Bound Guardian Angel (33 page)

“Their father didn’t turn their mother?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t know why,
but he never made her his davala. Probably because of his illegal
activities. My bet is that he didn’t want to petition Bain for
permission. That would have put him on Bain’s radar.” She shrugged
one shoulder. “I would have just done it without getting
permission, especially if I was already a criminal, anyway. Then
again, this is all just speculation since I don’t really know what
his reasons were for not changing her.”

Trace looked back down at Null. “He’s a
tough little guy.”

“Yes, he is. They both are.” She paused then
added, “So are you.” She nibbled the inside of her lip. “And I’m
sorry for what I said to you in the kitchen. I was angry and out of
line. I didn’t mean it.” As much as she hated having to apologize,
something about apologizing to him was easier.

His face shaded red, and he lowered his
head. “Yeah, me, too. What I said to you . . .”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. You didn’t deserve that.
I never should have done what I did this afternoon, and I never
should have insulted you. I’m sorry, okay?”

They stared at each other for a drawn-out
moment, and then she looked away and nodded tightly. “Okay.”

For the next few minutes, they watched the
movie in awkward silence. Then Trace cleared his throat as if
putting the period at the end of one chapter and preparing to start
a new one.

“So, what about the other kids?” he asked.
“Where did they come from?”

She gently brushed her palm down Aiden’s
hair. “Various places. I find most of them lost inside the human
foster care system.”

Trace turned his attention back to the
picture Null had drawn then set it down. He took a deep breath,
blew it out, and fidgeted. “You, um . . .” He kept
his gaze averted. “You’re, uh . . . you’re good with
them.” He coughed quietly and cleared his throat.

“Gee, Trace, you sound a little sick.” She
grinned. “That must have been hard for you to say.”

His eyes met hers then instantly broke
contact. “You have no idea.”

She almost laughed but stopped herself so
she didn’t wake up Aiden. “I don’t know, lice boy. I might have
some
idea.”

He scowled at her. “I don’t have lice.”

This time she did laugh but abruptly caught
herself as Aiden shifted against her. “I should pay Null for giving
me that little nugget this morning.”

“You’re pushing your luck,
Coco
.” But
his tone wasn’t nearly as antagonistic as it had been earlier. Dare
she say, he actually sounded playful, as if he were enjoying
himself.

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t dig for more
information about Brak, huh?”

Trace bristled. “No. Definitely not.”

“Okay.” She held up her free hand. “You’ve
earned a reprieve. No Brak talk tonight. I was only kidding,
anyway.”

“You? Kidding? Have I entered an alternate
dimension?”

She sighed. “Is it so hard to believe I
might not be the total bitch you think I am? Is it that hard to
fathom I might actually be a nice person?”

He regarded her for a second. “I suppose
it’s possible. You
are
good with the kids. Maybe it’s just
your adult skills that lack.”

“Or maybe I just don’t like people who break
the law?” Why, oh why, was she ruining a good thing? Bringing up
what had brought them together in the first place was a surefire
way to destroy the peace between them.

“And maybe I just don’t like intrusive
witches who can’t keep their minds to themselves.”

And there it went. The peace. Right out the
door.

“And maybe I wouldn’t have to be intrusive
if more people didn’t screw around with evidence.”

“I only screwed with evidence because I was
ordered to.” Trace’s face hardened.

Her blood began to boil. “You should have
refused to follow those orders.”

“And if I had, my pal would have been put to
death to leave his pregnant mate inside a living hell.”

Cordray huffed. “You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know that he wouldn’t have
been killed.”

“You still shouldn’t have broken the
law.”

Trace scowled at her. “I did, and I’d do it
again to save an innocent male’s life. It’s called loyalty. It’s
called compassion. Maybe you should try it.”

“You’re a loose cannon.”

“Only when provoked.”

Cordray worked hard not to raise her voice,
aware of the sleeping toddler in her arms. “Your actions could have
started another war. They still could.”

“How do you figure, sweetheart?”

They were back to sweetheart, were they?

