Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3

by Azure Boone

  A little grin flirted around his mouth. "If I promise to dig the grave, can I get rid of the competition?" He grinned full on, fit to stop her heart.

  The unexpected words accompanied with the highly lascivious reaction she had to them had her mentally scrambling to hide. Normally her mind would effortlessly block all reality that attempted to breech the protective man-wall around her, but holding that fort was proving to take actual effort with this guy. She searched the white landscape desperate for a distraction big enough to aid her. Nightmare visions of piles of dead cattle half submerged in false drifts came to her rescue, putting her mind back on task. “God, please protect my ranch, please,” she mumbled, squinting in the strange bright sun. She peered all around. “What is this, the eye of the blizzard? Such freaky weather.”

  “Yes ma'am.”

  She glanced at the odd man. He really felt like surreal art, and not just the look of him sitting there, but in her life at all. He seemed to feel her periodic surmising and glanced at her. She shook her head and focused on the road. “You’re weird, you know that?”

  He gave a light snort. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression from you. Thanks.”

  “Hey, I’m just being honest, you don’t like it, I’m sorry, it’s who I am.”

  “I like it.”

  She did a few double takes at him. “See? That’s what I mean, I insult you and you’re all fine with it. That’s not normal. That’s weird.”

  He grinned and licked his lips, not looking her way. “I’m not the type to let other people’s opinions define me. I know who I am. You don’t. I can respect that.”

  Sam snorted. “Well if that isn’t a back-handed compliment I never heard one. Suppose I deserved it.”

  “It wasn’t meant to hurt you.”

  Oh, there it was again, that jiggly honey feeling that sometimes came with his tone. It came occasionally and well, it was beginning to annoy the hell out of her. The way it found every secret her body possessed just wasn't right.

  “Mister, that kind of thing doesn’t hurt me, I much prefer brute honesty over flattery.”

  “Then you’ll be able to appreciate that I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Sam nearly lost control of the truck at his stupid words. She glared at him several times, her heart pounding like a sledge hammer. No. No way. “You lie as well as you tell the truth. Don’t you fucking start with that bullshit, or I will fire you immediately.”

  “Firing me won’t change the truth darlin’” The grin she expected never materialized. His face stayed as straight as a preacher at a funeral.

  “Look, insult me with truth all day long—”

  “Insult you with truth? Now there’s an oxymoron. How is me thinking you’re beautiful an insult?” Still no sexy melt your drawers grin.

  She was dumbfounded with his stupidity. “Wow, you sound as though you’re genuinely clueless.”

  “I am,” he said incredulous.

  “Are you blind mister? Maybe you’re into the young boy look? Is that it? Please tell me you’re not an escaped pedophile convict.” That had to be it.

  “Wow, you’ve got yourself one hell of a complex little lady.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Which part? Little, or lady.”

  “Am I wearing a flowered dress and a bonnet? Do I look like a goddamn lady to you?”

  “Very much.”

  She was just getting deeper into his bullshit. “Okay, okay fine. You claim what you want but don’t think it’ll win you a damn thing, I’m not impressed with flattery, but muscle merit.”

  “I’ve got your muscle.”

  She couldn’t stifle the laugh, not because it was funny but because of how his words affected her right between her dad gum legs. “I don’t think you ever told me what it was you all did before you came here. Is freak circus in your job history?”

  “You are amazing.” Slight exasperation accompanied the muttered words. “Why do I like this?”

  Sam laughed outright. “That’s a damn good question.” But she couldn’t resist the good feeling bubbling inside her. Had to be cause the sun was shining and she was back to work keeping the ranch alive, if it wasn’t already dead. And now that she had real muscle to help her, well of course that was an answered prayer and something to be thrilled over.

