“I can influence the actions of man, Wilhelmina Sheridan,” he said with matter-of-fact calm, “but I cannot influence what they are genuinely feeling deep in their very soul. And by the way you kissed me just then…”
Her eyes narrowed. “For an angel,” she said lowly, “you’re a complete prick.”
“Ask your soul if you truly believe that to be true,” he shot back.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he truly standing in her front yard, arguing with her about the kiss he’d compelled her to give him? Was he losing his sanity, standing this close to her? Was God punishing him more for what he’d done by causing his rational mind to erode in her presence?
He didn’t see her punch. He sensed the displaced air a fraction of a second before her fist smashed into his jaw. The second time she’d landed such a blow on his person since he’d made himself known to her.
He staggered sideways under the force, not so much unbalanced, but unsettled. How must she loathe him, fear him, to strike out at him so.
“Get away from me or I’ll break your fucking jaw,” she snarled.
It was nothing less than what he deserved, but the fact offered Nathanial no peace. Self-disgust and self-contempt roped through him. She would never trust him now. Not after this. His lack of discipline, his failure to control himself, had put Billie in more danger than if he’d never come near her.
“Billie…” He held up his hands, palms out, pouring every ounce of his desperation and conviction into his voice. “I can’t get away from you. I can’t leave you. I have to protect you, or you’ll experience something far more heinous than me influencing you. If I were to leave you to Gilbert’s lust, it won’t just be your body, but your mind and soul subjected to his depraved sexual appetites and insane obsession.”
“Says you,” she shot back.
But she didn’t run. Nor did she shrink away from him.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
At this point, Nathanial would take something, no matter how small.
Let her see you, really see you. Then she will truly understand.
“Billie…” He took a slow step toward her. He kept his palms facing her, his gaze on her face. “I apologize for what I did. I shouldn’t have allowed my…my feelings for you to jeopardize your safety. But we must go. Together. Now.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Feelings for me? Given we’ve only known each other for approximately twenty seconds, I can’t fathom you having any kind of feelings for me I’d want to know about.”
Nathanial drew in a slow breath. “I can erase the moment from your memory if you wish, or I can compel your will to do as I wish again. I don’t want to do either. You can believe I’m insane, but the one thing I do not want you to believe is that I don’t know you. I’ve known you for every second of your life.”
Billie’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, well, that’s completely reassuring.”
Warmth radiated through Nathanial. She was so feisty. So sarcastic.
“Remind me again why I should be running away from Gilbert and not you?”
“Because—” He stopped at the finger of ice tracing up his spine. At the sudden metallic taint to the very air. At the whisper of insanity on the breeze.
Straightening, he scanned the darkness and shadows around them.
Gilbert. Gilbert was here. Now. He’d arrived. And the emptiness of his freely given soul was far more imbued with the Dark One’s force than Nathanial had expected.
Every muscle in Nathanial’s body coiled. His gut clenched.
They’d run out of time. Billie had run out of time.
“Because,” he said, returning his focus to Billie, “unlike Gilbert, I have these.”
And with a shudder, he released the shield concealing his wings from the sight of man, and flexed them out to their fullest span.
Billie’s eyes widened. She stumbled back a step.
“Holy fuck,” she breathed.
“If only,” Nathanial murmured, before snaking his arm around her waist, hauling her to his body and launching them both into the night sky with one powerful downward thrust of his wings.
Chapter 3
What. The holy. Fuck?
She clung to the hard, warm body of the…the…angel as the hot night air whipped through her hair and at her face.
Angel.
An angel had grabbed her—abducted her—and was now flying through the night sky, taking her…somewhere.
Her head swam.
No, no. You can’t pass out. You can’t.
She clung tighter to Knight. It was that or plummet to her death.
“God help me,” she muttered against his chest, eyes squeezed shut.
“As if,” the angel rumbled, the words like thunder against her lips.
God loves us. All of us.
Her mother’s words whispered through her head, almost feverish in their intensity, which was always the way her mother spoke of God—feverishly, zealously and ardently.
Huh. Her mother had probably never expected her only daughter to one day be wrapped around a freaking angel and flying who knows how high above LA at 2 am in the morning.
Still, her mother had promised her God loved everyone, and now here was this git with wings—albeit a sexy git with wings—telling her otherwise?
Yeah, no ball, dude.
Squeezing her arms tighter around Knight’s torso, and adding her legs around his hips for good measure, she pulled her head from his chest and glared at him. A distant part of her mind excitedly informed her that he truly did seem very well endowed below the waist, but that part of her mind could just shut the hell up. “I know I’m in no position to say this, but screw you.”
The stupid wind whipped the words away. Great. How fast were they flying? Where were they flying to?
His angry-ocean gray eyes fixed on hers and his lips curled. Goddamn it, he had a gorgeous smile. “I’m not that kind of angel.” His gaze dipped to her mouth for a fleeting second. “Although, I must admit, I have wondered about the logistics of mid-flight copulation.”
The junction of her thighs grew warm. That distant part of her mind immediately flung up an image of them hurtling through space in a position usually only found in bed. Damn it.
