Voluptuous Vindication (8 page)

Sara started to protest, but Arch held up a hand. “In times like these, we just have to make do, whether it's something we would prefer or not. We can't forget that we're fighting for something much greater than ourselves. The rules that used to apply simply don't anymore. Time is running out.”

He looked at Ian, his blue eyes piercing and haunted. “You're going to guard Sara. She has less than thirty days left on this realm. I don't know what it is, but she's going to do something major, and it will have a huge effect on the upcoming Armageddon. Keep her alive until she ascends. Whatever is going to happen will happen in the next four weeks. After it has come to pass, your duties to her will be over with.”

“I just hope I'm around long enough to see it through.”  Sara said, looking uncertain.

“All of us wonder that, at some point or another,” Arch replied cryptically. “It's your destiny, and all of fate is aligning to see it come to pass. This next thirty days won't be easy. Hell is sending out its best fighters, and I'm sending out one of mine. I have faith that he will see you through.”

“Hey, what about me?” Jeremiah huffed, looking back and forth between Arch and Ian. “There's no doubt that I'm one of your most elite Endurers, possibly even
the
best.”

“Your balls are frozen, remember?” Arch bit out, rolling his eyes. “Besides, I've decided to transfer you. It won't be Fiji, but you should find Mexico warm enough.”

“Oh, I love Mexico,” Jeremiah replied, his expression lusty and smug. “The senoritas there are hot-blooded enough to warm even the iciest of men.”

“Just remember your duties, Don Juan,” Arch warned the Spaniard, his expression serious. “This is no time to play around.”

“Of course,” Jeremiah agreed, all business. “I made a vow the day I became Endurer, one I will fulfill until my dying day.”

“Good. Go home and pack. I'll call you tomorrow.”

He stood, eager to comply. With a nod, Jeremiah left, the door slamming behind him.

Arch watched him leave, turning back to Sara and Ian. “God help Mexico,” he said, chuckling. “Not to mention, the women.” He finished off the rest of his coffee before asking, “Do either of you have any questions?”

Ian did, but he held them back. He was furious at being assigned to Sara's protection, but after hundreds of years, he knew Arch wouldn't change his mind. “No, sir,” he replied, sarcastically.

“Alright,” Arch said, standing to his feet. “I'll leave you to it. You have my number. Call it if you need to.”

Sara looked at Ian, her face blanching at whatever she saw in his eyes. He knew he was being  an ass, but he didn't care. Arch had forced this on him, and it wasn't his job to be pleasant. “Grab your things,” he ordered curtly. “It's time to see your new home.”

She quickly complied, avoiding another glance in his direction. Silently, she followed him out into the cold, dark night.

* * * * *

Arch opened the door to his home, and stepped into nothingness. His mortal form dissolved, leaving behind the clothing he'd been wearing. With just a thought, he found himself in the region of Jerusalem, high above the earth in a realm that mortals couldn't see.

“My Lord,” he acknowledged, entering into the solid gold temple. He was in the presence of the One unseen, his power so great that only the angels were strong enough to endure it. Partially solidifying, Arch knelt and lowered his face to the floor, tears flooding his eyes. It was a relief to his to be back home, the purity and goodness of the One that surrounded him a balm to his weary soul.

Although he'd never admit it to the Endurers, there were times he became so discouraged in the mortal world he wasn't sure he could go on. He'd wept bucketfuls of tears for humanity, spent centuries praying for them, just to be stunned by the sheer, depraved acts perpetuated by some. He couldn't understand how beings created from such good intentions could be so evil.

It was nearly unbearable for him to be in the mortal realm. He was tormented with the knowledge he had, and his ability to see and hear their thoughts and intentions. It was only the purity of the few good mortals that made his job, and his existence, worthwhile.

As evil as the world was, there was still goodness to be found. Hell would scourge the earth, though, until they found them. By the time demons were done with them, they'd make the mortals regret the goodness to be found within them. Only the strong would stand firm, and many didn't have the strength.

It had been the same since the beginning of time, but in the modern ages, it had grown worse. Much worse. Humanity was opening itself up to the persuasions of evil, in fact, they were reaching out for it with both hands. The list of their selfish wants was huge, and demons were standing by, whispering encouragements into their subconscious minds for more.

It was hopeless. If humans were willing to stand up and refute their own selfish lusts and desires, the world would have a chance. They wouldn't, though, and all the Endurers could hope for now would be to protect and save the few that were innocent.

