Night Angel (Gargoyle Night Guardians Book 2)

by Rosalie Redd

  She stroked her fingers across his cheek and over the tender spot on his jaw. Warmth seeped into his chest at the contact. Oh, gods, he liked her touch far too much.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked.

  “No.” He forced the word past the lump lodged in his throat. “The damage will heal within the hour.”

  “Oh.” She traced the spot once again. “Are there ways to make it heal faster?”

  He brushed his thumb over the smooth skin on her arm. “Yes. Water over my skin, nearness to domesticated animals, and sex.”

  An adorable flush of pink tinged her cheeks. “If you kissed me, would it help?”

  A flinch tightened his grasp on her arms. “Oh, darlin’, you don’t want to become tainted by the likes of me. Besides, I’d need far more than a kiss. I’d need you naked beneath me, my tongue licking your bare flesh with a little chocolate and some whipped cream spread over every delectable inch.”

  “Oh…” Her beautiful emerald eyes widened, and she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He’d been around enough women to recognize a seductress when he saw one. Hannah wasn’t one of them.

  The surprise in her eyes portrayed an innocence he’d rarely seen. He’d bet his bottom dollar she was a virgin. He needed to scare her away, show her how dangerous he could be to her.

  Seth brushed away a stray hair caught in Hannah’s eyelashes. He trailed his fingertips along the smooth skin of her cheek before resting them along her jawline. “I’m not someone you should get involved with. I kill for a living.”

  She pursed those full, luscious lips. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. You’re not dangerous to me, I know it.”

  “So beautiful.” The words escaped his mouth before he’d realized he’d said them aloud.

  Hannah inhaled, and a small smile brightened her features. “You think so?”

  He blinked. Certainly, she didn’t doubt her attractiveness. “You’re a rare beauty, like sunset reflecting on a lake, snowflakes on a red rose, and the kiss of dew on…”

  Before he could stop himself, he wrapped his fingers around her nape and drew her to him. With the softest of touches, he brought his mouth to hers. The brush of their lips burned like blissful fire.

  She dug her fingers into his T-shirt, bunching the material in her fists. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Even through the T-shirt’s material, he felt the tightening of her nipples. Overwhelming need roared within him.

  He deepened the kiss, claiming her with a passion he hadn’t experienced since his human days. Deliberately, he licked at the seam along her lips.

  She gasped at the contact, opening to him. He slid his tongue along hers, brushing with long, languid strokes. She trembled in his arms, accepting him with trust and naivety.

  With his gargoyle speed, he pinned her against the nearest wall, trapping her in his embrace. He continued his onslaught, kissing her with a ravaging passion that burned from the desperate depths of his soul.

  Despite not wanting to give in to her request, he’d wanted her from the moment they’d met, and he’d enjoy every moment of this kiss.

  She mewled, a desperate sound that burrowed deep inside. He pressed his erection against her abdomen, showing her how much she tempted him. Perhaps that might scare her away.

  She buried her fingers into his scalp and held him close.

  Not the reaction he’d expected. Although a part of him wanted to pick her up and drag her to the nearest bed, he broke the kiss, released her, and stepped aside.

  Their panting breaths echoed in the room.

  Hannah sighed. “Wow, just wow. Why did you stop?”

  “Don’t tempt me, Hannah. You have no idea what I’ve done.”

  She blinked, and her brow furrowed. “Then tell me.”

  He’d never tell her about the crimes he’d committed and the lives he’d destroyed. She’d hate him, and that he couldn’t handle.

  Instead, he settled for something in between. “I’m a gargoyle, Hannah. There’s a reason I have a questionable soul. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. You deserve some nice young man. Not to be sullied by the likes of me.”

  Her beautiful features tightened, but then a smile tugged at her lips. “You’re not as bad as you think you are. You know, if you keep rescuing me, I may have to start calling you my ‘guardian angel’.”

  Oh, hell, no. He stepped away and strode to the window. The last thing he wanted to be compared to was a damn angel. He stared into the night, searching for any sign of fae. The street remained blessedly deserted.