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Fine, whatever. How do you figure my
actions could start another war,
Cordray
?”

She leaned toward him. “As an enforcer, you
have rules to follow,
Traceon
. If you don’t follow those
rules and run off half-cocked, or if you follow the misguided
orders of your commander without thinking of the consequences and
end up fu—” She glanced down at Aiden. “I mean,
messing
with
the wrong people, or even killing them with that out-of-control
hand of yours, you could set off a chain reaction that could bring
the races into a head-to-head confrontation.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Of course not. You’re too busy being a
hotheaded ass.”

“Hey, I could have killed you in Bain’s
dungeon, swee—Cordray. I could have easily snapped your neck, and
we wouldn’t even be having this discussion right now. But I didn’t.
I let you live when I was already compromised. Is that really how a
hotheaded ass behaves?”

Actually, no it wasn’t. The way he’d been in
Bain’s dungeon, holding her by the neck through the bars, his
irises tinged yellow, she had seen inside his mind and known how
close she’d come to death. But he’d held back. Something had reined
him in and he’d let her live.

“Why didn’t you just kill me, Trace? What
stopped you?”

He obstinately sank back into the chair. His
frown deepened as his jaw set in such a way that he looked like he
refused to say another word.

“Tell me,” she said, verbally pushing him.
“Why
didn’t
you kill me that day?”

His pale eyes flinched, and a quiet growl
broke through his chest. “Because . . .”

“Because why?” Cordray glared at him.

For several seconds, silence stretched
between them, and she began to think he wouldn’t break.

“You might as well tell me or I’ll just go
in and see your thoughts for myself. You know I can.”

That pissed him off even more, but he didn’t
respond to the threat. Just looked away as if he knew he was backed
into a corner and hated how it felt.

He remained silent for several more seconds.
Finally, he sneered and said, “Something told me killing you would
be a mistake. That I would regret it if I did. Now, I’m kind of
regretting that I didn’t.” He frowned and glanced away. A moment
later, he exhaled a frustrated breath as his shoulders fell.
“That’s not true. I’m glad I didn’t kill you that day, but I wish I
could understand what made me stop.”

Cordray studied him as he turned his
attention back to Null, the wind suddenly gone from his sails.

Rigid stillness settled over them again.
Peace wasn’t re-emerging. This feeling was too tense to be peace.
But at least the aggression from a moment ago was gone.

“Why do you hate me so much?” she said
quietly. “Is it because I had the unfortunate task of revealing
what you and the others did to Bain’s guards? I couldn’t
not
tell Bain what you’d done, Trace. I work for him. I can’t lie to
him.” When he didn’t answer immediately, she said, “Or is there
another reason?”

His gaze lifted to hers. “Why do
you
hate
me
so much?” He threw her own words back at her. “Is it
because I had the misfortune of following orders to protect my
comrade? Tristan is
my
boss. I work for him. When he gives
me an order, I can’t second-guess him. I have to trust that he
knows the best course of action. It’s why
your
boss made
Tristan
my
boss. Because he had faith in his ability to lead
and make the hard choices so I wouldn’t have to.” He stared at
her.

Well, hell, she hadn’t thought of the
situation in those terms before. Trace made a good point. To
disobey Tristan would be like her disobeying Bain. Not that she
didn’t disagree with her half-brother occasionally, but she didn’t
usually disobey him outright.

Her head began to ache. She didn’t want to
talk about this, anymore. Besides, she needed to get going. She had
to get ready for Grudge Match and still wanted to investigate the
pedway afterward if she had time.

“Look,” she said, sighing, “I don’t want to
fight with you. Not tonight. Not when I’ve got to get ready for
work.” She already had enough on her mind. She didn’t need to add
yet another argument with Trace to the pile.

“Fine.” He turned his attention to the
movie.

Cordray stroked Aiden’s hair. She didn’t
hate Trace. As much as she fought with him, called him names, and
insulted him, she never once felt any hatred toward him. In fact,
the exact opposite was true. She was fascinated by him. In awe of
him. Jealous, even. Jealous because he had friends like Micah and
Sam. And jealous because they had him.

