“Then we’d better start looking.”
* * *
But two days later, they hadn’t even come across a trace of them—and the Guardians weren’t the only ones looking. At the FBI, Bradford had named them persons of interest in the bombing at Colin’s house. Patricia Johnson, Dennis Parkins, Benjamin Nguyen, and Jeffrey Green. Their pictures had been quietly distributed to every law enforcement office in the country. Novices had sped through thousands of hours of airport, bus depot, and train station surveillance. Taking to the streets, Taylor and Michael had shown their photos to hundreds of taxi drivers and hotel clerks. In forty-eight hours, she beat more pavement around the city than she had wearing a uniform. No need to stop to rest or eat.
But still frustrated and mentally exhausted by the second night, when Lilith called everyone together to the conference room at headquarters to make sure everyone was up to speed on everyone else’s searches and that they weren’t missing any angles.
So they all shared the big fat nothing they’d found so far, and, no surprise—whatever angle they were missing, no one had any freaking idea what it could be. Because if they’d had an idea, they’d have already been looking at it.
Taylor sat at the table and mostly kept her mouth shut, because her eggshell was thin and she wouldn’t help anything by cracking. Everyone else was running that same tight line. Hugh had actually taken a chair, and sat rubbing Sir Pup’s ears. Jake hadn’t attempted a joke even once, and Alice’s every move made Taylor’s skin itch with imaginary spiders. She didn’t think that Drifter had let even an inch of space come between him and Charlie in all the time they’d been there. Alejandro was always quiet, but tonight he edged toward brooding. Beside him, Irena stood glowering, and the novices kept sending her wary glances, as if they thought she might go berserk any second.
She wished Rosalia were here. The woman’s soft, comforting presence would have been a nice addition to this room right now—as would her crazy brilliance. Maybe she would have been able to see a new angle. But she and Deacon were in Europe, visiting every vampire community, letting them know that Lucifer might be coming and the Guardians needed their help. A few other Guardians were doing the same around the world.
In London, she knew that Colin and Savi were doing the same, even as they still searched for Katherine’s killer. Necessary work, but Taylor wished her friend were here, too. Not just because Savi could have probably pulled some magic from her computers. Taylor simply missed her. She even missed Colin.
Kind of.
In the chair next to her, Joe looked ready to collapse into a wrinkled puddle. He’d been going at it just as hard as the rest of them, but without the benefit of a Guardian’s stamina. His chin kept dipping down to his chest before he jerked his head up again, and his eyelids looked as if they weighed a ton. And Michael . . .
Her chest tightened. She didn’t know what was going on with Michael. He was so hard to read. And it didn’t help that he’d spent most of the past two days as Agent Smith. All those unfamiliar gestures and expressions threw her off. She recognized his frustration and worry. But there was something else, too—the melancholy that never quite left, but now seemed sharper, deeper.
And he kept slipping out of his Agent Smith identity. More than once, she’d turned to find the Big Warrior Guardian in a suit, his eyes obsidian and his body rigidly controlled.
But whenever she asked, Michael always said he was fine.
Maybe it was just knowing that in Hell, Anaria and Khavi were about to march with Belial on Lucifer’s throne. Maybe it was knowing that if the Guardians didn’t find the sentinels and these people soon, Michael would join them and fight at Anaria’s side. Maybe he was dreading that. His sister tore him up. When they’d been linked, Taylor had felt how Anaria had ripped his heart to shreds.
And sometimes, he looked as if his heart was being shredded all over again.
Not now, though. He stood against the conference room wall, wearing his toga and his arms crossed over his chest. All hard muscle and bronze skin, confident and strong, and just looking at him made it seem possible that despite the litany of “Nothing found” around her, there was still hope yet.
“All right,” Lilith said when the novices finished the list of dates and surveillance they’d gone through. Though Taylor wouldn’t have dared to call the faint darkness under the other woman’s eyes “shadows,” Lilith was looking pretty worn out, too. “Sir Pup has been all through the city. He hasn’t picked up any of their scents.”