  Hannah placed her hand on his shoulder. “Did I say something wrong?”

  He turned to face her. She reminded him so much of Emily. Dear, sweet Emily who had seen the good in others and had believed people could change given the chance. How wrong she’d been. If only he’d saved her.

  He sighed. “We need to talk about Finn. Tell me what happened before I arrived.”

  Hannah sighed and sat on the couch. Her blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, the tips resting along the collar of her blouse. With each breath she took, her chest rose and fell, accentuating her full breasts.

  The need to tug her into his arms and finish the job flushed through his veins. Blood headed south. That damn kiss had affected him more than he’d realized.

  He strode to the side table to adjust his pants and studied George. The fish hid among the plastic fronds. At least George knew a monster when he saw one.

  Hannah sighed. “Finn said he wanted to talk to me. When I asked him to come in, he bared his fangs and rushed toward me. That’s when you tackled him.”

  “The wards protected you. He couldn’t step onto the property until you invited him in.” Seth turned to face her. “Finn targeted you. We have to figure out why.”

  Hannah wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “I’m a nineteen-year-old college student studying business. Why does he want me?”

  Like a snake slithering through the grass, a sense of unease trickled up Seth’s spine. “I wonder if this has anything to do with Marco and your kidnapping last summer.”

  “That was nine months ago. Why now?” Hannah grabbed a People magazine off the coffee table and fanned her flushed cheeks.

  “That’s what we need to figure out.” Seth wracked his brain. If Finn worked with Marco, why would the fae wait until now? Was it more than a coincidence that Marco had been in the park last night? Maybe Hannah wasn’t just a random target, but what did Hannah have that interested Marco?

  A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Hannah’s face, followed by another. She wiped them away and leaned her head against the couch’s back. “I don’t feel so good.”

  Seth raced to Hannah’s side and placed the back of his hand against her cheek. Her hot skin burned with fever. Unease spiked in his veins. “I don’t like the looks of this. Did this just come on?”

  Hannah shook her head then moaned, as if the movement hurt. “No. I’ve felt sick off and on since yesterday, but I haven’t thrown up or anything. Just a headache, chills, and some nausea.”

  How had he not noticed Hannah’s illness? He’d been caught up in his own world, that’s how. Damn, he’d even kissed her, taking advantage of her weakened state.

  He clenched his jaw. Selfish bastard. “With Finn showing up here, this is too much of a coincidence. Let me take you to Wynne, have the witch check you out. Would that be all right?”

  Hannah sat up and stared at him. “This is probably just the flu—”

  Seth gripped her hand and squeezed. “Please, darlin’. I’ll be fit to be tied if you don’t let me take you there.”

  Hannah’s eyes flitted back and forth as she studied him.

  He held his breath. Somewhere deep inside, her answer meant more to him than he cared to admit.

  After a long moment, she nodded. “Okay.”

  Seth exhaled, and the tension in his shoulders eased. “Thank you.”

  He rose to his feet and grabbed his
hat off the coffee table. Before Hannah had a chance to change her mind, he dematerialized, taking her right along with him. Something about her sudden illness nagged at him, and he wouldn’t rest until Wynne checked her out. The thought of losing Hannah seized him like a hangman’s noose around his neck.

  CHAPTER 8

  Hannah’s molecules reformed into her physical body, leaving her breathless. She swayed and almost fell against Wynne’s door.

  “I got ’cha.” Seth wrapped his arms around her waist.

  She leaned into him, soaking up his strength.

  Good God, his powerful kiss had turned her into a wet noodle. She’d forgotten all about the aches and pains and even her headache, but now, the pounding behind her eyes returned full force. Her skin burned so hot, she must have the flu. What else could it be?

  Seth knocked on Wynne’s door. “Hurry, Wynne.”

  A car drove by, its engine rumbling into the night.

  Hannah closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Seth’s chest. His musky, masculine scent, and the steady beat of his heart, calmed her racing mind.

  She wanted him to be the right one, someone she could love and be loved by in return, but he seemed determined to convince her otherwise. Yet, the way he’d kissed her made her doubt whether he really wanted to push her away. Her mind spun from both dizziness and confusion.

