by Larissa Ione
* * * *
Declan took the next week off from work, spending some of it helping Suzanne look for an apartment in New York, where she’d be taping Angel in the Kitchen. The great thing about it was that the apartment was really for show. Since she could flash anywhere she wanted to go, she didn’t have to actually live there.
Which meant they could live where they wanted to, and for now they’d decided on Dallas, where he had friends from McKay-Taggart, and she was developing a friendship with people from Top. His apartment was a true bachelor pad, so he was looking forward to finding a new place to live with Suzanne as long as it wasn’t that damned angel mansion. He’d also be cool with a demon-detecting security system.
Turned out that this new world was a busy, dangerous place. And he had a lot of studying to do in order to catch up with everything he needed to know, right down to the gazillion types of demons he might encounter and the history of pretty much every important angel to have ever existed.
A representative from DART, a raspy-voiced guy named Kynan Morgan who was also a bearer of angelic DNA, had met him for an initial interview, and Declan would meet the local Dallas crew next week. And one of the local crew was a fucking werewolf.
Werewolves were real.
He still had a lot of holy shit moments.
And now he just had to figure out how to tell Tag that he was quitting McKay-Taggart.
He practiced his spiel as he sat in Tag’s office, waiting for his boss to arrive. A couple minutes later, Tag slipped inside with an apology for being late. Well, it was as close as he ever came to an apology, anyway.
“Fucking jackass,” he muttered on the way to the desk.
“Me? What did I do?”
“Not you.” Tag sank down into his desk chair, and Dec couldn’t help but watch for signs that he remembered, on even the deepest level, that he and Suzanne had come for the dagger. “So how’d the assignment go? I was surprised when Ms. D’Angelo said you were no longer needed.”
“Stalker situation handled.”
“Good. Because we need to talk about the D.C. assignment.”
Declan groaned. “Not this again. Ian, Suzanne got a job in New York and I want to spend time with her there. That’s why I’m here.”
Tag sat back, mild surprise raising his brows. “Huh.” And then he was all smiles. “It’s about fucking time you got into the game. I was starting to worry about you.”
“How nice that my sex life was cause for concern,” Declan drawled. “So are we done with this D.C. nonsense? Because we need to talk.”
“I wish I could say no. But there’s someone here to see you.” Tag got up and went to the door. “Says he’s your uncle. Lawrence Cantor. He’s the one who wanted to hire you for Senator McRory. Says he’s McRory’s aide or something. I checked his background, and he’s not a lunatic, but if you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. But the guy is insistent. And he’s a world-class prick. I’ll be happy to have security escort him out if you want.”
It was tempting. Declan had only met his father’s younger brother once, at one of the weekends out at the lake cabin. Uncle Larry had been an obnoxious braggart who had clearly hated “snot-nosed” kids. The guy was a world-class prick, all right.
“No, send him in,” Declan told Tag. “I’m curious now.” And he could give his notice later.
“You got it.”
Tag left, and a moment later a balding, overweight man who was shorter and way less fit than Declan remembered came inside.
“Hi, Declan.” He held out his meaty hand. “You’ve sure grown up.”
Declan came to his feet, but he didn’t offer his own hand. “Twenty years will do that to you.”
Larry dropped his arm, looking a little perturbed. “I was hoping you’d come to Washington. I didn’t want to fly out here. Never did like the heat much.”
“And I never liked Washington much. What do you want, Larry? To apologize for hitting me in the head with your half-empty beer cans?” And there were a lot of them. The bastard would laugh and laugh, and he’d then laugh harder when Declan complained about it.
Can’t take a little joke, you crybaby pussy? Boo hoo. Life’s tough. Get used to it.
Larry’s perturbed look turned irritated. “That was a long time ago. We’re both adults, so let’s talk like it. I’m here to make sure you keep your mouth shut about your paternity.”
Declan snorted. “Must be an election year.”
“Your father is thinking about running for president,” Larry said, leaving Declan too stunned to respond. “We’d like to offer you a tidy sum in exchange for your word, and a signed contract, of course, that you’ll never reveal the truth about your father’s identity.”
Oh, hell, no. Declan’s knowledge was the one thing he had that could make his father sweat. The guy had been looking over his shoulder for years, and with a presidential bid on the line, he’d be constantly paranoid. No amount of money could take that simple pleasure away from Declan.
“No.” He gestured to the door. “Get out.”
Ugly splotches of red colored Larry’s cheeks and his fishy pale lips peeled back from his teeth. “Listen to me, you ungrateful piece of shit. We’re offering six figures, more money than you’ve probably ever seen. I suggest you take it.”
“Money doesn’t mean jack shit.”
“Says someone who doesn’t have it.”
Seriously, Declan wanted to punch this fuck. “You think money makes you better than me.”
