraction from the knowledge that I would soon be in the frozen field.”

  Taylor didn’t like the picture that painted. He’d known about the torture ahead, and he’d preferred to spend his time near her? Was there no one else he wanted to be with?

  “So you knew the field was in your future. Did you know we’d be linked?”

  “I did not.” A sharp note emphasized the denial. “She only said that I would need to bind myself to the next person transformed.”

  Taylor wasn’t sure she believed him. “I don’t need to ask if you would’ve linked us if you had known it was me. Because you did.”

  “You are wrong. If I’d known when and how you would be killed, I’d have stopped it.” His gaze never wavered from hers. “But after it came to pass—”

  “There was no reason not to?” A bitter smile touched her lips when he nodded. But she could see the sense of it. She was already dead. She would become a Guardian, and he’d needed to save the world. “Then why kiss me?”

  “Many reasons. Taking the blood already in your mouth to complete the link was preferable to biting your neck or sucking on the bullet wounds in your chest.”

  Amusement had lightened his voice. Taylor had to stop herself from laughing in accord. That would be disgusting. She’d have made the same choice.

  “That’s only one reason,” she said. Not many.

  “I also thought it might offer comfort as you were transformed. And I kissed you because there was little time to explain what was happening. I thought that it would be the most direct way to tell you that you weren’t just a body for me to use, that I cared for you and that I was sorry for what had happened.” He paused, and she tried to catch her breath, to remind herself that he used pretty words. But he didn’t give her enough time, and his gaze never let hers go. “And I thought it might give you pleasure. I think it did for a while.”

  It had given her pleasure. It had made her wonder if he cared. It had comforted her. That kiss had done all of those things, exactly as he’d intended.

  But she couldn’t understand what purpose her pleasure could serve, except as a promise that he never intended to fulfill . . . because her body didn’t tempt him. “But it couldn’t do anything for you. That’s what you told me in Hell. Or was that a lie, too?”

  “No. I don’t desire sex for myself.” Glowing with sudden intensity, his amber gaze fell to her mouth. “But if you do, I’d like to please you in your bed.”

  Her heart stuttered. “What?”

  “You don’t fear me now.”

  Because she was too stunned to feel anything. Except disbelief. “Why would you want to? To fill me with your seed?”

  He shook his head. “I know I can’t make you mine.”

  Damn right, he couldn’t. But it still didn’t make sense.

  “Why, then? To eat me?”

  His quick, laughing smile flipped her belly over. Oh, God. She hadn’t meant—

  Heat flooded her face. “Don’t answer that.”

  He did anyway. “I would, Andromeda. I’d take you with my mouth anywhere you liked. Long and slow, hard and fast—whatever pleased you most.”

  But why? She shouldn’t care enough to ask. The answer was no. And she shouldn’t imagine sex with him now. She’d been there, done that. Khavi hadn’t just said he wouldn’t love her; she’d said that he’d take Taylor to his bed. Many times. That had fueled more than a few fantasies. That strong body, all that power, surging against her. Into her.

  Long and slow, hard and fast. Oh, no, no, no.

  She’d pushed all of those fantasies away before. She tried to push them away now. But his mouth was so close, and the only thing in her head was that he’d please her—and how many times she’d replayed that kiss, wondering if it had been half as good as she remembered.

  Her head was such a mess. A total ruin.

  Michael tensed. In an instant, his eyes darkened to obsidian. Taylor blinked and he suddenly towered over her, his body shielding hers and his sword in hand. Jake stood at the end of the blade, his arms raised high in surrender.

  “Okay, I get it. Jumping in next to her was a pretty stupid idea.” Jake’s hands fell to his sides, his expression turning serious. “But you guys really need to see this.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Snagging his arm around her waist, Michael pulled her up against his chest. He only needed to touch Andromeda’s hand to take her with him, but he wanted to see her reaction.

  He wasn’t disappointed.

  Her fingers clenched on his biceps, her elbows locked—forcing a sliver of space between their bodies, but not before he pushed his thigh between hers and let her weight carry her feet back to the ground. Her gaze lifted to his, pupils dilating. Her lips parted. A flush pinkened her pale skin.

  Confusion and irritation quickly followed, darkening her eyes and firming her mouth. An enthralling response. He wanted to kiss her just to see what she’d do. If her lips would open for the thrust of his tongue. If she’d slam her knee between his legs. If she’d surprise him.

  But he wouldn’t press any further now. Until the moment she reached the point of rejection—marked by her succinct “fuck you”—her nature was to step away from impulse, to consider evidence and examine possibilities. Her physical reaction would be an argument in his favor, but this decision would play out in her head, not her body. So he’d give her time to think about how he felt against her before he mentioned bedding her again.

  Holding her steady, he anchored to Jacob’s mind and teleported.

