The sight was a punch to the gut. She was still nude and had awaited his return before she drifted off to sleep after a long, trying day.
She had waited for him.
He took advantage of the precious moment to look her over. So young. She was twenty-five, with a birthday coming up. He would have to remember that and get her something special.
Then the awful truth clawed its way to the forefront of his conscious. He might look no more than five years older, but he had decades on her. He had lived and experienced a different life. He’d always known exactly what he was meant for. She’d known violence and fear in her short time, and she’d sought him out for her own well-being. Desperation and terror had driven her to his side. To him, and a face that was even more fearsome than her nightmares.
He had been right to keep his distance and allow her the chance to think clearly instead of feeling obligated to him.
He dropped his head and closed his eyes. She was lovely, intelligent, and fiercely loyal. She should be allowed to be all that—with a mate that was destined for her and could be there for her. Not one who left her waiting alone in bed. He couldn’t give her anything other than long, violent work days where she’d fear for his life. More violence and fear.
Bryant allowed himself one long sigh, one moment to regret what he could never have. Then he left the room and headed down to the couch that had been his bed every night he’d slept in the mansion.
Chapter 19
Odessa stretched, her arms reaching out to each side. Her body felt relaxed, pleased, yet still wanting.
She frowned. Daylight streamed through her windows. And her bed was empty. She sat up and looked around the room and over to the settee. Empty.
Had Bryant come back, grabbed some shut-eye, and left again already?
Had he come back at all?
Holding the sheets up to her chest even though no one was around to see her, she thought for a few minutes. What were all the reasons Bryant could be absent?
Climbing out of bed, Odessa went to her closet. She would give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was called away again. Except, the room felt…bare, like he’d never been back. There was no use torturing herself with questions of whether he stayed away of his own freewill, or if it was out of his control.
Odessa scanned her closet. Should she wear a white robe today, or a white robe?
There. A white robe.
She almost had the robe swung around to shrug into when she spotted a yellow sundress. It was the type that could be stepped into and tied around the neck. She usually never wore human clothing in Numen, but the dress had caught her eye because few human fashions could be worn easily with a set of wings. Most had to be adapted. And yellow went well with her coloring, so no matter what was going on with Bryant, she was going to feel spectacular.
She selected the dress and went to the bathroom to wash up and secure her hair into a ponytail. Then she stepped into the dress, tied it, and gave herself a good look.
Nice. The vibrant dress set off her eyes. Her darker hair was only temporary, but the shade was complemented by the color of her clothing. In fact, the dress was so bright, her wings didn’t look washed out next to it. She gave them a little ruffle. Damn, she felt good.
Time to find her mate.
Odessa hopped down the stairs when she saw a familiar form sleeping on the couch. She stopped midway.
What. The. Fuck?
Descending slower this time, she frowned at Bryant. Her footsteps must’ve been enough to wake him. He righted himself and did a double take, but as soon as heat flared in his gaze, it was squashed.
“I’ll go clean up,” he said, folding the blanket. “You go ahead and grab some breakfast. We need to head to the archives and research fallen angels to see if we can narrow down any suspects.”
Okaaay? He stood, still wearing the same clothes he’d worn last night. Clothing she remembered clearly. The same shirt she had felt between her thighs, the one she’d grabbed onto when he was making her come harder than she had ever experienced.
She was speechless. He didn’t give her a second glance as he walked out of the room, but headed to the downstairs bathroom he’d always used.
Hurt gnawed at her chest, and anger made her wings quiver. She didn’t know why he had gotten called away, but he’d chosen to not come back to her. He acted like it hadn’t happened.
She stormed into the kitchen. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She hastily swiped at them. She was the needy girlfriend all over again. Why did she fall for males incapable of the same level of feelings she was?
She wasn’t going to be that person again, begging for a male’s attention. If she was scared, she would learn to fight. Felicia would help her. If she was lonely, she’d get a damn cat. If she had to sleep with a light on every night for the rest of her long life, so be it.
Asshat.
The word made Odessa think of Harper and the tears flowed faster. She missed her human friends, but even a “men suck” text to Harper would be too risky. Odessa couldn’t put someone else’s life in danger.
Okay, step one to not being that girl was to make breakfast. She sniffled and wiped her cheeks off. What did she have to eat? Closing drawers quickly became slamming. Instead of letting a cabinet door drift shut, she shoved it. The satisfying whack was a balm to her rage.
How dare he do that to her? She deserved a motherfucking reason why he didn’t want her anymore.
Calm down. There would be no begging for a reason, no simpering for his attention.
And he could make his own damn breakfast.
Just as Bryant drifted into the kitchen, she marched past him on the way out. He barely looked at her and that dumped gasoline on her raging fire.
How could life turn so quickly? She had just been a normal analyst who went to work and came home. Her only claim to anything remotely wild was her job at the children’s clothing store and dancing with friends on the weekends. To go from that to being hunted and her entire realm in danger, and being part of a select few that knew about any of it, was surreal. Before she thought her life was dedicated to helping her people. Now their safety depended on her. Her and that maddening male in the kitchen.
