Angels of Darkness (49 page)

She didn't know everything about him yet, but she believed that. Maybe he would hurt her, someday—but if he
tried
not to, if he made the effort, that mattered more.

But he was already straightening, turning away. Fine. She'd lure him back. She reached for the knot tying the scarves at her hip.

“So, you want to know what happened during the Ascension?” He repeated her question before facing her again. “I almost went with them.”

Radha froze, her fingers suddenly nerveless with shock and disbelief.
“What?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, smiling slightly.

Maybe he could smile about it. He'd had over a decade to get used to the idea that he'd almost chosen to ascend to the afterlife.

“Why?”

“Well, it was the ultimate test, wasn't it? How much faith do I have?” As if amused by the memory of it now, he shook his head, still smiling. “I wasn't even in Caelum that often, and I saw the Ascension coming. A movement, sweeping through the Guardians—half of them believing that just by existing, they were an insult to God. After all, if He takes care of everything, what does He need Guardians for?”

“
If
He even exists,” Radha interrupted. Oh, but she remembered those Guardians. They'd been intolerable. She'd avoided Caelum as much as possible in the year before the Ascension.

The truth was, they just didn't know. Only their leader, Michael, had ever met any angels, when they'd passed on their powers and Caelum to him, along with the responsibility for protecting the Earth. Those powers had enabled him to create the Guardian corps, transforming humans who'd sacrificed themselves. Demons were fallen angels who rebelled against Heaven—but no one she knew had actually seen Heaven. That some power existed was obvious, but the source of it . . . ? Who knew.

Just to piss off some of the more self-righteous Guardians, Radha used to argue that the angels were aliens. She'd almost convinced a few with her illusions, too.

Good riddance to the lot of them.

“We'll debate that later.” Marc grinned briefly, as if recalling their old arguments—or looking forward to another. “You know what I think about it. And you know that there were other Guardians saying that the humans needed more faith. That if their belief was strong enough, they'd have enough faith to defeat the demons on their own, that we were getting in the way. That humans didn't need us.”

“And
you
believed that?”
She
couldn't believe he had.

“No. That was the problem. I'd seen too much, killed too many demons. I knew humans needed us. But I wondered if I
should
believe it—and I wondered if the reason I'd spent the past forty years being so fucking miserable was just because I didn't believe it enough.”

Miserable.
Her throat tightened. “Forty years?”

“After I came to Earth and became that celibate warrior I'd always planned to be. And I did it well, Radha. If I wasn't chasing down a demon then I was searching for another. I never faltered. I never stopped hunting. I never did anything else at all.”

How could that be? “Nothing else
at all
?”

“No. And at first it was all right. I had a purpose, I had a mission. I was happy to be carrying it out.”

But doing nothing else? She couldn't wrap her mind around it. “Not even stopping for a cup of tea. A biscuit.”

“No. I didn't eat or drink.”

“Passing a few minutes on a park bench.” Or half a day, as Radha sometimes did—especially if there were children about. Using her illusions only as weapons would be such a waste. If demons brought despair, she'd bring a little joy. “Chatting with the old men in a café.”

“No.”

What would he be unable to resist? Singing, perhaps. He'd sung often in Caelum, and he had a beautiful voice.

“Watching a musician on the street.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “No.”

“Did
you
sing?”

“No.”

She couldn't imagine. Because everything she'd felt in his emotions a few hours before, that loneliness and despair—that was after
ten years
of coming back from that low. Despite every illusion she could cast, every silly thing she thought up, Radha simply couldn't imagine the loneliness and misery that he'd put himself through, the low point he must have reached to even
consider
ascending.

“No wonder Heaven seemed so appealing. If it's not really a spaceship,” she said, and his low laugh seemed to break apart the icy pain that clawed at her throat.

“I didn't care about Heaven,” he said. “I just wanted to be a Guardian—but I didn't want to live in Hell anymore while being one. And I thought that if I just lacked faith, the Ascension was the perfect way to prove it.”

“But?”

“But then I pulled my head out of my ass, as I said. I took a look around Caelum, at all the Guardians there. Not a single one of them was chosen to become a Guardian just because they had faith in something—they had all
done
something. I saved my father. You traded your life for your son's.”

And put herself at the mercy of a merciless vampire. Radha grimaced. Though she'd have made the same choice again, a million times over, she could only recall the teeth ripping her throat open, the horrifying pain—and she didn't like to think about it. She rarely spoke of it, and then only briefly.

“You remember that?”

“I haven't forgotten anything you told me—like pointing out that the Rules don't say a thing about faith. They basically say: Try not to kill or hurt anyone. It's the same with being chosen as a Guardian: It was never about what we believed. It was what we
did
. The reward for that was just fine. So I chose to keep on doing rather than ascending.”

“But you decided to keep on doing it differently.” No more celibate warrior. “You changed that.”

“I did. I bought this house, a little land. I took a day now and then to travel. I started stopping for coffee, chatting with the old men, buying ice cream.”

And began taking a few other steps, she realized now. Like working with Special Investigations. He hadn't always—and not every Guardian did. But it required him to keep in touch with other Guardians. That contact would lead to relationships with people who
did
understand him. Not romantic ones, but working relationships. Maybe friendships.

She hoped he wanted to cultivate this one again. “So it's better.”

“Yes.” His expression darkened. Not looking back at himself with humor now, but simply remembering. “A hell of a lot better.”

“I wish I'd known. I'd have looked for you. But maybe you wouldn't have stopped for me, either.”

“I'd have stopped for you,” he said, taking her breath. “Now give me your next question.”

He'd made this one so easy for her. “Will you come over here and kiss me?”

