Bound Guardian Angel

by Donya Lynne

  “You? Kidding? Have I entered an alternate dimension?”

  She sighed. “Is it so hard to believe I might not be the total bitch you think I am? Is it that hard to fathom I might actually be a nice person?”

  He regarded her for a second. “I suppose it’s possible. You are good with the kids. Maybe it’s just your adult skills that lack.”

  “Or maybe I just don’t like people who break the law?” Why, oh why, was she ruining a good thing? Bringing up what had brought them together in the first place was a surefire way to destroy the peace between them.

  “And maybe I just don’t like intrusive witches who can’t keep their minds to themselves.”

  And there it went. The peace. Right out the door.

  “And maybe I wouldn’t have to be intrusive if more people didn’t screw around with evidence.”

  “I only screwed with evidence because I was ordered to.” Trace’s face hardened.

  Her blood began to boil. “You should have refused to follow those orders.”

  “And if I had, my pal would have been put to death to leave his pregnant mate inside a living hell.”

  Cordray huffed. “You don’t know that.”

  “And you don’t know that he wouldn’t have been killed.”

  “You still shouldn’t have broken the law.”

  Trace scowled at her. “I did, and I’d do it again to save an innocent male’s life. It’s called loyalty. It’s called compassion. Maybe you should try it.”

  “You’re a loose cannon.”

  “Only when provoked.”

  Cordray worked hard not to raise her voice, aware of the sleeping toddler in her arms. “Your actions could have started another war. They still could.”

  “How do you figure, sweetheart?”

  They were back to sweetheart, were they?

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “Fine, whatever. How do you figure my actions could start another war, Cordray?”

  She leaned toward him. “As an enforcer, you have rules to follow, Traceon. If you don’t follow those rules and run off half-cocked, or if you follow the misguided orders of your commander without thinking of the consequences and end up fu—” She glanced down at Aiden. “I mean, messing with the wrong people, or even killing them with that out-of-control hand of yours, you could set off a chain reaction that could bring the races into a head-to-head confrontation.”

  “I don’t see it that way.”

  “Of course not. You’re too busy being a hotheaded ass.”

  “Hey, I could have killed you in Bain’s dungeon, swee—Cordray. I could have easily snapped your neck, and we wouldn’t even be having this discussion right now. But I didn’t. I let you live when I was already compromised. Is that really how a hotheaded ass behaves?”

  Actually, no it wasn’t. The way he’d been in Bain’s dungeon, holding her by the neck through the bars, his irises tinged yellow, she had seen inside his mind and known how close she’d come to death. But he’d held back. Something had reined him in and he’d let her live.

  “Why didn’t you just kill me, Trace? What stopped you?”

  He obstinately sank back into the chair. His frown deepened as his jaw set in such a way that he looked like he refused to say another word.

  “Tell me,” she said, verbally pushing him. “Why didn’t you kill me that day?”

  His pale eyes flinched, and a quiet growl broke through his chest. “Because . . .”

  “Because why?” Cordray glared at him.

  For several seconds, silence stretched between them, and she began to think he wouldn’t break.

  “You might as well tell me or I’ll just go in and see your thoughts for myself. You know I can.”

  That pissed him off even more, but he didn’t respond to the threat. Just looked away as if he knew he was backed into a corner and hated how it felt.

  He remained silent for several more seconds. Finally, he sneered and said, “Something told me killing you would be a mistake. That I would regret it if I did. Now, I’m kind of regretting that I didn’t.” He frowned and glanced away. A moment later, he exhaled a frustrated breath as his shoulders fell. “That’s not true. I’m glad I didn’t kill you that day, but I wish I could understand what made me stop.”

  Cordray studied him as he turned his attention back to Null, the wind suddenly gone from his sails.

  Rigid stillness settled over them again. Peace wasn’t re-emerging. This feeling was too tense to be peace. But at least the aggression from a moment ago was gone.