She narrowed her glare. “You’d have to Jedi mind-trick me. Again.”
Something dark and ominous flared in his eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. “Please don’t Jedi mind-trick me,” she squeaked.
What the hell was she doing, antagonizing him like that? It was a long way down to the ground.
He slid his stare away from her face, fixing it instead on the direction they were headed.
Up? It could be. Or it could be sideways. She couldn’t tell. Her hair lashed about her head in every direction, and the pull on her stomach…well, it wasn’t like the kind of sensation she equated with going up or down fast on a roller coaster or in an elevator. Her brain told her they were moving, fast, but her body had no idea which way.
Maybe you’re not flying? Maybe he’s messing with your head and you’re standing outside your home?
“You’re not.”
She gasped at his low statement, and glared at him harder. “Listen, none of this is fun. But if you’re reading my mind, you can just get the hell out of there. No trespassing. Got it?”
“Got it. And I didn’t mean to. I just…” His jaw bunched and his arm around her waist grew tighter. “It’s a strong mind you’ve got there, Wilhelmina Sheridan. Powerful. Potent. It’s hard to deny it.”
Her heart leapt faster at the surreal declaration. “Deny…” She frowned and shook her head, even as she adjusted her legs around his hips. “I’m dreaming. Have to be.”
His deep chest vibrated against her breasts as he chuckled. “Will it help you to believe that? I can make—”
“Don’t even try it, dude.”
His teeth flashed in a smile no angel had any right smiling. Wicked and full of promise.
The junction of her thighs grew war
mer. Her pulse quickened. Grinding her teeth, she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead to his impressive pec. “If you don’t mind, I’m just going to smoosh my face against your chest until I wake up from this dream.”
Or get to wherever it is you’re taking me.
“I don’t mind. All will be well, Billie.” His voice caressed her fraying sanity. “I will never let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, settling in for however long this lunacy was going to last. She should be furious, petrified, but there was something about hugging him—even if it was to prevent a sudden and hideous drop sans parachute. In spite of herself, she felt safe.
Or is he just making you feel that?
The dark thought traced an icy finger up her spine and she tried not to hug him so closely. Which only succeeded in giving gravity the chance to grab at her. She slid a little down his body, barely an inch, gave up trying not to hug him and clung to him like her life depended on it. Which may in fact be the case.
“If you are making me think this is all happening, can we move it to somewhere closer to the ground?” she cried out, pressing her cheek harder to his chest.
“Closer to the ground, we can be.”
Everything grew still. Her hair fell about her shoulders. She unlocked her legs from around his hips and straightened them. Ground pressed at the bottom of her feet. A part of her mind told her it had always been there. Insisted it.
She shoved herself away from Knight and scanned the darkness around her.
Well, definitely not in Kansas anymore.
She squinted at the bushes and trees and what looked like a cabin lurking behind them.
Or even, it seemed, LA. At least, not her part of LA.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Somewhere safe,” Knight growled, walking toward the cabin.
“Safe?” She barked out a laugh. “I’m sorry, but I think the word you mean is ominous.”
Without slowing, he tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “Nah. If I meant ominous, there’d be skulls and bones scattered all over the ground.”
She blinked, and jerked her stare to her feet.
“And as you can see,” his voice mocked her, getting fainter as he walked farther away, “all that’s on the ground is—shit.”
Shit?
Frowning, she peered harder at the ground. It didn’t look like shit. It looked like wild violets and moss and—
“What the hell?”
The startled menace in Knight’s murmur tore her focus from the tiny flowers beneath her feet. Something was wrong.
What, apart from the fact you’ve been abducted by an…an…
Yeah, still had difficulty with the word angel.
Lips twisting with a sardonic smile, she closed the distance between them. That sense of needing to be close to him was itching her again, that feeling she was safer with him.
Safer? Or hornier?
He stood at the bottom step leading up to the dark cabin’s front porch, staring up at the door. The moon painted pale light over the building, and this close, she could see it was far more modern and structurally sound than she’d first thought. It was the kind of building one could find in the pages of glamorous travel magazines, a cozy Airbnb luxury cabin perfect for the romantic getaway.
Romantic? Really? That’s where your head went?
“What’s the problem?” she asked. The last thing she needed was to think Knight was a dashing hero worthy of a romance plot.
Instead of answering her, he pulled a phone from the back pocket of his jeans and started swiping his thumb over the screen.
She snorted. “Angels use phones?”
He flicked her an enigmatic look. “They do when they have to call a djinn.”
Billie’s eyebrows shot up. “A djinn? A genie? Are you sure you’re not the psycho obsessed with my show and character?”
His teeth flashed at her again as he raised the phone to his ear. “Your show and your character? No.” He turned and fixed his attention on the cabin. “James, we’ve got a problem.”
James? The djinn’s name was James?
Of course it was.
“Good grief.” Rubbing at her arms—wherever he’d brought her, it was colder than LA—she took in her surroundings. She should try to get away. Bolt. While he was talking to James the Genie.