As if summoned, Bryant exited, munching on an apple. Odessa wished she had her own apple so she could lob it at his head. It wasn’t fair how good he looked, various blades strapped over his form-fitting black shirt and wrapped around his tapered waist. The black tactical pants warriors favored in the field molded against his hips and butt, teasing a girl’s eye all along his legs. Even more unfair was his casual stance, managing to exude power and masculinity while nonchalantly chewing on a damn apple.
“You ever been in the archives?” he asked around his mouthful.
“I’m an analyst, of course I have,” she snapped.
He flinched at the anger she threw into her words. “I’ve only ever been to the main vestibule, not inside the actual record rooms. Since we want to get in and out without notice, we’ll need to land nearby and sneak as close to the entrance where the records of the fallen are kept.”
“Do you think you can tolerate me being there with you?” She was being petty, but dammit, she was upset.
A fleeting look of regret moved over his face. “Look, Odessa—”
“No. I don’t want to hear it. The sooner we figure this out the sooner you can be done with me.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but Odessa marched outside. His heavy steps followed her. She did as he said, leading the creep toward a concealed door in the arching archive building that favored human Renaissance architecture—or vice versa, since the archives were ancient.
The eight-foot wooden panel door opened at her touch. It wouldn’t have budged for Bryant’s. That gave her a little satisfaction. He needed her in some way.
Once inside, she dropped her hand and stepped away. The path to the archives was empty, the space quiet. She stepped lightly so her sandals wouldn’t slap on the ground.
Earlier, Bryant’s footsteps had rattled the mansion, but he was nothing but stealth here. Arching ceilings were just tall enough an angel would have to fly to touch it, but the walls were narrow enough, they could never adequately spread their wings to do so.
Light filtered in from ceiling panels, natural resources used to spare angelic energy.
A lone door at the end of a long hallway beckoned her. They entered and Bryant softly clicked the door behind them.
“This is the hall with the history compiled by analysts,” she explained to Bryant about the large circular room lined with scrolls of various ages. “We toured here to see how recordings used to be kept. Some analysts are dedicated to the preservation of these scrolls, even converting them to electronic form.”
“How exciting,” Bryant said dryly.
“It would be fascinating.” Odessa sniffed. He might not think much of her position, but their people’s history intrigued her. Archiving would be a good career, but she enjoyed how her current assignment paired their history with modern events.
“I prefer to preserve our history by making sure we have a future.”
“And you say the elite are obnoxious,” Odessa mumbled. If he heard her, he made no comment.
She walked around to figure out where they should start looking for records of fallen angels. He followed her lead, as she wandered from hall to hall, hunting for where the scrolls or cartridges of exiled Numen were kept. Before they entered a new section of the archives, Bryant went first. She assumed he was making sure they were alone and that no others had decided to come down for a peek into history.
“Shouldn’t we have told Dionna where we are?” Odessa asked after the first time Bryant had rushed to inspect a room before she entered.
“It’s not like I had time before you hauled us out of the mansion.”
Yeah, well, okay. He had a point.
“Besides,” he continued, “Director Richter was getting pressured from the enforcers to turn over your protection detail to them.”
“Why?”
“Their story is because it’s their jurisdiction. Our feeling is it’s because whoever is behind your attack wants to be able to get in close enough to kill you. It’d be easier with their own people in charge of your protection.”
Her hand touched where her heart wanted to thump out of her chest. There was no reason to worry. They had to get through Bryant.
She willed herself to calm and strolled around the current archival room they were in. Almost a narrow tunnel, it held the archives of messaging between Numen and Heaven. A long table piled high with forgotten scrolls took up the surface. The archives weren’t a high-traffic spot so the caretakers only arrived occasionally to tidy up.
“So then what?” She didn’t like the feeling of dread over the thought that Bryant and his team wouldn’t be around for her. She didn’t think she took them for granted, but getting to the bottom of the mystery would be more difficult if they had to sidestep around enforcers all day.
“I interviewed several enforcers last night. You should meet them eventually, give your stamp of approval. Until we know how far the corruption goes, I’m okay with none of them knowing we’re gone yet. Dionna will take care of things and cover for us, if need be. She’ll be pissed when she finds out I didn’t tell her.”
Odessa wasn’t going to ask the questions that had been nagging her all morning, but it wasn’t unreasonable to want an answer as to why he brushed off what they’d done together. “Why didn’t you come back last night?”
Bryant sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. His expression was resigned. “I did come back, but you were asleep. And that was for the best. What we did was a mistake.”
He had come back? Mistake? “What do you mean?”
He shrugged and looked away. “You’re young, you’re in danger. I’m helping you. I don’t want you to feel beholden to me. I’ll help you, Odessa. That won’t change whether you sleep with me or not.”
“Don’t give me that you’re trying to do the right thing bullshit.”
His brows popped. “It’s not bullshit. You need to be able to make the decision of being mated with a clear head. You deserve the opportunity to mate with the right angel.”