  The door opened on a soft whoosh.

  “Seth? Hannah?” Worry etched Wynne’s voice.

  “Hannah’s sick. I don’t think it’s the flu. We ran into Marco last night. He may have something to do with this. Can we come in?” Seth’s words rumbled in his chest.

  The vibration tingled Hannah’s cheek. She wanted to burrow further into his embrace, but he urged her forward, so she opened her eyes and stepped over the threshold.

  Patchouli incense filtered into Hannah’s senses. Her stomach churned, and a frustrated moan eased past her lips. “I feel ill.”

  “You need the bathroom?” Wynne pointed down the hallway.

  Hannah shook her head. “I’m nauseated, but I haven’t thrown up.”

  “That worries me,” Seth muttered.

  Wynne’s brow furrowed. “Let me evaluate her in the living room. Come.”

  Hannah followed her friend, and Seth was right on her heels. He hovered so close, his warm, spicy scent seemed to envelop her in its embrace. She longed for him to touch her again, but he kept a small bit of space between them.

  Wynne strode through a doorway into the largest room in the house. When Hannah had visited Wynne, they’d spent most of their time in this room playing games, watching Netflix, and eating. Her stomach lurched and complained. No food would pass Hannah’s lips today, though.

  Wynne gripped Hannah’s elbow and helped her settle into the couch. The soft cushions brushed against the bare skin on her arms, making them burn. “I’m not that sick. You don’t need to do this. I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t share your confidence.” A tic flared in Seth’s tight jaw.

  Wynne placed her palm against Hannah’s forehead. Hannah had always envied Wynne’s blonde hair and beautiful porcelain skin.

  The witch removed her hand and frowned. “You’re hot. Way too hot for a normal human temperature. I’d guess around one hundred and six or so.”

  “How is that possible?” Hannah’s heartbeat raced, pumping so hard spots formed in her vision. “Am…am I dying?”

  Seth knelt next to her. He reached toward her face, but a flash of something she couldn’t quite identify, regret maybe, flickered over his features, and he withdrew and placed his hand on the couch cushions.

  “You’re not dying, not on my watch. Wynne will help you. In my book, she’s the best witch in all of Chicago. You couldn’t be in better hands.”

  An encouraging smile broke across his handsome features, chasing away some of her anxiety. God, at that moment, he looked like an angel, a scorching, sexy one. She did what he wouldn’t and stroked her fingertips down his cheek.

  “Let me in, cowboy, so I can have a look at her.” Wynne placed a tray with an assortment of bottles and a white cloth onto the coffee table.

  Seth grasped Hannah’s hand and tugged her fingers away. “I’ll be right here, darlin’.”

  He rose to his feet and stepped aside, but lingered nearby, clutching his hat.

  “Tell me your symptoms.” Wynne settled onto the couch.

  Hannah sighed. “You two don’t need to do—”

  “Hannah.” Wynne’s stern voice echoed around the room. “Just tell me.”

  Hannah’s stomach churned, and she swallowed several times. “All right. I’ve had chills, nausea, and headaches off and on since yesterday.”

  The beautiful witch picked up a small green vial and uncorked the lid. She tipped the bottle, and a small drop of yellow liquid landed onto the white cloth in her palm. “I’m going to wipe this on your skin. If you’ve been cursed, it will change color.”

  “You think Marco cursed me?” Hannah glanced from Wynne to Seth and back again.

  Wynne nodded. “You have the classic symptoms.”

  Seth glanced at Hannah. “I don’t think it was a coincidence Marco was in the quad last night when that fae attacked you.”

  Hannah’s heartbeat picked up speed once again. “You think he’s after me.”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out.” Seth tightened his mouth.

  “This will feel cool.” Wynne wiped the cloth over the back of Hannah’s hand.

  A cold blast raised the hairs all the way up her arm.

  Wynne withdrew the material and peered at the linen. The yellow spot remained unchanged.

  Hannah slumped against the couch cushions. “See, it’s just some weird strain of the flu.”

