A Touch of Crimson

CHAPTER 7

“You’re going to teach her how to hunt her own family? Her friends?” Jason asked, following Adrian into his office.

“She’s already doing that.” Adrian rounded the desk. “And she’d continue with or without us. This way, I’m giving her a chance to survive.”

Jason whistled. “After all these years, you’re still an angel.”

“Did you doubt it?”

“No. But there are some who wonder if Syre’s daughter makes you… human.”

Not Shadoe herself, but his love for her. Mortal love was not for angels, whose objectivity must be absolute. “Those who have doubts should take them to the Creator. I need the trust of everyone in this unit. If I’ve lost it, I’ve lost my usefulness.”

“You’re well loved, Captain. I can’t think of one Sentinel who wouldn’t consider it an honor to die for you.”

Adrian settled into his chair. “As I consider it an honor to lead you all. It’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly.”

“It’s just hard not to feel restless.” Jason scrubbed a careless hand through his blond hair. “Our job is to babysit the Fallen forever. ‘They shall never obtain peace and remission of sin. They shall petition forever, but shall not obtain mercy.’ Sometimes the punishment seems as much ours as theirs.”

“So be it. We have our orders.”

“And that’s everything to you.”

“As it should be for you. What are we, if not Sentinels?”

Jason hesitated a moment, then smiled sheepishly.

“Right.” Adrian returned the conversation to his immediate concern. “I want Lindsay put into the training rotation as soon as possible.”

“How? She’s as fragile as an eggshell. She may hold her own with other mortals-maybe even a vampire or lycan with the element of surprise-but hand-to-hand with a Sentinel? Very few beings can survive that.”

“We all know our own strength. It’ll be good for us to pay more attention to how we use it.”

“At what cost?”

“She’ll be an asset.” Adrian swiveled his chair around, absently noting the lightening of the sky that signaled the coming dawn. “No one sees her coming. That stealth can be useful to us in a variety of ways.”

“Use her as bait?”

“As a distraction.”

“She’ll definitely be that.”

Adrian addressed the slightly mocking note he heard in his lieutenant’s tone. “Do you have a problem with your orders?”

The smile left Jason’s face. “No, Captain.”

“In the last forty-eight hours, the two highest-ranking Sentinels were attacked. You saw the minion on the helicopter-she was diseased-and Damien mentioned possible illness in his report on Phineas’s attack. I’ve ordered updates from all the Sentinels in the field. I want you to sift through them as they come in and see if there are similar mentions there.”

“What are you thinking?”

“One or more of the Fallen is giving their blood to enable these minions to come after us in daylight. Syre called me about the pilot, so he was aware of her location, but he sounded genuinely surprised by my assertion that I was attacked unprovoked. He suggested that it wasn’t in her nature to make such a move.”

“You know you can’t trust him. He jacked her up with some kind of drug, then called to see how you fared in your run-in with her. How else would he know she was with you?”

“Right. That was my thought from the beginning-that he was playing innocent to dodge the blame. We both know he wouldn’t call me about just any vamp, so his interest alone speaks to his guilt. But when I mentioned the attack on Phineas, he didn’t say a word. I didn’t expect him to take responsibility for it, but the lack of any acknowledgment whatsoever…? No denial, no questions to fake ignorance, nothing? I find that really fucking strange. He can’t trust me any more than I can trust him, so he’d never admit that his control over the Fallen is slipping. Maybe he’s feigning cluelessness about the attacks, but if he’s not and he really has no idea what’s going on, there could be a cabal or even a coven of vampires out there who are setting us up to war with one another. They can’t take Syre down, but they know I can and that I will if he’s gone rogue, which would leave the field wide-open for a coup.”

Jason’s brows rose. “Hoping you’ll do the heavy lifting? Fuckin’ A. It would be poetic justice if we completed our mission because of a vampire revolt.”

Adrian had ceased to think in terms of justice and injustice long ago. “I need to know if Syre is behind these attacks or not. Regardless of his culpability or innocence, we can use the information to weaken his hold on the Fallen. Either he’s deliberately jeopardizing their dreams of redemption or he’s jeopardizing them through neglect. Neither is helping their cause.”

“Their hopeless cause. You want to turn the Fallen against Syre?”

“Why not? As you said, a revolt would benefit us. Especially if he’s making it easy to incite one.”

“I’m on it.” Jason left.