  Into a conference room at Special Investigations. Six other people in the room, including Jacob in front of him. Four behind him, all Guardians. He faced one human—Lilith. She shielded too well to verify her psychic song but he knew her posture, recognized the arching of her brow and cold smile in response to his appearance. Behind him, the novice Rebecca sat on the conference table with her feet propped on a chair. Uncertainty and dread leaked through her shields. Pim stood beside her, well shielded but her hand on Rebecca’s leg the familiar touch of a friend and the comforting touch of a healer. Selah waited in the corner, her expression curious. The scent of a pine forest wafted from her like a perfume. She must have also been notified by Jacob and recently teleported in. She smiled and started toward Alice, who stood against the wall, her posture straight as a blade and wearing a black dress made from spider silk that no demon could hope to replicate. Alice met his gaze and her mouth tightened into a prim line.

  Unhappy with him, but not yet ready to strike his head from his shoulders.

  No immediate threats. Nothing but the faintest, muffled noises from outside the room. Michael disliked the soundproofing; he couldn’t hear an enemy’s approach from above. If they came by ground, however, he would know. The vibrations in the floor told him that Sir Pup was trotting down the hallway toward Lilith’s office. If anyone else came near, he would feel that, as well.
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  He glanced down. Andromeda’s eyes had closed. Her throat working, she swayed to the side. Her grip on his arms tightened. Not pushing him away this time, but holding on until her balance returned.

  That didn’t mean she trusted him. It only meant that anger no longer ruled her.

  “We’ll give Taylor a minute to recover,” Lilith said.

  Andromeda stiffened. Instantly, Michael’s protective instincts surged. His gaze snapped to Lilith, whose words were weapons. Don’t speak to her.

  He bit back that response before it emerged. Except for the Guardians with a teleporting Gift, everyone experienced the disorientation. When they had been linked, Andromeda hadn’t—but now she did. The dizziness itself wouldn’t bother Andromeda; that Lilith remarked upon it did. Particularly after their argument that morning.

  But Michael had arranged that argument. He’d needed Andromeda’s anger to erupt and burn out, and no one was better at producing that eruption than Lilith. The clash had been inevitable after he’d threatened Hugh, and Lilith had reacted exactly as he’d hoped. She’d struck back in the way that would damage him the most: by prodding Andromeda to expose how much he’d hurt her.

  Michael had known that there was much to atone for. And from the moment he’d seen her in Ames-Beaumont’s driveway, he’d known that she would want to Fall.

  He didn’t care whether she became human again. That was her choice. Caelum would still respond to her and, unlike any other human, she would always be able to walk through the Gates to that realm. But he couldn’t bear that she would also push away everything related to the Guardians in her desperation to be rid of him.

  Yet he had no doubt she wanted to move away from this city with her family, leaving her friends behind. He’d seen it before. Andromeda was not the first human injured in the war between Guardians and demons. She would not be the first to sever ties to protect herself. And some of those humans did well afterward, rebuilding new lives and new connections.

  Andromeda wouldn’t. He’d seen that before, too—not just in other humans, but in her. He’d seen her withdraw from friends who knew nothing of vampires and Guardians. He’d seen her question everything that she was and despair when she couldn’t find the answers. He’d seen how difficult it was for her to trust and to let anyone close.

  She would endure. Andromeda was too strong to do anything else. But she would soon be alone.

  And Michael would soon be dead. He wouldn’t be able to protect her. But if her anger abated, she might reconsider and remain near to those who could. A few weeks might be enough time to persuade her to stay, but only if she moved past her rejection of him.

  So he had hoped for that explosion. Yet even he hadn’t known how much her anger would reveal.

  Khavi had played matchmaker.

  For Andromeda, the idea that Michael might love her had been outside the realm of possibility. But with a few words, Khavi had created that possibility within her without adding expectations, like building a door for Andromeda to step through if she ever developed softer feelings for him.

  Perhaps Khavi had only acted as a friend, hoping to help him. Showing him where he was most likely to fall in love.

  Except that Michael had already known. Khavi had only seen the possibility because he’d already recognized it. For Michael, that door had been created the day he’d first seen Andromeda standing over the body of a murdered boy, fury and sorrow and suspicion singing their determined march through her mind.

  But that door was closing. Everything he might have felt and everything he’d been was ending. A few weeks left.

  A few weeks in which he might overwrite some of the pain he’d caused her with pleasure he’d happily give. A few weeks to hoard his memories of Andromeda Taylor like a treasure. She’d helped him endure once. If there was anything left of him after death, he would have memories of Andromeda to hold on to for eternity.

  A few weeks to create his own heaven or hell.

  Perhaps it would be both. She released his arms and stepped back. A quick shift in her footing said that she was still dizzy. Though his instincts roared at him to help her steady again, Michael didn’t attempt to reach for her. This time, she would push him away.

  “Ready, then?” Jacob asked.

  She nodded and glanced around the room. Her features tightened and another flush tinged her skin before she faced Lilith again.

