It was his duty to protect her. Tonight, that duty could extend to guarding her a little more closely than usual. Once she had settled and was comfortable with the idea of being alone again, he would take his leave.
He nodded when her attention returned to him.
Amelia led the way into the apartment, leaving him to muse what he had done tonight and his duty.
She deserved better.
A better life.
That was the reason he was here—to keep her safe and watch over her. To protect her from the creeps and from something else.
To give her that better life.
He was sure of it.
Marcus followed her towards the kitchen, noting that the layout of her apartment differed slightly to his as he passed through the pale square lounge. There were no windows in it, just like his one, because the bedroom and bathroom lined the exterior wall opposite him. Their positions in the apartment were reversed in his. He stared through the open door of the room to the right. Her bedroom was next to his and the head of her bed rested against his wall. She slept so close to him, yet he couldn’t feel her when he was in bed, couldn’t sense her on the other side. At such proximity, he should have been able to even when her signature was dulled by her sleeping. His gaze fell to rest on the long cream couch angled towards the television set to his right in the corner of the lounge. A pillow occupied one arm of the sofa and a scrunched up dark blue blanket sat at the other end.
Did she sleep on the couch?
He looked through into the bedroom again, frowning at the smooth covers on the double bed.
Was that why he couldn’t feel her when he was in his bedroom?
Back when he had been watching over her from Heaven, she had always slept in her bed. Had something happened recently to change that? If it had, it must have occurred in the past month when he had been in the mortal realm. When he was here, he couldn’t watch over her as he had in Heaven, able to view her through buildings using the power granted to the angels of his division. He had to physically see her.
Amelia came back out of the room to his left. He dragged his gaze away from the bedroom and the bathroom next to it, and finished crossing the room to the open double doors that led into the kitchen. Her small kitchen was brighter than his, the cupboards a pale type of wood, with stainless steel appliances.
Some former owner of his apartment had deemed it stylish to have a dark kitchen. Marcus deemed it impractical. It was a nightmare to keep clean so he had given up feeding himself shortly after moving in and had resorted to eating take away food, instant meals or eating out.
Marcus leaned against the kitchen counter, his hand throbbing. It had been a while since he had felt physical pain. He couldn’t remember the last time it had hurt to punch something.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had fought someone.
Amelia placed a red and white chequered tea-towel down on the side and emptied out several trays of ice cubes into it. She gathered the ends and twisted the bulk of the cloth around to keep the ice in, and then came over to him. He started when she took hold of his hand, gently slipping her fingers under it so they brushed his palm, and raised it. Heat travelled up his arm and it had nothing to do with pain this time.
She rested the ice pack on his knuckles and he didn’t feel the cold at all. He stared at their joined hands, urgently trying to decipher how she had warmed him with only a light touch and alarmed by the hard beat of his heart against his chest. She looked up into his eyes, her grey ones full of warmth again, softening her delicate features and holding his attention.
“Thank you.” She glanced away again, her gaze briefly dropping to their hands and the ice pack, and then met his eyes. His pain faded in an instant, driven away by the heat of her touch and her concerned expression, and he marvelled at the effect she had on him. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She was his duty and that was all she could ever be. Once he had fulfilled his mission, he would finally request his transfer and would never see her again. Her thumb brushed his and fire shimmered over his skin. “I really am sorry that he woke you and that you had to hit him.”
“I said it was nothing.” Marcus hadn’t needed to hit the man. He could have compelled him to stop but he had reacted on instinct, and for some reason that instinct had been to punch him. He could think of a million situations with mortals when he had been in danger and had compelled them. Why not this time?
Had Amelia’s presence as a witness deterred him?
Or was she the reason he had struck the man?
He had been consumed by anger, enraged by what the man had said about himself and Amelia, driven to violence by a handful of words.
He was Amelia’s protector. Her guardian.
He was not her lover.
Her fingertips grazed his palm as she removed the ice pack and inspected his left hand. A shiver tripped up his arm and down his spine, and his shoulder blades itched. He took his hand away from her and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension building there.
His wings wanted out.
“How are they feeling?”
Marcus’s head snapped up, his eyes immediately locking on Amelia. His wings? She nodded towards his knuckles and relief swept through him.
“Fine,” he said absently and breathed slowly to steady his racing heart.
There was no way she could know about his wings but, for a moment, it had felt as though she had been reading his mind. It had been a while since his wings had wanted to come out. After five centuries of living with them sealed away, he had grown used to them not being there. It had been strange becoming accustomed to them again when the binding curse had started to lose effect over thirty years ago. Most of the time, he was content to physically put them away as he was now. It took concentration to maintain their disappearance but it used less energy than hiding them from human eyes with a glamour, and it was far easier to move around in the mortal realm without worrying about accidentally knocking things over with them.