“My son, you are wearied,” a voice said, in a language that could only be understood in the Heavens. “When you grieve, I grieve, too.”

“Forgive me, Father,” Arch said, his voice repentant. “I don't want to sound as if I'm complaining or ungrateful. I've been blessed to be put in charge of the protection of humanity.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” the voice replied. “I'm pleased with all that you have done. All that is coming to pass is not your fault. We all knew one day it would come, which was why I warned the world years ago. I'd hoped they would have heeded those warnings better, but I gave them free will for a reason.  Each soul will have to bear responsibility for the choices they made in their mortal lives. It's not your burden to carry.”

“I'm concerned for Ian,” Arch said, laying his troubles out. “He's so bitter and destroyed. I'm afraid for the angel he's been ordered to care for. I'm not worried he will hurt her physically, but what about mentally? He's not the same. I'm not even sure he's ready to be put back on duty.”

“You doubt the one that you selected? That's not like you, Arch. Look within yourself. That day at the castle, so many mortal years ago, you saw something in him. It convinced you he would be a true soldier of good. I sanctioned his immortality because I saw the same things. I've never known you to be wrong. Have the faith in yourself and your Endurers that I do. It won't lead you astray.”

Amusement filled the unseen form's voice. “Besides, who says this came to pass for Sara's sake? Maybe she isn't the one that really needs saving.”

His words startled Arch. “Do you mean she's not in danger?”

“Oh, no, Sara is in mortal danger, but it didn't have to necessarily be Ian that protected her. I wanted him assigned for a reason. Never forget, Arch. Nothing happens without a reason. All things work together for good in those that believe. Even in the darkest hours, when things seem at their worst, something good is waiting just over the horizon. Sometimes we have to go through terrible times to appreciate the good. Ian won't fail you.”

“Thank you, Father, for relieving my worry,” Arch replied, his voice sincere.

“Before you head back, there's another Endurer I want to speak to you about. His life is fixing to take a turn, an unexpected one. I want you to be prepared for this.”

Arch sighed, his tension returning. “I'm listening.”

Chapter 4

Sara followed Ian into the room, her exhausted mind weary. She was relieved to be out of the elements. The arctic temperatures in Las Vegas were nearly unbearable.

Ian flipped the light on. At her first sight of his penthouse suite, Sara inhaled deeply. They were standing in a marble foyer, the floor gleaming underneath the chandelier lights. Looking past him, she saw a sliding glass door that opened to a large balcony. She was willing to bet Ian had one of the best possible views of Las Vegas.

Her eyes moved to his, temporarily distracted by the sheer extravagance. “This is yours?” She asked incredulously, gesturing about the elegant room. “You live here?”

He stared back at her, his expression bland. Ian was cool and confident, his green eyes full of secrets that would never be shared. Everything about him spoke of power and control. Sara respected that. It wasn't often she came in contact with a male more controlled than she was. Her stomach fluttered at the thought, her body tingling in awareness of his. Her reaction was unexpected... And unwanted.

He stared at her, as if he considered not replying. After a moment, he nodded and said, “This is my home, as is the rest of the resort. I own it all, lock, stock, and barrel.” Coming from another man, it would have sounded like a brag. Coming from Ian, it was matter-of-fact. The luxury didn't appeal to him, one way or another.

It appealed to her, though. She gasped, turning slowly to take in the sheer decadence of the room. Every comfort had been anticipated and provided for, leaving nothing to chance.

Ian took off his coat and tossed it across the back of the leather sofa. “You act as if you haven't seen a penthouse suite before,” he said scathingly as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled them up his muscular forearms. “With your age, you must have amassed a lot of wealth. There's no need to flatter me. I'm sure you're used to every luxury available to man... And then some.”

His words were so harsh Sara froze. If he only knew. Angels weren't sent down rich. They arrived with little more than the clothing on their backs. They were expected to mainstream with humans, finding jobs and blending in. Without college degrees, those jobs were almost always minimum wage. When their jobs were done they left, taking nothing with them. It was a completely different existence from the one that he knew.

Sara swallowed back a harsh chuckle. Her past job titles included seamstress, maid, and waitress. Now she worked in a homeless shelter, barely earning enough to pay for the tiny, one-bedroom apartment she rented. The money didn't matter, though. The work she did was for purposes not of this world, and she was glad to do it. So what if she'd never been inside a penthouse before?

