A Caress of Wings

When he’d looked at her with heat in his eyes, his stunning face made hard by a mortal’s raw desire to mate, she’d felt a quickening in her blood and a terrible yearning for his touch. The soft glide of his tongue and the grip of his hand in her hair had stirred something frightening inside her—the need to submit and surrender, to forsake everything for him.

  She cleared her throat. “He was becoming too attached to me.”

  Carriden rubbed his hand over his jaw, studying her. “It doesn’t matter, Malachai,” he said. “It’s done. Should I take him to the archangel, Siobhán? Or would you rather do it?”

  Gratitude flooded her for his intervention. As far as she was concerned, there was no point in discussing any of this further. She couldn’t change the choices she’d made or how she reacted to them. She could only move forward.

  “If you would, please, Carriden. Thank you. I’ve already called Raguel and discussed it with him. He’s in Las Vegas, but he’s made arrangements for Trevor to be received at his offices in Anaheim. Malachai and I will stay here with Daniela to see if Trevor’s scent stirred anything up.”

  “All right.” The red-haired angel bent down and collected Trevor’s lax body, tossing the mortal over his shoulder. “I’ll call you once I drop him off and see if you want me to come back here or return to Ontario.”

  Reaching out, she touched Carriden’s arm. Could you double-check and make sure I didn’t miss anything in his mind?

  Carriden met her gaze, his own filling with compassion. He nodded. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Siobhán knew her request betrayed her. If she hadn’t been compromised, she wouldn’t fear leaving a piece of herself behind in Trevor’s memories. As it was, she couldn’t be sure she hadn’t and she needed the certainty of knowing that every single recollection and impression of her was wiped completely away. He needed a fresh start, without any possibility that she might inadvertently hold him back.

  When the front door shut behind Carriden, she looked at Malachai. “Where’s Daniela?”

  “Fueling up the van. She should be back soon.”

  “We’ll go out when she returns.”

  Malachai crossed his arms, his chin lifting stubbornly. “Are you okay, Siobhán?”

  “What if I’m not?” she shot back, tired of his poking and prodding. “If you want to call Adrian about me, just do it.”

  “Don’t get pissy. I’m just worried about you.”

  “What does that accomplish? It’s over. I just want to forget about it.”

  He exhaled audibly. “My understanding is that it’s not so easy to get over having feelings. Adrian’s never recovered.”

  “But he’s still effective, isn’t he? He still does what needs to be done. His dedication has never lagged, and neither will mine.”

  “Okay, okay.” Malachai lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m here for you if you need to talk about it. Actually, I wish you would. I’m curious.”

  Siobhán arched a brow at him. “Don’t they say curiosity killed the cat?”

  “I’m not a cat.”

  “No, you’re a pain in my ass.” She turned toward the door as it opened and Daniela walked in. “Let’s go. I need to hunt.”

  * * *

  Aurelia climbed onto a stool beside Siobhán and muttered, “Who knew the lycans were so much better at hunting than we are?”

  She looked up from the slide of lycan blood she was studying to meet her fellow Sentinel’s discouraged gaze. “Still no luck?”

  “Three days and Malachai, Carriden, and Daniela have nothing to show for it.” Aurelia’s gaze roamed over the lab. “Did you see my suggestions for how we might keep some of the subjects alive while conscious?”

  “I did, yes. You pointed out some challenges I hadn’t thought of. Thank you.”

  “You’ve been distracted.” Aurelia’s fingers rubbed absently into the aluminum tabletop. “Do you miss him?”

  “Who?” But she knew, and she looked back into the microscope to hide her face.

  Yes, she missed Trevor. Missed him in the infirmary, where he’d helped her draw blood and replenish intravenous fluids. Missed him in the lab, where his comments and questions about the samples had sparked theories and ideas. Missed him in her room, where he’d been a great sounding board for her and something very pretty to look at . . . So little time and yet they’d shared so much.

  “You know who. The mortal. Trevor.”

  “I hope he’s doing well,” she murmured, her gaze unfocused as a now-familiar loneliness weighed heavily on her mood. She’d never felt alone in all of her existence until now. She couldn’t understand how it was possible to feel that way when she was so often in the company of her fellow Sentinels. “He certainly deserves it.”

  “I’d like to save someone like that. All the way through. You know, from the time I find them until the time they’re ready to go back to living their mortal lives.”

  She looked up again. The difference between her and Aurelia in that moment was so pronounced Siobhán was shaken by it. Aurelia was still pure of purpose, almost childlike in her inability to perceive or empathize with emotions. That brought home just how much Siobhán had changed and how long that gradual alteration must have been occurring.

  The cracks must have been forming for ages. Trevor had simply slid into one with the precision of a honed blade, widening those cracks and making her even more susceptible to his potent affect on her.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Aurelia asked.

  “I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”

  Aurelia’s frown cleared. “I just think it’s great that you know you helped a mortal, because you did it directly. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering if we’re making any difference at all.”

  Siobhán’s cell phone started ringing and she pulled it out of the cargo pocket of her pants. She saw the name on the display and answered, “Hey, Damien. How are you?”

  “As good as can be expected under the circumstances.” Damien’s voice was confident and smooth. It was one of the things she’d always admired about Adrian’s second-in-command—he never got ruffled. “Are you still looking for uninfected vampires?”

  “Yes. Who knew they’d be so hard to find?”

  “That’s the question I’ve been asking recently. It’s been very quiet since the lycans revolted.”

  She straightened. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s probably not. In the interim, I have three vampires here at Angels’ Point.”

