Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) (48 page)

God. She wanted to taste him. And make him just as crazy as he’d made her.

She caught his face, her palm cupping his hard jaw, her thumb at the corner of his lips. Voice husky with renewed desire, she said, “Let me use my mouth and make it up to you.”

His hand clenched in the hair at her nape. “You will.”

But he didn’t let her move. His fingers withdrew from her sheath and rose to her mouth, painting more moisture across her lips. His hungry gaze followed the trail of his fingertips.

“I’m going to taste you again, Andromeda.” Another groan escaped him as he leaned in, each word heavy with need. “Let me have five minutes. Then pull me away.”

Letting himself lose just a little control.
Finally.
Taylor didn’t care if it wasn’t the way she suggested. Whatever pleased him most.

This obviously did. As soon as she nodded, his mouth slanted over her lips. A dark, ravenous growl vibrated through his chest. Without warning, Caelum tilted around her and Michael bore her to the ground. His heavy weight settled between her legs. She moaned, arching against him. Broken marble pavers seemed to soften beneath her back, sharp edges smoothing. Michael pushed her thighs farther apart and rocked, the ridge of his cock riding over her sex, his mouth devastating her senses.

And she was going to lose it again. God. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she moved with him, empty and aching but just as hot as before, hotter.

Yet different. Through the haze of need she felt the change in him. Still focused on driving her to the brink and taking his pleasure from hers, though now he took more for himself. There was still so much hunger, so much heat. But now there was longing, too—painful and sweet. A hum that lay beneath his moans and filled her chest with unbearable emotion. A song she didn’t know that left her clinging to him, needing him like never before, desperate to hold on to him forever.

And with no idea why tears were filling her eyes and sliding down her cheeks.

Five minutes might have passed before she came, her senses aflame and her heart bursting. Maybe it was longer. Body tight, she sensed her orgasm roll through him, the flush of heat and bliss, as if feeling her go over had pleased him just as well.

He still didn’t come. And he never stopped kissing her.

Gently, she tugged him away. Michael shuddered and buried his face in her neck before rolling onto his back, holding her against his chest while their bodies quieted, her thighs straddling his hips. Between her legs, the erection behind his trousers softened, though he’d never reached that peak.

But maybe it wasn’t a peak. He’d told her that this was like throwing himself into an abyss. Maybe an orgasm wasn’t a matter of going over. Maybe he just never hit bottom.

His heart had regained an even beat by the time he spoke against her hair. “All right?”

“Yes.” She lifted her head to look down at him. “I don’t think it was five minutes.”

But she didn’t yet bother to check. There was probably still time before they had to go to Seattle. They weren’t in a rush.

“I didn’t intend more than a kiss. I had another reason to bring you here.” His chest rose on a heavy sigh. “My control isn’t what I would like.”

“It’s all right.”

“No, it isn’t.” His gaze fell to her lips, still tender and swollen. “Know that if ever I do not kiss you, it’s not for lack of wanting. I just don’t dare.”

No one had ever wanted her like this. Heart too full to respond, it was a long second before she managed, “Does it bother you—that I threaten your control?”

“No. Wanting you so much pleases me beyond saying. I only wish my strength matched my need.”

And Taylor wished that his need overcame his control. Maybe. With someone of his strength, she should probably be careful what she wished for.

Rising, Michael offered a hand and helped Taylor to her feet—standing in her panties in the middle of his broken temple.

She traded her underwear for a new pair and formed pants suitable for work in Seattle. “So what are we here for?”

“Caelum.”

Learning to rebuild the realm. Pushing a hand through her tangle of hair, Taylor swept her gaze across the ruins. An entire city, broken and shattered—and the last time she’d looked at it, she’d felt the same way.

Not any longer. But Michael really thought she’d create such beauty again with her voice? He’d obviously never heard her sing.

This wasn’t going to be easy. “You apparently didn’t think I was frustrated enough in San Francisco.”

He grinned. “I do like you frustrated. But I like to see you satisfied better.”

She liked it better, too. “All right. So what do I do?”

Michael didn’t answer immediately. Because he’d never had to explain it before, she realized. Frowning, he looked out over the ruins. “I can’t find the words for that, either. It is much like reaching for a Gift, but that power is only a part of you. Caelum is all of you.”

