The Guardians: An Urban Fantasy Romance (7 page)

BOOK: The Guardians: An Urban Fantasy Romance
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She cocked her head at him, eyes narrowing on him in curiosity. “You looked away?”

“I didn’t go to Temptations tonight to drool over you. I came to recruit you for an important cause. Didn’t seem appropriate to watch.”

Her gaze held his and she regarded him for a moment without speaking. You are a surprising person, Jack,” she said with a shake of her head, her voice low.

He didn’t know what to say. The truth was, now that he’d seen her wearing next to nothing, he found himself wondering why he hadn’t watched. She had a beautiful figure; all lithe curves and legs that went on for days. Reminding himself of the last time he’d mixed his duty with pleasure, he shook his head and broke her stare. As attractive as Addison was, he couldn’t let her distract him from what needed to be done. Most of all, he didn’t need the complications she presented. A normal life could never be possible as long as he had a Naphil hanging around. Better to finish the mission and part ways as soon as possible … better for everyone involved.

The bathroom door opened, the sound of Micah’s heavy footsteps crossing the hall to his room before the door slammed.

“Bathroom’s free,” he said. “If you want, you can have it next.”

“No. You’re the one that got covered in demon blood. I’m happy to wait.”

Nodding, he turned and opened a drawer to retrieve pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He turned to find Micah standing in the doorway, barrel-wide chest bare, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Damp hair clung to his forehead and neck as he came into the room, extending a small bundle to Addison silently.

Standing, she gave him a wary glance as she reached out to accept it. “What’s this?”

“Figured you’d need ’em,” Micah answered in a gruff tone, “since we took you before you could gather clothes and all.”

She gave him a tentative smile as she unfolded the bundle to reveal a woman’s t-shirt and gym shorts. “Thank you, Micah. That’s very sweet.”

Micah responded with a low grunt as he turned his back on them and lumbered down the hall. In the kitchen, Jack could hear him go to the refrigerator—likely to retrieve one of his many mason jars.

“See, he does like you,” he teased as he gathered his own clothes and turned to leave.

He just doesn’t want to.

Neither did Jack, if he was being honest with himself. But then, it was far too late for that.

Chapter 8: Beignets and Broken Dreams

 

Addison woke up the next morning to the sound of pots and pans banging together and the low hum of masculine voices. It was so jarringly different from waking up in her quiet apartment that it took her a moment to realize where she was.

As she lay in that groggy state of awareness between wakefulness and sleep, the events of last night came rushing back to her in a blur. In the midst of the haze, Jack and Micah stood out in clear relief. Partners, they’d called themselves, but two more opposite men couldn’t exist in the world. Yet, she had watched them fight together like old battlefield buddies and interact like brothers. She’d never experienced that kind of camaraderie with anyone, and she envied that.

After a while, she recognized their voices as the ones filtering beneath the door. As she drifted to full wakefulness, she also registered the aroma of something delicious being cooked. Her stomach responded with a loud rumble—she hadn’t eaten anything since before her shift the previous night. Hunger seemed to fade when your life was being turned upside down by two supernatural beings who risked their lives to help you escape from a horde of demons.

Remembering the attack left a sour taste in her mouth. While the two Guardians had fought to protect her, she’d cowered under a table. Though, maybe cowering wasn’t the right word for it. During her time there, she had watched the scene before her with interest, her mind filling with images of a different outcome. All it had taken was a split second in which she’d let her guard down, and her thoughts became overwhelmed by dark imaginings. The thought of wreaking a little havoc of her own on the little demonlings had brought her a satisfaction she’d never known. Her fingers had itched with power held in check, just waiting to surge and take them all out in a tidal wave of mayhem. The thought of all that black blood drenching her hadn’t been repugnant; it had been … seductive … irresistible.

She’d done what she always did when faced with dark thoughts—closed her eyes and fought them down until they retreated back into the dark abyss of her soul. Now that she knew the truth of where she came from, she understood it all so much more. She was half demon. It must be in her nature; there could be no other explanation for it.

She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

Why me? Why would you want someone with the thoughts of some kind of deranged serial killer?

As always, God remained silent. If it weren’t for the fact that she’d met a real, live angel, she would have continued in her belief that He didn’t exist. Now, she supposed He did exist, yet had no interest in communicating with her, or giving her any indication that He cared at all.

“He chose me,” she whispered out loud.

You will fail … just as you’ve always failed. You’re nothing … no one.

