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Torn Between Two Worlds (Guardians Series Book 1)

Page 5

by Lexi Ostrow


  “Ciara, I need you to breathe and be calm. I am sorry I do not have the answers to the questions swirling through your head. Nor do I have the answers that you need to have. All I can tell you is we need you in our worlds and you need us to protect you so it’s an amicable relationship that is going to happen despite your frustration.”

  Her mouth gaped open at him and he waved a hand, as if to be dismissing what she was about to say before she even managed to open her mouth and say it. “Stryder has been picked. You both picked each other actually. You had a platonic hold over Alcott, I can assure you that won’t be the case now and that it will be the sexual hold that will help him save you when you need him most.”

  She just looked at him, blinking stupidly and the man up and disappeared. “Well that was pleasant of him,” she muttered.

  “No shit. And you haven’t heard him chuckle. They’re his signature moves,” came a reply from across the room.

  She hadn’t even realized that while the other man had been talking she’d walked away from Stryder. Turning to tell him to get out she inhaled sharply and began to back away.

  * * *

  Stryder wasn’t sure what was causing her to be distressed this time, but he was going to have a talk with her about controlling her emotions better. That was a huge rule in war. It was tops in his opinion. He took a step toward her to only have her raise her hand and whisper to him.

  “Just don’t move. Just stand there.”

  In the center of the room the air seemed to be distorting, growing fuzzy and almost seeming to shimmer.

  “No, no, no,” she whispered as she backed up quicker now, until her back pressed into the wall opposite him. She smacked into the wall as she tried to keep backing up, but had no room to, still chanting the word “no” over and over.

  He fixed his eyes to the center of the room where her gaze never strayed. The distortion was so intense now he could barely see the other side of the room through it. Things literally began to appear out of the pocket of air in her room. They had to have come from his brother’s book. The guy had warned him that the bad guys who were able to get through, could only do so in the span of time a book was being read. For that, Stryder was actually thankful. He knew how to fight them, he knew how to beat them. They were nothing more than lesser demons trying to gain more power, easy for a Horsemen's second.

  In fact, they were cut from the same genetic cloth as him. Just smaller. Their eyes still glowed red, they still had tiny teeth that functioned a bit like fangs. There were only three of them. He was pissed. These low life demons should not be here. Despite the fact that he was told the exact opposite, it didn't make sense that demons would attack when there were hardly any around anymore in his books, except certain earthbound points, like the bar. But this was what he was here for, to protect.

  Watching the fear take hold in her eyes, the erection he’d had immediately deflated. The blue of her eyes had turned so dark that had they not been widened in fear, they would have been black, which he thought was so hot, because they’d looked like his. He heard her actually whimper from across the room. His body responded with pure, unfiltered rage. Fangs, barely longer than the other demons grew in his mouth. His nails grew long and curved, claws now. The horns that only horsemen and his brothers could generate grew. His eyes blacked out. He was on them. It was child’s play for War. And between his training and the link to the Horseman it was a bad day to be these guys.

  Turning on the one closest to him, he swung his arm wide, claws seamlessly slicing through the demon’s abdomen. Another swipe severed its head from its body. The second ran at him and he readied himself to grab the idiot and tear his throat out. He felt searing pain lance through his back as the third slashed him with its own claws. Kicking backwards he knocked it back and he hoped not straight at Ciara. He lunged forward and thrust his claws into the chest of the demon in front of him. Yanking them out he heard the demon’s cry of pain and let it crumple to the floor to bleed out and suffer from the poison in his claws.

  Ciara screamed and he turned to deal with the one he had launched backwards and saw the damned thing running toward him. Stryder reached out to grab him, but the fucker raced past him and back into the shimmering doorway, a piece of Ciara’s shirt in his hands. A piece that would allow the others he was working with, or just himself if he now acted alone with two of his brethren dead, to track her movements. Stryder tried to rush forward to jump in, but the damn thing popped to normal air far faster than it had distorted.