“Are you alright?” Amelia ducked towards him, interrupting his view of his knuckles and replacing it with an altogether more pleasant one of her face and her cleavage.
Marcus stared at her plump full breasts, his pulse picking up again, and then averted his eyes. Women had no shame. It was little wonder his master had decided that they should not serve him. They were wily, manipulative, a distraction, and considered by most as the source of all sin.
“Fine,” Marcus repeated and took the ice pack from her, ramming it onto the back of his hand when all he wanted to do was stick it down his jogging bottoms to bring his libido under control.
His fellow warriors had warned him about women, especially ones as beautiful as Amelia, and he wholeheartedly believed every word that they said. Women were dangerous. He would not falter though. Amelia was his mission and his allegiance was to his master, his loyalty to his duty, and nothing would change that.
Once this irksome mission had ended, he would return to Heaven and request his transferral as originally planned, and would join the ranks of the soldiers who protected the realm of Heaven from intruders and wars. He would defend that which he believed in. Not this mortal world, but his world.
He had never physically guarded a human before but was certain that his assignment to act as her next door neighbour was a sign that his mission was progressing and soon he would be free of it.
He couldn’t wait to return home.
“How are you feeling?” Marcus took the ice pack away from his hand and set it down in the stainless steel sink beside him.
Amelia shrugged. “Better, I guess.”
She didn’t look better. The weary edge was back in her eyes, draining them of warmth, and he found himself desiring to comfort her.
“He won’t come back.” His words had the desired effect and she brightened for a brief moment and then it faded again.
“You don’t know that.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I do pick them.”
Marcus turned and ran his hand under the cold water, letting it wash away the trace of blood on his knuckles. When he reached for the tap to shut it off again, he felt Amelia’s eyes on his bare back, boring into his shoulders, and lingered a moment. Would she mention the marks he had revealed by carelessly turning his back on her?
“It won’t be long before I drive you away too.”
Those words, softly spoken, caused him to look over his shoulder at her, a frown drawing his dark eyebrows tightly together. She dropped her gaze and then met his with resolution that didn’t surprise him. This was the Amelia he had come to know these past three decades. Strong, able to face anything head on, unflinching.
“What makes you say that?” Marcus turned back to face her, aware now that he was bare from the waist up and was probably only encouraging any attraction she might feel towards him. He should have put on a t-shirt before leaving his apartment but he’d had one thing on his mind—getting the irritating bastard in the hallway to shut up so he could sleep.
Or was it purely so he could sleep?
He stared at Amelia, taking in the way her cheeks coloured as he did so and how she couldn’t hold his gaze.
He had thought only of protecting her.
Defending her.
“The last bloke who lived alone next door to me left only a couple of months after moving in.”
Marcus knew for a fact that the man had been forcibly evicted due to a minor error in payments caused by Heaven’s intervention but had later won money on the lottery that had allowed him to place a down payment on the house of his dreams. The young man had been the easiest target to remove in order to place Marcus close to Amelia. The old lady who lived in the apartment on the other side of Amelia was frail and had lived in the building for over twenty years and relied on those around her to assist her. She also slept heavily, meaning that Amelia’s ex-boyfriends didn’t wake her when they came to knock down her door. Marcus would have had a contender in the guardian stakes if the young man had remained living next to her and they had moved the old lady.
“You do live alone, don’t you?” There was a tremble to that question.
Marcus nodded without thinking and then considered the implications of his answer when Amelia’s grey eyes warmed again. A loaded question. She had cleverly used it to discern his availability.
He briefly considered making up a girlfriend in order to obliterate any attraction she might feel towards him so he could continue his mission in peace but couldn’t get the words out when he looked into her eyes again.
The space between them shrank until it felt as though she was barely inches from him. Her soft breathing filled his ears, drawing his attention down to the sensual bow of her dusky pink lips. The tip of her tongue swept across them, leaving moisture in its wake, luring him in.
How long had it been since he had kissed a woman?
Not in this lifetime, that was for sure.
Marcus dragged his eyes away from her, shutting down his emotions at the same time. Amelia was a mission. He couldn’t allow things to become complicated. Not when he wasn’t even sure why he had to protect her.
He couldn’t get involved with her.
He had to maintain his distance.
No matter how impossible that seemed now.
No matter how much he wanted her.
CHAPTER 2
The moment Marcus set foot back in his apartment and closed the door, a bright shaft of light encased him. His wings swiftly emerged, silver-blue feathers warming as the light touched them, and his sweat pants disappeared, replaced by his dark blue loincloth. His armour appeared next. Dark leather boots slowly materialised on his feet, followed by rich blue metal vambraces that covered his forearms and greaves that encased his lower legs. His blue back plate and breastplate melted into existence, protecting his upper torso, moulded into muscles to mimic his body. The raised silver edging on his armour shone brilliantly, reflecting the blinding white light.
