Deep in Crimson (A Return to Sanctuary Novel)

by Sarah Gilman

  Jett couldn’t sense anything unusual, but he knew his father stood at his side at that moment. “Thank you, Dad. I haven’t earned these yet, but I will. I promise.”

  Jett closed the safe and replaced the journals, leaving the wings for safekeeping, and left the office. No rest for Guardian trainees, especially if he wanted to earn the time to properly make Lexine his mate.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Another month of training passed before Jett took Lexine out of the colony in a black SUV fitted with a standard Vermont plate on the back and the “I am Vermont Strong” plate on the front. A trip like this would be next to impossible after he became an official Guardian to Raphael’s family, so as irregular as it was, he insisted on the plan and the colony provided the funds as a mating gift. They packed for a week, including everything they needed to pass off as humans. He’d had plenty of experience with that, after all. They’d only need to mind their fangs.

  Niagara Falls, not because it was a popular wedding destination, but to take Lexine to the plethora of wineries in the area. He’d hoped the trip would make her happy, and sure enough, they went all day and most of the night, nonstop, so she could see everything she wanted to see.

  Well, almost nonstop. On their second night, after viewing the falls, they returned to their room, bathed together, and curled up in bed.

  “You’re sure you don’t want something more fancy?”

  “I just want you,” she said.

  He cradled her in his arms and pressed his mouth to hers, taking his time, just savoring her presence, her skin, her scent. Kissing his way down her throat and arm, he pinched her skin with his teeth, teasing her. She shivered.

  “Jett,” she said. “Please.”

  He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and lifted her left arm—the traditional choice—to his lips. He kissed the soft skin just below her elbow and pressed his fangs in just hard to break the surface, numbing the spot with venom. Pausing, he let the full weight of what he was doing wash over him. He trembled and his heart flailed, unable to maintain a steady rhythm. “I love you,” he whispered.

  He tightened his embrace and bit harder. He targeted muscle, aiming to infuse her body with venom without spilling any more of her blood than necessary—he’d been man enough to get some advice on technique, though the conversation had been uncomfortable as hell. For Lexine, it was worth it. He wanted this done right. Within seconds, pain coursed through his body, an effect of the forming mating bond, which he’d been warned about.

  Her body tensed as the same unusual pleasure-pain rocked through her, her fingers fisted in his hair. After she relaxed with a contented sigh, and his own discomfort gave way to pleasant warmth, he withdrew his fangs. He licked her wound and held a white cloth to her skin until the bleeding stopped. All the while, she gazed up at him, her head resting on his shoulder.

  She kissed him. “I love you.”

  He opened his eyes wide at the sound of her voice in his mind. “I thought they were joking.”

  “Someone told you?” She scowled. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  He held her face in his hands, parted her lips with his tongue, and kissed her deeply. “We can truly hear each other’s thoughts?”

  “Only when we’re touching.”

  He held her close and lightly bit her shoulder. “I’ve never been happier than I am right now. Can you “hear” how much?”

  “Yes.” She leaned away, tears in her eyes. “Yes, I can.”

  As the weight of her joy flooded him—through the mating bond and his empathy talent—he lay down on his back and pulled her over his chest.

  They passed the night in bed, even though they didn’t sleep, making love and watching movies, eating popcorn.

  “Lexine?”

  “Yes?”

  “You know why you make me happy, right?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I could list numerous reasons, of course, ranging from your tenacity to learn to fight with Raphael, to the way you smile in your sleep, but you were the first demon in Sanctuary to trust me and to care what path I took. You gave me the strength to do what I’ve done, Lex. I owe it all to you.”

  “No.” She kissed him. “You’ve earned your own success, won your own battles.”

  “You saved my life. And I don’t mean in Morgan. I mean the first moment I saw you.”

  “Then to be fair, you saved me. Even though there was never a real poacher in my nightmare, I thought the worst of myself. Before I realized the truth of the lover in my dream, you gave me hope. You gave me faith in myself. So we’re even.”