  Embarrassed. She must have realized that news of her argument with Lilith had probably spread—and news of her desire to Fall. Even now, Alice recounted it all to Selah with silent, sharp gestures. Andromeda likely wondered if they looked at her with pity or blame. The Guardian who couldn’t hack it, she would say.

  Michael could have assured her that they knew exactly where the blame lay: with him. Their disappointment sang a soft lament throughout the warehouse. They’d thought better of him. Even after discovering he was the son of a demon. Even despite their wariness after his return. But now he’d hurt one of their own, and they couldn’t think so well of him now.

  And Michael wished that he had been better. If only because Andromeda wouldn’t believe herself a ruin now.

  “Start the video over, Jake.”

  Lilith stepped away from a large screen on the wall, where an image had been paused. A young man stood in front of an American flag. Mark Brandt. Michael recognized him by appearance, but wouldn’t trust that until he saw Brandt speak.

  Jacob tapped on a laptop keyboard and the image went black. Not television feed, Michael saw, but a video from the Internet. Text appeared on the dark screen—The Truth—before sliding away to show Brandt again.

  “My name is Mark Brandt. For three years, I’ve served as chief of staff for Senator Trina Blackwell of Ohio, and previously as legal counsel for Senator Walt Gareth. My father was Senator Bill Brandt from Washington State. You may remember that he passed away five years ago, after suffering a heart attack on the steps of the Capitol Building.”

  Andromeda glanced at Jacob. “That’s the senator who Drifter killed, right? And Alejandro impersonated him afterward and pretended to have the heart attack.”

  “Technically, a vampire killed the senator first, and one of the nephilim possessed his body. Then Drifter slew the nephil,” Lilith said. “But watch.”

  “That death was a lie. My father died months before that date, of causes more horrible and more unnatural than heart failure. The truth is, our great country has been under assault from terrorists that don’t originate from another country or serve a specific religion. They don’t attack buildings or use bombs. Instead they have been waging a war on our very humanity. For centuries, they have been living among us.

  “My father was not killed by a heart attack. His neck was broken by a man who was no longer human. A man who had been infected by an ancient plague—and this disease has been covered up by our own government. My father was killed because he’d tried to expose these secrets. I suspect that I will die exposing them as well. Perhaps I will also be replaced, as my father was, because that was not my father who died on those steps. It was a staged event arranged by a government entity. This entity, known as Special Investigations, was created solely for the purpose of hiding the truth.”

  An image of the building that housed the headquarters appeared onscreen. At the bottom of the picture was the address.

  “Oh, shit,” Andromeda breathed.

  Jacob nodded. “Yep.”

  Michael was not as concerned. Special Investigations was useful, but exposing it would not stop the Guardians or affect their purpose. Brandt’s status worried him more. He held the young man’s psychic song in his mind and tried to teleport to his location, but couldn’t find an anchor to jump toward. Brandt was either shielded or dead.

  “I expect that many of you will dismiss this warning as a hoax. But I urge you not to—that is how they keep their secrets. They hide behind the shield of our disbelief. They destroy evidence that exposes them and produce lies to replace truth. But they cannot hide
forever.

  “I do not expect anyone to believe my claims without the proof to back them up, however. To that end, I have sent a full statement and copies of documents gathered by my father to media outlets around the world. You must demand their broadcast. You must demand that these lies are exposed. Only you can stop this infection. You must demand the truth . . . before we are all destroyed. God bless you all.”

  The screen darkened again.

  “Oh, Jake. You brought me here for this?” With a heavy sigh, Selah shook her head. “Even the silent film era had movies with better dialogue.”

  Michael agreed. “They did not have better actors, however.”

  This one almost passed for human.

  Andromeda’s grin flashed. “Okay. Corny, yes. But what is he trying to do? The media won’t take this seriously for an instant. Yet it’s obviously a call to arms. Do you think he’s trying to spark a human uprising against us?”

  More probably lay behind it than that. “He was not Mark Brandt,” Michael said. “His breathing was too regular, his voice too flat.”

  “A demon,” Lilith agreed.

  “It might be him,” Jacob said. “If he rehearsed enough or medicated up.”

  “Yes. Theoretically, it could be him. Would Mark ever do this, however?” Alice walked around the table to Jacob’s side, each step a jolting rush followed by a pause, as if her limbs were disjointed. When fighting and when focused, she glided. But now she was preoccupied, her body reflecting the influence of the spiders that she psychically controlled. “Mark is a friend to Charlie, and the infected he speaks of must be vampires. Would he put her in such danger?”

  “He might,” Jacob said. “He seemed pretty cool about helping us get everything right when Alejandro impersonated his father. But his reactions haven’t always been stable, so this might have been building, or maybe something set him off. Like when he first found out about his dad, he went kind of crazy. He even shot Charlie, saying that all vampires were evil. She forgave him. I can’t say that Drifter or I have.”