“With pleasure.” His clever fingertips stroked a circular pattern over the tender flesh behind her ear. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
She met his fierce gaze and held it. “I love you.”
“I know.” Adrian’s smile was so potently sexual and warmly tender that she grew slick between the thighs.
“And I want you again. Now.”
“Always. I’m yours.” He glanced at the dashboard clock. “We have just enough time before the others catch up with us.”
They’d taken off an hour and a half before the two lycans who would be accompanying them, so they’d be assured of privacy. Then she’d messed it al up by fal ing asleep only a couple of hours into the drive.
Her nose wrinkled. “How are you going to get anything done once I get to the point where I don’t need sleep anymore? I can’t keep my hands off you.”
He exited the car and rounded the hood to her door before she could blink. His laughter sifted through her mind as he extended his hand to assist her out. “What we’l do with each other during sleepless nights isn’t a concern I’m ever going to have.”
Looking at the lovely but average house in front of her, she asked, “What is this place?”
“Helena’s home.”
Lindsay’s hand tightened on his. She knew how it tormented him that he’d lost one of his closest and most treasured Sentinels.
“We’re staying here? Maybe the Mondego would be better?” she suggested, thinking of the glamorous hotel and casino owned by Raguel Gadara, a man known worldwide as a real estate and entertainment mogul. In celestial circles, he was known to be one of the seven earthbound archangels, his territory encompassing al of North America. Fal ing two spheres and several rungs lower in the angelic hierarchy than Adrian, Gadara was ambitious in both halves of his life.
“After the stunt he pul ed last time? No.” While his voice didn’t rise, the adamancy in it was unmistakable. “Raguel’s more trouble than he’s worth.
I just want his blood.”
A chil rol ed down Lindsay’s spine. The way Adrian spoke sounded figurative as wel as literal, which would be bad news for Gadara. She wondered if Adrian’s enmity had anything—or everything—to do with Gadara helping her flee Adrian and her forbidden feelings for him so many weeks ago.
“Raguel makes enough trouble for himself on his own,” Adrian answered. Linking their fingers, he led her to the front door.
The strengthening of his grip on her hand wasn’t an indication of disquiet, but she knew visiting this place must be hard. Helena had been special to him. She’d been a Sentinel Adrian considered pure of purpose and unshakable in her faith. She had been his proof that the Sentinels weren’t destined to fail their mission as a rule, that his transgressions with Shadoe and herself were unique failures of his.
But Helena had fal en in love with her lycan guard and she’d given up her life trying to be with him, shattering that tender hope.
Adrian unlocked the door and they stepped inside. As he typed the access code into the beeping security system keypad, she frowned. “Is someone staying here?”
His gaze raked the room. “Good question. Nice and cool in here, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, my thought exactly—why is the air-conditioning on?”
Skirting him, Lindsay moved deeper into the living room. A glass walkway bisected the vaulted ceiling, connecting rooms over the garage with a room over the kitchen. Square windows near the ceiling al owed light to flood the space, creating an open and airy feel in the smal , welcoming home.
Her nose twitched and she caught his wrist, pushing her thoughts at him. Doesn’t smell musty, like you’d expect a closed-up house would. The plants are looking healthy, too.
Sleek tendrils of smoke unfurled from his back, taking on the shape and substance of wings. Gorgeous, bloodstained wings. They were soft to the touch, but deadly, capable of slicing through anything with the precision of the finest sword. If she was ever inclined to forget how dangerous he truly was, those wings would remind her—she’d watched him deflect bul ets with them. He was a being created for war, an enforcer of such power he wielded the fist of God.
I’ll take the upstairs, he said. Please be careful.
Not for the first time, Lindsay wondered if he knew how much his trust in her ability to defend herself meant. He was a possessive man and one who was ferociously concerned for her wel -being, yet he knew that to hold her back or smother her would only lead to resentment and unhappiness.
She wasn’t equal to him and never would be, but she couldn’t hide behind his wings and stil look at herself in the mirror. As disparate as their skil s and natural weapons were, they had to face their battles side by side or there would be no hope for them as a couple. Adrian understood and made concessions for that tenuous balance between them, even though she knew it cost him dearly to do so.
Concentrating hard, she got her fangs and claws to extend. She was stil getting used to what she was—a monster; one of the bloodsucking creatures she’d trained herself to kil in vengeance for her mother’s murder. Making peace with her new identity was difficult at the best of times, but there were occasions—such as this one—when she appreciated the benefits.
Adrian moved quickly and silently, one moment at her side, the next on the glass walkway above her. If transients had holed up in the house, they were about to receive the fright of their lives. Perhaps that would teach them not to squat in someone else’s abode.
Lindsay entered the combination family room/kitchen through an open archway. The space was smal but cozy. A dinette fil ed the alcove in front of a backyard window and a couch faced a flat-screen TV hung over a smal gas fireplace. A homey fragrance hung in the air, soothing her enough that her claws retreated without her volition. She was trying to process her lack of control over her body when a photo of Adrian and Helena on the mantel caught her eye, momentarily distracting her. It was a costly lapse.