  “I want to try something else.” Wynne grasped a tiny round container and unscrewed the cap. She held the glass to her lips and blew.

  Green crystals burst into the air, surrounding Hannah in a light mist. Her skin tingled, and a prickle rippled down her spine.

  Wynne focused on the back of Hannah’s neck at her hairline. She brushed the hair away from Hannah’s ear. A soft gasp escaped her lips. “Seth, look at this.”

  Hannah sat forward and raked her finger behind her ear. The smooth skin seemed normal. “What do you see?”

  Seth placed his hat on the coffee table and settled onto the couch. The cushions sunk under his massive weight.

  His gaze riveted on Hannah’s neck then flitted to her eyes. “A small mark behind your ear, the swirls twirling around in a circle. The brand of a fae.”

  “I need to see it.” She tried to stand, but Seth eased her back into the cushions.

  “Here, Hannah.” Wynne snagged her purse from the floor next to the sideboard table, rummaged through it, and withdrew a compact. She handed the round object to Hannah.

  Hannah opened the small container and caught her reflection in the mirror. With dark circles under her eyes and a strained look around her mouth, she appeared to have aged five years in the past two days.

  She adjusted the mirror to see behind her ear. A dark swirl, like a tattoo, was visible at her hairline.

  “It’s Marco’s brand, isn’t it?” Hannah covered her mouth to hold back her scream.

  Wynne took the compact, closed it, and touched her arm. “That would be my guess. You mentioned you saw Marco last night. Was that the first time since the event?”

  The event…when Gabriel had kidnapped her to lure in Sadie. Hannah nodded. “Yeah. I hadn’t seen Gabriel or Marco since then.”

  Seth rose to his feet and paced to the fireplace. He trailed his fingertips over the braided cord at his wrist then raked his fingers through his hair. “What triggered him?”

  “I wish I knew.” Wynne’s gaze narrowed. “The night you met Marco, after he forced you to take a drop of his saliva, did anything else happen?”

  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. A memory surfaced, along with a tightening in her stomach. She removed he
r hand and glanced between Seth and Wynne. “He whispered something in my ear, but I don’t remember what it was.”

  Seth peered at her over his shoulder. Intensity radiated from his gaze, and the muscles in his back and arms strained against his brown leather coat, pulling the material taut. He looked absolutely formidable. Thank God, he was on her side.

  Wynne selected a pair of long, pointed needles from the tray and held them up to the light. Her brow furrowed as she studied the ends.

  “Um, those look pretty sharp. You’re not going to poke me with those, are you?” Hannah’s voice squeaked on the last word.

  The witch smiled and placed the needles in her palm. “This won’t hurt. I promise. I want to hear what Marco said to you. Is that okay?”

  Hannah bit her lip. “I’m not sure I want to know, but okay.”

  “Moyo con tika. Soto a tien.” Wynne’s soft voice filled the room.

  The twin needles rose from Wynne’s palm and floated through the air, right toward Hannah. She gasped. The pointed tips hovered near her ears.

  “Moyo con tika. Soto a tien.” The witch repeated the chant.

  “You’re doing great, darlin’.” Seth’s encouraging words calmed Hannah’s restless nerves.

  “Moyo con tika. Soto a tien.”

  A brilliant flash of light emanated from the needles. As if pulled from behind a curtain, a memory resurfaced. Hannah strapped to a chair. Marco leaning over her, forcing her mouth open. His long tongue. The drop of saliva that dripped from the tip then slid down her throat.

  “Your pure, innocent soul will be mine. I can hardly wait.” Said in a voice much too deep to be her own, Marco’s whispered words burst from her lips.

  Wynne inhaled, and her features blanched.

  “Damn.” Seth cursed under his breath as he paced in front of the fireplace. His heavy footsteps vibrated through the floorboards.

  Chills rippled down Hannah’s arms. “What do those words mean?”

  Wynne plucked the needles from the air and placed them on the tray. She intertwined her fingers with Hannah’s. “Marco targeted you. Under the right circumstances, pristine, unblemished souls can enhance the power of the fae who ingests it.”