My Avenging Angel (5 page)

“Love?” Zadkiel questioned, forcing Michael’s attention back to his second and the smirk plastered across his face. Frowning, Michael took a threatening step toward him, but Zadkiel only added, “Not quite the big scary archangel now that I’ve really seen how you treat humans.”

“You will show some respect to my mate,” Michael snarled before his brain caught up with the anger consuming him. Zadkiel’s eyes widened and Michael cursed. That was the last thing he’d wanted to admit to anyone.

“Shit. You’re sure?” At Michael’s arched brow, Zadkiel nodded. “Of course you are. Now I understand why this has become such a priority. Any idea why Asmodeus is after her?”

“No, all I have is conjecture. Tory believes her father was a warlock, which explains the power she is coming into. And as I’m sure you have noticed, what she has, she has in abundance. So I have two theories. Either her father made a blood pact with Asmodeus, and the bastard believes Tory, as his only descendant, is responsible for fulfilling it. Or he knows she is coming into her power and thinks to take it for his own. But I will not allow him to succeed.”

“Well, of course not. And it won’t hurt giving her a little Ambrosia.”

Michael snorted, turning his back on Zadkiel. Ambrosia, nectar of the gods. Little could Homer have known how literal such a statement was when he’d coined the phrase all those centuries ago. And completely against the laws of Heaven.

“I will hardly be able to enforce a law I have myself broken.”

“Neither can we afford for you to end up like Gabriel,” Zadkiel said quietly. “I do not see how you have any choice.”

Yes, he could justify the action that way, but it still would not make it any less wrong. Ambrosia was nothing but a pretty word for angel blood. Quite by chance, many millenniums ago, it had been discovered a few drops could make a human immortal. But too much had devastating effects, turning the human into an abomination. A vampire. Even Gabriel had feared the consequences, never taking such drastic steps to prolong Ariadne’s life.

Though maybe he should have because the thought of losing Tory the way Gabriel had Ariadne twisted deep in Michael’s gut. He wasn’t sure he could be so noble.

A wave of gut-wrenching remorse swept over him and Michael instantly recognized from where it had come. Tory. She needed him.

“We both have our own responsibilities. Yours is tracking Asmodeus. Mine is taking care of the woman in there,” Michael said, waving a hand toward the bathroom door. “Let me know if you discover anything new, but right now I need to concentrate on Tory.”

He didn’t bother to wait for a reply. In his desperate need to reach her, he just left Zadkiel standing there. It was vexing really. Had it been any one of his warriors, Michael would not have hesitated reprimanding for such an action. But the shoe was on the other foot now, and Michael could not deny he was operating in ways completely out of character for him.

Michael found Tory sitting on the toilet seat, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and though she didn’t make a sound, tears streamed slowly down her cheeks. His heart lurching, he hesitated only a moment, uncertain how he should proceed as he watched her rocking slowly back and forth. What did he know of easing a human’s pain? Hell, what did he know of offering comfort to anyone?

But she was his mate.

Kneeling before her, Michael did not even think she realized her actions when she leaned into him. It was the most natural thing in the world to gather her into his arms. The one thing he’d feared had become the most treasured.

He’d be breaking one of his people’s oldest covenants by feeding her Ambrosia. In that, Michael knew he had no choice. He only prayed his motives would be deemed pure enough to be forgiven.

Settling on the floor, he shifted Tory onto his lap, cradling her against his chest, surrounding her with his warmth. She sank into him, giving her weight up into his protection and that measure of trust twisted something inside Michael, invoking a feeling he’d never encountered.
Could this be love?

He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Tory in his arms. He still wanted her. His dick had grown hard the minute he’d stepped into the bathroom, but this was different. The harsh bite of arousal was gone. It was more subtle and not wholly unpleasant. Murmuring into her hair, he rocked her gently until her trembling began to subside and she finally grew still.

“We will find him,” Michael said quietly.