  “Why do you hate me so much?” she said quietly. “Is it because I had the unfortunate task of revealing what you and the others did to Bain’s guards? I couldn’t not tell Bain what you’d done, Trace. I work for him. I can’t lie to him.” When he didn’t answer immediately, she said, “Or is there another reason?”

  His gaze lifted to hers. “Why do you hate me so much?” He threw her own words back at her. “Is it because I had the misfortune of following orders to protect my comrade? Tristan is my boss. I work for him. When he gives me an order, I can’t second-guess him. I have to trust that he knows the best course of action. It’s why your boss made Tristan my boss. Because he had faith in his ability to lead and make the hard choices so I wouldn’t have to.” He stared at her.

  Well, hell, she hadn’t thought of the situation in those terms before. Trace made a good point. To disobey Tristan would be like her disobeying Bain. Not that she didn’t disagree with her half-brother occasionally, but she didn’t usually disobey him outright.

  Her head began to ache. She didn’t want to talk about this, anymore. Besides, she needed to get going. She had to get ready for Grudge Match and still wanted to investigate the pedway afterward if she had time.

  “Look,” she said, sighing, “I don’t want to fight with you. Not tonight. Not when I’ve got to get ready for work.” She already had enough on her mind. She didn’t need to add yet another argument with Trace to the pile.

  “Fine.” He turned his attention to the movie.

  Cordray stroked Aiden’s hair. She didn’t hate Trace. As much as she fought with him, called him names, and insulted him, she never once felt any hatred toward him. In fact, the exact opposite was true. She was fascinated by him. In awe of him. Jealous, even. Jealous because he had friends like Micah and Sam. And jealous because they had him.

  She wanted what they all had with each other. What Micah and Sam got from Trace.

  Him.

  She wanted him.

  She saw that now.

  But damn it, it was so much easier to say she didn’t. So much easier to push him away than to risk her heart.

  As Frodo met the benevolent elves in the movie, she slid her gaze his direction.

  Null had turned over and now lay on his stomach, with his head on Trace’s shoulder. All the fresh air today had wiped the kids out.

  “You’re really good with him,” she whispered.

  Trace glanced down at the little boy then met her gaze.

  She sighed as her heart opened, which was exactly what she’d been fighting so hard to prevent.

  Too late.

  It was done.

  “Trace . . .” She briefly pursed her lips as she looked away. Being genuinely nice to him almost felt traitorous, but she was weary of fighting. Weary of pushing him away, when all she wanted was to pull him closer. Sighing again, she glanced back at him. When she spoke again, her voice was a gentle whisper. “Trace, I don’t hate you. It would be easier if I did, but I don’t.”

  God, hearing her own voice speak those words was both nauseating and exhilarating.

  Blame it on the night. On the children’s peaceful influence. On the full moon—was there a full moon tonight? The point was, whatever reason she had for warming to him and feeling the need to finally open up was not her own doing. Something else controlled her tonight. Something other than reality.

  And the reality was that she was insanely crazy about the gu
y.

  She was as hot on Trace as sizzle on bacon.

  And all she wanted was to take a bite.

  A long, luxurious, erotic bite.

  * * *

  Trace could only stare.

  Was Cordray coming on to him? Maybe their interlude earlier today had affected her more than she’d let on. It sure had with him, because he wouldn’t have minded a replay of that action. But why now? He’d given her the opportunity to go there with him again when they’d been cleaning up the kitchen, and she’d slammed the door on the idea in glorious fashion, using the F-word on him. Freak. That had shut down all prospects of a rematch. So, her behavior now confused him.

  Maybe he was reading more into the moment than there was. Her admission that she didn’t hate him could just be a result of the truce she’d called.

  He held her gaze for a long, drawn-out minute, just staring.

  Finally, he admitted, “I don’t hate you, either.”