“Neither have I,” Michael said.
“I also did as you asked, and sent Sir Pup to each of their houses, trying to trace their trail,” Lilith told him. “He lost it each time.”
Michael sighed and closed his eyes.
Taylor frowned, studying him. That wasn’t just disappointment at another possible lead gone dry. That was more like something he’d hoped wasn’t true had just been confirmed.
And how the hell could Sir Pup lose a trail? That hellhound had once tracked Ash and Nicholas from halfway across the United States—and they hadn’t been on foot. They’d driven. Yet he’d lost the others? “Lost it where? At an airport?”
“Nowhere. Two on a street, one outside his house, another in his backyard.”
Her brain struggled to make sense of that. Apparently Joe’s was, too. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he shook his head. “So what does that mean?”
“It means that they flew away,” Michael said. “And that the demons took them.”
Lilith nodded. “And that means they went willingly.”
Because demons couldn’t just swoop down and kidnap humans without breaking the Rules.
Oh, God. Her stomach dropped. “So does that mean the four of them are putting themselves up as willing sacrifices? Or is it worse—that they are going to be doing the killing?”
Michael held her gaze. “I suspect the latter.”
Because demons were persuasive. And they knew that Parkins had been visited several times by one posing as Mark Brandt. Perhaps the others who were missing had been visited many times, too.
But the others had only been visited once after the murders. So the demons had been—what? Feeling out the family members? Looking to see who would be the most susceptible to their manipulations? Joe had said that each of the families had been pissed off when the local investigations hadn’t gotten anywhere. Then Mark Brandt had shown up on their doorstep. So what had the demon told them?
She could guess. Because the demon had told everyone. He’d made a video, claiming a government conspiracy to conceal the existence of an infection that turned men into something else.
Each of the victims had been missing blood. None of their murders had been solved. It would have been so easy to persuade family members who were angry and grieving that a cover-up was the reason why their loved ones hadn’t seen any justice yet. And if they’d doubted, the demons had the big doozy waiting to give them a final push: A vampire had killed Mark Brandt.
God. Taylor could barely even comprehend the level of planning and manipulation that would take. But one thing was sticking out at her now.
The demon hadn’t just talked about a conspiracy. He’d pointed them all toward Special Investigations.
She looked to Michael. “You knew in Alabama. This is why you are so certain the portal is going to open here. Because they are using the humans to come after us.”
The ultimate fuck-you from Lucifer. Brought down by the people the Guardians try to protect.
“I suspected as soon as I heard that the demon visited Dennis Parkins several times. Lucifer’s hand is guiding the sentinels,” Michael said. “He never has a light touch. And he wants to hurt us as much as possible.”
“So who is he going after?” Her heart clenched. Lucifer hated one person above any other. “You?”
“No.” Michael sounded utterly certain. “He would want to kill me himself.”
“That’s true.” Lilith’s lips curved into something like
a smile, but more like a knife. “But he wouldn’t mind ripping your heart out first.”
“Yes. And he knows that I am the most hurt when I am helpless—and when I fail to save someone.”
Just like his torture in the frozen field. That was how Lucifer had gotten to him, had stripped away his humanity down to the dragon’s core. And the people Lucifer had used had been strangers from the Pit. But if Lucifer did the same to one of Michael’s friends?
Or if Lucifer did the same to her. He’d already threatened Taylor.
But she wasn’t worried about herself. Maybe that was stupid. But Michael hadn’t left her side in days, and she couldn’t imagine four humans—even with demons helping them—getting through him.
And she wasn’t exactly helpless, either.
“It’s a hell of a risk to go after a Guardian,” Drifter broke in. “Any one of us is more likely to fight a human and Fall than let ourselves be sacrificed to open that portal. And the second that we fight, Michael will know we’ve broken the Rules and come for us.”
“Yes,” he said. “Humans and vampires will be most vulnerable.”