  Toren watched his sexy—yes, there was surely no other term for it—wife-to-be, fly up her house steps and race through the screen door on the front porch. He looked around, absorbing the breeze and letting his mercury read the air, seeking out supernatural particles. He’d used way too much power and was searching for signs of a backlash. He’d done it carefully, healing her body in small doses, every hour allowing his mercury properties to bind with the sickness whenever he checked her for fever. He only immobilized it so that her immune system could fight faster. Then he slowly set random pockets of resistance around the ranch to redirect the storm. Even with all his subtlety, he knew to never underestimate an enemy.

  He kept close to Samantha’s heels. A little too close. She stopped abruptly and spun around and Toren nearly ran her over. He wrapped his arms around her to keep from plowing her to the floor. Toren had to overstep to break his stride and they ended like a dancing couple, her in a dip with him staring into her annoyed face.

  “My God I was about to tell you to get off my damn heels before you run me over, guess I’m too late.”

  Toren couldn’t hear her words around his erratic pulse. The urge to kiss her was unbearable. He pulled her up and her mouth to his. And God, he tasted her. She squealed as he vowed she was definitely worth whatever repercussions this would earn him. She shoved against his chest and he forced himself to pull up before his tongue went to work on hers.

  “Everything okay here?”

  Toren stood her on her feet and turned. He eyed the dark headed human male, his upper lip raising as his mercury sniffed the contagions he carried. The vile odor was the same one that made the little cabin nearly uninhabitable.

  He put his hand on Sam’s stomach and moved her behind him, ready to kill in her defense if necessary. And judging by the waves of anger and distrust rolling off her, it might be necessary.

  She shoved her way out of his protective hold and came to stand next to him. “What is your problem?” She slapped Toren’s arm and then looked at the man. “Hello Joe¸ glad to see you survived. How are the men?”

  Toren watched the male’s eyes slide from her face to her hair then down over her body in a possessive manner that made Toren's blood thicken like it did before battle. “You look like hell.” The man's tone held a blatant disrespect.

  “And you look like you’ve been trampled by rabid steers.”

  The man ignored her sarcasm with ease. “I feel like it too.” He nodded at her hair. “At least you look more like an heir now.”

  Toren felt Samantha’s chemical levels go from disgust to murder in a second, and his mercury itched to fuse with it and create a lethal weapon to impale the human with. It was part angelic instinct to put down wickedness in all its forms, no matter how subtle, but he especially wanted to impale the guy who’d hurt her. And this male had done far more than make a few nasty remarks. Toren needed to remember not to do anything rash or the demons he smelled all over the bastard would see through his shield. There was no getting around using human-like traits to accomplish those types of jobs for him.

  But for the moment, he needed to convince Samantha that throwing the punch itching in her slender arm and fist wouldn’t serve a purpose other than his satisfaction. “I’m Toren.” He held a hand out, focusing on not measuring the man’s sins or anything else his angelic instincts would demand.

  The male slowly stretched out his hand as if it were a concealed weapon. “Josephus is my given name.”

  Toren shook his hand wanting so badly to weigh his filth. If he had to guess by Samantha’s judgment, the human had enough evil in him to
form a cruel, diabolical dictator capable of mass deaths. Toren released him and met Samantha’s glare. She clearly didn’t like him showing an inkling of kindness to Mr. Josephus. He leaned and kissed her on the forehead. “I think she looks beautiful.”

  Toren held his breath, hoping she caught on. One look in her eyes, he realized did she ever. She gave him a sweet smile and patted his face softly. “You are so sweet.” She leaned up and kissed him on the lips. Toren took full advantage of the divine gift, slipping his arms around her slender waist and pulling her body to his, wrecking her effort to keep it light. Pushing her lips open with his, he kissed her like she deserved to be kissed, sliding his tongue along hers with a hunger that startled him.

  “Get a room,” the human muttered as he exited through the screen door.

  She shoved him and broke the kiss with a gasp, glanced at Joe’s retreating back before whirling around to slap Toren across the face.

  Toren groaned at the stinging feeling, closing his eyes from the pain of needing her so badly. Father help him. If his future was going to be full of that feeling, he'd need all his angelic strength to bear it.