Adrian decided a workout was what he needed to shed his lingering restlessness. Lindsay would wake soon. He needed to have a clear mind to solidify his plans for her before then.

Lindsay stirred from her dreams before she was ready. Part of her mind still clung to sleep, longing for another touch of wickedly knowledgeable hands, another whisper of firm lips across her throat, another brush of silky white and crimson wings…

Her eyes opened on a soundless gasp, her heart racing and her skin hot. She was painfully aroused, her thoughts filled with flame blue eyes and raw, sexual words spoken in a purring voice of sin.

Scrubbing a hand over her face, she kicked the covers off and stared at the exposed wood beams above her head. Her future had taken a monumental detour when she’d caught Adrian Mitchell’s eye. Her life had been so black and white before-get up, go to work, come home, and in between kill anything that set off alarm bells. Now everything was so complicated.

Lindsay rolled out of bed and crossed the massive bedroom to a private bath that was the size of her old apartment back home. There was a fireplace by the bathtub and a stunning mosaic in a shower that had six showerheads. She’d never even stayed in a hotel as luxurious, yet she felt comfortable and at ease. Despite the opulence, the overall effect was soothing. The soft yellow and blue palette kept the space light and airy, a look she gravitated to because her life could be so dark.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she returned to the bedroom and found her gaze drawn to the unadorned wall of windows facing the west. The view was of rocky hills covered in dry native brush. The vista inspired feelings of remoteness and isolation, but she knew the city wasn’t far away.

She dressed, pulling on a pair of yoga pants and a ribbed tank top.

“Don’t get used to this,” she warned herself, even as she walked toward the windows. As she neared, the huge center pane slid leisurely to one side, opening the way for her to step out onto the wide deck. The morning air was cool and crisp, luring her outside. Clutching the wood railing in a white-knuckled grip, she took a deep breath and absorbed the enormity of her change in circumstance. The sun rose at her back and a soft breeze buffeted her from the front. Below, two more tiers of the house jutted over a steep craggy drop, but she couldn’t look for more than a moment, her fear of heights kicking in with a vengeance.

The rush of anxiety startled her. Not because she was feeling it, but because she realized she hadn’t been feeling it until now. All her life, she’d felt rushed and agitated. The sensation was magnified by proximity to nasty creatures, but it was always thrumming inside her regardless. The expectation that she was waiting for something to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop, had been a part of her existence forever. And now it was gone, leaving behind an unfamiliar but welcome calm. Whatever might happen next, right now-at this moment-she felt grounded and peaceful. To make it even better, she was actually enjoying the serenity.

As she backtracked away from the edge, a large shadow swept across her back and raced along the railing. She glanced up. Sucking in a sharp breath, Lindsay turned completely around.

The sky was filled with angels.

Against the pale pink and gray morning, they dipped and spun in unique, mesmerizing dances. At least a dozen, maybe more, gliding around each other with such grace and skill. Their wingspans were enormous, their bodies so sleek and poised. They were too powerful and athletic… too lethal to inspire piousness, but they stirred reverence nevertheless.

She moved around the corner of the house, discovering that the deck widened extensively at the rear, forming a landing area of sorts. Awestruck and faintly afraid, she remembered to breathe only when her lungs burned. She’d thought she was in over her head with Adrian when he was just a man. Now-

He stood out even among angels. His pearlescent wings glimmered in the rising sun, the crimson tips streaking across the horizon as he picked up speed. He shot upward like a bullet, then plummeted straight down, spinning in a blur of blood red and alabaster.

“I think he’s trying to impress you.”

Lindsay dragged her gaze away. She found Damien standing beside her, his hands on his hips and his attention on the aerial acrobatics taking place above them. He was gorgeous: long and sculpted, with his dark brown hair cut short, and sleek, framing eyes nearly as blue as Adrian’s. But unlike Adrian, there was a stillness about him-like an ocean becalmed. His wings were on display, which she suspected was an intimidation tactic. They were gray with white tips, reminding her of a stormy sky. Framing his smooth ivory skin, they created the effect of a classical marble statue brought to life.

“It’s working,” she confessed. “I am impressed. But don’t tell him I said that.”

A surge of air and the flap of great wings preceded Adrian’s landing in front of her. His feet hit the deck almost silently, something she barely registered because he was bare chested and barefoot.

Holy shit.

