Of course. Michael was of the divine, warrior angels. They didn’t have mates.
“In the old Delancey subway,” Aethan said instead. “It’s a known hunting ground. I cleaned house, but Echo got hurt.” His tone flat, he told Michael what he’d witnessed and about the wound the demon left on her. “That’s why I brought her here. It’s the only place she’ll be safe until this mess is dealt with and the demon after her is dead.”
Michael rose and came around to lean against the side of the mahogany desk. Good thing the furniture in this place was made to take their weight. “This demon, did you get a look at him?”
“No.” Aethan stopped pacing, his back to the french doors. “There were too many of them. The portal slammed shut the moment I appeared. But she said the demon called himself Lazaar.”
Michael frowned. “Not familiar with the name. I’ll check it out. Does she fit into the parameters of whom we search for?”
“No. Her psychic abilities are slight. There’s nothing of pyre and rime in her powers, I checked. She sees auras. It’s how she recognizes demons and demoniis and how I first came across her.”
He filled Michael in about the incident at the cathedral. “I arrived just as the demonii disintegrated, and she attacked me like I was one of them in a move so efficient. Calculated. Someone’s trained her to kill in that way...” Aethan narrowed his eyes. It had to be that idiot guardian, but if he hadn’t, then Echo could have died—shit! He guessed he should be thankful.
Heavy footfalls sounded in the corridor, ending their conversation. Blaéz strolled in and took the leather recliner close to the desk. Týr followed a few minutes later. Ignoring Aethan, he sprawled into the other one adjacent to Blaéz.
Right, he’d still had the mess with Týr to deal with, too.
The male plucked out an M&M’s package from his leather jacket and poured several into his palm. He made his selection, tossed the red, candy-covered, chocolate pebbles into his mouth, then dumped the rest back into the bag. Before he could shove the sweets back into his pocket, Blaéz reached out and nabbed it then tipped the entire contents into his mouth.
“And that’s how you eat candy.” Crunching on the sweets, he balled up the empty package and shot it into the crackling flames.
Týr merely stared at Blaéz but a ghost of a smile flickered in his dark gaze.
“Right.” Michael straightened. His Drillers hitting the marbled floor, he walked to the window then turned to them. “I’ve spoken with Gaia. She decrees when the female is found, one of us will be chosen as her protector. It’s imperative.”
“What do you mean, one of us must be her protector?” Aethan asked. He didn’t like the sound of that. Hell, he had enough shit to deal with. Echo was a magnet for trouble of the worse kind.
“It would be overwhelming for a mortal, who has no idea we exist and isn’t aware of the powerful bloodline she carries to come to terms with all this. She will need someone she can trust to ease her into the path her life will take and guide her to her destiny.
“More important, she will choose her protector. The rest of us will guard her until this is over. If I have to call the others in, it will be done.”
“Same crap, nothing new,” Týr muttered and pushed to his feet.
“No, it isn’t.” Michael’s eyes became slits of sapphire ice. “She is more. The female we search for will be the only one who can enter any realm at will. She’ll have the ability to heal fractures in the psychic veils and strengthen them, keeping out entities, which must not be allowed to pass through. She will be The One. The long awaited Healer of the Veils.”
Michael drew closer, his expression somber. “If the demons get hold of her, this realm will be the first to fall. Should that occur, it would be a disaster of cataclysmic proportion. We must find her fast.”
CHAPTER 12
The sound of clashing metal reverberated around the white cliffs. Echo strained forward but the man holding her hand wouldn’t let her go.
“I want to see.”
He shook his head. But the branches parted out of the way and there she saw the men, fighting with deadly swords. Lightning flashed from them, bouncing of the cliff walls and sizzling around her. She pulled back in fear.
“It’s all right,” a soothing voice said. “You can handle us, little one. Remember that.”
She glanced up and met the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. Then the man’s face dissipated...like fog.