  Then the smell of poison, other than his own, reached his nose. "The Initiative." His snarl was low. He knew didn't need to explain it to her, since she was reading after all. The human group bent on the destruction of all things demon, had gotten to this group first. Were they trying to stop the demons or come across on their own and live demon free? He knew it had to be the latter, but he couldn't fucking be bothered with that now, since the threat was gone.

  Turning with a snarl he tried to let go of his anger, and the small trace of fear, so that his face would turn back and not frighten her more. He was a bit shocked to see her frightened at the attack if she’d had her powers for so many years. “Ciara, are you ok?”

  She was staring at the air pocket, not in horror, but disgust. “He never let me see them. Alcott, he always caught them as they came in. I never saw. I never saw him fight anything or anything that was coming after me before. Just that damn fucking distortion.”

  When she turned to him, her eyes didn’t change to fear or hate. They actually seemed to soften a little. “Thank you.” It was so quiet it was almost inaudible and he wondered briefly if he read her lips or even her mind. But he hadn’t, she’d thanked him.

  She bit her lower lip, just like she had when he’d been touching himself. That was all it took. Her gratitude and sucking on her lower lip. His cock jerked to life, hard, and jammed into the zipper of his jeans. He crossed the space between them in two steps and lifted her in his arms, pressing her into his body like before. Except this time, her legs wrapped around him, pulling him into her even more.

  Lifting her head to look into her eyes, he pressed his mouth to hers a heartbeat later, crushed his lips into her and thrusted his hips.

  * * *

  She was in shock. She could feel the long, hard erection that Stryder was pushing into her body, rubbing her clothes against her core, as he pushed her mouth open with his tongue. His tongue laved at hers, tangling with hers. Her brain couldn’t seem to fire off any responses that didn’t involve what was happening between them. She was kissing him back, melting into him, meeting his tongue stroke for stroke and sucking it into her mouth. Shocks were streaking through her body with the stroke of his tongue and she realized she was grinding her body into his. She was wet and she was pushing up against and onto his erection as small moans formed in her throat.

  Where his fingers ran over her skin, she would have sworn electricity was forming. She bet if she’d opened her eyes she would see little bolts lifting off her skin before he was touching her somewhere else. His hands were moving gently over her, so gentle for a being who really ought to only know war and violence.

  Her body jerked as his fingers brushed over her inner thigh. She felt him pushing her sweats down and she unhappily unwound her legs from his waist. They’d only been gone a second when he grabbed them and wrapped them around him again, his cock now only separated by the silk of her underwear. He traced a finger over the crotch of them and she jolted, slamming her down onto his erection, so big she didn’t know how he was still in his pants.

  “Gods, sweetheart, you’re wet for me.” He rubbed his finger over the fabric in circles as he ran his tongue down her neck. “So wet I could slip right into you.”

  She had no response except to take his hand and slide it under the edge of her panties and grab his head to kiss him.

  His fingers stroked across her clit and she bit his lip and jerked onto his hand. She heard him growl when she took one arm off his n
eck and unzipped his pants, his erection popped out and fell into her hand. He was so big. She could barely wrap her hand around him to stroke him. But as she did he slipped a finger inside her folds and when she cried out she saw him smile.

  “That’s is, Ci. Make that sound for me while you touch me, while I touch you.”

  His finger worked in and out of her, faster than before and she couldn’t stop herself from riding it. From pushing down on it as he added a second and she stroked him harder.

  His thumb found her clit and rubbed her too. Her body was going to burst. She was already starting to see colors and her hand released his cock. All she could do was slam her body onto his hand as her head fell backwards. She could feel her walls start to pulse, making his fingers hit them harder, deeper.

  Her scream broke across the room. This time when she opened her eyes she knew he was smiling, despite her not having been able to continue stroking him to bring him to climax. Looking into his eyes her brain snapped her back into reality.

