by Lexi Ostrow
She groaned at his horrible use of slang. "Maybe while you're there, the Italians will be able to stop you of that annoying habit. It is a beautiful place. I can't wait to see it in person, but I am about to pass out and drool on my phone. Enjoy that dinner. Please don't be a stranger, Derrick. I mean it." And she did. He said as much and she disconnected from Face Time and dragged herself to the bed, not having any thoughts before passing out.
* * *
Stryder felt like an ass. She'd sent him away again and now they were coming up on three days since he'd seen her. He knew he should just use the shimmering door that had appeared in his Grecian home. But somehow he knew intruding wasn't going to win him any favors with her.
He'd been at war with himself over it the entire time. But the disgust in her voice and the look in her eyes after he'd made her scream in pleasure. It was enough to make him sick. Women didn't act like he was disgusting and they certainly didn't do it after a mutual orgasm, the first of many he had hoped to come. But his mate had. She'd been disgusted and more.
Wine and dine, as his last brother, Famine, would say. And wine and dine he would. He would make sure to keep himself in check and so long as nothing attacked them, he would be able to. He wasn't a walking cock after all, despite the way he felt sometimes.
So when the shimmering door grew opaque and revealed Ciara sleeping calmly in her bed, he took that as his invitation to return and take what was his.
Chapter 9
He was quiet when he stepped through his personal doorway to her world. But he wasn't distant. His instinct was to climb into bed beside her and hold her. But somehow that would only make things worse. So he stood beside the bed and watched her. Her sleep was a peaceful one and he wondered what had been occurring in her world the past three days.
He always wondered what it would look like to watch his mate sleep. Fasheem, his other brother and also known as Famine's Second, had found his mate centuries prior and compared his wife to a sleeping angel. After a life spent learning to fight and not much more it shocked him his brother even knew a term like that. But he did know he wanted it for himself too.
A smile curved on his lips- Ciara didn't look like an angel. In fact she looked frazzled with her hair splayed all over the pillow and her mouth open. What was peaceful about her was her breathing rhythm. Calm and steady.
His hand reached out and brushed some hair off her cheek and she moaned softly. The sound went straight to his dick and he had to take a step back and breathe deeply himself to not wake her and claim her. She rolled over as he backed away and he missed being able to see her face.
Do I stand here like some freak? Or do I gently and politely wake her? Will either make her happy to see me?
Standing seemed the most logical to him. Well waiting. He walked to the foot of the bed and sat down on the desk chair to wait it out. His eyes wandered over to the floor and saw her bra looped over the chair leg and he laughed. So she was a little messy, just like him. Catching the time on the cable box he realized he would be there for awhile, it was barely five a.m. Leaning back in the chair, he closed his eyes to think.
He'd been searching for his mate for so damned long. Since before Fasheem had found his. He'd been desperate, hoping to have someone to share his life with would temper down his war instincts and maybe the connection with the Horseman. He could barely remember how it started now. Much of his child hood was a wash, removed by choice from his memories because the way his family was treated was enough to piss anyone off, let alone the burden placed on them. Four brothers didn't deserve the weight of the fucking heavens and hell. They were Lucifer's to control, but he'd always wondered if the angels were holding back some of their own secrets in regards to the Horsemen. They'd long ago learned the Apocalypse was deemed needed at some point by both factions, but the angels wanted a fair fight to remove the humans who needed it. The demons just wanted death.
There were times when he wasn't surprised the Initiative wanted demons removed from the Earth. They tended to have a bad rap since Lucifer fell. Before that? They were first class citizens. There had been no anger filled, fallen angel to turn them to their now wicked ways. In fact the peace might have been enough to drive a sane person crazy. He wasn't used to not having conflict anymore and since being titled a horseman of war, it seemed stupid to think he would want peace. But he did. His mother had peace when she'd had him, till she learned what she'd birthed of course. He wanted it for his kids, his and Ciara's. He shrugged at his thoughts, being a demon wasn't all he was, well maybe it was, since couldn't claim human and was only part angel, but he shouldn't be shocked he could want something opposite his core nature.
A quite mewl drew him from his thoughts, and he looked to the bed. Ciara was waking now, her tiny body slowly stretching in the bed. He didn't want her to think he was stalking her, though he supposed that's exactly what he had been doing as he had watched her through her doorway the past few days.
He cleared his throat and said her name quietly. "Ciara?"
She opened her eyes slowly and the sleepy smile faded from her face. But she didn't jump up and shout at him, or send him away. She buried her head in her pillow, let out an incomprehensible sound he assumed was a scream and then pulled the pillow off.
"I knew you'd be back. I couldn't not read forever anyway." She sighed and looked so defeated he almost considered apologizing and leaving her alone. "We have to do this don't we? This drawn out conversation about everything?"
He didn't feel the need to say anything, so he gave her a slow nod. She nodded back and let her legs dangle over the bed before stretching them to the floor and walking to the bathroom. The door closed and he raised a brow. "Well how the fuck are we supposed to get this behind us if she's just going to close another damned door in my face?" He snorted and dropped his body down onto the bed, not caring if she didn't like it. It smelled like her and he grabbed the pillow, inhaling her scent and dropped it when he realized what he had just done. It was pathetic, mate or not.