At first a sniffle was the only reply. Then in a whisper, Tory asked, “But how many more will die because of me?”

“My love, you have no more control over life and death than do I. Who’s to say it wasn’t their time? And they are in a better place.”

“Are they? Really?”

“I would like to think so. They are at peace. No more suffering, no more pain.”

Tory snorted. His kitten was getting back her claws.

“But no life. You’re just dead?”

“It is a different reality, love, but still an existence.”

“Will you tell me about it?” she asked, her tone filled with a longing that tugged at Michael’s heart strings. If he got his way, death would be something she’d never experience. Not first hand, at least.

“Later. But for now I want you to rest. We will need to be prepared once darkness falls. We might not know Asmodeus has found you until he is upon us, and I do not want you encumbered by fatigue.”

Tory did not argue, which Michael saw as verification of her exhaustion. Nor did she utter a protest when he rose with her held tightly against his chest and left the bathroom. Ever so gently, he laid her on the bed then followed her down, unwilling to relinquish the feel of her body next to his. And it would make what he planned that much easier.

Grimacing against the pain, Michael bit down on the top of his tongue hard enough to draw blood. As the honeyed taste filled his mouth, he lowered his head, his lips covering Tory’s. Then, running his tongue along the seam of her lips, he tried to coax a response, to no avail.

Framing her face with his hands, he whispered, “Open for me, love.” Gently applying pressure on her chin with his thumbs, he was filled with jubilant triumph when she complied. Michael groaned as her tongue tangled with his before sweeping inside her mouth, making certain his essence mingled with her saliva.

What he would have given to get lost in Tory’s arms, but he couldn’t risk her consuming too much of his blood. Michael pulled back, his breath see-sawing from his lungs, his dick throbbing with unfulfilled desire. Glancing down, his eyes met green ones brimming with tears and it was like a punch in the gut.

“Tory?”

“I know I’m nothing more than an imposition, a vow forced upon you by Ari, but please don’t leave me,” she whispered, tripping over the words as one tear slid slowly down her cheek.

Brushing away the offending wetness with his thumb, Michael stared dumbstruck, only realizing he’d taken too long to respond when, with what sounded like a soft sob, Tory attempted to push him away. But refusing to budge, he pinned her squirming body to the mattress with his hips nestled between her thighs and her breasts pressed firmly against his chest. Her lush heat burned him through his jeans, cradling his dick with the promise of paradise. The vow to Ari was one Michael could definitely get behind.

“Ari does not belong here in our bed, Victoria. Now or ever.”

Michael didn’t know what reaction he had expected from his mate, but her hand connecting with his cheek was not one of them. It completely blindsided him, allowing Tory to push him off her and gain her freedom.

“Then where does she belong, Michael? Because I got the feeling you two were awfully close.”

For one stunned moment, Michael tried to come to terms with the words Tory had snarled at him. Standing beside the bed, fists clenched in jealous anger, she was a sight to behold, revving up his desire a notch or two to where the only thing that mattered was getting her back under him. Then the implication of her insidious taunt sunk in. He must have misunderstood her meaning.

“Exactly what are you accusing me of, Tory?” he demanded quietly.

Chapter Five

Tory swallowed heavily. The pain lining Michael’s face hit her full force in the chest, frightening her with the urgent desire to return to his arms, to ease the hurt she’d caused. Stumbling back a step, she refused to give in to the need. He could easily be playing her. For all she knew, Michael could be a real Casanova, his one and only desire to get into the pants of every woman he encountered. Though her body was screaming he was different, that what was between them was special, Tory was short on trust, and at present her faith in her own intuition was in short supply.

“Did you betray Gabriel? Is that why you feel such guilt over Ari’s death?”

“Guilt? You think I what, fucked Gabriel’s mate and once he discovered the truth he killed her?”

Blue eyes filled with rage centered on her, making Tory want to slink off into a corner and hide. It took every ounce of fortitude to hold her ground, to shrug her shoulders nonchalantly like the prospect of Michael’s affirmation wouldn’t destroy her.