  She immediately dropped her legs from around his waist and pushed off his chest. Ignoring the sensation as his cock dragged across her. When she had broken the contact her legs buckled underneath her and she swayed. He caught her as she started to cry. She pushed away and his hands dropped her. She crashed into the floor and opened her eyes to stare up at him. She wanted to yell at him. To accuse him for to this, blame him and yell at him to get out. But she couldn’t.

  She knew there wasn't anything really wrong with what she had done. Except casual sexual encounters weren't her thing. She'd only ever been with Derrick and the fact that she'd allowed that just now with anyone she'd just met, made her skin crawl and her stomach swirl with bile. Her body heated up just thinking about what had just happened. She cried from anger and fear at her body's continual betrayal. “No,” was all she said before Stryder was popped back to the bar.

  Chapter 7

  Early on in the game he'd learned Leather Jacket, as he'd grown to calling the man, visiting meant shit went wrong. He'd wanted to believe this guy wasn't a demon. In fact, he'd helped ward their demon cells, making them stronger. But there was something just not right about him. Who came and helped a twisted organization into infiltrating another world?

  “If there even is another fucking world.”

  They'd sent a trial envoy, three demons under angelic control to this Ciara Miller's world. No one believed him, the word crazy had circulated more than once, but being who he was, his orders were followed.

  A dagger slamming down between his elbows on the desk made him twitch. “Speak of the devil.” Leather Jacket's face twisted into a sinister grin and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “I'm sure you've frozen everyone again in an attempt to make me seem crazy- so what the fuck do you want? I listened. I sent them to get her.”

  The man chuckled and it sent shivers over Jonathan's body, this guy was not an angel, but he wouldn't contemplate that he'd received help from the demons.

  “Yes I'm well aware, Johnny.”

  He cringed, the fucker had been calling him that every time because he knew it grated on his nerves.

  “I've come to give you a warning. They failed. And there's going to be a demon entering the picture in five...four...”

  A crash and howl had his head pivoting to the side. “Your fucking count’s off ass wipe.” Grabbing his gun off the desk he released the safety and barreled toward the door. “If you're on my fucking side unfreeze them so they can protect themselves.” Leather Jacket shrugged and made no attempt to move. “NOW.” He didn't wait, but threw the door open.

  Sure enough one of the demon's they'd sent through that door thing was crashing through the hall holding onto a piece of fabric for God knew what reason. Blood pools splattered the floor of the men and women who couldn't defend themselves, clearly the demon was under angelic control now, the angels had a funny way of sensing and incapacitating demons in the headquarters. Rage boiled and he was about to turn around and attack the man in his office when his soldiers were moving again. Their screams mixed with the screams from the demon and he fired off three shots, hitting the demon in the legs. He wanted to know what the fuck happened over there so he needed him alive. “DO NOT SHOOT TO KILL,” his voice boomed in the hall over the bullets and screams and howls. His men looked at him and for a moment he saw disgust and betrayal in their eyes, but they took out knives and daggers instead.

  Just as he made his way to the demon to hit it with a modified taser, the room froze around and Leather Jacket poofed in front of him. “You do realize that had you asked, rather than screaming like a jackass, I could've just frozen him?” He arched an eye brow and Jonathan felt his blood boil.

  Without thinking, he pointed the gun, set to taze, at the man and fired. But it was his scream in the hall when the bolt of electricity smacked into his thigh, sending him into unconsciousness.

  ***

  When he woke, his head was throbbing and he was laying on concrete. The cold seeped into his skin and he groaned as he sat up. He was in the dungeons and based on the infuriating chuckle behind him, he wasn't alone. Pushing off his hands, he stood and his legs gave in. “Fucking taser.”

  “I did you a favor. I could've killed you. Now be a good little Initiative member and start torturing the demon for information already. Before you act like you don't do it, save it. I know the Initiative isn't as angelic as it pretends. It's a war and all I care about is you winning and taking down the demon protecting Ciara Miller. It grabbed something of hers, good little boy that it was. Which means you can track her with his help.”