  And, really, he didn’t. She scared him, which was why he let loose on her all the time. She reminded him of those kids he’d grown up with. The ones who’d bullied him. The ones he’d never stood up to. She reminded him of Beth, the pretty girl he’d had a crush on who’d never given him the time of day.

  Now, Cordray was the pretty girl he had a crush on. The beautiful female he couldn’t wrest his eyes from. Covered in tattoos, with a ruby stud pierced through the side of her nose, a gold lip ring, and rings of silver and platinum covering every finger, she was an image of Gothic beauty. A vampire princess in modern times, clad in black, with raven hair streaked with turquoise and electric blue. Never had he seen a more striking female. Not even Sam, whom he adored.

  Even so, she still reminded him of Beth. She teased and taunted him mercilessly, and all he wanted was to catch her eye.

  And while he’d never stood up for himself when he was a child, he’d conditioned himself in the past two hundred years to do exactly that and protect his heart.

  Even Micah had reminded him of his bullied childhood at first. But he’d forced himself to push through that barrier, because he’d known the rewards for befriending Micah would be worth the effort to overcome his resentment and feelings of isolation.

  He just hadn’t counted on Micah taking him in so wholly and unconditionally.

  And Sam. He couldn’t forget Sam in all this. She’d welcomed him in a way he’d never felt before. She and Micah loved him. And he loved them in return.

  Wasn’t it possible that if he dropped his guard a little, he’d find that he and Cordray could get along, too? That maybe a friendship with her would be just as rewarding as the one he’d discovered with Micah?

  Maybe even more, because the feelings coursing through his blood felt stronger than mere friendship. These were lustful, dark, and heady emotions that awakened his anatomy and made his chest vibrate with needful warmth.

  Her slender, black eyebrows drew in tight. “If neither of us hates the other, why do we fight so much?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t hate you. I’d like to say I do, but I don’t.”

  They had definitely entered an alternate dimension. This was the most pleasant conversation they’d ever had with one another. And it came directly on the heels of another of their infamous fights.

  She curled her legs under her as she shifted her hold on Aiden. “Tell me. If you could go back to that day at Io’s house—the day when you altered those guards’ memories—would you change anything? Would you do anything differently?”

  She wasn’t attacking him. She wasn’t goading him. She genuinely sounded curious, as if his answer was the key to some personal mystery she was trying to figure out about herself.

  He thought about it a few seconds. Shit had been fucked up in Io’s basement that day, but his actions had kept Io alive.

  He offered her a crooked, if not slightly guilty smile. “No.”

  “Why not?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, only curious.

  “Because I know I did the right thing. I know I saved Io’s life that day. I bought him and Miriam time to fully mate one another, and that’s ultimately what brought King Bain around.”

  Aiden shifted against Cordray, snuggling closer and pulling Cordray’s attention away for a moment. She wrapped her arms more tightly around the little girl and kissed the top of her head. Then she smiled sympathetically at Trace.

  “You know, I was just doing my job when I fixed the guards’ minds and discovered what you’d done. It wasn’t personal. I wasn’t intentionally trying to get you in trouble.”

  “I know.” He glanced down at the top of Null’s head. “And I was just doing my job. Keeping a friend safe.” And he considered everyone on his team a friend even if they didn’t feel the same way about him.

  “I know that now.” She rubbed her lips together and played her tongue against the metal ring through her bottom lip. “And I would have done the same thing in your shoes.”

  Trace narrowed his eyes on her. Then his lips turned up at the ends. “So the truth comes out. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Now, don’t go gettin’ cocky on me.” She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated exhale. “I’m just saying that, on a personal level, I agree with what you did. It was ballsy, bold, and unusually selfless. Not many would put themselves at such risk to help someone else who was obviously doing something that would get him into serious trouble.”

  “And yet, you’re telling me you would have.” He tilted his head, enjoying this rare moment of humility from his nemesis. “What does that say about you, C?” He grinned. “Sounds like I’m not the only rebel in the king’s employ.”

