Guardian Unraveled

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  Dagan glanced to his side at the tall female standing on the riverbank. He blinked. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it registered that she had hair like the sun, skin darker than his, and eyes the color of leaves. But it was the intricate green patterns running from her eyebrow down to her cheeks that held his attention…they looked like crawling green serpents.

  She stared at him for a long moment before she spoke. “Arise, fallen warrior from the godly realm.”

  There was a command behind those words, pushing through his dizzy mind. Dagan staggered to his feet as if he were inebriated. The angel with the broken eyes appeared at his side.

  “I am Gaia. You’ve confronted the evil that has taken to pillaging my realm and, in your almost mortal state, you have vanquished them.” Those glowing green eyes held his. “Become the realm’s Guardian, and I will give you purpose. You will regain all powers. In time, you will find what you seek…”

  Dagan stared at the wine warming between his palms. Sure, he’d regained his abilities and found a way to resist humans, but now he had to rely on Kaerys’ generosity to feed and recharge. He drained his liquor.

  At the itch bearing down his back, he looked up. A young, tattooed human seated across the counter cast him a sultry stare.

  He shoved to his feet and stalked outside. The sun had set. Night cloaked the village.

  “There you are…”

  At the slurring voice, Dagan cut an impatient look over his shoulder. Lust and liquor wafted off the horny human who’d followed him out. “You sure you want me? You’ll die.”

  “As long as your cock’s inside me, I don’t care.”

  Damn idiot was wasted, had no idea of the reality. Besides, he didn’t roll that way.

  Willing him gone, Dagan headed deeper into the rundown alley, his mood in the crapper.

  There was only one person he wanted, longed for. Just thinking of her and his body coiled tight with arousal. He couldn’t have her.

  Hell, he was hurtling headlong toward a fatal collision, yet he couldn’t seem to slow down any more than he could stop breathing.

  In the early hours of the morning, after a hunt in the nearby forest to satiate his hunger, Dagan took form in the monastery courtyard. As he made his way into the kitchen, Hedori turned from the fridge and shut the door. “I’m sorry about the delay, sire. I have left Shae’s things at your door since she sleeps. Oh, I’ve two containers of pies and cookies in the fridge, they’re ready to pop into the oven.”

  Dagan nodded his thanks grateful at the Empyrean’s thoughtfulness.

  “Wait,” he called out as Hedori headed for the door. “I need someone to stay here for the duration Shae resides, to see to things and keep her safe when I’m out on patrol. Not Eron. The old fool spends most of his time in the village chasing after the females. Get Angelus.”

  “Certainly.” Hedori hesitated, then asked, “Did you pick up anything else when you went back to The Tower?”

  “I found the scourge who shot Shae. Got rid of him.”

  “That’s good to hear. I meant about her mother.”

  Dagan frowned. “No…and Shae doesn’t speak much about it,” he said, taking the merlot from the shelf. “She only mentioned her mother had taken off a couple of months ago, wanted her own life.”

  “She did?” Hedori’s brow creased in confusion. “It doesn’t make sense or tie in with the sadness and despair I felt in the penthouse.”

  Dagan leaned against the counter and sipped his drink. “My thoughts, exactly. But I can’t do anything about it until I get back.”

  “I can help out there. I’ll make inquiries and watch The Tower, see what turns up.” Hedori opened the outer door.

  “Be careful.”

  The older Empyrean inclined his head, a hard smile on his face, reminding Dagan that he hadn’t always been the amiable butler they saw daily—he’d been a protector. “Always am. You forget who’s been under my care for millennia. As vast and dangerous as his powers are, he could never evade or kill me—a gift, courtesy of the mage of Empyrea for protecting that intractable Empyrean sovereign. Though I thought it a curse in those earlier days. Burnt clothes, singed hair…” He shook his head wryly.

  Dagan found a rare moment of amusement filling him at Hedori’s dry discourse about protecting a young Aethan. His smile faded. “If you find anything, call me. I don’t want you caught in the middle if this turns bad.”

  Hedori’s lips thinned briefly. “Very well, sire.”