Echo came awake to the scent of rainstorms teasing her nose. She rubbed the scar on her forehead and a sense of déjà vu settled over her. She had the strangest feeling she dreamt of that man before. He seemed familiar, but try as she might, she couldn’t remember anything.
Sighing, she looked around her and found herself on an ocean-sized bed, undeniably warm. The source of that beautiful heat came from a huge fireplace at the far end of the enormous bedroom. Above the mantel, antique swords graced the dark wall, and she recalled where she was.
Aethan’s home.
She’d slept in a real castle. Even the inside walls were of gray stone. French doors opened to a balcony. The outer wall flowed to the spacious circular sitting room on the far side, with deep brown leather loungers and a flat-screen TV. It had to be the most amazing...suite? Rooms? She had no idea what to call it, but it was gorgeous. But despite its extravagance, the huge bank of windows drew her attention. Heavy indigo curtains cascaded from the ceiling, flanking either end.
Echo eased out of the bed and pushed to her feet. She swayed and landed back on the mattress.
Darn! She hadn’t realized how weak she was. Slowly, she rose again and made her way steadily across the room to the windows. The late afternoon sun cast a pinky-orange glow across the sky. The terrace, edged with rambling vines and potted plants, led out to lush gardens. She could see miles of parkland leading to the edges of a forest. Leaning her head against the cool pane, she braced her hands on them to support her shaky limbs and let tranquility seep into her.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
Aethan’s annoyed voice shattered the serenity. Before she could turn around, warm calloused hands swept her off her feet. Breathless, she flung her arms around his neck as he carried her back.
“I just got out of bed and you’re putting me back in it,” she protested as he laid her down and drew the covers over her. He didn’t respond, just stacked more pillows behind her.
It was the first time she’d seen him without his coat or dressed all in black. He wore dark jeans and a gray T-shirt with that three-button opening. The long sleeves were pushed up to reveal strong forearms while the rest just hugged a muscular body that rippled with every movement he made. His stunning hair flowed free down his back.
Her hands itched to touch him, to stroke his face. Instead, she closed her eyes and inhaled his scent of warm man and wild storms.
“Now, stay here. If you want anything, ring for Hedori or call me.”
Her eyes snapped open. Just because she was compliant on the drive here didn’t mean he could continue to tell her what to do. The fault lay with the potion. It made her soft, loopy and annoyingly agreeable.
“I’m not staying in bed. Nothing hurts anymore.”
He straightened, crossed his thick arms over his chest, his expression grim.
“Two nights ago, I saw a horde of demoniis three times your weight trample you. And moments ago I found you using the damn window as a prop—my decision stands.”
He just had to point that out. She slumped against her pillows in resignation, exasperated at his dogged determination to make her an invalid.
Echo glared at the vaulted ceilings and considered her options, unable to stay in bed when she was awake.
“Crap!” She shoved the covers aside in panic. “I didn’t call work. Jim’s gonna be furious with me.”
“What do you plan on doing?” He blocked her escape. “Walk back to the city?”
“Aethan,” she began in what she hoped was a reasonable tone. She didn’t
feel up to fighting him right now. “I can’t be away from work. I have clients who rely on me.”
Gray eyes pinned hers, beautiful, intense, and about as welcoming as ice. “I saved your stubborn hide from being taken to a person’s worst nightmare, so forgive me if I don’t give a damn about anything else.”
At his cold fury, Echo drew back. “But I feel better.”
“Do you?” A nerve ticked in his jaw. “Very well, show me. A minute of any workout.”
She scowled, knowing he was right. She’d fall flat on her face, then he’d keep her chained to the bed even longer.
He didn’t say a word when she didn't move, but he hunkered beside the bed and removed the dressing from her arm. He examined the wound, his touch gentle as he pressed the reddened skin surrounding the gouges.
Owww! That hurt. Echo bit the inside of her lips as pain spread from the injury. So he’d proved his point.