  “You!” she gasped like somebody hyperventilating, “had better not…do that shit again.” She wiped her mouth with a trembling hand and stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her.

  Toren couldn’t stop his ear to ear grin at recalling the sweet moan she’d given when his tongue met hers. That was clear indication that she’d liked it. And that made him feel like he’d all but won the war.

  He followed her into the house and looked around the small kitchen, where Kassie bent over at the oven. She straightened and wiped her hands on her worn flowered apron and eyed him from head to foot then up again. He smiled at her and the suspicious glare in her eyes melted away. She pointed up. “What on earth did you do to that girl, I haven’t seen her in that much of a hurry since she was seven years old, runnin from trouble she got caught in.” She held a steady eye on him and it suddenly seemed respectful to glance away.

  “I just said she was beautiful.”

  Her loud snicker followed a brief moment of silence. “Well that explains it.”

  He met her lit up steel blue gaze. “And I kissed her.”

  She sucked in her breath and a huge smile bloomed on her face. “Ohhhh my word.” She nodded eagerly and shooed him. “Well go on and go check on her, stairs are right there. Get.” She shoved him and Toren followed her orders.

  Toren found his way fairly easy but she wasn’t in either of the two bedrooms so he went to the only closed door. He stood next to it and listened, his mercury nearly boiling when her soft sobs reached his ears.

  The door sat ajar a scant inch and he couldn't resist looking. She was fussing over her hair, hating the reflection in the mirror. Toren’s chest tightened. She examined the bald spot on her head and another sob escaped as she tried to fix the surrounding hair so that it hid it better. Toren released a breath, his body hurting with her pain, and his need to erase it.

  The door jerked open and Toren froze. He’d been too immersed in feeling her needs to even pick up on the fact that she was done whining about what couldn’t be changed. “I was…”

  She stood there with her hands on her hips, those sky blue eyes narrowed and bright on him, head shaking in yet another disappointment. “Didn’t I tell you to leave me—”

  “Kassie asked me to check on you.”

  Her mouth snapped shut and she stepped aside and held her hand toward the bathroom. “I’m guessing you’d want to take a shower. Everything you need is in there.” He noticed her tone had taken on a nicer edge by a millisecond degree. It was better than nothing.

  “Thank you.”

  She hardened her gaze. “Do you always have to act like a delicate daisy?”

  He stared at her lips. “No. I can be hard for you.”

  Her anger dissolved and she swallowed. Probably because Toren couldn’t keep his desire for her out of the words. He realized what he’d actually said and how it sounded.

  “I didn’t…”

  “Sure you didn’t.” She stormed past him. “I’ll be downstairs watching the news and figuring out what the weather is going to do, then we need to get ready and tour the ranch if the weather permits. I need to see how many head we lost.”

  Her voice rose harder as she descended the stairs.

  Toren grinned at the automatic 'we' she used. She was already including him. “You need to eat,” he called to her.

  “Yes daddy.”

  Toren smiled and went into the bathroom. A shower? He’d never had one of those. He opened the medicine cabinet and stared at the contents. His eyes landed on a pair of scissors and almost immediately the idea hit him. Then he saw a razor and another idea decided it.

  Toren showered, truly at awe with the amazing feeling of the hot water. Hanging around humans was probably wearing off on him through his mercury properties. And he liked what he experienced so far.

  ** ** **

  Sam made her way to the office at the back of the house where her computer was. She learned as she went just from observation that her Daddy must be well. His cane was leaning against the office wall and the air smelled like his pipe smoke. Dumb fool was already smoking, begging for a relapse or maybe pneumonia this time. She settled into the office chair. Did that mean the rest of the hands were up and about too? She wouldn’t need to waste money on that new guy if that was the case. And really, they couldn’t afford it. At all.