Pulling her shoulders back, she pasted a serene, calm expression on her face. “Could you show me where I'm to sleep? I'm finding myself rather tired from the events of the night.” Her voice sounded  prim and proper, just the way an angel should sound.

He ran a hand through his hair, the action making the loose, wavy curls on top of his head swing free. Sara stared for a moment, transfixed by the sheer perfection of his masculine face and physique. Ian had classic features, elegant and aristocratic. Would she ever cease gaping at him like a foolish schoolgirl with her first crush? Sara ignored the voice in her head reminding her that Ian
was
her first crush.

A fluttering began in the base of her stomach. She pressed her free hand against it, unused to the sensation. Ian immediately noticed the action. “You still haven't ate,” he reminded her, picking up a menu from the bar. “And neither have I. Strangely enough, I find myself hungry.”

“Why's that so strange?” She asked uncomfortably, waiting for him to show her to her room.

He just shrugged, leading the way past the living room area. Opening another door, he revealed a bedroom. “Put your stuff in here, and then look at this menu. I'll call down for room service, and show you the bathroom. You can shower, or whatever you women like to do in there, while we wait for it.”

“Thank you,” she replied stiffly. He stared at her for a moment longer, his expression thoughtful. Heat flooded her body as a blush stained her cheeks. Finally, he turned and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

* * * * *

That night Sara dreamed of Ian, her body responding in a way her conscious mind wouldn't have allowed. He stopped by her bed, wearing an black silk robe. It was short in length, the front left wide open to reveal a chiseled, smooth chest. Underneath it he wore a pair of matching black boxers. The front was tented out, the fabric straining to contain the sheer size of the erection underneath.

They failed. The boxers obviously weren't designed for a well-endowed man like him in mind. His erection pushed past the waist band, the crown wide in girth. Sara's body lit up like a match thrown on paper. Even in her sleep, she could feel the heat spreading across her skin.

“I want you, Sara,” he told her, pulling her pajama shirt off and letting it fall to the ground. “And I mean to have you, right here, right now.”

The bed moved as he lowered his powerful frame down onto its surface. Ian slid into between her quivering thighs, leaning over her until their bodies pressed together. Supporting his weight on his elbows, he smoothed the hair back from her face, his lips only inches from hers. “I'm going to devour you, Angel.”

The firm lips so close to hers was a temptation she didn't have the strength to resist. Pushing up, she pressed her mouth against his, her ankles hooking over the back of his legs. At the first taste, she was lost. Sara felt as if she'd waited a lifetime for him.

Ian's tongue darted boldly against the seam of her lips. Without any hesitation she opened them,  eager to experience the feel of his tongue inside of her. He groaned at her surrender, mastering her mouth as he took control of the kiss.

His hardness was pressed against the center of her body, so large against her untried, feminine core. It had taken thousands of years, but she'd finally met a temptation she couldn't resist. And wouldn't. Groaning, she twined her arms around his neck as she urged his mouth closer.

His body felt so good lying on top of hers, so right. Sara felt alive in a way she never had before, her nerve endings tingling across every inch of her body. If foreplay felt half this good for anyone else, no wonder the mortals were obsessed with sex.

Her hands slid down the silk-covered, muscular flesh of his back, stopping to grip his rock-hard ass. Cupping each cheek, she pulled him deeper into the area between her legs, moaning at the contact. Sara was mindless with need, her body consumed with only one thought. Getting him inside.

“Sweet Jesus,” a voice muttered in her ear. “If you keep that up I'm going to explode, and now is not the best time. Who would have thought that a matronly thing like you would be such a hot piece?”

His voice sounded wrong, too harsh to play any part in the sensual perfection of her dream. Sara frowned before whispering, “Don't talk. Just feel.” Her voice came out breathy, an alluring tone that was completely foreign to her ears. It didn't matter. It was her dream, and she could sound any way that she wanted to.

Ian groaned again. His hand slid across her lips as his hips jerked against hers. Sara arched against him in response. If that was his version of feeling, she wanted a lot more of it. “Wake up,” he hissed quietly against her ear. “As pleasant as this is, it's a case of wrong place, wrong time.”