Lilith nodded. “Let’s make sure everyone has their personal alarms. That’ll alert everyone at headquarters, and each of the teleporters. Michael, Jake, Selah—you need to make sure you coordinate, so there’s someone who is always in signal range. That means no leaving the realm, no shielding spells.”
Jake raised his hand. “I’ll take the first shift. Since the demons stole his computers, I’m trying to pin down Webber’s online activity from this end. So I’m going to be here anyway.” He glanced at a pair of vampires standing beside him. “Jack, Annie—does your mom have an alarm? Cricket, too?”
Annie nodded, sleek burgundy hair sliding over her shoulders at the movement. “They both do. And we’ve pulled Cricket out of school for the next few days. It might be overkill, but . . .”
She trailed off with a shrug.
“Better to be safe,” Jack said. “We can’t watch out for them during the day. We’d rather have them behind the shielding spell with us.”
Taylor looked to Hugh. He’d sent Savi’s grandma to stay with Colin’s family after the demons had blown up their house. “Is Auntie still in England?”
“She is.”
Good. “My mom is covered, too.”
“An alarm, plus she’s using the shielding spell,” Joe said.
So well that, a few times when Taylor and Michael had checked on her, they hadn’t been able to get into the apartment. She’d had to stand on the balcony and wave through the sliding glass doors until her mother noticed them.
Taylor gave Joe’s chair a little nudge with her foot. “You’re being careful, too?”
“Shielding spell, alarm,” he said, then tiredly scrubbed his face again. “When I’m home, anyway.”
“That will be soon,” Lilith said. “Everyone else, keep your phones out of your cache so that we can reach you if we need to. Now, back to finding these four humans and the demons. Is there anything we haven’t hit? Any ideas about finding an identity the sentinels might be using?”
Taylor couldn’t think of a thing. Judging by the silence that answered Lilith, no one else was doing any better.
“All right.” Lilith pursed her lips. “We’re all mentally fried, and that makes us stupid. It’s two o’clock in the morning. If you’re not human, go take five hours. Jack, Annie—you’ve been sleeping all day, so you get to cover headquarters with Jake. If you’re human, get your ass in bed.”
“Does that include you?” Hugh asked, and the softness of his voice sounded a little like a threat.
Lilith narrowed her eyes at him. “After a bit. Okay, everyone. If you’ve got wings, we’re meeting here again at seven a.m., and you’d better have some fucking brains in your heads. Preston, if I see you before ten, you’re fired.”
“I’m too tired to even argue,” Joe said, and he pushed heavily to his feet.
Since the meeting was apparently over, Taylor stood with him. “Michael and I will take you home. Or are you going to my mom’s?”
“I already told her to put the shield up for the night. I’m supposed to head over around six thirty for breakfast.”
Before her mom went to work. She glanced up as Michael joined them. “Ready?”
He nodded, and she slipped her hand into his. Joe gave their linked fingers a second glance, then her face.
Taylor gave him her blandest look. Joe began to smile, then they were spinning and Michael had a steadying grip on Joe’s arm in the middle of his living room.
Joe groaned, swaying. Taylor felt like doing the same. By the time her head stopped whirling, Michael had already checked the house and set the shielding spell at the door with a few drops of his blood.
The warm fragrance of sawdust and the sharp odor of wood stain filled Taylor’s first deep breath. In the kitchen, new cherry cabinets stood without countertops. The old linoleum had been ripped out. Black and white tiles checkered the floor.
Remodeling before her mom moved in.
God, she loved this guy. “You realize that she won’t be cooking much, right?”
Joe’s gaze followed hers. Realization swept across his expression, chased by dismay. “I’ve been working on that every free minute for six freaking months, Andy. You know how many times I’ve seen her sighing over the fancy kitchens in those decorating magazines? It was supposed to be a surprise. Jesus, I even ordered custom granite countertops. And the stove. Oh, Christ be nimble. The stove. You know how much that stainless-steel son of a bitch set me back?”
Grinning, she patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. In two hundred years, we’ll look back on this moment and laugh.”