Michael took a deep shuddering breath, rolling from his lounging position on the bed to sit on the edge of the mattress. Elbows centered on his thighs, his hands ripped through his hair before coming to rest on the back of his neck, his gaze locked firmly on the floor. “You know nothing of mates,” he stated quietly. “But soon that will all change.”

Michael’s head lifted and Tory read the promise in his eyes. She turned to flee, only to be caught in the steely grip of his arms wrapping around her, her back braced against his chest. Squirming in an attempt to gain her freedom only seemed to make him more determined to keep her prisoner. His hold tightened as a set of teeth sunk into the tendons where her neck met her shoulder. The bite wasn’t hard enough to draw blood but it drew a primitive instinct in her and Tory relaxed against him with a shudder.

“I do feel responsible for Ariadne’s death,” Michael whispered, his lips gently kissing away the sting of his bite. “But not in the way you think, love.”

Michael’s arms slid away from her. He stepped back and, with some reluctance, Tory allowed him to turn her. She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to face him, afraid of what she would read there. It would take an idiot not to have noticed the guilt smoldering in his blue orbs every time Ari’s name was mentioned.

His hand caressed her cheek, leaving a trail of goose-bumps as his fingers slid slowly down her neck and arm, stopping only when he reached her hand. Entwining their fingers, he led Tory to the bed, giving her arm a quick tug, sending her tumbling to the mattress next to him. With his body turned toward her, Michael drew her palm to his lips, placing a kiss in the center before pinning her hand over his heart.

“Many factors led up to Ariadne’s death, so I will only give you the basics. But none of it had to do with betraying Gabriel. When Gabriel asked that I allow her to be trained as one of my hunters, I agreed for purely selfish reasons. The lifespan of a human hunter is not long and in the woman’s death, I saw Gabriel’s freedom.” Michael gave a harsh bark of laughter. “How naïve I was thinking Gabriel would continue on as if she had never existed.”

The look of anguish on Michael’s face shattered the place deep inside her where fear and distrust had long resided. She cupped his cheek with her free hand, exalting in the way he leaned into her touch as if she had the power to heal him. It would only be fitting since he’d managed to free her from the baggage she’d been carrying since childhood.

“Hunting demons is a dangerous business. You can hardly be blamed for Ari’s death.”

“It is not her death putting a wedge between Gabriel and me. It’s what I said later, the callous words I spoke for which he has never forgiven me. And I cannot blame him.”

“What did you say?” Tory probed gently, but Michael only shook his head.

“I do not want you to hate me too,” he whispered.

“That will never happen,” she stated, her voice filled with absolute conviction. She didn’t think there was anything he could say to change how she felt about him. Not that she wanted to examine too closely what her feelings were. Tory wasn’t ready to admit them even to herself.

Unable or unwilling to meet her gaze, Michael stared down at their joined hands and Tory thought he wasn’t going to respond. Then he spoke, so softly Tory had to strain to make out the words.

“I told him he was better off without the human to distract him. There were plenty of females with which he could scratch an itch. He didn’t need Ariadne.”

“Ouch,” Tory murmured, wondering how Gabriel had taken such a pronouncement. Probably not very favorably.

“How the hell was I to know?” Michael cried. With a growl, he attempted to pull away from her, to put some distance between them, but Tory feared if she released the tight grip on his hand she would lose whatever was growing between them.

“How were you to know what?” Tory demanded.

“How the hell was I to know my mate would complete me in ways I’d never even suspected I needed?”

With those harshly snarled words, Michael crushed Tory to him, his lips demanding entrance, which she immediately gave. His tongue swept into her mouth, drawing a moan from her throat. Clothing was tossed aside with little finesse, the urgency having taken hold of Michael, leaving Tory feeling a little lost as he pushed her flat on the mattress, rising over her.

He brushed her hair from her face as his gaze swept over her slowly. “Christ, you’re beautiful. My mate. My love.”