  “We’re more than even.” Warmth filled his chest. “We’re mates.”

  She kissed his neck. “Yes.”

  “And I’m going to make sure it only gets better from here.”

  “Tall order.”

  “Just wait and see, beauty.”

  …

  On a crisp November morning, Jett walked through the first snowfall of the season to the garden behind the archangel house, his mouth dry, his legs unsteady from adrenaline. Several inches of heavy, wet snow clung to every surface, every branch and evergreen plant in the garden and forest beyond. Fat flakes drifted through the air and one landed on Jett’s nose, melting on contact.

  Beneath the snow-frosted pear trees, Raphael waited with Wren, Ginger, and the twins—the infants bundled in blankets. Opposite them stood Devin, Lark, Vin, and a dozen of Sanctuary’s eldest Guardians. Lexine graced the garden as well, standing between the two groups, dressed in an ankle-length red coat. Her smile could have stilled his heart.

  Jett stopped in front of Lex and knelt in the snow, the snowflakes landing and melting on his black uniform. His weapons, all cleaned, sharpened, and polished, clung to his body, their weight and the weight of the ceremony a welcome burden.

  Repeating after Lexine—whom Raphael had elected to give the ceremony—Jett took the oath to protect the lives of Raphael’s family with his own, naming them in turn. He meant every word, focusing on the core of his being as he spoke them. He hadn’t just earned this position, he’d gained friends, and he’d do right by them.

  For the second time in his life—the first being his recent mating—he’d gained something invaluable: a place to belong.

  “You may stand,” Lex said, a smile in her voice and tears on her cheeks. She took a step forward and opened her fisted hand, revealing tiny wings forged from gold—the ones his father had made. He’d finally earned the right to wear them, finally found his place in Sanctuary.

  Jett stood and tilted his head. His mate pinned the wings to his collar and threw her arms around him in an embrace so tight, his spine popped.

  “Ow,” he whispered in her ear.

  I love you.

  I love you, too. He gave her a light kiss before he released her, a quick brush of lips that warmed his entire body and his soul.

  Lexine backed away and all the demons in attendance approached one at a time, shaking his hand before departing in silence. The second to last Guardian, Devin, whispered threats of creative bodily harm if anything ever happened to his daughter. He smiled and moved on, letting Lark step forward.

  “It’s been a honor kicking your ass,” he said.

  The archangels approached last and they each thanked him for his commitment, formal words accompanied by brushed from their wings. Ginger gave him a kiss on the cheek. With the ceremony over, Jett turned to go and take up watch in the woods.

  “Join us for dinner and wine tonight, both of you,” Raphael said. “We need to do some real celebrating.”

  “We will.”

  Jett pulled Lex close and escorted her to the house behind the archangels, as happy as he’d ever been and looking forward to much more of their new life.

  Acknowledgements

  As always, I must thank all the editors at Entangled Publishing, especially Kaleen Harding, Liz Pelletier, Heather Howland, and Marie Loggia-Kee, who all contributed to making this book possible.

&nbs
p; About the Author

  Sarah Gilman writes paranormal romance. Her fascination with all things winged extends back to childhood, when images of the ancient Egyptian goddess Isis captured her imagination and never let go. She lives in Vermont with her supportive husband and two spoiled cats.

  Turn the page for an excerpt from

  Break Out

  A Blood Hunter Novel

  Nina Croft

  Chapter One

  Rico hurled himself behind the huge trunk of a tree and stood, back pressed against the rough bark, as the missiles whizzed past.

  An arrow thwacked into the wood behind him, and every muscle in his body tensed. He reached gingerly around and snapped it off. In the dim light, he held the shaft to his face and cursed loudly—wooden arrows. It was almost as though they were expecting him.

  “Goddamn heathen peasants.” He might as well be back in the Dark Ages.