“As much as I laid out for it, that stove better still be working in two hundred years, too.” He stopped, his gaze sharpening. “We will?”
“As long as a dragon doesn’t eat us.” She stuck her fingers in her pockets, lifted her shoulders. “But, hey—if we’re still around next week, my superspeed and I can come help you with this. You’ll be done in no time.”
“So you’re not going to Fall?”
“Nope.”
Eyes suddenly glistening, he nodded. His voice was rough as he said, “It’ll be good to have you around, kid.”
“Yeah, well.” Damn it. Now her eyes were stinging, too. “Somebody’s got to stick close and make sure you don’t build a sunroom in here.”
His snort of laughter stretched into a yawn. Blinking, he shook his head. “All right. I’m off to bed. See you in the morning.”
“See you. Give love to my mom when you see her. And eat a pancake for me.”
His reply was a backward wave as he shuffled down the hall. She glanced over at Michael. Eyes glowing amber, but his face like stone.
Not at all Agent Smith, but Taylor still couldn’t read him. “What is it?”
His expression softened with every step toward her. His warm hand cupped her cheek. “I am glad that you have such good friends.”
She smiled against his palm. He was so weird sometimes. “Me, too.” Friends that she’d like to keep. “So, where to? Maybe another search through Webber’s place in—”
“No. Lilith was right. We’re not seeing what’s in front of us anymore. We need to take an hour or two.”
Fuck. It was true. But that quickly, her frustration and anger were back, because she didn’t know how the hell four people could have disappeared so easily, even with freaking hellhounds sniffing them out.
His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. “Do you want to get some air?”
Her heart thumped. God, she did. She wanted to throw herself at him and lose herself in a kiss. But Taylor knew herself too well. She was pissed; she was frustrated. And when she got like this, it was too easy to blow up every little resentment into something bigger than it was.
Like if he held back. If he didn’t come. If she couldn’t make him lose control, too.
“I’m running on anger,” she told him
.
A slow smile curved his gorgeous mouth. “That might be how you start. We can see if that’s how you end. And I always like a fight.”
Taylor laughed. Oh, she was so tempted. But everything she felt for him was so new, and right now her shell was so thin. She needed to get her head in a different place first. Then they could get to the kissing.
“A fight would be good.” She could pound through this frustration, instead. “So do you have anything we could kill?”
He grinned. “Nothing on hand. But I know of something else that might work.”
* * *
She knew he’d brought her to Caelum even before she opened her eyes. Not just the warmth of the sun or the absolute quiet. This time, she sensed the realm—felt that recognition inside her, warm and light.
As if welcoming her home.
But not to her usual spot near Michael’s temple. She vaguely recognized this courtyard. The sun didn’t move and the realm didn’t spin, so there was no real east or west in Caelum, but this was in what the Guardians called the eastern side. There hadn’t been as many tall spires and towers in this part of the city—so when the buildings here had come tumbling down, they hadn’t filled the courtyards with broken marble blocks. The pavers were cracked and uneven, and huge slabs of stone lay around the perimeter, but it was one of the few places in Caelum where she could take more than five steps without having to clamber over rubble.
Room to move. And she’d asked for a fight. But they were the only ones here.
Narrowing her eyes, she looked up at Michael. “So what are the rules? ‘Two Guardians enter, one Guardian leaves’?”
“Only if you sing to Caelum and build a Thunderdome. If you don’t know the lyrics, I can tell them to you. They fit you very well.”
Taylor stared at him.
He returned her stare, eyes amber and a faint smile tilting the corners of his mouth. “I hear many things, Andromeda Taylor.”
Even Mad Max movies. She couldn’t stop her grin. “Apparently.”
Stepping back, he swept his gaze across the ground. “It’s almost level here. Has Irena made a sword for you yet?”
She had. Taylor pulled the weapon from her hammerspace. Shorter than most of the swords she’d seen other Guardians carrying, and the blade wider. No long, elegant sword for her.
Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) Page 46