Sara fought to hold onto her dream, but there was no stopping the awareness. Her eyes popped opened, horrified beyond belief. She groaned again, this time in disbelief and embarrassment. Her dream had become a nightmare, her fantasy an unwanted reality. Ian's large hand muffled the sound, his green eyes only inches from hers.

“Quiet,” he ordered, looking away. He listened for a moment before looking back at her. “There are demons coming up the elevator now, not to mention the ones on the roof, looking for a way in. We have less than a minute before they are inside the penthouse. Are you awake enough to understand all of this?”

Sara nodded, her breathing harsh. His words had redacted the lust filling her body, leaving nothing but fear and urgency behind. Ian pulled his hand away, lifting off of her body in one smooth motion. Even in the dark, it was clear he was fully dressed. Her fantasy dream had been nothing more than the result of her overactive imagination.  “Grab what you need. There's no time to change. We're going to have to run for it.”

Scurrying of the bed, Sara was quick to comply. Luckily, she'd repacked her bag before going to bed. Sliding her feet into the low-heeled dress shoes she'd worn earlier, she threw her coat on and grabbed her belongings. “I'm ready,” she said quietly, her voice little more than a whisper.

Ian nodded his approval. “I've always liked a woman that understood the value of getting out of my bed just as quick as she'd jumped in it.”

“I wasn't in your bed, and I resent the implication.” Sara bit out, watching as he grabbed a black backpack. He slid it across his back, before pulling his sword free. It was clear he'd planned ahead of time. Had he expected the demons to find her this fast?

Ian raised an eyebrow sardonically at her tone before replying, “You sure could have fooled me. It didn't seem like you were resenting it too much when you had my ass in your hands, your body grinding against my cock. Later, we're going to talk about that. I can't have you groping me every chance you get, but right now, we need to move.”

Sara inhaled deeply, angered and mortified by what he was saying. As if his words conjured up their arrival, the sharp sounds of glass breaking filled her ears. Later was right... If she survived. Her eyes were wide as stared up at him.

“Follow me,” he ordered, twisting the doorknob. “By the sounds of it, I doubt any of the demons are hiding their presence. Regardless, stick close and follow my orders.”

He pulled the door wide open. A demon was creeping down the hallway, zoning in on their exact location. He'd dispensed with his human facade, unconcerned about revealing his true form to an Endurer and angel. It was a grotesque sight as he moved down the hallway on three legs, smiling to reveal black, jagged teeth.

“How convenient,” he rasped out, his voice distorted and hard on her ears. “I didn't even have to bother knocking.”

“Maybe next time you should try,” Ian ground out, raising his sword. “Bad manners just piss me off.” In one powerful leap, he cleared the distance between them. Bringing his arm down, he sliced the demon's head off in one clean motion.

It hit the wall and rolled, coming to a stop by Sara's feet. Steam rose from the dissolving flesh and bone, the smell making her stomach churn. Within minutes, the demon would be nothing more than a nasty black residue.

“Let's go,” he muttered, leading her into his bedroom. He shut the door behind them and locked it, pointing to a door on the opposite side of the room. “That door leads to another room, and that room leads to the main hallway. We are going to go out it and try to avoid the demons. The last thing we need is mass panic on our hands, and that's exactly what will happen if humans see any of this.”

He pulled the door open quietly, checking it out before gesturing for her to follow. Leading her through the darkened room, he repeated his actions at the hallway door. Stepping out, he waited for her to follow before closing the door again.

Holding her arm, they ran down the hallway to the elevators, but Ian bypassed them. Instead he led Sara to the stairwell, opening the heavy metal door. He urged her down the stairs quickly, not speaking again until they stepped out into the dark, cold night.

“Where are we going to go?” Sara asked, holding her side as she breathed hard. It sounded loud and harsh, while he stood perfectly composed. Even more mortifying, Sara had groped him in her sleep, making it perfectly clear to both of them that she was experiencing some type of idiotic attraction. Never had she been more humiliated in her life. Scratch that, the entire night had been humiliating. Would it never end?

He released her arm, motioning for her to follow him down the sidewalk. “Las Vegas isn't safe anymore, not for you. I can guarantee that every demon in the city is on the hunt for you. We're going to have to leave town and go on the run. It's your only possible hope for staying alive.”

She stopped, refusing to budge. He turned and shot her an impatient look, grabbing her arm again to urge her forward. Sara yanked it away from his grasp, nearly dropping her briefcase in the process.