Wearing only loose black pants and those glorious wings, his luscious body was on full display. Rich olive skin stretched taut over hard, lean muscle. Her hands ached to stroke his beautifully defined biceps and pectorals; her mouth watered with the desire to lick the fine line of hair bisecting his ridged abdomen. As real as her dream had felt, the reality of him was far more devastating. He’d been crafted by a master hand and honed by battle, and she couldn’t stop her mind from translating all that raw masculinity into hot sexual fantasy. The sheer force of his sex appeal was enough to rock her back on her heels and shorten her breath.

“Good morning,” he greeted her, with that low resonance in his voice that damn near curled her toes. “Did you sleep well?”

She dismissed the déjà vu she was feeling as a lack of coffee combined with the remnants of her very erotic dreams. “I was very comfortable. Thank you.”

“I thought you might sleep for another few hours yet.”

“It’s nine o’clock back home. For me, that is sleeping in.”

“Are you hungry?”

Knowing he didn’t eat food himself made his thoughtfulness even more meaningful. “I’d like some coffee, if you have it. And a few moments of your time.”

“Of course.” He shot a speaking glance at a man standing guard, one of the brawny ones. The guy gave a curt nod before entering the house. “Would you like to go inside?” Adrian asked.

“And miss the air show? No way.”

That earned her a slight smile. She was determined to coax a different sort of smile from him-an intimate one like he’d given her in her dream.

As he gestured toward a teakwood table set nearby, his wings dissipated like mist. “Damien.”

The other angel followed, his wings vanishing just as Adrian’s had. Adrian pulled a chair out for her, then rounded the table and sat next to Damien.

Lindsay was situated so that she faced the east, which set the two impossibly gorgeous angels against the backdrop of sunrise. She took a deep breath, knowing she was at a crossroads. “I’ve taken a serious and sudden detour here. I relocated to California for a job. I had plans, including a hotel reservation last night that I didn’t cancel and will have to pay for. I-”

“I’ll take care of that.”

“I don’t want you to take care of it. Just listen.” Her fingertips drummed on the armrests of her chair. “I appreciate the offer you’ve made to train me, and I want to take you up on it. I’d be stupid not to, since I’m self-taught and apparently blind. I can feel what’s not human, but I can’t narrow that down to what I should-and want-to be hunting. That said, I need to be self-sufficient. I need to have my own place, pay my own way, and come and go as I please.”

“I can’t allow you to put yourself in danger.”

“Can’t allow?” Lindsay would’ve laughed, but this was a deadly serious turning point in their association. She was well aware that he was a being not of this world, a man of immense wealth in his mortal guise and even greater power as an angel. But she would not be subservient to anyone. Especially him. If she didn’t set the ground rules now, it would be too late.

The guard returned with a tray bearing a carafe, one mug, cream, and sugar. He set them down in front of Lindsay, then resumed his position nearby. Lindsay wondered why angels would need protection, especially protection provided by individuals who radiated less power. From what she’d gathered from the conversation over dinner, lycans were guarding the angels. There was apparently some kind of organizational structure to this supernatural underground she’d been brutally introduced to as a child. She realized she knew little about the things she’d been hunting, which had made the killing so much easier. She was going to have to put them into context now, possibly humanizing them in the process, while still slaying them.

Not for the first time, Lindsay wished she could go back in time. If she hadn’t begged her mother to take her on that damn picnic, Regina Gibson might still be alive now.

“I’m sitting down with you,” she went on, “in an attempt to discuss this situation reasonably so we can brainstorm ideas to meet the challenges while still giving me some independence. But if you’re going to take a my-way-or-the-highway stance, I’ve got nothing more to say to you aside from good-bye. I don’t want to be a sitting duck out there, but, frankly, I’d rather take my chances under my own free will than to lose my autonomy.”

Damien shot a sidelong glance at Adrian, but Adrian never took his eyes off her. There was a faint lifting to one side of his mouth, as if he was tempted to smile. “Point taken.”

“All right then. Any suggestions?”

He leaned back in his chair, sliding his long legs forward to assume a graceful sprawl. Her attraction to him presented yet another hurdle. She’d been looking forward to exploring their chemistry before she knew what he was. Now…? Well, it was going to be very complicated. She didn’t have long-term relationships-she barely had time for herself-and she’d never had a fling with a man she worked with, to avoid the postbreakup awkwardness. She knew if she was still living with Adrian after their affair was over, she would have to watch him date other women. She’d never lived with a lover before, let alone with a former lover who had a new girlfriend. Just thinking about Adrian looking at another woman the way he looked at her incited a possessiveness that startled her with its intensity, especially considering how short a time she’d known him.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sweetened it, needing her brain cells to hurry up and start firing.