“I know it does.” Larry’s chest puffed out like he was a big, ridiculous rooster. “Did you go to an elite prep school? Did you get an advanced degree at an Ivy League college? Did you—”
“Did you serve your country in the military?” Declan took a step closer. “Have you ever put your hands inside a man to pinch off an artery and stop him from bleeding out? Ever even fucking stopped to help an elderly person cross a busy street?” Declan moved even closer, stalking him, enjoying the fact that he was much taller than this jerk off. “Tell me. What do you have besides your billions?”
“I have houses all over the world.” Larry’s voice was shrill with outrage that someone had dared to call him out on his self-importance. “Casinos. I own a goddamned private island resort. I can get anything I want with a phone call. Women beg to suck my dick.”
“Yeah, okay. Who wouldn’t love all of that? But I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t say you have friends. A family who loves you. Self-respect. Did your Ivy League school teach you to survive? Not survive on Wall Street or in politics, but to really survive. You know, in the real world.” He jammed his finger into Uncle Larry’s sternum. “Take away your money, what have you got? In a lot of survival situations, money is worthless. Put you in a major disaster or real danger and you’ll break like a twig. You’d lick my boots and beg for my help in a demon apocalypse. You’re nothing, man. Waste of fucking air and a waste of my time.”
He reached around Larry and opened the office door. “Get the fuck out, and tell my father to never make contact again.”
“This isn’t over, Declan,” Larry said as he left. But it was. Because for the first time in his life, Declan was able to put the past where it belonged.
And also because Declan would make sure his father never sat in the Oval Office.
Assuming his father wasn’t Primori and destined for it, of course. But even if he was, Declan was comfortable with the knowledge that there was a hell for people like him, and it was only a matter of time before his bad deeds—and the Grim Reaper—caught up with them.
In the meantime, Declan would enjoy his life.
And right now, his life was waiting for him at his apartment, and according to the text she’d just sent, she was cooking sexy food and wanted a taste tester. Obviously, he volunteered.
Not all heroes wore capes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Six weeks after Suzanne signed the contract for the network cooking show, she filmed her first ep
isode. She prepared sticky hot ribs with a celebration theme, and after they wrapped, the crew had eaten what she’d cooked. What followed had been a wild party she and Declan hadn’t escaped from until well after midnight.
They were going to be late.
She flashed them to her apartment, where they spent about half their time lately. Declan’s bachelor pad was adequate, but they needed to find a bigger place, and she liked the giant kitchen in her high-rise flat. Besides, it seemed like one of her brothers or sisters was always popping in, and her apartment had become an unofficial headquarters for leading the hunt to find Cipher.
So far...they’d found nothing. Flail had disappeared completely, leaving no leads, and Cipher, if he was still alive, hadn’t shown his face anywhere, either. One thing was certain, though; they would never give up looking.
The moment they materialized in the living room, she rushed to the computer in the office, dragging Declan with her.
“He’s going to be pissed that he had to wait,” she muttered as she woke the screen, and sure enough, her father was trying to connect with her via Skype.
This was not the way she’d wanted Azagoth to meet Declan for the first time. Why the hell couldn’t the Memitim Council make an exception to the rule that Primori couldn’t enter Shoul-gra? They’d given permission to Hawkyn’s mate, Aurora, after all.
Hawkyn had tried to explain that his situation was different because Aurora wasn’t Primori; the baby inside her was. Still, he was attempting to have the rule abolished. Aurora’s skills as a Wytch and a massage therapist would be useful in Sheoul-gra, and being able to bring the baby to work would not only be great for them, but it would help ensure the child would stay safe. After all, what safer environment for a Primori than a realm full of Memitim?
“Hello, Father,” she said as his face filled the screen. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.” She tugged Declan down beside her so he was in the frame. “This is Declan.”
Declan nodded. “Mr…Reaper.”
Azagoth grunted. “So you’re the human who stole my daughter from me.”
“I didn’t steal her from you, sir.” Declan wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her tight against his big chest. “She’ll always be your daughter. I’m just here to worship her.”
Her heart pounded against her rib cage so forcefully she was sure her father could hear it.
She was positively gooey with love, but her father wasn’t as enamored. “Suzanne is special to me,” Azagoth said, his deep voice scraping gravel. “So worship her well and remember that my reach extends beyond my realm’s borders.”
Declan inclined his head respectfully. “Understood.”
“Suzanne.” Her father’s expression softened when he looked at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nodded. “I’m volunteering to mentor one of the new arrivals. A thirteen-year-old.”
The teen, a half-sister, had been orphaned recently in a civil war and was living in a refugee camp. Hopefully, learning she had another family and a new shot at life would help ease some of the pain, but Suzanne knew firsthand how long the pain of losing loved ones could last.
“Good,” Azagoth said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Grinning, she said good-bye. That was the first time he’d sounded like he was looking forward to their “dailies.” She wondered if he was lonely. Lilliana hadn’t returned to him yet, and he had to be desperate for her.
