Her Guardian Angel

by Larissa Ione

  Hawkyn hesitated, and Azagoth resisted the instinctive urge to snap. But Lilliana had left for a reason. She’d left so he’d learn to deal with his children and his emotions without using her as a crutch.

  It pissed him off.

  But he wasn’t going to get her back until he figured this shit out, so instead of giving in to his impatience, he was going to wait for Hawk to speak.

  He waited two more heartbeats. Fuck it. “Fucking spit it out, son. I have a backlog of souls to inspect and Lilliana is going to Skype me in”—He glanced at his watch—“five minutes.”

  She Skyped every day, and seeing her face was the only thing that kept him sane. Yes, she was gone, but he had to admit that their chats had been...fun. Almost as if they were dating over the Internet. They’d skipped the whole dating routine, what with Lilliana being forced to mate him. Things had been rough at first, but they’d found love quickly. Maybe too quickly.

  As much as he hated to admit it, he liked the way things were going between them. Lilliana was always flirty and full of laughter, and they sometimes talked for hours, learning things about each other that they hadn’t known before.

  And the Skype sex was incredible.

  But it was time for her to come home, and he was going to tell her that today.

  “Suzanne is living with her Primori.”

  Azagoth blinked at Hawkyn’s blunt statement. “She’s what?”

  With a frustrated growl, Hawk jammed his fingers through his hair, which was already a mess, probably from doing just that. “A Siecher demon is after her Primori, and its psychic attacks don’t trigger her heraldi. So she thought it would be a good idea to hire her Primori as a bodyguard to keep him close. And I think she’s falling for him.”

  Azagoth cursed, but he wasn’t surprised. Suzanne had never been cut out to be Memitim. She was too soft-hearted. Too...human. Of all his children, she was the only one who made a special effort to see him every day, even if it was just to say hi or ask how his day went. She’d once told him that it was “a thing” she’d done with her human father. She’d either seen him or called him every single day from the time she was six until the day she was plucked out of the human world and deposited into the Memitim one. Only she hadn’t called the human her father. She’d called him Daddy.

  And he just now realized that he hadn’t seen her in days. Shame at not having noticed clawed at him, and his inner demon stirred. He tamped it down with the promise of blood later and addressed Hawkyn. “Why is the Siecher after her Primori?”

  “We weren’t sure, but I just got back from going through some of the records filed by his prior guardian. Looks like during the near-apocalypse Declan killed the head of the demon’s family. He slaughtered a lot of demons. He was a surprisingly lethal and prolific demon slayer for a human.”

  “This...Declan. He’s aware of our world?”

  “No.” Hawkyn glanced over at the massive fireplace, where flames as tall as Azagoth licked at the inner walls. Since Lilliana had gone, the flames had been cold. “His memory was altered afterward.”

  “Huh.”

  Hawkyn stared. “Huh?”

  Azagoth glanced at his watch. Lilliana was going to call at any second. “I’ll talk to her,” he assured Hawkyn.

  But he didn’t need to. Unless Suzanne was in physical danger, he probably wasn’t going to. As someone who could read souls, he’d come to sense when one was in flux. Suzanne was at a crossroads, and she needed to be in charge of her own destiny. Whatever mistakes or successes she made, she had to own.

  “Now,” Azagoth said, as his laptop beeped, “I need some privacy. Oh, and Hawkyn?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Keep an eye on your sister. I would be…inconsolable…if anything were to happen to her.”

  “Of course.” Hawkyn bowed his head. “Thank you.”

  Azagoth barely heard Hawkyn leave. His entire focus was on Lilliana now, and somehow, he had to convince her to come home.

  * * * *

  Lilliana missed Azagoth so much it hurt, and as she looked down at him on her cell phone’s screen, she absently stroked her finger over his cheek.

  “You’re at the beach today, I see.” She missed his smoky, deep voice, too.

  “Ares’s island is lovely.” Waves lapped at her feet as she sat in the warm sand, a salty breeze teasing her chestnut hair.

