Bound Guardian Angel (65 page)

He lowered himself, folding his arm under
his head so he could lay eye-to-eye with her. “I like waking you up
like that. It means I’ve still got it.”

She blinked sleepily and grinned. “Baby,
I’ll let you in on a little secret. You’re always gonna have
it.”

“Yeah, well, I enjoy reminding myself.”

“At the expense of my REM sleep.”

“Okay, go back to sleep then.” He shifted
closer.

“Why? You’ll just wake me up again.”

He smiled and skimmed his palm over the
slope and fall of her hip. “Only because I love the color of your
eyes.”

She closed them for several seconds then
popped them open again. “How’s that?”

He shook his head. “It’s just not the same.
It’s kind of fun watching the sleep drain out of them.”

She shimmied closer and pressed her palm to
his chest. “You know, they say that lack of sleep leads to
hallucinations and even psychosis.”

“Yeah, well, you’re already crazy.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Crazy for you,
asshole.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“Not even close.”

He rolled her to her back, needing to feel
her come again. Every time she came, her body shuddered like she
was having an internal earthquake, and something about knowing he
did that to her made his chest swell with pride. He gave her
pleasure, and, in return, that pleasured him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Despite
her contrary words, she wrapped her arms and legs around him,
holding him place.

“Claiming my female.”

“You enjoy claiming her, don’t you?”

He eased inside her, and nearly came at the
way her fingernails bit into his back as she closed her eyes and
moaned.

“I can’t resist.” He thrust his pubic bone
against her mound, making her gasp and shiver. “She’s just so”—he
pumped into her again, and her entire body fell into an orgasmic
spasm—“fucking responsive.”

“You b-bastard.” Her thighs shuddered
against his hips as she whimpered through an aftershock. “You
shouldn’t be taking advantage of my centuries-old sensory
deprivation like that.” It was obvious she loved that he took
advantage of it as much as he did.

“Not so big and tough now, are you,
sweetheart.” He pumped into her and moaned at the way her inner
muscles contracted and quivered around his cock.

Her eyes flared as they met his. “You talk
too much.” She linked her hands at the back of his neck and pulled
him down so her lips pressed against his. “Now, shut up and fuck
me.”

He grinned. “You tryin’ to boss my dick,
baby?”

She smiled and nipped his bottom lip. “Every
day.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear.

He began pumping in earnest. “Don’t you ever
stop, either.”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“Never.”

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Cordray trailed behind Trace
as he led her into the living room of Micah’s home. He still had a
slight limp but no longer needed the crutches, thanks to feeding
from her several times in the last couple of days.

Toys, crayons, and coloring books were
strewn everywhere, and it looked like Micah and Sam had purchased a
gaming unit and every video game known to man to play on it, which
Gavin and Faith were taking full advantage of while Null
colored.

Panya was in the kitchen with Sam, baking
what smelled like chocolate chip cookies.

Micah had grown particularly fond of Aiden,
who was now, this very moment, perched beside him on the couch,
braiding his shoulder-length hair in dozens of skinny braids.

“Look at you,” Cordray said to Micah, taking
a seat across from him. “If you were in a beige bathing suit
running along the beach in slow motion to Ravel’s ‘Boléro,’ I’d
think you were Bo Derek from the movie,
Ten
.”

“Yeah,” Trace added, “looks good, Mike.”

Micah surreptitiously flipped them both
off.

She smiled and said to Aiden, “You’re doing
such a good job, honey. I can’t wait to see his hair when you’re
all finished.” To Micah, she asked, “Where are Mya and Brenna?”

“Shopping for more clothes.”

They were still replacing everything they’d
lost in the fire.

“You have soft hair,” Aiden said, twisting
and tying off another braid before starting another, her fingers
working with the confident sureness of someone ten times her
age.

“Well, I condition every day,” Micah said,
lightly tapping her nose.

“Don’t let him fool you, Aiden,” Sam called
from the kitchen. “His hair is naturally soft like that.”

“Hey now,” Micah said over his shoulder, “I
condition . . . occasionally.”

Aiden giggled.

