Downs, Jana - Angel Bound [His Guardian Angels 1] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever ManLove - Serialized) (5 page)

“Mom!” Madigan caught his mother in his arms, holding her tight.

“When Raphael came to me and told me you were in trouble, I was so scared that they wouldn’t get you here,” she babbled.

“I’m okay, Mom. I promise I’m okay. They took care of me. Aw,  Mom. Don’t cry.” Madigan hugged his mother tightly, his eyes closed.

Cross glanced at the sky, trying to read the energy of the atmosphere. Noncorporeal angels flitted back and forth like darting insects. They were the messengers, guardians of a different sort. None of them were harmful. Still, they needed to get out of the open air.  While the angels after Madigan were slower because of their physical form, they could be heading this way, and Cross did not want to risk being seen.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but let’s go inside,” Cross said quickly. He ushered them all up the steps and into the house. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he felt a pulse of divine power.
 
Raphael
. He took a right in the entryway and followed the hallway.

“Where the hell is he going?” Bren’s voice rose up behind him.

“Just follow him, jackass,” Michel said.

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The sounds of footfalls followed him down the hallway. He followed the power signature of the Archangel into a large room with  French doors. It was a deep-wine-colored room with rich hardwood floors and a large, plush sectional arranged in an
 
L
 
in the center of the room. That wasn’t what captured the angel’s attention, though. It was the decorations and statuary that crowded the walls on all sides that filled him with quiet awe.

Archangel Raphael in all visible forms decorated the walls in the forms of statues, bas-reliefs, paintings, engravings, prints, and tapestries. The presence of the Archangel saturated the room with feelings of healing and comfort. He’d been here often.

“So which one does he look like?” Madigan asked, appearing by his side. He glanced down. Raphael’s son was not much taller than his mother. He couldn’t have been more than five eight to Cross’s six four. He had all of Raphael’s beauty though. Same rust-colored hair, same creamy skin, same large, dark green eyes. However, Madigan did not have Raphael’s towering stature and super masculine, dominant appeal. He seemed almost delicate. Perhaps it was his humanity that made him so. There was something about him that awakened every protective instinct Cross possessed.

“Cross? Which one does he look like?” Madigan repeated. Cross blinked. He’d been so busy staring at Madigan he’d forgotten to answer. His gaze flickered around the room.

“None of them do him justice. You would receive a better picture of him by looking in the mirror. Though, this room does feel like him.  He has come here often. His energy saturates this space.”

“I look like him?” Madigan seemed surprised by it. Cross didn’t understand why. He obviously didn’t look like his mother. His naïve expression was adorable. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and traced the boy’s jaw with his index finger.

“Yes,” he said. “You look a lot like him.” Someone cleared their

throat behind them. Cross mentally shook his head and drew his hand  back. Madigan’s pheromones were affecting him more than he’d

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Jana Downs

originally thought. It seemed his men weren’t the only ones he would

have to watch.

He turned and found Madigan’s mother staring at him with an incredibly knowing expression. He’d been one of Raphael’s warriors for thousands of years, and yet one quelling look from the small woman had him taking a step back.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Please, everyone sit down. The sectional should be big enough. It’s what Madi’s father uses when he visits. The seats are wider to accommodate you wings.”  She pointed to a small, wing-backed chair across from the sectional that Cross hadn’t noticed before. “You sit there, Madi. These boys are looking at you like you’re a steak and they’re a pack of wild dogs.”

Cross sputtered, “I beg your pardon! I do not look at him like that.”

Bren sniggered. “Wanna bet, chief? Just a second ago you looked like you wanted to lick him like an ice-cream cone. Tsk, tsk. What’s  Raphael going to say when he sees you drooling over his boy?”

Madigan blushed, and Cross growled. “Shut
 
up
, Bren. One more smart comment and I will drag you before your lord and have you beaten.”

“Oh just admit it. You want him,” Bren snapped. “Just like Michel  has been sporting wood for the kid since we arrived.”