  Azagoth frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Is that a hellhound behind you?”

  She looked over her shoulder at the pitch-black creature watching her from behind a dune and sighed. “That’s Maleficent. She’s been following me around for weeks.”

  “I don’t like that,” Azagoth growled.

  “It’s fine. I feel sorry for her. She’s really small for a hellhound, and the rest of the hounds torment her.”

  Ares’s mate, Cara, was some sort of hellhound whisperer, and their island was crawling with the things. Maleficent had latched onto Lilliana from almost the minute Reaver had brought her to stay with the Horseman and his mate. Lilliana had yet to be able to pet the young hound, but she hadn’t pushed it, content to let Maleficent come to her when she was comfortable.

  Azagoth cocked a dark eyebrow. “How small is small?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. About half the size of a normal one?” Considering the damned things were the size of a bull moose, Mal was still big at half of that.

  “You shouldn’t be there,” he said, the change of subject giving her whiplash.

  Feigning ignorance, she rolled her eyes. “The beach is perfectly safe.”

  “I’m not talking about the beach and you know it. Come home.”

  She twirled her hair around her finger and flipped the subject around again. “How are the children you brought from the human realm settling in?”

  His expression said they’d come back to his choice of topic but that for now, he’d humor her. “Some of them are handling their situation well.”

  “And the others?”

  He frowned, his frustration putting deep creases between his dark brows. “They’re troubled. And strange. Their slang is obnoxious.”

  She bit back a laugh. He’d had the oldest children brought in first, which meant he was dealing with teenagers. She’d actually like to see that.

  “Well, remember, they’re usually taken for fifty years of training at Memitim centers before you ever meet them.” She smiled. “They’re civilized by then.”

  “I don’t have the patience for it. What if this was a mistake?”

  What he was really asking was, “What if I make a mistake?”

  Azagoth was so wracked with guilt for allowing his children to be abandoned at birth in the human realm and raised in the worst conditions imaginable. Once upon a time, he didn’t care. He had been an evil, unfeeling monster until Lilliana had come along. Since then he’d opened his realm—and his heart—to his children, and for the most part, it had gone well. But emotion was a new drug to Azagoth, and it was taking time to figure out the right dosage.

  “It’s not a mistake,” she said gently. “These are the older ones, and they’re going to need more time to adjust. You’ll feel differently when the little ones start arriving.”

  “I don’t think so. Children don’t belong here, Lilliana.”

  “And you think they belong in the human world, in the worst possible homes they could have?”

  “So it’s a choice between Hell and hell.” He shook his head. “What if I lose my temper and whip out my demon or decapitate someone in front of them?”

  She’d tell him to stop being dramatic, but there was actually a decent chance of either of those things happening.

  “You’ll just have to work on controlling your temper,” she said. “And it isn’t like they don’t know what you are. I think you’re going to find that they’ll be pretty accepting. After all, you’re a legend, and they’re going to be powerful angels. All in all, I’d say this is an amazing thing for them.”

  Azagoth blew out a lo
ng breath. “There’s another bright side. Hades did point out that I get to be the one to fuck ’em up instead of some other asshole.”

  “That’s the spirit,” she said, trying to keep things light. Azagoth’s mood seemed a little grim, and she didn’t want to fight. “Hades is wise.” The Jailor of the Underworld was a jackass, but he wasn’t stupid. “Oh, and I have news. Cara is pregnant. She told Ares this morning.”

  A shadow passed over his face, his expression going as dark as his mood, and her gut clenched. “How’d he take it? Was he upset?”

  “Was he upset?” she repeated, incredulous. She hadn’t expected him to jump for joy, but this? “Are you serious? He was thrilled. Why would you think anything different?”

  “Ares has lost children before,” Azagoth said. Just dropped that bomb in the space between them.

  And now she got it. She understood his reluctance to completely let his children in. On top of his guilt, Azagoth had been dealing with the grief of losing his children. Meera might have been the most recent to lose her life in the service of Heaven, but there had been hundreds before that.