She wanted what they all had with each
other. What Micah and Sam got from Trace.

Him.

She wanted him.

She saw that now.

But damn it, it was so much easier to say
she didn’t. So much easier to push him away than to risk her
heart.

As Frodo met the benevolent elves in the
movie, she slid her gaze his direction.

Null had turned over and now lay on his
stomach, with his head on Trace’s shoulder. All the fresh air today
had wiped the kids out.

“You’re really good with him,” she
whispered.

Trace glanced down at the little boy then
met her gaze.

She sighed as her heart opened, which was
exactly what she’d been fighting so hard to prevent.

Too late.

It was done.

“Trace . . .” She briefly
pursed her lips as she looked away. Being genuinely nice to him
almost felt traitorous, but she was weary of fighting. Weary of
pushing him away, when all she wanted was to pull him closer.
Sighing again, she glanced back at him. When she spoke again, her
voice was a gentle whisper. “Trace, I don’t hate you. It would be
easier if I did, but I don’t.”

God, hearing her own voice speak those words
was both nauseating and exhilarating.

Blame it on the night. On the children’s
peaceful influence. On the full moon—was there a full moon tonight?
The point was, whatever reason she had for warming to him and
feeling the need to finally open up was not her own doing.
Something else controlled her tonight. Something other than
reality.

And the reality was that she was insanely
crazy about the guy.

She was as hot on Trace as sizzle on
bacon.

And all she wanted was to take a bite.

A long, luxurious, erotic bite.

* * *

Trace could only stare.

Was Cordray coming on to him? Maybe their
interlude earlier today had affected her more than she’d let on. It
sure had with him, because he wouldn’t have minded a replay of that
action. But why now? He’d given her the opportunity to go there
with him again when they’d been cleaning up the kitchen, and she’d
slammed the door on the idea in glorious fashion, using the F-word
on him. Freak. That had shut down all prospects of a rematch. So,
her behavior now confused him.

Maybe he was reading more into the moment
than there was. Her admission that she didn’t hate him could just
be a result of the truce she’d called.

He held her gaze for a long, drawn-out
minute, just staring.

Finally, he admitted, “I don’t hate you,
either.”

And, really, he didn’t. She scared him,
which was why he let loose on her all the time. She reminded him of
those kids he’d grown up with. The ones who’d bullied him. The ones
he’d never stood up to. She reminded him of Beth, the pretty girl
he’d had a crush on who’d never given him the time of day.

Now, Cordray was the pretty girl he had a
crush on. The beautiful female he couldn’t wrest his eyes from.
Covered in tattoos, with a ruby stud pierced through the side of
her nose, a gold lip ring, and rings of silver and platinum
covering every finger, she was an image of Gothic beauty. A vampire
princess in modern times, clad in black, with raven hair streaked
with turquoise and electric blue. Never had he seen a more striking
female. Not even Sam, whom he adored.

Even so, she still reminded him of Beth. She
teased and taunted him mercilessly, and all he wanted was to catch
her eye.

And while he’d never stood up for himself
when he was a child, he’d conditioned himself in the past two
hundred years to do exactly that and protect his heart.

Even Micah had reminded him of his bullied
childhood at first. But he’d forced himself to push through that
barrier, because he’d known the rewards for befriending Micah would
be worth the effort to overcome his resentment and feelings of
isolation.

He just hadn’t counted on Micah taking him
in so wholly and unconditionally.

And Sam. He couldn’t forget Sam in all this.
She’d welcomed him in a way he’d never felt before. She and Micah
loved him. And he loved them in return.

Wasn’t it possible that if he dropped his
guard a little, he’d find that he and Cordray could get along, too?
That maybe a friendship with her would be just as rewarding as the
one he’d discovered with Micah?

Maybe even more, because the feelings
coursing through his blood felt stronger than mere friendship.
These were lustful, dark, and heady emotions that awakened his
anatomy and made his chest vibrate with needful warmth.