“You vulgar piece of trash!” Cross rumbled, taking a menacing  step forward. Anger blazed hot in his chest. He’d had it up to his  eyeballs with Bren’s attitude. Ever since they’d met up in the divine  hall to go to Madigan’s apartment, he’d been a complete and utter  bastard. He reached for his divine weapon, and it blazed to life in his  hands, pouring from his wrists where he housed it. Bren did the same.  Madigan yelped and scrambled back away from them, dragging his  mother along with him.

“Bring it!” Bren shouted.

“
Enough
 
!” Dex yelled, stepping in front of Bren. Michel

mimicked him by stepping in front of Cross.

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“You’re scaring Madigan, Cross. You told us all from the  beginning not to startle him. The weaponry is freaking him out. Lose  it.” Michel’s calm voice was logical. Cross knew that. He just didn’t  have to like it. “I don’t like the prick either, Cross. But now is not the  time.”

Cross nodded. His gaze flicked to Bren, who already put his weapon away and had his arms crossed over his chest, that same smart-ass expression plastered on his face. It was so arrogant. What was his problem? Then he saw what. Bren’s gaze went to the corner where Madigan and his mother were huddled. His eyes softened and a longing filled his gaze.
 
Huh
. That made sense. So he was also attracted to the boy.

“Come on out, Madigan,” Bren coaxed. “We would never harm you.”

Madigan glared and held on to his mother even tighter. “No offense, but you started it. So forgive me if I don’t find your word very trustworthy. I’ve had it with winged guys pulling out WMDs at the slightest provocation.”

“You have my word, Madigan. Nothing is going to hurt you or yours,” Cross offered. He sighed as Madigan’s forest gaze lit on him skeptically. He didn’t blame the human. He really didn’t. He just wished he trusted them more.

Madigan’s mother stood, shaking off her son’s arms. She looked madder than one of the Seraphim after a group of young angels refused to get into proper formation for a presentation to the  Almighty. “Raphael told me you’d watch over my boy. That you were guardian angels handpicked by the archangels to help him.” Cross opened his mouth to reassure her, but the look on her face stopped him. “I’m not finished.” Her voice raised a notch in volume. “You

almost let the other angels kill him, you let him freeze on the flight  over here, you’ve explained nothing to him about the situation he’s in,  and you’re scaring him half to death. So far Heaven’s best does not  look the least bit efficient. Are you in charge?” The question was to

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Jana Downs

Cross. After a moment, he nodded in embarrassment. “You are doing a piss-poor job of it.”

“Mom!” Madigan jumped in.

“No, Madigan. Your mother is correct,” Cross said. He went to one knee and bowed his head. “Forgive me for failing your son,  Raphael’s Consort. In the future, I will endeavor to provide better for him.” His sense of honor would accept nothing else. The mission had not started off in the smoothest fashion.

“Good. See that you do.” Her manicured nail pointed to Bren.  “And you”—he tensed as if preparing to be struck—“Stop pitching a  fit because you’re jealous. My Madi doesn’t like when men act like  Neanderthals around him, and you won’t win any points for being a  jerk.” Bren blushed scarlet. “Now, everyone, please, sit down. Madi  needs to relax, and we all have a lot of explaining to do.”

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Chapter Four

Madigan shivered and pulled the blanket that Michel had wrapped around his shoulders tighter to his body. He couldn’t believe that he was sitting in a chair across from four angels as his mother flitted from angel to angel, taking drink orders. It seemed so domestic. He rubbed his tired eyes. He wished this whole night had never happened. He wanted off this cracked-out roller coaster.

“Madi, I’m making you a cup of coffee. It’ll be done in just a minute,” his mother said. He nodded sluggishly.
 
Coffee. Coffee would be good.
 
She disappeared from the angel room, and he listened as her footsteps echoed off the wood floors until she hit the tile in the kitchen. He knew the sounds of this house by heart. It was comforting. At least that hadn’t changed. A grin spread across his face as he had a realization. He’d always wondered why the hallways in the house were so wide. Now he knew. They had to accommodate wings. He giggled at the thought.