  She wanted to go home right this instant and hug him, but she couldn’t. Not yet.

  “Poor Ares. I didn’t know,” she said softly.

  “It was a long time ago. Before he became War.”

  A bird called out as it soared along the beach toward Ares’s Greek mansion, where a Ramreel demon was playing tug o’ war with a hellhound pup on the lawn in the very spot where Ares had learned he’d be a father.

  “Well, you’ll be happy to know that he was so excited by the news that he whisked Cara away to go tell their family.”

  “So you’re on the island alone?”

  “Azagoth, I’m fine. Ares’s island is hidden from all eyes, and only a few approved people can pass through the wards. Plus, the place is crawling with Ramreel guards and hellhounds.”

  “Oh,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “if you’d only told me the island is infested with demons at the beginning, I’d have felt much better.”

  “Hon, you’re being a bit of a jerk, so I’m going to go. I love you.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but she didn’t give him the chance. She disconnected the call and took a deep, calming breath. She wanted to go home, but she had to be sure that he’d gotten control of his emotions first. She couldn’t be blamed for his pain again.

  A warm nose nudged at her hand, and she nearly screamed. Then she froze as Maleficent nudged her again before moving a few feet away and plopping down in the sand to look out at the waves.

  That was the first time the canine had gotten this close, let alone touched her. Cara said the things were sensitive to the emotions of those they bonded with. But surely it hadn’t bonded with her. Not that Lilliana knew what was involved with the bonding process.

  “Well, Mal,” she murmured. “What do you think Azagoth would say if I took you back to Sheoul-gra with me?” The hound turned to her, tongue lolling. “Yeah, he’d freak.”

  But that would be nothing compared to what he was going to do when he found out that telling him about Cara’s pregnancy had been a test of the waters.

  Because Lilliana... Well, there was another reason she’d left Azagoth while he dealt with his inner demon.

  She was pregnant too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Declan wasn’t used to being nervous. No, not nervous. Jangly. Was jangly a word? Because that was how his insides had felt all day. He’d only seen Suzanne once since he’d kissed her good-bye and left her in the under-stairs dungeon, and that had been when she’d brought him and Steve lunch. She’d showered and changed into a pair of khaki shorts with a matching, flowing pink and khaki top, and if Steve hadn’t been there, he’d have had that sexy little outfit on the floor.

  She’d given him a flirty smile, probably thinking she’d been covert about it, but the moment the office door had closed behind her, Steve went playground.

  “Ooh, damn.” Steve whistled. “What was that about? You nail her?”

  “No, I didn’t nail her.” He reached for what Suzanne had called a French grilled cheese. Declan wasn’t normally one for bucking the grilled cheese tradition of plain white bread and American cheese slices, but this croissant sandwich with pepper jelly, sliced granny smith apples, brie, and turkey was fucking awesome. He paused before taking a bite. “And shut up.”

  Steve snorted. “You nailed her.” At Declan’s glare, he’d grinned and held up his hands in defense. “Shutting up.”

  That lasted for approximately three seconds.

  “But aren’t you always the one preaching about how it’s harder to protect someone you care about than someone you don’t give a shit about?” Steve grabbed a homemade French fry and dragged it through the garlic aioli Suzanne had made. “That’s bullshit, you know. Just ask Liam and Avery or Case and Mia. If anything, I’d argue that you’ll be even better at keeping someone you care about safe.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re an IT guy. If your computer dies, you can get another one.”

  “That’s harsh, man,” Steve said with mock seriousness. “My computers are my babies.”

  “That’s because you can’t get a woman.”

  Steve considered that as he popped another fry and chewed. “Did you know there’s sex doll porn? Like, dudes fucking sex dolls. On video.”

  “What does that have to do with you not being able to get a woman?” Declan grimaced. “And why do you know that?”

  “Not important.” Steve ate another fry and wiped his fingers on a napkin. “My point is that I’m not that hard up.”

  “Not that hard up to do what? Get a sex doll?”