Cordray glanced at Null. “Hey, little man,
are you about ready to leave so you can show Trace whatever it is
you want to show him?”

“Where are you guys going?” Micah said.

“Null said he wanted to take Trace
somewhere.”

Null hopped up and thrust a picture toward
Trace.

Trace took it and held it out where Cordray
could see it.

The picture showed a burning building in the
background and a dark-skinned male in the foreground. He was
wearing a blue and red cape and held hands with two little kids
with blond hair and blue eyes.

Cordray smiled and nudged Trace’s arm. “I
think he’s trying to tell you you’re his hero.”

Humility crossed Trace’s face as his eyes
softened. He nodded. "I get that.” He smiled proudly at her.

Null grabbed Trace’s hand. “Come on, Twace.
I wanna show you something.” He tugged Trace off the couch and
started for the front door.

Cordray stood at the same time Micah did,
hoisting Aiden up with him and resting her on his hip.

“Looks like Null is eager to get going,” she
said.

“Yeah, me, too,” Micah said. “I’ve got to
work tonight.” He looked at Aiden. “So you’ll have to finish my
hair later, okay?”

She giggled and swiped her fingers left to
right over the ends of his braids, making them sway side to side
like strands of beads. “Okay.”

“Are you paying our friend a visit tonight?”
Cordray knew Micah had been watching Ronan for the last forty-eight
hours, making sure he fell back into his complacent routine before
striking.

Micah’s eyes narrowed mischievously as one
corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. It was all the
confirmation she needed.

“Thought so.” She ruffled Aiden’s hair then
said to Micah, “Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.”

“I don’t.” He held her gaze for a long
moment. “But thanks.” He set Aiden down and joined Trace by the
door, locking forearms with him in a bro hug. “I’ll see you later.
You gonna be around?”

“We’ll probably stick around for a while.”
Trace met her eyes. “But we’ll be spending the night at Cordray’s
place again.”

Micah rolled his eyes and turned as he
dashed his hand in a downward motion at them. “You two are like
rabbits.”

Trace chuckled. “Takes one to know one.”

“Come on, Twace.” Null tugged Trace toward
the door. “Let’s go.”

Cordray waved to Sam over her shoulder as
Micah disappeared around the corner. “Save us some cookies. We’ll
be back later.”

Sam looked up from helping Panya stir
another batch of cookie dough and waved. “We’ll have plenty. I
think we’re going to make snickerdoodles after this.”

What was up with that female? She’d become
an eating machine. There were already platters of chocolate chip
cookies, brownies, and something that looked like deconstructed
s’mores, and now it looked like she was making some kind of peanut
butter cookie.

“Is Sam okay?” Cordray said to Trace as they
closed the door and followed Null to the Denali.

He helped secure Null in his car seat.
“She’s just feeling maternal with a household of kids is all.”

Cordray’s instincts told her that wasn’t it,
but for lack of a better explanation, Trace’s would have to do.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Trace followed Null into the
woods behind Asylum. The remains of the dorm had already been
cleared, leaving only a charred rectangle of dirt, but construction
on the new dorm was to begin in a few days. King Bain had already
assigned a team of architects to design a new one. A larger
one.

The kids would be back at the ranch before
they knew it, and they would live in style.

“Over here, Twace.” Null motioned him toward
a stream.

With the sun dragging toward the horizon,
the afternoon light was quickly fading into evening, but it was
still light enough to see where he was going.

He sidestepped down a steep embankment and
knelt beside Null at the edge of a sandbar.

Cordray waited quietly behind them.

Null squatted and inspected the earth then
began digging his tiny fingers into the wet soil.

“What are we looking for, little man?” Trace
asked, unsure what he should be doing to help.

“Just wait. I’ll find it.” The little boy
continued digging, getting his shoes wet. Mud turned the hem of his
jeans brown.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Fifteen.

The sun was beginning to set.

“A-ha!” Null yanked his hand out of the
stream, showering them with water.

Trace shielded himself then lowered his
arms.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” He peered
closer at the rock Null held in his hand. It was whitish in color,
speckled with black.