The sound of the shower came on in the bathroom and he flinched. She was going to be in there, mere steps away, naked. Touching herself to some extent. His groan was pained and his head snapped down to see his good old buddy pushing against his jeans.
"Shit." His hand brushed against his swelling cock and he threw his head back, fangs slightly extending and slicing his lip. With a growl he pulled his hand away from his lap, snagged her pillow and put it on top of his lap while trying to block out the scent of her on it.
Seconds ticked into minutes as he sat waiting, before the shower turned off and the door opened a few minutes after that. She eyed him from the bathroom, snorted herself and sat down on the desk chair. Wearing just a damned towel. He jumped up and grabbed the grey sweater that was on the floor and tossed it at her.
"The whole point is to apologize for me touching you without asking, something I never do might I add. Apologize, I mean. So put something on before I do it again. Because it was bad enough to sit here while you fucking showered."
She grinned at him and his jaw opened. "I apologize." She slipped the sweater on over the towel and let the towel slide to cover her waist only. "For everything. I don't like you here. I don't want you to touch me again, unless it’s to pull me from danger got it?"
"Sorry, sweetheart, going to be an issue there. Sexual ties. Remember that little part?" His voice was harsh and she gasped and he ran his hand through his hair. "Dammit I'm not going to pretend to be something I'm not. You're reading my series or whatever the fuck you would call what I'm from." He snarled again, anger reignited from thinking about how he was literally not a living being to anyone but her. "What I'm trying to do is talk to you about this. You can't keep shoving me back and if you're dealing with all the evil things as you read novels then you're dealing with mine. And that means demons and The Initiative. Two things. Not One. I follow orders and do what I'm told. So that means protecting you, even if you don't want it. So I'd like to lay some ground rul
es, if that's ok with you, sweetheart." He sneered the term of endearment this time and mentally kicked himself for getting riled up. Wining and dining this was not.
* * *
His rant made sense. Sure he was ranting at her like some barbarian, but wasn't he kind of that? Sure the concept was he was more than a demon, more than a solider cursed to do the bidding of heaven and hell to stop the apocalypse from coming too soon, but he was still a man bred for war. She found herself watching him as he spoke, staring at the lines on his face, at the intensity radiating out of his eyes at her and she sure as heck hadn't ignored the huge bulge in his pants when he moved the pillow to throw the sweatshirt at her.
When he finished talking at her she narrowed her eyes, at herself for how she was undressing him with her eyes and jumping into bed with him in her mind. This couldn't keep happening. Would it be happening if she was with Derrick? She had a feeling the answer was yes. She didn't feel in control of her emotions toward him, whether she wanted to admit them or not.
"I would love to say thank you for the apology, but it would appear you are readily slipping into the barbarian that the author of your novel would have me believe you and your brothers are not."
He looked at her, opened his mouth and closed it.
"Clearly whoever this epic man is that explains the rules to you all is wrong. I was with Alcott for eleven years with no more than a teen’s crush on the man. Sex does not have to be a part of the equation. Alcott never minded, so if you're going to, perhaps I can find another Guardian, a female warrior must exist that I can connect with."
He had walked over to her and her eyes had latched onto the bulge behind his zipper, and it had nothing to do with the fact that it was eye level with her.
"Sweetheart, in case you missed it, Alcott is gone. Whatever you two were doing wasn't right. Newsflash." He must have realized where she was looking because he chuckled, a low and sensual sound that had the hair on her arms rising as well as her temperature. "For being so disgusted and annoyed with me, you have yielded to me quite sensually and if the look of hunger in your eyes is any indication you're not so immune." His hand went to his zipper. "I had every intention of doing the opposite of this, but if you're going to look at me like that, you better finish the job."
She swallowed at his words and somehow managed to shake her head no. She reached out and placed her hand over his."I'm a female, not dead. You're the playboy the book made you out to be, I can't help it. But I am not going there." She rose and grabbed a photo of her and Derrick off the nightstand. "I've done choosing the wrong man before with him, he was a wonderful guy, but not the right one for me. So excuse me if I don't immediately bow down to what my hormones want.”
His smirk made her want to punch him in the face.
"If that is what you wish to think, I will leave you to your delusions for now. But we do need to discuss this and honestly woman, if I have to say it again, you're going to dislike me more than you already do."
Her laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. Full blown hysteria that made absolutely no sense. A week had passed and her entire life had flip flopped upside down and here she was clutching her stomach and dying of laughter. She couldn't open her mouth long enough to apologize or her eyes long enough to see through the tears.
"I come from a family of nitwits and I fail to see the humor in the threat offered to you by a horsemen's second."