  Her mouth quirked on one side. “No, you’re not. I’m the first to admit that I’ve gone against Bain a time or two.”

  “Or a hundred.”

  She threw him a kiss-my-ass glare that held zero bite. “I’ve never directly disobeyed him, but I’ll admit, I do sometimes operate outside the law.”

  “Sometimes?” He grinned. “Why do I get the feeling that sometimes for you is more like the majority of the time.”

  “Because it takes one to know one, doesn’t it? Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

  “Are you saying that you and I are alike?”

  She lazily combed her fingers through Aiden’s blond ringlets then twirled one around her thumb. “Maybe we are.” She paused. “Who knows? Maybe that’s why we fight so much.”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about the implications of that statement. On one hand, it was reassuring to think he’d found someone who understood him, at least on some level, because they were so much alike. On the other, if he and Cordray were similar creatures, did that mean he was like those kids who teased him growing up, because, at least until now, that’s how he’d seen her.

  It was enough to give him pause.

  On the flipside, if they were so much alike, maybe she had endured the same kind of childhood he had. Or at least one that was similar.

  “Earlier, when you said you understood what it was like to be alone. What did you mean by that?”

  She looked away and bowed her head. “It’s nothing.”

  From the way she said it, whatever she held back was definitely something, not nothing.

  “The hell it is.”

  She tensed and cast a fearful, angry glance his way. “I’m not going to talk about it with you, so drop it.”

  He could almost see her walls shooting back up.

  So much for finding their happy place.

  He sighed. “And we were having such a pleasant conversation. I knew it couldn’t last.”

  She sat forward and scooped Aiden into her arms. “Look, it’s getting late, and I’ve got things to do, so—”

  “What things?”

  “Things. And they’re none of your business.” Yep, the walls were back in place.

  It almost felt comfortable getting back to where they fought with one another all the time. Almost. Because he’d kind of enjoyed the so
fter side of Cordray and their attempt at getting along for a change.

  “Fine. Whatever.” He was beat, anyway. Working all day had worn him out, and he hadn’t gotten as much sleep this afternoon as he’d wanted, thanks to their tryst.

  He hefted Null in his arms, stood, and followed Cordray through the dining room, the kitchen, out the back door, across the lawn, and into the dorm. The older kids were still up in the rec room, watching a movie over a bowl of popcorn. Brenna was reading a book. Mya was in the kitchen preparing mugs of hot cocoa.

  Upstairs, Cordray led him down the hall to a room at the end. Inside were two twin beds. She bent beside the far bed, pulled back the Barbie Doll cover and pink sheets, then set Aiden down.

  Aiden squirmed and protested softly then quieted when Cordray placed her Pooh Bear in her arms.

  Then Cordray turned toward him. In the dim light from the hall, her bright-blue eyes looked even more vivid, shining up at him as she reached for Null. The moment her hand touched his, electricity pulsed up his arm, sending warmth and a cascade of tingles down his spine to settle in his scrotum.

  Well, not exactly settle. More like swim around like newborn tadpoles, circling, bumping against the sides of his balls, and making like a party in his sac.

  She paused as if she’d felt the shockwave, too. Then she drew in a breath and shakily lifted Null out of his arms.

  “Can you pull back the sheets?” she said, her voice airy and trembling.

  He bent, dragging in her scent as he pulled the green and blue dinosaur-covered comforter back then did the same with the blue sheets.

  Cordray leaned over and gingerly set Null on the bed.

  God, she smelled good. Like midnight oranges covered in dew. Honey-scented, I-want-to-lick-it-off-her-skin dew.

  She pulled the covers up and tucked Null in.

  Then she turned her head toward Trace. They were still bent over Null’s bed. Only inches separated them.

  Her gaze fell to his mouth as her lips parted.

  A force inside him urged him to close the distance. To taste her. To claim her.

  He’d never felt such a magnetic attraction, not even to Micah or Sam.

  “We should probably leave and let them sleep,” she said without moving.