“Okay.” That didn’t help a bit.

He tried again. “Imagine what you want her to be. Then sing what you feel.”

“What song?”

“Any song. Can you feel her?”

“Sometimes.” She sank to her heels, pressed her hand to the broken pavers. “Not inside me. But when I touch her.”

Like now. That odd, warm sensation of marble fitting to her palm, pushing back against her. Taylor couldn’t have sworn the stone did, though. When she looked, nothing had changed. The feeling might have been her imagination.

“She’s within you. And she’s a reflection of you.” Michael crouched beside her. “See her in your mind. Sing.”

Closing her eyes, Taylor pictured his temple as it had been before. The tall columns and their scrolled caps. The frieze on the doors depicting his battle with the dragon. The single, enormous chamber inside, the mismatched antique sofas that she’d spent so many quiet moments on, wondering why he’d chosen them. The collection of weapons in the sparring area, blades gleaming and handles worn smooth.

All of that lay beneath the rubble now. But she remembered it so clearly.

Focusing, she sang,
“La la la la la.”

His deep, harmonious laugh broke through her last
la
. “You lack conviction.”

Her chest expanded on a huge breath.
“LA LA LA LA LA!”

“Sing from your gut.” Then, when she belted it louder, laughing so hard that he fell sideways onto his knee. “
Feeling
from your gut.”

“I
am
feeling, goddammit! I
really
want it to happen.” But Caelum didn’t react to the
grrrr
of frustration that escaped her, either. “You sing something to her.”

“Caelum doesn’t listen to me.”

She should. Taylor couldn’t imagine a voice more beautiful than Michael’s. Only a few minutes before, just hearing him
hum
had made her cry.

Taylor tried to recall that song now. Caelum deserved something that beautiful. Replicating it would be impossible—even his hum contained a more complicated harmony than any human voice could sing—but she could tease out the melody.

And maybe she’d been hoping for too much, all at once. Raising his entire temple? No. Baby steps for now.

Closing her eyes, she flattened her hand against the marble again. Humming that song, she tried to feel what she’d felt then, but it wasn’t longing that filled her now. Instead it was the memory of Michael’s kiss. The happiness that rose through her every time she looked at him. The hope of what came next.

She gathered all of that emotion, pictured the stone beneath her palm, and softly sang the words on the same rough melody,
“Come and say hello, Caelum.”

Movement beneath her hand. Stone fingers slipped between hers and gently squeezed.

The marble stilled again.

Astonished, Taylor stared at the small marble statue. A perfect replica of her hand. Holy shit. She’d done it. She still couldn’t feel Caelum inside her—or maybe she just didn’t recognize it—but rebuilding the realm suddenly didn’t seem so impossible now.

And the responsibility of doing it suddenly seemed so much lighter.

Relieved laughter bubbled up. She lifted her gaze to Michael’s. His eyes shone a bright amber.

Fierce pride rang through his voice. “Well done, Andromeda Taylor.”

It
had
been. She couldn’t stop grinning. But she couldn’t take all of the credit. “It was your song.”

“No. It was yours.”

Okay, so she hadn’t copied the melody very well. She wasn’t surprised he didn’t recognize it. “No, I mean it was the song that you hummed when—”

“I know. It was
your
song. Your psychic song.”

And that was what he hummed while kissing her? That was the melody he’d filled with such longing?

A tight fist clenched around her heart. Another fist lodged in her throat. But she didn’t need to say anything—only take a single step forward, and he was there sweeping her up, his mouth claiming hers. Gripping his shoulders, she lost herself again.

It didn’t matter. They had time.

“Oh, shit. Don’t kill me!” Jake’s exclamation pierced the haze of need. Then, “Oh, double shit! Preston? Are you okay, man?”

Joe?
Taylor tore her mouth from Michael’s. He vanished, reappearing fifteen feet away, where Joe had fallen to his knees on the cracked marble steps, his hand against his heart and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Michael eased down beside him. His voice was a warm harmony, laced with command. “Close your eyes, Joseph.”