She curled her toes in the soft moss beneath her feet. Running through the dark without shoes wasn’t smart.
And staying here with Knight is?
She ran her gaze over his broad back. Maybe. Maybe not.
“Someone’s put a ward on the safe house,” he said into the phone, dragging a hand through that thick, dark hair of his. Tension radiated from him. The air around him seemed to shimmer, and for a split second Billie swore she saw the massive white wings sprouting from his back again; there and gone before her brain could process the impossible sight.
“I have no clue,” he growled, the hand in his hair fisting. “Who knew I was coming here?”
Whatever James said, Knight snarled. “That does me fuck-all good, djinn.”
Swallowing, Billie watched him. Someone was not a happy angel.
“No,” he said, flicking her another quick glance. “I’m not going to tell you that.”
James’s answer didn’t please him. “Because I had to. It’s not Guarded Souls’ business. It’s a personal situation.”
Once again, whatever James said, it made Knight snarl. “Listen, I need to get…a human somewhere safe. A malevolent being, possible another fallen, has done something insanely stupid, dangerously so, and if I don’t get her—yes, I said her. No, you can’t. I just need to get her safe. And I can’t because some bastard has put an angel ward on the safe house!”
Billie chewed on her bottom lip. Destiny’s Knight had covered a menagerie of supernatural and mythological beings in its four-year run, but angels hadn’t made an appearance in any episodes so far. Which meant she had nothing to go on regarding the world Knight was from. Were there symbols that could cripple or hamper an angel?
She squinted at the cabin. The night’s full moon fought against the heavy clouds in the sky, barely illuminating the building’s walls. There didn’t seem to be anything painted on them, but who was to say an angel ward would be painted on? For all she knew, it could be scratched into the woodwork. Or spelled out in pebbles on the ground. Hell, one of the techniques her character had implemented to combat a monster-of-the-week had been to smear raw egg yolks across all thresholds.
She wasn’t a method actress, but she found the mythology behind some of her character’s nonhuman foes and friends fascinating. She researched most of them, creeping herself out sometimes, laughing herself silly at others. She still found the concept of the batsquatch hilarious. As for angels…the only thing she knew of angels was what her mother and aunt had told her over and over like a mantra: God’s angels watch over us and do His bidding.
If God—if there really was such a higher being—had sent the snarling, sexy, too-hot-for-words angel in front of her to kidnap her, she really wanted to have a word with Him. He was clearly off His game. Or had a bad sense of humor.
“No!”
Knight’s loud growl jerked her attention back to him.
He studied her over his shoulder, fist still in his hair, eyes a shimmering silver light she doubted had anything to do with the hidden moon. A shiver ran up her spine. Her nipples hardened. A warm flutter bloomed in her belly, and lower.
She held that disquieting, nonhuman stare, incapable of looking away. In her throat, her pulse turned into a cannon.
“No,” he said again, breaking eye-contact by turning back to the cabin. “I don’t need you coming here. Or anyone else from Guarded Souls. I can handle it myself.”
James’s laugh reverberated through the phone all the way to where Billie stood.
“Bite me, djinn,” Knight said, although the insult held the slightest tinge of mirth.
&n
bsp; Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he let out a loud sigh and rubbed at the back of his neck.
“So?” She pinched her thumbnail. “We’re going to hang out in the bushes? Or can I just go on inside? This ward that you’re talking about? Probably doesn’t stop me going in, right?”
Another sigh, this one shaky. Put-upon.
“This is a really interesting rescue mission,” she said. “Just out of interest.”
Knight dropped his hand from his neck. “God, grant me…”
Whatever he wanted God to grant him, he kept it to himself. The muttered words faded to a low groan before he shook his head and turned back to her.
“Okay, change of plans.” He closed the distance between them, snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her hard to his body.
“Hey, what—”
His wings appeared.
“Oh great,” she muttered, even as her heart slammed into her throat and the junction of her thighs grew hot. “Here we go a—”
Everything turned into a blur.
The sound of massive feathers sliding together reverberated in her ears, through her body, her soul, and then—just as her brain digested the fact there was no longer cool moss under her feet—she stood on lush carpet. In a split second she’d gone from being outside amongst trees, to inside some kind of building.
But what kind?
“We’re here,” Knight murmured.
* * * *
She was meant to be home.
He was told she’d be home. He was promised she’d be here.
Promised.
Promised she’d be with him. Forever.
He’d given everything—everything—for that to be the case.
And that was okay. Because they were meant to be together. She was his Destiny. She breathed for him. She’d said so, in his dreams. More than once.
But that bitch-cow Adelaide Williams had kept him from her. Kept his words of love and devotion from her. Surrounded her with knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing muscle so he couldn’t talk to her. Hold her. Love her.
So he’d done what any man in his situation would do.
He’d sold the only thing of real worth.
His soul.
Willingly gave it up. For her. For them.
Destiny's Knight: A Fallen Angel Protector Paranormal Romantic Suspense Book (Guarded Souls 1) Page 5