  “And about that, it’s Dagan, D-man, or whatever the hell the others call me these days.”

  “Barbarian?”

  He scowled at the twinkle in the wiseass’ odd, orange-green eyes. “No.”

  Laughing, Hedori walked out into the back courtyard when Dagan recalled something else he wanted to ask. He set the glass on the counter and hurried after him. “Hedori, wait.” He found a twig, and on the dusty ground, he roughly drew the knots with the open end he’d seen on Shae’s wrist. “Do you know what this symbol means?”

  The Empyrean studied it. “I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. I’ll be in touch.”

  After Hedori had left, Dagan collected Shae’s luggage and made his way to the last room. With a wave of his hand, he lit the taper on a dusty nightstand and set the case aside. The place was hardly habitable and covered with a layer of dust. Too tired to care, he shed his clothes, swiped the sheet off the bed, and dropped onto the mattress. The four tall bedposts loomed over him as if standing guard.

  For as long as he could remember, his life had been that of a protector, first his mother and sister after his old man had taken off; then, when his sister became the Goddess of Life. And after being released from Tartarus, as Guardian of the human realm. Now, Shae.

  At the thought, he threw his arm over his brow, a rough sigh escaping him. How the hell could he keep her safe from the worst danger she might face? She’d soon start to feel the pull of their mating bond, and it had tragedy written all over it.

  A moan drifted to him…followed by clattering.

  He lowered his arm. Frowning, Dagan pushed off the bed and, using the connecting door, entered his room. It was like stepping into an icebox. The windows stood open. With a thought, he shut them and crossed to the bed. Shae huddled beneath the thin cover, trembling. He never used anything when he slept, even in this high altitude and with the freezing temperatures at night. But she was human. Her teeth clacked together, forcing him to act.

  He glanced down at himself. Naked would be asking for trouble. He got out sweats from his closet, pulled them on, then fed the dying embers in the fireplace more wood before heading to the bed. “Move over.”

  She peered out from beneath the covers. “I-I’m okay.”

  “Sure, you are.” He lifted the thin sheet. She wore a black t-shirt and sweats…his. Damn, he should have gotten her clothes, some damn warm pajamas at least, and she wouldn’t be freezing now. He got in and drew her close. She shuddered as her icy body slid alongside his. “You should have called me.”

  She didn’t say anything, burrowing deeply into him as if searching for every bit of heat he possessed. He willed his warmth into her, stroking her back. As the shivering eased, her body loosened. Soon, a soft sigh caressed his skin as sleep took her over.

  Or so he thought.

  “Did you…feed?”

  A sigh barreled out of him. “Go to sleep.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes.”

  Her entire body went taut. She rolled away and curled up on the other end of the mattress.

  “How the hell will you get warm on that side?”

  She remained silent. He reached for her.

  “Don’t.” She flung out a hand, stopping him.

  Dagan glared at the ceiling. He should just go back to the other room, get some sleep. Then it hit him—his taunting her earlier. Hell, she thought he’d fed and fucked another woman, then came to her?

  Scowling, he leaped off the bed. Sure, he could be an ass
hole at times, but he did have a few ethics he abided by. One of which was, he didn’t cheat, never had…unlike his old man.

  He stalked around the bed and crouched at her side. A swathe of red hair covered her face. “If it eases your mind, I fed from an animal.”

  She appeared so still, he was sure she’d stopped breathing. After a second, maybe several, she said, “You don’t have to explain. It’s none of my business what you do.”

  “Then why ask?”

  When she didn’t answer, frustrated to his eyeballs, he gritted out, “You’re shivering, and I won’t have you falling ill. It’s been a long damn night, so move over.”

  When she stubbornly remained where she was, he picked her up, repositioned her, and lay down again. This time, he kept her locked at his side. She squirmed, trying to put space between them or probably wanting to leave and go find another bed. But her movements were having a serious effect on his body.

  “For hellssake,” he snapped. “I swear by every damn star in the sky, you wriggle again, I’ll have you beneath me and my cock inside you in a heartbeat—is that what you want?”

