Chapter 18 #3
Tucking her hands behind her head, she stared up at the ceiling.
It was something she and her father had often done over the years—had lain on their backs and looked up at the sky, feeling the wind move over them as it whispered softly.
Eddie Gibson never doubted that Lindsay heard voices in the air, even though he couldn’t hear them himself.
She was so grateful to him for that unconditional love.
It enabled her to love others who were extraordinary, like Adrian.
“Thank you, by the way,” she said, “for looking out for my dad. I know you need every hand right now, but I won’t talk you out of watching his back. He’s my rock. I couldn’t get by without him.”
“You’re welcome.”
She rubbed absently at the ache of homesickness in her chest. “You’re being quiet. A penny for your thoughts.”
“I’m thinking about the questions you brought up earlier.” He glanced at her. “You’re quiet, too. What are you thinking about?”
“My dad, which led me to think about the lycans guarding him. I’m trying to wrap my mind around you enforcing this you-work-for-me-or-die rule.
I can’t see it in you. Commander of military forces, yes.
An employer, yes. Even an angel—no problem.
But someone who forces people to do things against their will under threat of death? No.”
He exhaled audibly. Although his facial expression didn’t change, she sensed disquiet in him.
“Are they slaves?” She looked at him again. “Adrian?”
He’d paused with his hands in his duffel bag, frowning. “I’ve always used the word ‘indentured.’”
“That’s a form of servitude.”
“I don’t abuse them. I make every attempt to see to their comfort. I try, in all ways, to be fair to them.”
“But they can’t quit? Or leave?”
His chest lifted and fell on a deep breath. “No.”
“Yeah… I see a problem there.”
“But neither can the Sentinels. Or the vampires. We’re all trapped in our roles, which were established eons ago. This push and pull between us—it’s bigger than all of us. The brutal fact of the matter is, if the lycans don’t help me keep things together, there won’t be a world to be free in.”
Lindsay pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I understand what you’re saying. But I still don’t like it.”
“You think I do?”
“No, I don’t think you do. I don’t think you have it in you to like it, which is why I wonder how you’ve done it for so long.”
“I’m a soldier, Linds. I’m given orders, and I follow them. It’s all I can do.”
There was something in the softness of his tone that made him seem so alone. As alone as she’d often felt over the years. She held her hand out to him.“I’d like for you to tell me what happened over the last week.”
He crossed the room to her. Not here, he mouthed, catching her fingers with his own. He pulled her up, then tugged her out onto the wraparound deck.
Stepping into his arms, she said, “Wait a minute before you take off.”
“Are you still scared?”
“Not right now, but I will be in a minute.” She smiled, knowing there was nowhere else she’d rather be than with Adrian.
All the restlessness that had been vibrating within her for the past week—and most of her life before that—was gone, replaced by a languidness that came from more than great sex.
It came from him alone. He centered her.
“I just love the way your body feels against mine when you’re exerting yourself.
And since this is pretty much the only guilt-free way to have you doing that, I want to make sure I enjoy every minute. ”
His hands slid to her hips and urged her against him. “Anytime you want me to exert myself against you, just ask.”
Lindsay wrapped herself around him from shoulder to ankle. “You know I can’t do that.”
He looked down at her with eyes that were hot with desire and soft with affection. “Yes. I know, neshama. Ready?”
She nodded.
His wings snapped open, and he leaped over the low railing. They caught air and soared over the darkened hills with the wind singing softly. In the near distance, the lights of the city twinkled like a blanket of multicolored stars.
The flight was over too quickly. Adrian landed a few miles away, directly in front of a metal-sided building that sat unlit on a barren plateau.
“Where are we?” she asked breathlessly, her heartbeat still wild from exhilaration.
“One of the training camps. If you like, you’ll be enduring it tomorrow.”
He opened the door and the fluorescent lights flickered on automatically, revealing a large warehouse-type room with a half dozen bunk beds, two sofas, and walls covered in every weapon she knew of, as well as several she’d never seen. It was like a giant man-cave great room, homicidal-style.
“Why,” she queried, “do lycans and Sentinels, who have such awesome natural defense mechanisms, need any of these things?”
“Because the vamps use them. We need to know how to fend off attacks made with these weapons and to improvise, if any of them should fall into our hands.”
Admiring a blade that looked somewhat like a scythe, Lindsay looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m worried about how the other Sentinels will deal with me training alongside them.”
Adrian stood nearby, watching her with heated pride. “Let me worry about them.”
“I don’t want to cause problems for you, Adrian. And that’s all I’m doing. I hate that.”
“I woke this morning praying for the end to come quickly. Now I have you, and the end is the last thing I want.”
Lindsay couldn’t stop the tear that ran down her cheek.
She could be strong about a lot of things, but Adrian’s tenderness had been devastating her from the beginning.
He made her feel as if she was precious to him.
It killed her that he would try to give her all of himself, but she would still have only a portion.
There was nothing she could do about that except offer him what comfort she could, and refrain from asking for anything in return. “Talk to me. Tell me why you were ready to give up.”