“See?” she said to Declan. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“For you, maybe. I thought he was going to reach through the screen and strangle me.” He let out a sigh of relief and beelined straight for the kitchen. “I’m going to get a beer or ten. Want anything?”
“No,” she said, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the island. “I just want to watch you.”
He shot her a sly grin as he bent to grab a sparkling water from the fridge. “Yeah? Then what?”
“Then I’m going to peel off all your clothes and take advantage of you. Maybe in the shower.” She reached up and unbuttoned the first two buttons on her blouse. “Or right here.”
Straightening, he set the bottle on the counter. “I don’t think I’m thirsty anymore.”
“No?”
“No.” His eyes darkened and his voice went low. “Now I’m hungry.”
“You’re insatiable,” she purred. “I love it. I love you.”
He came around the island and gripped her thighs, spreading them with gentle pressure. His mouth came down on hers as he stepped between her legs, his erection pressing into her core through their pants.
“I love you too, Suzanne. Every day I thank Fate that you were my guardian angel.”
Every day she did the same. But the truth wasn’t quite that simple. She’d been assigned to protect him, but in the end, it was he who had saved her life. It was he who had allowed her to break away from a life path she would have hated. It was he who had helped her to fulfill the dreams she’d had since the first time she’d baked cookies with her grandma.
So yes, she’d been assigned to keep him safe, but in the end, it was he who was the real guardian. He was, truly, her guardian angel.
<<<<>>>>
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Close Cover by Lexi Blake
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Remy Guidry doesn’t do relationships. He tried the marriage thing once, back in Louisiana, and learned the hard way that all he really needs in life is a cold beer, some good friends, and the occasional hookup. His job as a bodyguard with McKay-Taggart gives him purpose and lovely perks, like access to Sanctum. The last thing he needs in his life is a woman with stars in her eyes and babies in her future.
Lisa Daley’s life is going in the right direction. She has graduated from college after years of putting herself through school. She’s got a new job at an accounting firm and she’s finished her Sanctum training. Finally on her own and having fun, her life seems pretty perfect. Except she’s lonely and the one man she wants won’t give her a second look.
There is one other little glitch. Apparently, her new firm is really a front for the mob and now they want her dead. Assassins can really ruin a fun girls’ night out. Suddenly strapped to the very same six-foot-five-inch hunk of a bodyguard who makes her heart pound, Lisa can’t decide if this situation is a blessing or a curse.
As the mob closes in, Remy takes his tempting new charge back to the safest place he knows—his home in the bayou. Surrounded by his past, he can’t help wondering if Lisa is his future. To answer that question, he just has to keep her alive.
* * * *
Her Guardian Angel by Larissa Ione
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After a difficult childhood and a turbulent stint in the military, Declan Burke finally got his act together. Now he’s a battle-hardened professional bodyguard who takes his job at McKay-Taggart seriously and his playtime – and his playmates – just as seriously. One thing he never does, however, is mix business with pleasure. But when the mysterious, gorgeous Suzanne D’Angelo needs his protection from a stalker, his desire for her burns out of control, tempting him to break all the rules…even as he’s drawn into a dark, dangerous world he didn’t know existed.
Suzanne is an earthbound angel on her critical first mission: protecting Declan from an emerging supernatural threat at all costs. To keep him close, she hires him as her bodyguard. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that she’s in over her head,
defenseless against this devastatingly sexy human who makes her crave his forbidden touch.
Together they’ll have to draw on every ounce of their collective training to resist each other as the enemy closes in, but soon it becomes apparent that nothing could have prepared them for the menace to their lives…or their hearts.
* * * *
Justify Me by J. Kenner
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McKay-Taggart operative Riley Blade has no intention of returning to Los Angeles after his brief stint as a consultant on mega-star Lyle Tarpin’s latest action flick. Not even for Natasha Black, Tarpin’s sexy personal assistant who’d gotten under his skin. Why would he, when Tasha made it absolutely clear that—attraction or not—she wasn’t interested in a fling, much less a relationship.
But when Riley learns that someone is stalking her, he races to her side. Determined to not only protect her, but to convince her that—no matter what has hurt her in the past—he’s not only going to fight for her, he’s going to win her heart. Forever.
* * * *
Say You Won't Let Go by Corinne Michaels
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I’ve had two goals my entire life:
1. Make it big in country music.
2. Get the hell out of Bell Buckle.
I was doing it. I was on my way, until Cooper Townsend landed backstage at my show in Dallas.
This gorgeous, rugged, man of few words was one cowboy I couldn’t afford to let distract me. But with his slow smile and rough hands, I just couldn’t keep away.
Now, there are outside forces conspiring against us. Maybe we should’ve known better? Maybe not. Even with the protection from Wade Rycroft, bodyguard for McKay-Taggart, I still don’t feel safe. I won’t let him get hurt because of me. All I know is that I want to hold on, but know the right thing to do is to let go…