  She logged on to the comp and drummed her fingers rapidly on the desk. Fifteen minutes and she got all she needed to know. The storm had somehow gone around them before the worst of it hit. Worst? She hoped neighboring ranches faired as lucky as hers. Now all that was left was checking on the other hands and getting the ranch running again.

  "What the hell you doin, girl?" Her Daddy's hard voice made her leap from the chair and spin to face him. "I'd think you'd know better than show your whoring face here." He turned his back, noticeably thinner and more frail than before.

  She swallowed the unwelcome sob the nasty words brought, forging ahead to deal with the problem. "What are you talking about?"

  The old man whirled on her, nearly falling in his anger. "You have the gall to speak to me? After you've spent the last week holed up somewhere fuckin a new hired hand? Look at yourself. Not even the decency to wash his stench off you."

  She gasped and swallowed another sob, but she couldn't keep the single tear from rolling out of the corner of her eye. A deep breath stiffened her spine and she met his flinty dark eyes head on. "For your information, there was a fire at the second hay shed. I dragged a calf out and the smoke nearly killed me. The hand took me to the line cabin until I got well enough to move. Nothing happened that shouldn't have." The flames of his mouth on her skin burned through her mind but she resolutely put them away. "And how dare you question my integrity?"

  The old man's gaze burned her with devastating intensity. "Integrity? Hah. What a laugh. You're just like the bitch that birthed you. Spread your legs to anything with a dick."

  Wounded to an unimaginable depth, Sam couldn't hold the tears back any longer. She jerked her gaze up at the soft knock and her heart froze right in her chest as Toren stalked into the office. With no hair.

  He halted just inches from her father, fury radiating off him until he seemed to glow with it. He looked a foot taller despite his now bald head, towering over the old man. "Mister, you don't know me and I don't know you, but you are not going to talk to Samantha that way. Apologize to her." Sam’s heart stuttered at the highly unusual male defense she knew her daddy would scorn without a doubt.

  The buzzard dragged himself up to his full five foot ten and thrust his bony shoulders back. "Boy, you better get the fuck out of my house and off my ranch before I shoot you."

  Not the least effected, Toren leaned his face down closer to his. "You can fill me up with all the lead you like, human, but you will apolog
ize to my woman or I will choke your scrawny neck."

  The heart-stopping and amazing threat wouldn’t go over well, Sam knew and before she could shout a warning to Toren, her Daddy flipped his ever-present Derringer out of his sleeve and pulled the trigger.

  Sam screamed in panic but the gun only clicked and the old man stared at it in shock.

  "Jesus,” Sam gasped, barely realizing she’d snatched the snub-nosed .38 from the desk drawer and aimed it at her father. “Daddy, you better be glad that thing misfired." Her voice trembled as bad as her body and without a word she returned it to the drawer shaken to the core.

  Without his weapon, her father cowered before Toren who stood like a determined bull, his stance as dominant as ever. The old man's shoulders sagged and he turned, slow, and shuffled from the room, all the piss and vinegar gone.

  “Let him go,” Sam muttered, worried Toren would still demand the apology. She just wanted her father out of her sight and away from…Toren. She didn’t want the hired hand getting in the middle of her shit, that was just…unheard of. Wasn’t his business, hell, wasn’t good business period. And that’s what Toren was, business. Had to be.

  The door closed and Toren turned to her. "I didn't mean to cause trouble."

  The indignation she’d hoped to muster for the sake of returning things to professional, was nowhere to be found as she stared at him, the familiar stranger before her, tugging so hard at her heart. "You didn't.” She kept her voice small, not trusting it. “He's been like that since I was fourteen and got my period.” She smiled a little and pointed at his head. “What’d you do, brush your face and shave your head?”

  He shifted immediately to the sexy Toren and slid his hand over his head in a way that made her want to do the same. He gave her one of his panty-burning smiles.

  “It was time for a haircut.”

  She snickered and picked at the patch of peeling varnish on the corner of the desk. “You’re bald!”

  He shrugged a shoulder and looked down. “Tell me what you need me to do, and it’s done.”