“Are you all right, Madigan?” Cross asked. He was the one sitting closest to him on the sectional. His brown eyes were filled with

concern.

“I don’t know,” Madigan answered honestly. He rubbed his  temples. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m tired.” Cross stood from the  couch and crossed the three-foot space between them. He took  Madigan’s hands in his own, and Madigan looked up into his face in  surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Hush for a moment and you’ll see.” Then his hands started to  glow. Madigan jumped as warmth spread from the angel’s hands and  engulfed his.

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“What is that?” he asked.

“Your father’s choir are healers. It’s one of my powers.” Cross  closed his eyes, seemingly concentrating on his task. Amazingly, after  only a few more seconds, Madigan’s headache waned and his  tiredness eased a bit. “Better?” Cross asked.

“Much. Thank you.” The angel went back and sat on the couch.  His mom came in with a couple glasses and a longneck bottle of beer.

“Here you go, boys,” she said, handing each angel a beverage.  Michel took the beer and sipped it. Madigan’s mouth hung open in  surprise.

“Angels drink?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Michel said with a smile, taking another swig.

“Speak for yourself. Wouldn’t touch the stuff,” Bren grumped.  His mom handed him a glass of what appeared to be milk. Now that  was weird. Madigan had expected him to be the drinker.

“You want some chocolate to go into that, hon?” Mom asked as  Bren took a long gulp. So it
 
had
 
been milk.

“No, thanks. I like it better without.” This was all too weird.

Madigan watched as she handed Dex a glass of sweet tea and  Cross a glass of water. She disappeared out the door again, probably to go get the coffee she’d promised him.

“I know this is all very strange to you, Madigan,” Cross began.

Madigan let a strangled laugh escape. “You have no idea how strange this all seems.”

“You are not the first nephilim to go through this sort of thing.  Granted, the protection you’ve been given is fierce, but that is because your father cares about you very much.” Cross’s voice was soothing, but Madigan wasn’t in the mood to be placated.

“For someone who cares so much, he hasn’t done a great job of showing up and playing dad.”

“He didn’t want to draw the attentions of the hunters to you. He hoped that you would be able to remain under the radar for as long as possible. He stayed away for your protection, and when he found out

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that you still needed it, he sent us,” Cross persisted. “He picked me  out of his choir because I’m one of the only healers who is also a  warrior.” He nodded in Michel’s direction. “I may not belong to the  Archangel of War himself, but I can hold my own.”

“Awesome. Glad to be surrounded by such awesome studs. I’m  not that hard of a sell, Cross. I get it. You guys are badasses. Now  what?” Madigan just wanted to know when he could get his life back.  Everything from the past eight hours needed to hurry up and run its

course.

It was then his mother decided to come back into the room. She

handed him a steamy cup of coffee already mixed to his likings and  sat in the middle of the angels with two on each side. She looked  completely at ease there. His day really could not get weirder.

“Now you get to hole up in this house until your other guardian  Yuri finds the answer to a temporary means of protection.” She  answered his question without missing a beat. The angels all turned  and looked at her in unison. She smiled at them. “Raphael gave me  the plan before you all got here so that I could make my own plans.”

“Why did he not contact Dex?” Cross demanded. He seemed  disturbed at being left out of the loop.
 
Welcome to my friggin’ life,  Red.

“It’s dangerous for him to communicate with any of you right  now. The hunters have spies even in the upper realms now, according  to Raph.”
 
Good lord, my mother just called the Archangel of healing  “Raph.”
 
“So he told me to pass on his messages to you all so that it’s  less likely to be intercepted. It’s rather like a James Bond movie, you  know?” The angels stared at her blankly, and his mother pressed on.  “He’s declared this house as a Den of Sanctuary. He said you’d all  knew what that meant.” The angels nodded.