  In the distance, a pack of hounds bayed for blood. His blood. But they weren’t getting it.

  He braced himself and peered around the trunk through the thick stand of trees, and spotted the crimson glow of a hundred torches not too far in the distance. Breathing in, he caught the oily scent of burning pitch.

  A triumphant roar filled the air. The hounds must have picked up his scent.

  Rico cursed and darted off again, weaving through the dense forest with blurring speed. He could outrun the mob and the hounds, but it was a damn poor way to end an evening.

  When the sound of voices faded behind him, he slowed down and finally came to a halt. Time to get the hell out of here. Leaning against a tree, he switched on his comm unit.

  “What is it?” Tannis sounded irritated, and Rico frowned.

  “I need picking up.”

  “It will have to be later—I’m busy.”

  He cocked his head to one side, listening for the sound of the mob, judging its distance. His pursuers would be on him soon. Tannis had better get unbusy and fast.

  “Tannis, stop whatever it is you’re doing, bring my goddamn spaceship, and pick me up.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”

  The line went dead. He stared at the comm receiver on his wrist. She’d cut him off. Gritting his teeth, he imagined the pleasure of tossing her mutant body out of the ship’s airlock. Only first, he had to get back to the ship. He pressed his finger down until he heard the line open.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “Tannis, are you aware that I’ve rigged El Cazador to blow if I don’t input a unique numerical code every twenty-four hours? Come and get me or the whole ship goes up.”

  “Good try, but I don’t believe you. You don’t think that far ahead.”

  He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that time last year?”

  “What time?”

  “The time I saved your worthless life. At great personal risk to myself.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So bloody well reciprocate.”

  A shaft of burning pain shot through his leg and he jumped, then stared down in disbelief at the arrow sticking out of his calf, an inch below the knee. “I’ve been shot,” he said.

  “Shot? By what?”

  “By a big fucking arrow. Get down here. Now.”

  He yanked the arrow from his leg and flung it to the forest floor. “Or you’re fired,” he added and shut off the connection.

  His pursuers were close now, so close he could hear the fierce crackle of flames mixed with the rise and fall of excited voices. He ignored the pain in his leg and took off through the trees again. A few minutes later, he skidded to a halt.

  Straight in front of him, the land fell away abruptly. He peeked over the edge. A long way below, water roared. A lot of water. A lot of cold water. He hated cold water. He searched the sky for any sign of Tannis, but a thick layer of cloud obscured the moons and he saw only darkness. He jammed his finger onto the comm unit. “You here yet?”

  “Have a little patience. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Great, just great. The problem is, I might not be here in five minutes.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. Just hold on.”

  He stared over the edge into the dark, turbulent water. “Hold on to what?”

  A low snarl sounded behind him. With a sigh of resignation, he turned to face his pursuers. They emerged from the shadowy tree line, torches held in front of them, before fanning out to form a semicircle around him.

  One of the hounds crept toward him, belly close to the ground, growling softly. It reminded Rico a little of the dogs back on Earth, probably even had some real dog DNA in there somewhere. Rico growled back, baring his fangs. The animal got the message, turned tail, and ran.

  A tall man stepped forward to stand at the center of the group. He wore the long black robes of a priest, and Rico groaned. Not heathens after all. Bloody religious fanatics. He should have expected it.

  When man had fled to the stars nearly a thousand years ago, the old religions had gone into an abrupt decline. By the year 2600, they had all but vanished from the universe, and good riddance as far as Rico was concerned.

  But that had changed with the discovery of Meridian.

  A rare, radioactive element with the ability to bestow immortality on those lucky enough to afford its exorbitant price, Meridian heralded the evolution of a new class—the Collective. Super rich and virtually indestructible, the Collective quickly gained power. Now, they ruled most of the civilized universe.