The simmering anger Odessa had harbored toward Bryant all morning peaked. “Quit with the young excuse. I grew up way before my time. After the attack, my mother didn’t care enough about her daughters to face life and stay strong for us. She chose to walk into the fire instead. Just left a note. ‘Sorry,’ it said.” She flung her hands out. “Sorry? My father sent me and Filly off to boarding school. Pretended as if we didn’t exist, using the guise that he was protecting us by keeping his distance. My sister’s a mess and I have no idea what’s going on with her life. The last fourteen years hasn’t been a fairy tale.”
“Exactly.” He leaned in, his body language earnest. “You deserve to live a happy life. You can’t do that if you’re tied to me only because of what’s going on.”
“I’ve been alone, begging for any scrap of affection anyone would give me, while fearing too much attention would only bring me harm. Yes, my decision may have originated in fear of being alone. But when I walked into your sync gala, I was committed to you. My decision was made. You turned me away. Then again after my father’s visit, and again last night. That’s three times now.” Her body shook holding back the rage. He was spurning her because he thought it was in her best interest? “My mind’s made up. It’s you who’s tiptoeing around, using any excuse you can to break our sync. Don’t put it on me.”
Sparks glinted in his gaze. He crowded close, his size more welcome than intimidating. “I’m thinking only of you. I want what’s best for you.”
Odessa leaned into him, getting up in his face. “I say again, bullshit. You don’t want me—that’s fine. But be a man and cut it off. We don’t need the sync to keep going on this investigation.” A new thought dawned on her. “Unless you only want us synced so I can heal you.”
“Of course not!” he shouted. “Have you looked at yourself? You’re bloody gorgeous. You don’t need to be synced with a wreck like me. I work. That’s it. I don’t play house.”
“Did I ask you to quit working?” she yelled back at him. “Do you think I’m going to sit at home and wait only for your return? Sorry, I’ve done that with Crestin and I didn’t enjoy it. All it got me was an asshole that was willing to sleep with my sister and, apparently, anyone else. Have I seemed repulsed by your appearance?” Her wings flared wider as she spoke. “I don’t know if you realize this, but you’re hot, scars and all. And unlike whatever partners you’ve been with since your injuries, I’m interested in you because you’re an honorable pain in the ass that dedicates his life to those he cares for and isn’t ashamed about it. Even if you act like a dick sometimes.”
Tension radiated off Bryant. Her words unsettled him. They disrupted her inner peace, too. All of her anger at Bryant, her frustration over the situation she found herself in, swirled inside, seeking an exit.
“You still don’t get it, Odessa,” he growled low, his accent thick. The timbre shot straight to her center. “I keep telling you that once we do this, there’s no going back. No chance of annulment. You are mine, and you will regret it.”
She threw her hands up. “Then make sure I don’t regret it. Is it that hard to think you could make someone happy just by being yourself?”
“I can make you happy.” He moved forward, backing her up against the wall, her wings flattened against the shelves of scrolls. “I can make you scream with pleasure. I can make you shout with ecstasy. Is that going to be enough when we’re not in bed? What are you going to do when you find out the only things I’m good at is being a warrior and making you come?”
His words…were turning her on. Savagely. He was trying to scare her, trying to scare himself. She knew what he was doing, even through her lust-induced haze.
He pressed against her, his wings held up so high, they blocked the natural light fr
om the skylight. The only things he was good at? Two could play that game. “What are you going to do when you find out my hair gets all over the bathroom? Or when I talk incessantly about comparing the patriarchal family structure in developed nations to modern Numen familial organization? Because as an analyst, I love that shit.”
He pushed harder against her, his arousal digging into her abdomen. “I could listen to you spout nonsense all day. Your voice makes me hard, and that brain of yours,” he rasped, “so bloody sexy.”
Her breath hitched. His gaze was on her lips. Was he going to kiss her? She wanted him to. Badly. They hadn’t resolved anything—if possible, they only broached more issues. But she had wanted him since she’d first seen his picture. He frustrated her and enraged her. He also made her feel safe, worthwhile, and cherished. She had few people in her life that made her feel that way.
She didn’t have to wait long. He captured her lips. She clutched his shoulder holsters as he greedily plundered her mouth. Every swipe of his tongue, she latched on, teeth bumping, lips crushing.
When he lifted the hem of her dress, she wedged her hands in between them to yank at the clasp of his pants and tug down his zipper.
A deep groan vibrated through his chest into hers. Her dress went higher, and his zipper went lower. She managed to pull out his thick length, relishing the steely heat of him in her palm before he lifted her up and wedged himself between her legs.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and adjusted herself until the broad tip of him prodded her entrance. She was slick and ready for him, and after their last two times together, she didn’t want to chance any delays.
He gazed into her eyes, waiting for her to give a signal for him to stop. She rocked her hips, encouraging him. He eased her down his long length. Yes. She filled deliciously with his width, stretching to accommodate his size.
Bryant leaned his forehead down on hers, rocking gently, letting her get used to him. He grabbed her around the hips, and she wrapped her legs around him. He dropped his head farther, to nibble along her neck as his thrusts increased in speed and urgency.
Angel Fire: Angel Fire, Book 1 Page 18