He rewrapped the dressing, his gaze leveled with hers. This close, she could see the icy fissures in his eyes.
“Echo, this is important.” He rested his forearms on the bed. “As long as those lacerations are unhealed, you cannot go out unescorted. A powerful demon caused those wounds and he can track you wherever you go while in this condition. And trust me on this, he has probably found a way to get you through the portal by now.”
She gave into the impulse and reached out to stroke his lean cheek. The roughness of his unshaven jaw, the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, pulled a sigh from her throat. Desire simmered in her stomach.
At his sharp look, she dropped her hand to her lap. Her shoulders lifted in a little shrug. “You’re beautiful—can’t help myself.”
He watched her for a second longer. “Echo, did you hear me?”
“Uh-huh.”
He must be used to women throwing themselves at him. She didn’t care for the thought and tried to focus on their conversation. He’d said something about being careful. Well, she was always careful.
“Whatever happens, even after your arm heals, nights are off limits. Don’t ask me why again. This time heed my request.” His words had a hard bite to them.
If her life was normal, she wouldn’t hesitate about following his advice after nearly being dragged into Hell. But she had a mission to accomplish, a demonii to kill before she laid her dagger to rest. Since she couldn’t agree to that suggestion, she changed the subject.
“What happened in the subway? I remember the demoniis, the portal, and then feeling like someone used a baseball bat on me.” She frowned, trying to grasp onto wispy images. “I felt warm, but...it gets a little hazy there. I thought I saw a white light—” She shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “Imagine, seeing lightning in the subway? Stupid, huh? Guess I must have taken a harder hit to the head than I thought.”
Aethan shifted on his haunches. “You took more than a blow to your head. The white light you saw was me.”
Echo stilled, her fingers squashing the bed linens as her heartbeat sped up. She’d read about people having really strong powers but that was in books, fiction. In reality, she’d come across very few people who were like her. It had been hard but she’d accepted her ability that had caused her so much pain. A small part of her still envied Kira with her gift to change the color of anything. But, it was the first time she met someone with Aethan’s abilities. “You can control lightning?”
“In a way, yes.”
“That’s a powerful ability. People can get hurt...die. Have you ever killed anyone?” she asked him.
***
Had he ever killed anyone?
Right. Like he was going to answer that question. Ever. He moved to stand. “Rest now, leave the questions for later.”
“Wait–wait.” She laid her hand on his arm. And his body craved more. “How did you find me in the subway?”
“I didn’t. My dagger summoned me. The one you stole from me at the cathedral.”
“I don’t know what you–hey–hey! I object!” She glowered at him. “You stole mine first. You didn’t think I would let you get away with it, did you?”
Amusement tugged the corners of his lips at her snippy response, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had to shut off the urge to lean in and kiss her.
“You should smile more,” she said softly.
Aethan shot to his feet and moved away. Gods, she was too close, too tempting. He found himself wanting her with an increasing desperation. Her scent, her honeyed skin, made him want to lay her out on the bed and taste every inch of her. He stopped at the fireplace as if distance would rid him of her touch. His need—
“Aethan?”
“What?” Frustration igniting his temper, he turned to her. At her wary expression, he instantly regretted his brusque tone. He rubbed his face and tried for a softer one. “What is it?”
“You–what do you do? What are you?”
He stared at her for a heartbeat.
Your mate. The words hovered, demanding to be said. He choked them back. The decision not to claim her was the toughest he’d ever made, but he had no choice. Not when the alternative meant her death.
“For now, I’m the one who’s going to keep you safe. You need any help to the bathroom?”
***
Echo stepped out of the shower and plucked the bath towel from the rail. Her apartment could easily fit in this stunning bathroom with its dark green marble tiles and trio of elongated windows. But it didn’t hold her attention for long as she thought about the man in the other room. Hastily, she dried herself and searched through the backpack he left on the counter for her clothes. She changed into sweats and a tee and went back to the bedroom.