“You do realize,” Adrian began, “that you can’t continue to straddle your two lives? If you want normalcy, I can see that you have it. Raguel Gadara takes the safety of his employees very seriously. I can arrange for you to move into one of his residential properties. Between work and home and the cessation of your killing, you should be fine.”

“I can’t quit. Not until I find who I’m looking for. Maybe not even then. I can’t imagine going through life knowing those things are out there terrorizing others, and me not doing something about it.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Triumph, maybe. “The alternative is for you to stay here, train hard, and focus on hunting.”

“Isn’t there some sort of compromise? Can’t I live off-site, train on the weekends, and call you for backup when something sets off my freak-o-meter?”

“Even if I could afford to reserve one of my men for the purpose of identifying classification for you, we don’t hunt indiscriminately. We police the vampires, but we can’t exterminate them.”

Lindsay’s blood went cold. “Why not?”

“Their punishment is to live with what they are.”

“And we humans are… what? Collateral damage? We have to live-and die-with what they are, too.”

The airborne angels began to land. She watched them with both wonder and fury. These beautiful creatures seemed so magical and powerful, yet they were allowing the parasitic vampires to live.

“We hunt every day,” he said. “We kill every day. Is it such a bad thing that we focus on the ones causing the most damage?”

She looked at him over the rim of her mug. “Fair enough. Maybe I can join you on my days off.”

“Raguel hired you for a reason. What position did he hire you for?”

“Assistant general manager.”

“A big job at a big new property. I’m certain you’re extremely qualified, but I imagine it’s quite a step up for someone your age.”

Lindsay licked coffee from the corner of her mouth. “And he’s paying me too well.”

“Because he expects you to be ambitious, hungry, and willing to put in some long hours.”

She nodded, resigned. The new job alone would take up all her time. That was one of the things that had made the position so appealing-she might actually get to have a regular life, using her livelihood as an excuse for why she wasn’t hunting as much. A cop-out, yes, but she’d convinced herself that she was taking the best option open to her.

As angels alighted all around him, Adrian remained the calm center of activity. But he wasn’t the eye of the storm. He was the storm. He was the dark clouds on the horizon, beautiful from a distance yet capable of great violence.

Lindsay realized she was sitting in the midst of angels, drinking coffee and talking about her new job. Normal, she was not.

“Okay.” She took a fortifying sip. “Wow… All those hours of studying. For what?”

“I can’t believe you would give up your dream so easily,” Damien said, examining her. “Mortals wither without dreams.”

“Hospitality wasn’t her dream,” Adrian explained, sounding so sure. “An ordinary life was, or at the very least, a semblance of one.”

“Is that so wrong?” she asked. She wanted a steady man in her life, the chance to fall in love, hang out with friends, and clock in at a job where she didn’t get coated with ashes. But she also felt guilty for wanting ignorance. What kind of person would rather not know about other people’s suffering just so they could be happy themselves?

“It’s not wrong. Far from it. You’ve never felt comfortable in the mortal world, have you? You’re too beautiful and confident to be a loner, but you never really felt like you fit in.” He looked at her with those knowing eyes, seeing right through her. “There’s no shame in wanting to feel acknowledged for who you are and at ease in your surroundings.”

“I certainly don’t fit in here.” But she couldn’t deny that, deep down, she felt as if she did. And that Adrian was a large part of the reason why. He knew what she did and he accepted her without hesitation. That gave her a sense of fulfillment she’d never had before.

“Don’t you?”

“Not yet.” But she thought she might.

God… What would it be like to work alongside others who fought the same fight she did, to not feel so utterly alone in this vicious, lethal world she’d been initiated into with her mother’s death?

Reaching up, Lindsay rubbed the back of her neck. “This decision should really be much harder to make- for both of us. I’m going to slow you down and be a liability.”

“Agreed,” Damien said.

Adrian lifted one shoulder in an artlessly elegant shrug. “There’s a use for every talent.”

“I need income,” she pointed out. “Regardless of choosing one life over the other, I won’t accept a free ride.”