Ironically, the voice of doubt that clouded her thoughts was that of her stepfather. The cadence of his voice drumming against her skull brought back memories better left in the past. With a sharp gasp, Addison squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out images of calloused fingers reaching for her, the feel of them on her skin. The smell of cigarette smoke and liquor-laced breath in her face. Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus on the enticing scent floating into her room, the sound of the mingled voices bringing her back into reality and out of the past.

Leaping from the bed, she bolted for the door, glad for once she wasn’t all alone. Something about last night’s demon attack had awakened something in her. The memories she’d tried to block out were forcing themselves to the forefront of her mind, her dark desires never far from her thoughts.

Twisting the hem of the tank top Micah had lent her, she made her way through the apartment and toward the kitchen. The windows in the living room and kitchen had been thrown open, and the sounds of the Big Easy filled the small space. In the distance, the resonances of a French horn flitted on the air, the rousing melody of ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’ bringing a smile to her face. She now recognized the sweet smell that mingled with the strong aroma of coffee … beignets. She neared the tiny kitchen just in time to see Micah dusting powdered sugar over the fresh-fried pastries.

“Good morning.”

She jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice, even though she’d known he must be in the kitchen. What about him made her feel so on edge? Her breath caught as she turned to find him standing on the other side of the room, pouring coffee into one of three chipped ceramic mugs.

“Good morning,” she answered, hoping she didn’t sound as shaken as she felt. As it was, her heart had just leapt up into her throat.

“Coffee?” he offered, sliding one of the mugs toward her. She accepted it with a smile. “Micah made beignets from scratch.”

Addison lifted her mug and took a sip. Strong and black, just the way she preferred it. “Wow, I haven’t had homemade beignets since before I left home.”


Mais
, even a demon has to eat, I s’pose,” Micah muttered as he slid the plate piled high with powdery beignets across the counter toward them.

“Micah,” Jack hissed, his tone laced with a warning.

She ignored Micah and accepted a paper plate from Jack before taking three of the beignets. After a bite, she gave a happy sigh and licked the powdered sugar from her lips with an exaggerated motion. “Mmmm, not bad for a big, dumb redneck.”

Micah glared at her and stormed from the kitchen, muttering under his breath in Cajun French. She didn’t catch it all, but she did hear the familiar phrase ‘
bonne a rien
’, which just got her hackles up more.

“How can I be good for nothing if I’m God’s chosen one, Micah?” she spat, sneering at the back of his head. “I may not be fluent, by my Nana spoke French … I get the gist of things.”

Micah paused and turned, coffee cup in hand. “My
mamere
always said the Lord works in mysterious ways … whatever His reasons are, I sure don’t understand ’em.”

Turning away again, he trampled back toward his room, causing the floorboards to quake with every step. Addison’s smile faded as she turned to find Jack watching them with a scowl on his face.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, lowering her eyes back to her coffee. “The beignets really are good, but he’s starting to get on my nerves.”

Leaning against the counter, she went back to the pastries. Just because Micah was a jackass didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy them.

“Look, I know he’s been hard on you, but Micah … well, he’s complicated.”

She regarded him as she chewed, lost in thought. “I can tell you guys are close.”

He nodded before sliding a few of the beignets onto his own plate. “We are. Like brothers. We’ve been fighting together for seven years.

“Yet, he’s a Southern Cajun, and it’s obvious you’re a Yankee.”

Jack laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

She nodded. “It is to anyone with ears. You’re from New York.”

He nodded, eyebrows raised. “You’re right; I am. Brooklyn, to be precise. You have a good ear.”

“How did that happen, then? You guys are so different.”

“When Michael calls upon the best of the best, you answer no matter where you’re from.”

“Michael?” she asked, recalling the little she knew about the Bible. “As in …?”

“The archangel,” he confirmed. “The very one. He is at the head of our order, he and the other angels of war. When we had that first meeting at the Lady of Our Immaculate Heart church, Micah sat right next to me. Michael told us how hard this mission would be, and gave us all a chance to back out beforehand. Said he wouldn’t hold it against us if we decided we couldn’t do it. I was only eighteen—Micah a few months older—and we were both cocky as hell. Slaying demons was all we wanted to do, so it sounded like fun. Dangerous fun, but still.”

“Do you regret it?”

He lowered his liquid gray eyes to his plate. She couldn’t see them, but his avoidance said more than his words ever could. She could see it before, and it became even more prominent now in the stark light of day.

Jackson Bennett, Jr. had grown tired and jaded.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Forget I asked.”