  Jonathan raised a brow at Leather Jacket, and the man snorted.

  “Why am I not shocked you don't know that. Idiot human.”

  His ears perked at that news. He should've known this book starred a fucking demon. Why would his own book be about him and not his enemies? Grunting as he stood, he took the knife from Leather Jacket's outstretched hand. But turned to him first. “How did you know a demon was going to come back, and alone?” His voice had none of its normal bravado. With each meeting he knew he was the weakling and was less and less tempted to test the balance, unless he was pissed like earlier. “Men and women died in the hallway because we weren't ready for the demon to come back through. But you knew it was coming and you could've stopped it. But you didn't. I'm only going to ask one last time. What. The. Fuck. Are. You?”

  One minute he was standing and the next he felt his back and head slam into a concrete wall. The demon hissed and giggled at his pain. Blood dripped into his eyes from a crack to his skull where he'd been thrown into the wall. He didn't have a chance to do a once over for further injury before an icy hand wrapped around his neck and picked him up from the floor. His back banged up the wall, sending sparks of pain through it from previously being thrown into it. His vision was blurring and he had trouble hearing, let alone comprehending the conversation he was having.

  “That is none of your business. You know what you need to know. A demon is charming Ciara Miller and should he succeed, he could lock you in this demon invested world forever. You'll never get to her slice of freedom if you don't figure out how to stop him.”

  The hand released from around his neck and he gasped, sucking in a deep breath of air. His body trying to replenish the previously cut off supply. Leather Jacket didn't say more. But in his eyes, Jonathan saw his wife's murder. This guy was definitely the devil and it was far too late to get out of bed with him.

  Limping over to the knife he dropped, he wiped a hand over his forehead to stop the trickle of blood into his eyes. Dragging his body over to the demon chained to the wall, he spit at the demon's face when the foul creature smirked at him.

  “Now if you're to do this properly I should heal you. But remember. I can undo it just as easily human.”

  Jonathan didn't miss the sneer in his voice. As quickly as the pain had come, it was gone. Just gone. With a nod he punched the demon in the face.

  “We're going
to play a game you piece of shit. Ya know, the one we played when you first joined us. Only this time I don't care if you live. Failure begets failure and we've tested on your breed enough to not need you around.”

  The giddiness faded from the demon's eye as he contemplated the threat.

  He slammed the knife deep into the gut and didn't flinch as the black blood like substance oozed out over his hand. He twisted the knife twice. “What happened?”

  The demon opened his mouth to talk and Jonathan removed the knife and sliced the creature’s wrist off. His howl of pain echoed off the cement walls and floor and he heard Leather Jacket's chuckle behind him. “So you know I'm not playing.”

  The demon's voice was raspy and laced with shallow breathing from the pain. “He over powered us. We are not meant to fight our betters and win.”

  The demon sounded exasperated, but he wasn't answering fully and Jonathan wanted answers. Walking to the table behind him he grabbed the steel mallet from the table and without missing a beat walked to the demon and cracked it across its knees. This time the howl of pain made his head ring.

  “Do not give me half answers, demon. I will leave you to die with no hope of life if you don't give all the details. You're running out of things for me to break and slice off. I'd hate to have to take your skin.” He hated the idea of killing a specimen, they caught so few and needed to study them to win their war. But all generals made sacrifices for war and killing one wouldn't be the worst.

  “War's apprentice.”

  The words were so low he almost missed them. “Fuck.” In his anger he slammed the mallet into the creatures stomach, causing the blood to ooze out quicker. Demons were one thing, they had a pecking order. But to be dealing with an apprentice? Third in the pecking order, falling just below those that trained under Lucifer, mere demons wouldn't be enough if a Horseman's second was around. They needed all forces on deck next time. And it needed to be them, not demons. Weaker or not, Earth was for humans and they would succeed. He wondered why Leather Jacket didn't share that bit.

 

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