When the light faded, an equally bright room surrounded him. Marcus straightened, flapped his wings to bring his feathers into line and then furled them against his back. He noted with annoyance that neither of his weapons had appeared at his hips. It seemed Heaven didn’t want him armed for this meeting.
He walked forwards and the brightness dimmed, revealing what most mortals would consider a waiting room. The pale furniture melted into the white walls and floors, making it difficult to distinguish them, and for once the room was empty. He couldn’t remember the last time he had reported to Heaven’s Court and it had been like this. Normally his fellow guardians were here on some business or another, escorting detainees or sinners, or reporting on missions themselves.
Putting it down to the late hour, he strode towards the white double doors at the opposite end of the room, passing the empty reception desk and armchairs.
He pushed the heavy doors open, revealing the equally white room beyond.
It appeared much like a human court, only everything was white. The benches where those awaiting their hearing would sit, the barrier between them and the area where the judges and jurors sat, and the dock were all so bright that they blended together and made him wonder for what must have been at least the six hundredth time why everything was so irritatingly pale in Heaven.
He looked down at his blue armour.
At least that had colour to it.
The weight of it felt good against him and he ached to beat his wings and feel the wind cut through his feathers. He was so focused on himself that he failed to notice that he wasn’t alone until someone spoke.
“Report, Marcus.”
Marcus jerked his head up, eyes fixing on his superior, a man with short sandy locks and dark eyes that rarely held any trace of emotion. They were cold now, devoid of feeling as he stared at Marcus with a critical air about him. Marcus calmly walked towards him, opened the white gate, and stepped into the dock directly on the other side.
There were no lawyers in Heaven. Each sinner, detainee or reporter had to stand for themselves. It was even rare to have a jury. Ninety percent of cases were decided by three judges.
His sat before him on a raised platform encased by an elaborate curved white wall that bore a beautiful carving of angels in battle and hid their bodies from their chests downwards.
The two men nearer the back, flanking his superior, were there to oversee his report and to ensure that everything followed the rules of their kind. They were angels from a different division to Marcus and his superior. The dark haired man to his superior’s left wore white armour edged with gold and had pure white wings, the sign of a mediator and intervention specialist, and the white-blond haired man to his right wore black armour edged with gold and had raven-black wings, the sign of those affiliated with death. Marcus’s own armour and wing colour signified him as a guardian, one of the angels who were responsible for shepherding souls through Heaven for judgement and then leading them to their respective resting place in Heaven or escorting them to Hell. There were watchers who wore armour like his too, and even a faction of the army. He bit his tongue as desire to mention his request to join that army welled up inside him and saluted his superior instead, bowing his head in greeting.
“Am I to be punished?” Marcus said without a trace of fear in his voice.
He wasn’t sure what punishment for striking an innocent would entail, but it couldn’t be any worse than what he had already suffered because of his sins.
“That is yet to be determined. We are gathered here to review your actions tonight. We withheld punishment in order to see if your actions engendered a positive emotional response that may forge a stronger connection between yourself and the mortal.”
Marcus frowned. “And why is there need for a connection?”
His superior didn’t hesitate. “So that she might trust you.”
Marcus leaned forwards, looking right into his superior’s dark eyes, eager to spot some truth in them, some answers to the thousand questions he ha
d asked in the past and they had refused to answer.
“And why must she trust me?” Marcus knew he had pushed too far when a dark look crossed all three men’s faces.
“Enough questions, Marcus. Report.”
He ground his teeth. Always the same response whenever he pushed them to elaborate on his mission. He hated being left in the dark about everything almost as much as he despised having to live in the mortal realm.
“There was a problem with an ex-lover of the female’s. He was causing her fear and emotional harm. He was also causing me to lose sleep. I took it upon myself to forcibly remove him from the premises and deter him from attempting a repeat performance.”
“So you might gain more sleep?” His superior didn’t look impressed and neither did the two angels flanking him.
“No, so that the female may not come to physical harm.”
“You had reason to believe that this male might act in violence towards her?”
“She was afraid. I have watched her for thirty one years. Never once have I witnessed her this afraid. Seeing that the man was bent on violence, I took it upon myself to ensure that he would leave her alone.”
“Did the man say anything in his defence?”
Marcus frowned. Had he? He had accused Amelia of a lot of things, all of them false. Nothing the man had said had held any credit.
“No. He was intent on harming her and laying false accusations at her door.”
“So you struck him?”
“No!” Marcus leaned forwards. “It didn’t happen like that. He turned his foul derision in my direction and attempted to hit me.”
“Why did he do such a thing?”
His superior and these two angels were already aware of what had occurred tonight so why were they trying to draw it out of him? Were they hoping to embarrass him or cause him to reveal something? If they believed him attracted to her, then he would have to disappoint them.
Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 2