Taylor had to fight not to close hers; Joe didn’t even blink. Eyes pooling with more tears, his rapturous gaze swept over the realm. “I don’t want to.”

“You need to. Close your eyes.
Now.
”

His chest hitching in a sob, Joe did.

God. Her own throat tight, Taylor tried to breathe again. She’d heard of this. Savi had said it happened to her and Colin, too. Human and vampire, they’d been overwhelmed by Caelum’s beauty—and Michael had told her they’d both been lucky. Some people became completely enraptured upon seeing the realm, and their minds never recovered.

Guardians weren’t affected in the same way. Dazzled by her beauty, yes. But never dangerously so.

“Oh, Jesus. I’m so sorry.” Jake stood with his fingers linked behind his head, his face tight with worry. “I anchored to Taylor. We thought she was still at the new headquarters.”

“It will be all right, Jacob.” Michael’s gaze never left Joe’s face. “When you open your eyes, Joseph, look only to one spot and wait for the rapture to pass before attempting to look anywhere else. Don’t try to see all of her. Caelum doesn’t know how to show herself to those who aren’t Guardians, and she isn’t always kind to those unprepared to see her.”

Taylor laid her hand on a shattered column, felt the response against her palm. “Be nice to him,” she said.

“Yeah. Listen to Taylor, Caelum.” Jake let out a deep sigh and glanced in her direction. His expression froze, gaze fixed on the ground behind her. “Okay. I knew Caelum wasn’t always nice, but she’s never freaked me out before, either. Has that creepy little hand always been there?”

Taylor shoved her fingers in her pockets. Creepy little hand? It wasn’t like they were
tiny
. They were completely normal for a woman of her size. “No. It’s new. And there’s a giant fist behind that wall.”

He vanished and reappeared a second later. “You made those?”

“Yes,” she said, and a little thrill raced through her again. She’d
made
them.

And soon she’d rebuild the rest of the realm.

“So this is what Caelum’s going to look like—a forest of arms and hands, like people trapped in the walls and just waiting to grab us?”

With a laugh, Taylor shook her head. God, she hoped not.

They both turned at the sound of a deep breath. Joe, still kneeling on the steps and preparing himself to look. When Michael reminded him to focus only on one spot, he nodded and opened his eyes again.

His gaze didn’t rise any higher than the nearest column, lying in pieces on its side. Tears roughened his voice. “It’s so beautiful.”

Taylor hunkered down next to him. “It’s a ruin, Joe.”

“No. Oh, Andy.” He gripped her hand. His eyes cleared a little, and he finally seemed to see the shattered blocks, to understand they were broken. The lines in his forehead deepened. “It’s usually more beautiful?”

“A lot more.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“I’m working on it.” She squeezed his fingers. “Maybe as a wedding present. We’ll bring you and my mom. We can prepare you both for it.”

She glanced at Michael, who nodded.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “If you are prepared, there is little danger. And you would not be able to come after your transformation.”

Except into a building, closed away from the sun. Neither one would see anything.

“Me and Carolyn, here together?” Joe’s breath shuddered. “You can’t beat that as a gift.”

Taylor was glad she could offer it. But this wasn’t why he and Jake had come looking for her. “I thought you were interviewing families.”

“I was. And I got your connection to Mark Brandt.”

“What?” Her brain quickly shifted gears. “Someone recognized the vampire who killed him?”

“No. I was telling them it might not have been someone they saw before the murder—that it might have been someone they’d seen around afterward, too.”

Coming back to gloat, or to wallow in the family’s pain. “So who did they see?”

“Well, I got a hunch. So I showed them Mark Brandt’s photo.”

“Brandt?”
Mouth dropping open, Taylor tried to make sense of that. It
didn’t
make sense. But maybe that was the point. “Was it really Brandt, though? Or the demon impersonating him again? Which family was this?”

“I’m guessing the demon. And this was Julian Walker’s sister and mother.”

She recognized the name from the case files. Julian Walker—the second man killed. Almost fourteen months ago in a motel outside Montpelier, he’d been strangled. No broken neck, because the vampire hadn’t yet moved on to that. What had Walker been accused of?

Molestation, she remembered. Accused, never convicted. So the vampire had meted out his form of justice instead.