“It’s a wock. Like the one in my collection.
You said you had one like it when you wewe my age.”

Trace gingerly took the rock from Null’s
tiny hand and let it rest in his palm as he slowly lowered himself
to a crouch.

It wasn’t just a similar rock to the one
from his childhood collection. It was the same rock. The same exact
one.

Mother.

She’d brought it to him. Somehow, she’d
found it and brought it here so he could find it. Tears stung the
backs of his eyes.

Null dropped to his knees in front of Trace
and patted his little hand over the rock as he turned up his
chipmunk-cheeked face and smiled so brightly it was a wonder the
sun didn’t get jealous. “This is a hewo’s rock.”
Pat-pat-pat.
“You’we my hewo, and one day, I’ll be a hewo,
too.”

Cordray placed her hand on his shoulder and
squeezed.

He didn’t have to look at her to know she
had a smile on her face.

“I told you you’re his hero,” she said.

He shook his head and ruffled Null’s hair.
“Naw, little man. I’m not a hero.” He winked and glanced skyward.
“I’m a guardian angel. Just like my mother.” He turned his gaze
toward Cordray as he stood, holding her eyes with his. “I’m a
guardian angel, bound to protect those I love and care about with
the power my mother gave me.” His heart swelled with happiness and
pride as he gazed at her. “Until now, I thought my power was a
curse, but now I see it was really a gift.” He wrapped his hand
around hers. “A gift meant to lead me to you, and I swear on my
every heartbeat that I will protect you, your children—and ours—for
as long as I live. You are my family now, and I will destroy anyone
who tries to harm my family.”

He’d come full circle, closing the last
remaining door on his past.

He wasn’t a freak. He was a protector. He’d
been created to protect, not destroy.

As he turned and led Cordray and Null up the
embankment, he swore he heard his mother’s contented sigh on the
breeze and felt her smile at his back.

But he knew if he looked, he would find
nothing but burnished sunlight, shimmering water, and shadows.

I love you, Mother.

A refreshing breeze scented of jasmine was
his only reply.

But it was enough.

Enough to know she was with him and always
would be, in death as she had been in life.

Forever.

Epilogue

The moment he heard the key slip into the lock, Micah
raised his Sig and pointed it at the door. He’d been waiting in the
shadows inside Ronan’s rental home for nearly an hour. Silent.
Deadly. Ready for answers and retribution, not necessarily in that
order.

Ronan’s silhouette slipped inside. He shut
the door then fell still as he peered into the darkness, as if he
knew he wasn’t alone. Micah actually felt the air prickle with
Ronan’s sudden awareness.

Perceptive little fucker. Micah couldn’t
deny that a part of him was impressed with the little shit. He was
resourceful and cunning, with strong instincts and keen senses. He
reminded Micah of how he’d been when he was younger, and in any
other circumstance, he would have considered recruiting Ronan. AKM
needed talented enforcers, and Ronan clearly had talent. But this
shit was personal, so yeah, there would be no sales pitch about how
Ronan needed AKM as much as AKM needed him.

Without turning on the light, Ronan pulled a
gun from the back waist of his pants and swung it around, prepared
to fire.

Micah fired first, catching him in the
shoulder.

Ronan staggered backward and slammed into
the door.

“Welcome home, asshole.” Micah rose from the
chair he’d been sitting in and trained the gun’s sight on the
center of Ronan’s forehead. This fucker had broken into his
apartment, stolen his property, and toyed with him. Now he would
pay the piper.

Ronan regrouped and started to bring his gun
back around to attempt another shot.

“Don’t even think about it”—Micah kicked the
gun out of his hand—“or I’ll blast a hole in your other shoulder so
you won’t even be able to hold your dick to take a piss. Because
one way or another, asshole, you’re going to answer my questions,
return what belongs to me, and then—if you’re lucky—I
might
let you live.” He took a menacing step forward, gun trained between
Ronan’s eyes. “
If
you’re lucky.”

From the angry sneer that overtook Ronan’s
full lips and the way his thick, black eyebrows bunched over his
nose, he didn’t seem willing to cooperate. “Fuck you. I don’t owe
you
shit
.”