His wings flexed restlessly. The pearlescent backdrop showcased his dark beauty to breathtaking effect.
After her mother had died, she’d been so angry.
She had railed at the entity other people believed in, the God others claimed was so generous and loving.
She’d found little in life to redeem her lost faith in a benevolent higher power, but Adrian’s existence softened that skepticism.
If the same being who’d allowed her mother to be brutally murdered was also responsible for creating Adrian, then there was something magical and praiseworthy in the world, even if none of it was ever shared willingly with her.
“The Sentinel I lost was a friend,” he said softly, inadvertently wounding her with his pain. “But more than that, she was a pristine example of what a seraph should be. She was pure of spirit and purpose, focused solely on our mission.”
She moved toward him, reaching for his hand and clasping it in her own. So much death. He’d dealt with too much of it. “Another vamp attack?”
“That would have been kinder than the reality.”
She stepped closer and he embraced her, settling his chin atop the crown of her head.
Her connection to him in that moment rocked her.
In a remote hillside warehouse, surrounded by implements of destruction and the arms of an angel, she felt at peace in a way she never had before.
“You said you’d have to hurt someone you cared about. ”
“She fell in love,” he murmured. “With a lycan.”
“That’s bad?”
“It’s impossible.”
“Why? Lycans aren’t mortals.”
He barked a humorless, bitter laugh. “Helena said the same thing, but seraphim aren’t designed to experience mortal love.
We’re not supposed to have mates. She wanted my blessing.
She hoped I would give it to her, because I have you.
But it’s not my place to make that decision.
It’s my responsibility to keep the Sentinels on the right path. ”
Lindsay felt the progress she’d recently made in regard to having some faith backslide again. How could love, in any form, be wrong? “What did she do?”
As he explained the actions Helena had taken, Lindsay’s blood chilled and goose bumps spread across her skin.
She relived the horror and agony of that night with him, her shoulders sagging under the growing weight of his despair.
There was no greater proof of the impossibility of loving Adrian than the suicide of Helena and her beloved lycan.
“Jesus,” she whispered when he was done. “I can’t imagine.”
“I can.” His chest expanded with a deep inhalation. “I have.”
Her heart stopped, then lurched into a double-time rhythm. She pulled back and glared up at him.
“I swear to you—” Her voice cracked, forcing her to clear her throat before continuing. “If you ever try something like that, I’ll make you regret it.”
His lips pressed to her forehead. “You worry too much about me.”
“I’m serious.” Her fingers dug into his waist. “Whatever consequences we face for being together…it’s out of our hands. We don’t need to borrow trouble on top of that.”
“And we won’t.” For a moment, he looked so resolute and somber, giving her the impression there was something more he needed to say. Instead, he said, “We should head back. You have an early day tomorrow, and I have to look into how Elijah’s blood ended up in Louisiana.”
“Do you have any guesses?”
“We take and store blood from each lycan for identification and genetic purposes. If any of Elijah’s stored blood is missing, I have a traitor in my ranks.
The alternative would be that someone collected his blood from a hunt at some point in the past and saved it, which would speak to lengthy premeditation.
There’s really no good way to look at this.
Someone out there has an ulterior motive that can only cause me a lot of trouble. ”
His thumb brushed over her cheekbone. “I know how you feel about the lycans, neshama, and I don’t disagree. But there’s simply no way one hundred and sixty-one Sentinels can contain the thousands of vampires in the world without their help.”
“Let me help you, brainstorm with you. I want to support you…”
“Yes. I look forward to it.” He urged her toward the door. “But first, you need to get some sleep.”
“That won’t be a problem.” She preceded him out of the building. “I haven’t slept well since Vegas, and it’s been a long day.”
His mouth lifted in a half smile that charmed her. “Your definition of a long day may change after training tomorrow.”
Lindsay looked at him through the lock of hair the evening wind blew across her cheek. “You can’t scare me.”
He turned off the lights and stepped outside with her. The wind kissed him, too, whispering across his wings. “You’re fearless. That’s one of the many reasons I want you.”
A quiver of sexual awareness moved through her, heating her blood.
When they got back to the house, she didn’t go inside, knowing it was best not to confront temptation directly. “I’m going to head back to the hotel. Is my stuff still out front?”
Adrian paused on the threshold of the sliding glass door leading back into his bedroom. “I want you to stay.”
“That’s not a good idea. Besides,” she rushed on, when his eyes took on the glitter of determination, “I need to give two weeks’ notice, and the sooner I do that, the better.”
He weighed that a moment. “Once you quit, you’ll stay here.”
“Adrian—”
He took a step toward her.
She knew what would happen if he touched her. “Can we talk about it later? I’m beat.”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Tomorrow. Leave your suitcase here.”
“I have—”
“—no idea what it did to me to see you putting that in your car.” Catching her hand, he stroked his thumb over the back of it. “Leave it here.”
“Fine.” She squeezed his fingers, a faint echo of the constriction around her heart.
She couldn’t say the words, but she could show him.
That would have to be enough for both of them.