  “To watch some dude bang one. I mean, how fucking lonely do you have to be to watch someone have sex with a doll?”

  Declan really hadn’t wanted to think too hard on that.

  He and Steve had finished lunch and then got back to searching the house, but Dec hadn’t been able to get Steve’s words about Suzanne out of his mind. You’ll be even better at keeping someone you care about safe.

  Maybe. But the cost of failure was also much, much higher.

  Now, hours later, Steve had gone and Declan shook himself out of thoughts that weren’t doing anything but making him crazy as he pulled Suzanne’s Jag up to the front door. He was not a fan. Sure, the car was nice. Luxurious, plush, drove like a dream. But he felt like a douche driving it. Like he should be wearing a two-thousand-dollar suit and paying three hundred bucks for the same haircut an average person could get for twenty at the local barber.

  He’d take his Rover over her kitty any day.

  His breath caught when she came outside, still in her shorts and blouse, but she’d added a light sweater and strappy sandals, and a lot of blingy jewelry. She was practically glowing, her hair in a high ponytail that bounced as she walked down the sidewalk. If he had to choose just one word to describe her, it would be vibrant. She was a bundle of positive energy that engulfed everything around her, and as he got out to hold the passenger door open for her, he reveled in the way she made him feel.

  “Thank you,” she said, giving him a shy smile that was as bright as the diamond around her throat.

  He wanted to kiss her. Maybe ravage her a little.

  Shit. This was why getting involved with a client was dangerous. He was thinking about getting her into bed when he should be alert to threats.

  Mentally re-ordering his priorities, he shut her door and got back into the car. He put the Jag in gear, waited for the gate to fully open, and then he eased the vehicle down the driveway. Next to him, Suzanne put on her sunglasses, completing her effortless, angelic look. There was even a golden halo surrounding the crown of her head, a trick of a sunbeam striking her glossy hair.

  She was too good for him, and that was something he would never have thought he’d say just a few days ago.

  “Well,” she said, giving a sassy toss of her head as she turned to him, “did Steve find the secret
entrance? Or did you guys just work on security issues?”

  Busted.

  “No,” he said sheepishly. “But did you know there’s a storage room full of some really old and bizarre artifacts and religious stuff?”

  “Really?” Her eyebrows climbed up over the rims of the sunglasses. “Huh. I’d like to see it.”

  She seemed genuinely surprised, and he didn’t doubt it. The room’s entrance had been hidden behind a door disguised as a bookcase, and if Steve hadn’t been specifically looking for a secret door, he never would have found the storage room.

  Declan flipped on the Jag’s blinker and pulled out onto the street.

  Suddenly, a man was there, standing in the middle of the road, his finger pointed at the windshield.

  “Oh, shit!” Suzanne lunged at Declan, slamming her palms into his knee and pushing down, forcing his foot on the gas pedal. “Hit him!”

  “What?” He cranked the steering wheel, and he swore he saw the guy smile as the car swerved wildly.

  A flash of light, so bright it made the noon sun seem dim, blasted his corneas, blinding him with searing pain. Suzanne shouted as he mashed down hard on the brakes. The car skidded sideways to a halt, the squeal of tires fading into the sound of the passenger side door opening.

  Somehow, his vision returned, partially, at least. He saw well enough to watch as Suzanne bailed out of the car and ran toward the man in the road.

  Except it wasn’t a man anymore. He stared, blinking madly, as if doing so would eventually change the image in front of him. Holy fuck, it was a monster. A horned creature straight out of his nightmares. And Suzanne was running right for it.

  “Suzanne!” His hands shook as he simultaneously drew his weapon and opened the car door. As his foot hit the hot pavement, the beast swung a massive ax at Suzanne, and his heart shot into his throat. “Suzanne!”

  She disappeared. Right before Declan’s eyes, she disappeared, and the ax cut through empty air. A split second later, she reappeared behind the creature, scythes whirling like blender blades in her hands. Where had those come from? What the everliving fuck was happening?