“Yes.” But he didn't move, and his fingers clenched on the edge of the countertop, as if holding himself back. “You need to ask me a few more things first, though. Such as, How did I like Bangladesh?”

Oh.
Yes, that was important. Bangladesh, and the other regions in her territory. They could easily travel back and forth several times a week by using the portals through Caelum to cut down the flying time. And they didn't have to spend it all in bed. He could fight at her side while she patrolled her territory, and she'd do the same here with him. Partners, of a sort . . . and she'd love to hunt with him.

“How did you like it?”

“It was the worst trip I've taken,” he said, squeezing her heart almost to nothing. “There I was, hot, odors all around me—from the food, the flowers, the people—and color everywhere. I spent three days walking through the jungle, the cities, flying across the plains. I couldn't appreciate a damn bit of it. Because I'd done a good job of putting you out of my head, but there . . . I only wondered whether you'd walked the same roads before. I wondered what you thought when you saw something, how your perception would be different from mine. I wondered what you'd say. And so I spent the whole trip wishing you were with me.”

Her heart filled again, too fast. She blinked away the stinging in her eyes. “When you come again, I'll tell you what I see.”

“Good. Now ask if I'll do much more than kiss you tonight.”

He'd better. “Will you?”

“No,” he said, but disappointment couldn't touch her, not when his eyes glowed so intensely green. He
wanted
to. That mattered more. “Because as it stands now, that list of mine begins and ends with you. I don't mind keeping it that way.”

Only her.
Astonishment roiled into fierce possession. Only
hers.

And it was stupid, so stupid—but she was glad of it. She'd been the only one to mean something to him. She wished he'd been happier in his life, that he hadn't been lonely, but if this was how they'd ended up . . . Radha wasn't sorry that it had been her.

“So I'll kiss you, but I don't want to rush to the bed. I want you to be sure of me first.
Absolutely
sure,” he emphasized when she opened her mouth. “That takes more than a few hours, and I'd prefer to wait than to see you hurt, if you realize you made a mistake. And on my end . . . I want to savor you. I want to find out what you like a little bit at a time, learn every inch of you. Even if that means a year passes before I'm inside you again.”

A year of waiting? Oh, no. She wouldn't survive the frustration. “I'll die. You'll kill me.”

His
grin
killed her. “It'll be fun.”

Yes, it would be. Because she'd tease the hell out of him in return, and she loved doing that. She loved the way he took it.

“Now ask me if I'll see that you're satisfied tonight, and every night while we're building up to it,” he said. “Unless I'm misreading you—and after you leave, you don't plan to come back, and you don't want me to visit you there.”

Satisfied.
Her anticipation mounted. “You're not misreading me.”

“Good.” Despite the relief in his reply, his tension increased. “Now I've got a question. What are you here for? Are you hiding? Tell me how to help you.”

He still thought she was in trouble? And he wanted to fix it for her. God, that was so hot. Confidence, strength, and protection, in one sexy package.

“I'm not hiding. I saw you in Caelum last week, and I was worried about you.”

“You were?” Clearly taken aback, he shook his head. “Why?”

“Because you looked like you thought the world was ending.”

His surprise rolled into a laugh. “Ah. It feels like that sometimes.”

“But you don't really think it will?”

“Not as long as I'm standing.”

Not arrogance, just an intention to fight to the end and come out on top. God, that was sexy, too. And it was exactly what she planned to do.

He studied her face, as if gauging her through this new perspective. “You know I'm all right.”

“Yes.”

And getting better. A
lot
better, as soon as he kissed her. If he didn't soon, she'd take matters into her own hands.

“So you're done here. You could leave,” he said.

“Yes.”

“But you haven't.” His fingers clenched on the counter's edge again, hard enough to crack the tile. “Radha, when I kiss you—I'm assuming you want me to. I'll assume that's true until you tell me it's not. You understand that? I can't hold back with you. I'm only doing it now because I have to be sure. I have to be absolutely sure.”

So he wouldn't hurt her again.

“I'm sure,” she said.

He
didn't
hold back. But he came slowly, so slowly, holding her gaze with every step. Her heart thundered as he bent his head toward hers again.

“I'm only surprised that
you
held back,” he murmured.

So was she. Breathless, she said, “I didn't want to take advantage of you again. I want you to be sure, too. But as soon as you kiss me, all bets are off.”

“All right, then.”

He framed her face with his hands, his callused palms cupping her cheeks. Her breath shuddered. His lips opened over hers, hot, immediately searching.
Finally.
Joy swept aside the need, sweet and light, and she laughed against his mouth. Marc. She felt his smile, the curve of his lips, then he licked lightly into her mouth and desire came crashing back, stronger, hotter. Moaning, she rose onto her toes, trying to get closer.

No waiting. She needed him now.
Now.

Her fingers fisted in his hair. The table skidded back as she pushed off it, leaping onto him. Her legs wrapped around solid muscle at his waist. So long and lean. So hard everywhere. Clinging to him, mouths fused, she rubbed against his aroused length.

His groan fueled her need. She deepened the kiss and tasted him, vanilla and wet heat. Rough hands dropped to her thighs, his fingers spreading over bare skin.

She tore her mouth from his, panting. “Higher.”

His hair disheveled by her fingers, eyes shining with need, he carried her to the table again. “Slower.”

Foolish man. He could try.

He set her on the table, the surface cool against the backs of her thighs. Deliberately, Radha lay back, spreading herself out before him.

She grinned wickedly. “Did you like the ice cream?”

Without giving him the chance to reply, she formed the illusion: a scoop of vanilla at the juncture of her thighs, melting from the heat of her flesh. Marc, kneeling between her legs, holding her open and gently lapping. She made him taste it, sweet and cold.