  But while not everyone could afford Meridian, everyone wanted immortality, and the old religious beliefs had gained a new popularity. The Church of Everlasting Life offered a cheaper, if less reliable, alternative with its promise of an afterlife in paradise.

  On these isolated outer planets, the Collective’s influence was slim and the Church took advantage of that and jumped in to fill the gap. A shudder of loathing ran through him. Rico had no feelings either for or against the Collective, but he hated the Church as only someone who had lived through the Inquisition could.

  “Son of Satan,” the priest cried, and the mob behind him roared.

  Rico rolled his eyes. “We’re not actually related.”

  A second man stepped forward, dragging a girl with him, and the priest grabbed her hair, tugged back her head. In the flickering light, Rico saw the puncture wounds in her ivory neck and had a flashback to the sweet taste of her blood.

  “I have been ordained by God,” the priest said, “for the punishment of the wicked and the eradication of evil.”

  “Get a life,” Rico muttered. “Look, it’s honestly no big deal—the marks will heal in a couple of days. You won’t even know I was here.”

  His words didn’t seem to impress them. Of course, the Church was rarely impressed unless they were slaughtering innocents, and Rico was the first to admit he hadn’t qualified as an innocent in numerous lifetimes. If ever.

  Five men stepped forward, and Rico watched them warily. They raised their bows, cocked their wooden arrows. Drew them taut and aimed them straight at his heart.

  Rico glanced over his shoulder at the icy water below. He was going to have to jump. “Shit.”

  He tensed himself, ready to dive over the edge, just as the sky filled with noise and light. His gaze shot upward. He released his breath. The shuttle hovered above them, and a laser beam shot out, cutting the ground between him and the archers. A voice boomed from the open hatch.

  “Lower your weapons.”

  But they were already edging backward. The shuttle flew lower, almost touching the ground, and Rico lunged for the open hatchway. “About bloody time.”

  The mob was almost back in the trees now, but at the last moment, the girl pulled free and raced toward the shuttle. She stared up at them, imploring. “Take me with you, Rico.”

  He looked at Tannis, raised an eyebrow.

  “No freaking way.” She reached across and slammed her palm to the door panel.

  Rico had a last brief glimpse
of the girl. He hoped she’d be okay, that her people would treat her as a victim, though she’d hardly been reluctant.

  “What took you so long?” he growled as the hatch slid shut behind him and the shuttle sped away from the planet.

  Tannis swiveled her chair to face him. She ran a hand through her short, dark hair and raised one brow in accusation. “Been eating the natives, Rico?”

  “Dios, I go out for a snack and all I get is hassle. I’ve got to eat.”

  He hobbled across and sank into the seat next to her, rubbing his leg and tossing Tannis a wounded look. His ship’s captain was no Florence Nightingale, but dammit, his leg hurt. “They shot me.”

  “Aw, poor baby.” She uncoiled her lean body from the chair and came to stand over him, her cold, yellow eyes looking him over. Reaching down, she tore open his pants leg. The bleeding had already stopped, the wound healing over. “You’ll live.”

  He frowned. “So what kept you?”

  “While you were down there playing, I got us a job.”

  “Legit?”

  “Shit, no.”

  His mood lightened. “Dangerous?”

  “For this sort of money, it’s probably going to kill us.”

  He grinned. “Sounds like my sort of job.”

  Get tangled in Entangled Select

  The Demon’s Daughter by Paula Altenburg

  After demons leave the world in ruins, the Demon Slayer, Hunter, is the only man capable of protecting it. But when he’s hired to bring a thief to justice, Hunter gets more than he’d bargained for.

  Raised in an abandoned temple as a priestess’s daughter, Airie is unaware that she is the half-breed spawn of a demon…and a goddess. In a time when half-breeds are despised by mortal and immortal alike, Airie’s ignorance of her true bloodlines is the only thing keeping her safe. Especially since spending her days wrestling the required sacrifices from visitors of the Goddesses’ mountain where she grew up doesn’t make her many allies.