“No,” he insisted, running a hand over his hair. “It’s okay. I just … no one wants to admit that they’re tired of doing the right thing. You know? That’s like a doctor saying he’s tired of saving lives. Who does that?”

“No doctor has to risk his life and sacrifice everything to operate on a patient,” she pointed out. “You’re no different than young men who risk their lives to go to war. They might go with dreams of glory and honor, but they don’t always return that way. You’re fighting in a war, too, Jack. A war that won’t be over until Armageddon, if I’m understanding things correctly. Even if we get Solomon’s seal, and close the ten portals, this fight doesn’t stop there, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed with a snort and a shake of his head. “I will fight against demons for the souls of mankind until the day I die, if the end of the world doesn’t happen first. If I ever have a son, he’ll in all likelihood do the same. It’s our calling, and it’s also our curse.”

“I don’t know too many people who think of callings and curses in the same way.”

“Give it time,” he countered. “You can always see the curse in a calling.”

She set her now empty coffee cup in the sink and trashed her paper plate. “Speaking of fathers, by the way … do you happen to know anything about mine?”

Jack’s lips tightened a bit at the corners and he watched her, seeming unsure of what to say next. “Are you sure you want to go down that road?”

“Color me curious.” She gave a nonchalant shrug. “Look, not a lot gets to me, okay? I’ve had a crappy life so I’ve come to expect that crappy things will happen to me. Like, for example, finding out that my birth father is a demon. I doubt knowing which demon it is going to give me a case of the vapors.”

He nodded. “I can tell you’re a tough girl, but it’s just that your father isn’t any ordinary demon. He’s one of the biggest, baddest demons around.”

“Isn’t that just typical,” she snorted. “What’s his name?”

“Eligos.” Jack shivered as the name fell from his mouth, and a tremor slid down her spine like an icy drop of water. “Also known as the Great Duke of Hell. He specializes in malice, malcontent, warmongering, and feeding on the darkness within a person. If there is any darkness to be found inside someone, he latches onto it and exploits it.”

Addison wrapped her arms around herself, despite the heat that had her sweating minutes before. “What does he look like?” she asked, her curiosity now in overdrive, despite the fact that the mere mention of his name had her shaking.

“Ugly as sin, no pun intended. Like a mummified human skeleton with strips of flesh still hanging around here and there. Empty eye sockets, flames burning in the depths. Kind of like Ghostrider, but way less cool.”

She scowled at that. “There’s no way,” she protested. “My mother might be a drug addict with poor taste in men, but even she wouldn’t sleep with a guy who looks like that. Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake.”

“No mistake. All demons and angels can take on a human form at will. It would have been easy for him to get to her. Demons are hideous in their true forms, but they know how to make themselves, and their vices, attractive. Your mother wouldn’t have stood a chance, especially if she didn’t know he was a demon.”

Remembering her mother’s strange behavior whenever the subject of her father was mentioned, she shook her head. “Maybe not,” she mused out loud. “But she knew something. I need to talk to her.”

“There’s no time. Reniel will be here soon to meet with us about the next part of our mission, which will be getting you to the ring. In the meantime, Eligos and the others are sure to know that you’ve been chosen to wield the seal. Which means last night was just a preview of all you’re in for. They’ll be coming for you, which is why I can’t let you out of my sight for a second.”

“I know you have a job to do, but I just found out my entire life is a lie. You may not think so, but I believe I’m entitled to the whole truth. You know a lot, but there are things I need to understand that only my mama can tell me.”

Jack breathed a heavy sigh, his jaw ticking in annoyance. “Of course I agree that you’re entitled to the truth, but there isn’t time. Can’t it wait until after?”

“After I’ve risked my life for the human race and maybe even died for a cause I knew nothing about a few days ago? Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m going, Jack, whether you come along or not.”

Without giving him a chance to answer, or to try and stop her, she turned on her heels and marched back toward his bedroom.

 

***

 

Jack tried not to watch the sway of Addison’s hips as she walked, but it was damned hard. For one thing, her shorts were way too short. Not that it was her fault. After all, they didn’t exactly belong to her. The cutoffs with frayed edges had once belonged to Tracy. Micah hadn’t kept everything, but a few stray items still lay around here and there; the shorts and boots Addison wore among them. Tracy had been petite, and at least two sizes smaller than Addison. With her long legs and curvy hips calling attention to the uneven hemline, Jack found his eyes straying down to her swaying backside more than once as they marched up the narrow, dirt lane leading to Addison’s childhood home.

BOOK: The Guardians: An Urban Fantasy Romance
10.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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