  She went utterly still.

  Yeah, thought not.

  Several minutes later, when she finally relaxed in sleep, her hand slid over his chest as if to keep him there. Yeah, right.

  Dagan shut his eyes, his dick a throbbing ache between his thighs. Hell, he’d fucked-up spectacularly keeping her at a distance. He shouldn’t have bothered with an explanation. She didn’t believe him anyway.

  Yet, in spite of what his brain theorized—it was safer this way—his heart overruled, wanting her.

  The rhythmic thudding of her heart soon filled his ears, the gentle flow of blood in her veins a compelling lure. Fuck! He shut his eyes, trying to shut off the sounds as need wired his body to a razor’s edge.

  To stop the endless torture, he untangled himself from her seductive warmth. Since the kind of release he longed for wasn’t going to happen, and he wasn’t interested in a hand job, he’d settle for a brutal workout.

  Satisfied that she was warm and the burning logs would last for several hours, he left the room and jogged upstairs to Nik’s chamber. The warrior didn’t sleep. Ever. He lay sprawled on his bed in a freezing room more barren than his own, and still in his patrolling gear. An arm flung over his eyes.

  “Nik”—he nudged his shoulder—“let’s go.”

  “Fuck, Dag-man,” he grunted. “I just got in. Go annoy Race.”

  Race was worse than all of them when it came to his solitude. He completely shunned everyone and rarely stayed at the monastery, preferring his mountainous caves.

  Dagan dematerialized to the summit some distance from the monastery, determined to haul him out of his hidey-hole. As he took form, the brisk winds slapping his bare chest barely registered. There, on the plateau, he found Race, still in his patrolling gear, minus a shirt.

  Despite the dark sky, the cold, pale moonlight emphasized the warrior’s flowing silver hair, broken only by the strip of black at the front. Brandishing curved twin blades, he moved with a deliberation that was as lethal as the steel of his dragon blades.

  From the dying Lemurian pantheon, Eracier—aka Race—was one of the few of his kind left, and every bit as deadly as the black dragon warrior he’d been spawned from. He looked up and smirked. “Wanna play, Sumerian?”

  Dagan didn’t respond to the taunt, summoning one of his many swords.

  Race’s twin blades vanished, and a broadsword appeared in his left hand. He flew in the air, weapon swinging. Dagan lunged and countered. They spun around each other, slicing, blocking, and attacking.

  “You’re in a mood,” Race grinned, revealing his own pointy canines. A deadly reminder that those fangs became a mouthful of deadly chompers when he shifted into his huge motherfucking alter ego.

  “So…” An eyebrow cocked. “You found your mate, eh? I smell her on you.”

  Dagan said nothing, anger, longing, and frustration roiling through him.

  “Human then,” Race murmured. “Sure sucks. But let’s work that fury outta you. I’m in a mood myself.”

  Dagan didn’t ask why. There was only one thing that drove Race—drove them all—these centuries since their release from Tartarus.

  Revenge.

  Chapter 9

  At the unearthly peace and warmth surrounding her, Shae’s eyes opened in confusion. It took a moment to realize sunlight streamed in through the closed window and that the room was toasty warm. But Dagan was gone.

  When she recalled her jealous outburst before she’d used him as her personal blanket, she grimaced and rubbed her burning face. But she was aware, too, she’d only fallen asleep after he told her he’d fed from an animal.

  It’s none of my business whom he fed from or slept with. Irritated at herself for stewing over it, she sat up, picked up her cell from the nightstand to call one of the two men who never let her down. She’d call Harvey later. Lem first, or he’d worry if she didn’t check in. There was already a missed call from him. She hit speed dial.

  He answered on the first ring. “Shae?”

  “Uncle Lem—”

  “Thank God! Are you all right? I called your cell, you didn’t answer. And the hotel you were registered at in Anchorage said you hadn’t checked in.”

  Crap. She’d forgotten to cancel. “Because I’m not staying there. I’m er, camping out”—she winced at the lie—“and I was out of Wi-Fi range, but I’m fine. I just got into town and called so you wouldn’t worry.”