“Mortals,” Damien drawled, “are so obsessed with material wealth.”

Adrian’s mouth curved in a ghost of a smile. “Every day, I’m sending teams all over the world. The duty of making those flight and hotel reservations falls to whoever is unfortunate enough to be near me in the morning; I can’t assign it to my office staff at Mitchell Aeronautics without rousing suspicions. Today, that individual will be you. Barring complete ineptitude or profound dislike, we’ll keep you busy with that task indefinitely. We can negotiate your salary and rent. I provide cell phones, expense accounts, and transportation to all of the Sentinels. You can choose to maintain your own cellular service, but you’ll be carrying two phones.”

“Sentinels?”

“All the angels you see around us.”

Lindsay’s gaze swept over the wide deck. “How many of you are there?”

“One hundred and sixty-two, as of yesterday.”

“Total?”

He nodded.

A short laugh escaped her. “No wonder you’re willing to put up with me. You need all the help you can get.”

“We have the lycans,” Damien rumbled.

She looked at the guards dotting the perimeter of the deck. The disparity in their physical build compared to the angels helped to distinguish them. The angels were lithe and lean, which probably helped them aerodynamically, while the lycans were thicker and more muscular.

Adrian glanced at Damien. “I want to search the area around where Phineas was attacked, and I think it’s time for me to visit the Navajo Lake pack again.”

Damien nodded and stood. “I’ll send a reconnaissance team ahead to secure the base.”

“No. That would allude to fear and distrust, which isn’t a message I want to send.”

“Send a different message then,” Lindsay suggested. “A real one, letting them know you’re coming.”

Both angels looked at her.

She waved one hand in a careless gesture. “I don’t know what’s going on, so maybe I’m off base, but it sounds like you’re going someplace that poses a risk and you don’t want the people you’re visiting to know you consider it risky. So… let ’em see you coming. Announce it. That shows fearlessness-you’re handing them the opportunity to do whatever it is you’re worried about. But first, run with Damien’s reconnaissance idea, but on the down low. Canvass the area without them knowing. Put some people around to scope the place out before you send the message that you’re coming. Then watch what they do when they get it.”

Damien’s gaze narrowed. “Lycans have a strong sense of smell. They would know they were being watched.”

“So send some lycans you trust to do the job.” When she was met with heavy silence, her brows rose. “You don’t have any lycans you trust? Then why are they your bodyguards? Keeping your enemies close?”

Adrian gestured for Damien to leave with a jerk of his chin.

Lindsay watched the angel depart. “Alrighty then. Teaches me to speak out of turn.”

Unfolding from his chair, Adrian stood. “It’s a sound, intelligent plan. I look forward to utilizing your input today and in the future.”

“Flatterer.” She wondered where he was going and what she was expected to do in his absence. She needed to call her father, then take some time to figure out what she was going to do about her job.

He came around the table. “Would you come with me for a few moments?”

“Yes.”

He pulled the chair out for her, then set his hand at her lower back. The heat of his palm soaked through her thin tank top, perversely sending goose bumps spreading across her skin. He led her to the railing, away from the others. She was highly aware of his shoulder pressing against the back of hers, and of his scent, which was absolutely delicious. If she could, she’d press her nose into the crook of his neck and inhale deep into her lungs. The fragrance of his skin was addictive, intoxicating… Familiar.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, his breath gusting softly over the shell of her ear.

“I don’t know you,” she whispered back, racked by a shiver of delight.

They stopped at the end of the deck.

“Okay then.” There was amusement in his low tone. “Will you give me the benefit of the doubt?”

Lindsay faced him. He stepped closer, into her personal space. Close enough that only an inch separated them, and she had to tilt her head back to look into his face. His wings materialized, shielding them from prying eyes. Her gaze slid over him, drinking in the leanly muscled expanse of his torso. The tight lacing of his abs stirred a deep, raw hunger to see them tighten in pleasure as he thrust into her. Sexual awareness sizzled across her skin, tightening her body. She licked dry lips and his eyes followed the movement. She nodded.

“Good.” He caught her close, one arm banding around her shoulder blades, the other hitching beneath the curve of her ass.

Every hard inch of him was pressed up tight against her. She felt his cock stir against her lower belly, inciting an answering ache between her thighs.

Her arms went around his neck. “Adrian-”

“Hold that thought,” he murmured. “And hold on to me.”

He leaped over the railing.