She was trying to wipe the tears from her eyes and catch her breath at the same time. Unsuccessful attempts occurred for about three more minutes until she was finally calm. “Sorry I didn't mean to be rude. Not that time at least." She took a deep breath again to calm herself further. "My life has been torn apart and sewn back together with pieces missing in the past week." She extended her hand and cursed as the towel fell from her hips. She quickly tugged the sweater down and moved to sit on the bed tucking her legs under her and knowing it was retarded looking. She flushed when she looked up and saw the laughter in his eyes. "As I was saying, everything is a jumble right now. I swear I'm not normally Queen Bitch of the Universe and I won't continue to be to you. But you aren't Alcott and I didn't want a different Guardian." She sounded whiney and she cringed a little.
He raised a brow and laughed himself. "No, perhaps you are just Queen Bitch, and only of the universe some of the times." He grinned at her and she felt a little tug at her heart. Perhaps she could like him, if she got to know him, like with Alcott.
"That was a fair shot. I'd like to start over. To try this fresh, tomorrow night. I won't read until then, so there's no need for you to hang around. I would in fact love it if you left until then.” She looked directly at him to see how he felt. No emotion played across his face and she wondered if that was a blessing or a curse.
"I was going to suggest a nice night out. But I suppose you would feel strange sitting in a restaurant alone would you not?”
She nodded, not thrilled with the idea.
"All the same, I would like to be in a civil situation with you. To learn one another. Consider it war games, to learn each other and plan how to deal. Would a picnic on the grassy area of your complex be suitable? Or perhaps you would like to come to my world, you would love my house." He let the offer hang there, polite yet strained.
No way was she giving him the home field advantage.
"My vote is for the grassy area here. Don't take this the wrong way. I don't think I'm ready to see a whole new world and meet everyone. Not until I know I can stand you." She offered him a smile to weaken the blow of her decision. She could somehow sense how important her liking him was to him, and oddly enough, she did like him. Maybe that was just how the Guardian bond went. Or maybe she was missing Derrick or maybe, just maybe he was the fantasy she always wanted, sitting on her desk chair offering her his world. She shook her head scattering the foolish thoughts.
"Something the matter?" He was looking curiously at her and he must have been talking.
"No I'm just a mess up here." She tapped her head. “I have a seminar today. I write, but not as well as I need to and seminars are how I plan to get better. I need to get ready and then I have work." She had been blowing off her job at the bookstore since Derrick left. Not because she was sad really, but because she didn't want to find more books to read as she rang customers up. But her savings were going to dwindle trying to pay for this place all alone and she knew she needed a second job.
"Alright then. I will be back here tomorrow evening. Should you need me prior, I take it you can open these portals whenever you wish?" He gestured to the shimmering doorway in the middle of the room.
"Um actually, no. That just started. Before, I presume Alcott did it just as the bad things from the books do. I've never controlled it personally until now, and I've never needed them to travel before either so maybe they're something to do with you?" He looked at the doorway and walked up to it. He pulled a dagger from his belt and sliced through the portal, muttering something.
"We will have to figure it out then. We need to know what's changed if we are to keep you safe. Thank you for this opportunity. " He walked back to her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and her heart thumped in response before he turned and walked through the doorway.
“He's dangerous, Ci.” But her outspoken warning didn't stop the small smile as she touched where he had kissed her.
***
Ciara blew out a breath and groped around the bed for her phone the next morning. Seeing the ‘good morning, beautiful’ text from Derrick should have made her smile. Instead it annoyed her. What did he think he was doing still doing things like that?
She typed out a quick good afternoon to him to be respectful of his time zone and went to get dressed. She had a little less than thirty six hours to learn how to turn off her feelings toward Stryder or stop lying to herself and commit to them.
Does what’s occurring make sense? Stryder was still just a fantasy at this stage of her gift. But what she was experiencing felt so much stronger
than anything she'd ever felt with Derrick, or any of her few boyfriends before him. It terrified her because she wanted him, and she suspected it was for more than just a onetime thing.
Chapter 10
When he stepped through that shimmering doorway this time he had a grin on his face. She wasn't going to scream obscenities at him this time or throw him back on his ass. Well she may do that, but he had a feeling he was safe from her wrath and ire. Talk about an improvement from the last few times he had shown up. Thirty-six hours waiting in his world had been hell. Fuck the raging erection he got just thinking about her, he was growing tired of his brothers. One wrong comment from Jameson and he'd punched his brother so hard he wasn't so sure the teeth he'd knocked out were going to grow back. They were riding him about her. Apparently he wasn't focusing and with their namesakes locked in stasis until the apocalypse he was supposed to be out training in every way. Training with his brothers to tamper down his demon so when it happened they could fight on their chosen side- the angels. It was their little secret- his brothers and his, and plotting out shit to do with Ciara had severely gotten in his head. He needed to learn to control his demonic nature and not scare her.
She was waiting for him. Her gossamer blue dress hugged her body, outlining every curve and he got to see, absence of a bra. The powder blue cardigan she put on to combat the California winter didn't look like it helped much because he could see her pebbled nipples. He clenched his jaw and forced his cock to stand down. Ciara kept managing to take his breath away. He'd seen her in so many stages of dress, and all suited her. A low growl formed thinking about seeing her in a state of undress and she turned to look at him, raising a brow.