  Silence. “I see… When are you coming back?”

  Uneasiness stirred at his quiet tone. He didn’t believe her? “As soon as I’m done. Uncle, I have a shot at working for National Geographic. I don’t want to mess this up.”

  “I understand, child. Actually, I have some wonderful news. You remember those businessmen who approached me to run for mayor in the next election? Well, I’ve decided to do it.”

  “Really?” She grinned, tucking her long bangs behind her ear. “I’m so happy for you. I’ll help you any way I can.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. I’d like you to be there for my speech. It’s next week.”

  “I will be. Do you want me to look over your notes?”

  “That would be wonderful. When you get back, we can talk more. Goodbye, Shae. Go take some great pictures.”

  Darn. She rubbed her temple and stared at her silent phone, her guilt constricting her like a noose. While she was happy with the news of him running for mayor since it was something he’d wanted for as long as she could remember, how could she tell him the truth about the supernatural threat she faced? Demons who hunted humans with strong psychic abilities. Knowing Lem, he’d come after her, walk right into danger—and probably death. He was way too protective.

  At a new unread message, she opened it. Harvey. You didn’t call? Are you postponing the summoning?

  She chewed her lower lip then typed back. Yes. Something came up. I’ll call you later.

  As if he were waiting, a message instantly came back. Okay. As long as you’re all right. Saw you with HIM, was worried.

  She remembered Harvey saying something about saving his cousin from certain death, and now he was in trouble with that cold Guardian bastard—his words.

  Since she’d met said Guardian, yeah, she understood. No way would Dagan have let that infraction go. Well, she wasn’t letting any of them touch her friend.

  Spying her luggage on the ebony chest, she breathed a sigh of relief. A half-hour later, showered and changed, Shae left the room, tying her hair into a ponytail.

  Low, masculine humming coming from the kitchen had her frowning. Dagan would probably jump off this mountain before he’d hum, and she couldn’t see Nik doing so either. But the delicious aroma of something baked scented the air, and her stomach kicked up a fuss.

  Curious, she quickened her steps and stopped dead at the threshold.

  A tall guy, about eighteen or so, was pulling out a tray of cooki
es from the wood-burning oven, but damn, the entire place was spotless. He sported skinny black pants and boots. His rich, mahogany-red hair was pulled into a low ponytail, a colorful contrast against the dark blue tunic he wore.

  “Good morning,” she called out. Sheesh, it was likely past midday.

  He whipped around. His striking purplish eyes widened, as did hers. Whoa! His ears—dammit, they were pointed!

  “Good morn, my lady. I am Angelus.” His voice pulled her out of her gawking. A smile lit his incredibly gorgeous face. Oh, man, he looked like an angel.

  “Please, call me Shae. So, what are you?”

  “The help. Hedori sent for me. I’m to take care of this place.”

  Laughing, she swiped an oatmeal cookie from the tray, took a bite, and chewed. “No, I mean, what are you? Angel, elf—”

  “I’m fae. You are human.”

  “And she’s not a collectible,” her nemesis said, coming into the kitchen.

  Shae wheeled around and nearly choked on the cookie she’d just taken another bite of. Heat suffused her face when she recalled cuddling up to him as if he were her own personal heater. “Collectible?” she asked.

  “It’s what faes do. They like to keep humans as possessions. They steal them and whisk them off to Exilum, a place just beyond the veils of this world.”

  Jeez. She arched an eyebrow at Angelus. “Really? Not happening.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “I know. You’re important here and off-limits.”

  Rolling her eyes, she faced Dagan again, struggling not to blush. “Thanks for last night.”

  He stared at her for a second. Something dark flashed in those sun-bright irises and disappeared as fast. “Just make sure the windows are shut at night,” he said, heading for the side door to the backyard.

  She frowned. But she had shut them. Then shrugging off the thought, she hurried after him. “Dagan, wait.”

  He slowed. Those broad shoulders lifted then dropped as if in a weary sigh. She rounded to his front. “Will you teach me to fight?”