Disappointment slid to her stomach when she found it empty. Setting her backpack on the armchair in the lounge, she turned, hearing a sound. The door opened and Aethan came in, carrying a tray which he set on the low coffee table. His gaze skimmed over her, no doubt checking to see if she could stand without falling face first to the floor.
Echo couldn’t stop the little tremors rushing through her at his potent scrutiny. Nervously, she scraped back her damp hair.
Jesus, she had no idea why he affected her like that. Granted, she was attracted to him. Heck, who wouldn’t be? The man exuded such visceral sexuality. It seeped into her pores and hummed in her like another heartbeat.
His dark eyes skimmed over the sweats riding low on her hips then traveled up to glide over her form-fitting green tee. Her nipples tightened when they lingered on her breasts. His gray eyes flared in response, but he merely said, “Take a sweatshirt from my closet if you’re cold.”
“I’ll be fine,” she murmured, aware that the goosebumps dotting her skin had little to do with feeling cold. And she had a feeling that he knew, too.
He came over, picked up her arm, and examined the wound. Then he went to the bedside drawer, procured the ointment, and applied it to her lacerations.
Her gaze trailed over him. He’d changed, she realized. Leathers hugged his muscular legs and a black crew neck shirt molded his chest. And he’d tied his hair into a queue.
“You’re going out?” She tried to keep her voice even.
“Yes.”
Dressed the way he was, it had to be to one of those hardcore clubs—
She cut off the thought, dropped her eyes, and tried to ease the constriction in her chest. He hunted demoniis. She understood that, but the entire night? And dressed like that? Yeah, right.
He looked ready for a night of debauchery with some woman who wasn’t her. Who’d touch him, kiss him and—
Echo bit the inside of her lip. The pain helped distract her while she waited for him to apply a fresh dressing, so she could put some distance between them.
No such luck.
Tossing the ointment on the table, he led her to the sitting area with a hand on her lower back.
“Eat.” He indicated the tray on the low table. Sandwiches covered one plate and thick slices of chocolate cake another. The thought of eating anything m
ade her want to hurl.
“I’m not hungry.” Ignoring his frown, she turned to her backpack. She’d missed taking her suppressant last night—no, make that three nights. Panicking, she took the hand-sized bottle from one of the pockets. And wondered why she bothered.
The pheromone suppressant helped keep men at bay, so they wouldn’t go into a frenzy and jump her. But the one man she wanted didn’t seem interested in her at all. Oh, he reacted all right, but only when she provoked him.
Echo bit down on her teeth. She’d be damned if she took this potion in front of him. She had some pride.
Pivoting, she headed for the bathroom, only to collide into his hard chest. The heat of his body scorched her. She gasped and pulled back like she’d been burned. His gaze smoldered like a living flame, hot silver, before they blanked out to cool gray.
He took the bottle from her hand, uncapped it and sniffed. “What is this?”
The horrid aroma of moss, and other vegetation Gran must have dug up from beneath a rotting copse of trees, infused the air.
“Nothing.” Embarrassment coursed through her and heated her skin. She held out her hand. At his unyielding look, she glared at him. “My suppressant, okay?”
“For what?”
She didn’t answer, just wiggled her fingers.
He didn’t budge.
She made a grab for the bottle again but he pulled it out of her reach. Her gaze fired in irritation. “Suppressing my pheromones, all right? Gran makes it for me. It keeps anything with a Y chromosome at bay, most of them anyway. I missed three days. Don’t be surprised if you find demoniis on your doorstep.”
“Demoniis are drawn to you?”
“Yeah, I got the crap end of the deal when abilities were handed out. Seeing demoniis and having them attracted to you. It doesn’t get better than that.”
His eyes narrowed at her caustic comment.
“I’m allowed to be annoyed,” she muttered. “The suppressant keeps men away, but doesn’t work on demon-kind.”
“And you had no choice but to protect yourself,” he said as if realizing the truth of her problem.
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