  She thought of Adrian’s home, Angels’ Point, a compound in Anaheim Hills that served as headquarters for all Sentinels. It was only a few minutes’ drive from Gadara Tower, where the archangel Raguel based his operations. And where Trevor had been taken.

  But he probably wasn’t there now. He’d likely been absorbed into Raguel’s network and dispatched to wherever a soldier medic would be the most needed. Raguel had his own battles to fight, after all. Still . . .

  “I’ll head down,” she said, glancing at the clock. “I’ll see you around two.”

  “We’ll be expecting you.”

  Siobhán hung up and wondered what she could wear. Her usual military style wouldn’t be appropriate if she was going out in public.

  “Where are you going?” Aurelia asked.

  “To the Point to pick up some vamps.”

  The Sentinel’s face brightened. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Great.” She headed toward the door. “We’ll take off in fifteen.”

  * * *

  Siobhán turned off the main road and began the drive up from the city into the hills where Angels’ Point waited. The distance between sprawling hillside properties widened the higher they climbed until they reached a wrought-iron gate bisecting the road, cutting off further public access.

  On a rough-edged granite slab on the shoulder was sandblasted the words ANGELS’ POINT, which might have seemed welcoming if not for the gatehouse and the big lycan in human form who stepped out of it. She was
able to recognize what he was straightaway because of his size—too large to be aerodynamic—and his electric green eyes, which came from the demon blood that coursed through his veins.

  Knowing they needed to learn from their previous mistakes, she lowered the window of the Mitchell Aeronautics SUV she drove. “Hi,” she greeted him. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here.”

  He blinked, clearly startled by the unusual courtesy from a Sentinel.

  “Thank you for coming back,” Aurelia piped in.

  “Uh . . . okay. Sure.” Looking bemused and wary, he disappeared into the gatehouse and the gate began to open. He offered an awkward wave as they passed him.

  Siobhán drove the mile distance to the house, her eyes searching the hillside for lycans in lupine form and seeing only a few instead of the dozens that would normally dot the landscape.

  Rounding the circular driveway, she parked in front of the entrance to Adrian’s home.

  “I still can’t get over how different this place is without the lycans,” Aurelia said as she hopped out of the passenger door. “It’s so empty and quiet.”

  That’s the way Siobhán had felt since Trevor left, but she kept that to herself, turning her attention to the house instead. The residence scaled the side of the cliff in three tiers, each with its own wide wraparound deck. Distressed wood siding, rock terraces, and exposed wooden beams enabled the house to blend into the hillside.

  Angels’ Point had appeared in numerous architectural magazines and been the focus of a television special on extravagant ecofriendly homes. It was all part of Adrian’s strategy and message to the vampires—I’m here. Take me on.

  One half of the double-door front entrance opened as they approached and Damien filled the threshold. His handsome face was impassive as always, his eyes watchful and his aura as dark as his inky hair. He was an angel well worth having at your back . . . unless you pissed him off. He was ruthless in everything, from the strength of his friendship to the ease with which he cut down his enemies.

  “Siobhán. Aurelia,” he greeted them.

  “You have a lycan at the gate,” Siobhán said.

  “More and more straggle in every day. It seems not everyone was unhappy with the status quo.”

  “And how’s Adrian?”

  Damien’s head tilted to one side, considering. “Hmm . . . Settled, I’d say.”

  Adrian had been conflicted over his love for aeons. Being “settled” was a gift—for him and for all the Sentinels. “That’s good,” she said. “The timing couldn’t be better.”

  “It surprises me to hear you say that. Lindsay is a huge vulnerability.”

  “I know.”

  “Siobhán has her own mortal,” Aurelia interjected. “She understands Adrian better than we do.”

  “I know she does.” Damien’s gaze stayed on Siobhán’s face as he held out his hand and summoned an envelope.

  Taking it from him, she broke the seal. There were photos of Trevor’s sister and her family inside, including shots of his namesake. “You got them. Thank you.”

  “Go ahead and deliver that,” he said evenly. “The vamps are still on their way from Anza, so you have some time.”

  She frowned, confused.

  “Malachai told me about your situation,” he explained. “I understand you need to see the man. You need to make sure he’s doing well and that he doesn’t remember you. So go. When you’re done perhaps you’ll become settled, too.”

  “Thank you, Damien.”

  “I’m learning to adapt to Sentinels and their mortal quandaries.” A slight curving of his lips made her realize the impact Lindsay was having on everyone. “Trevor Descansos won’t know you,” he warned. “Be prepared for that.”

  Her breath caught as comprehension hit. “You’ve seen him.”

  She saw it in his eyes and wondered what Malachai had said about her “situation.” Whatever it was, Damien had taken the trouble to see for himself that Trevor’s mind had been completely wiped of all trace of her.

  Damien gestured for Aurelia to enter the house. “Descansos is leaving California today, Siobhán. Raguel’s going to put him through med school.”

  “Good. That’s good.” That meant Trevor’s life was back where it had been before he was taken—at least as much as it could be considering his former friends and family believed he was dead. She heaved out her breath. “I won’t be long.”

  Aurelia offered an encouraging smile. “See you when you get back.”

  Was it possible to truly go back? Siobhán wondered. Back to the Sentinel she’d been before she’d found the one mortal capable of making her feel . . . human? Did she even want that?

  Perhaps there was no going back for her.

  Chapter 9

  Siobhán couldn’t believe she’d forgotten how impressive Gadara Tower was. Located on Harbor Boulevard south of Katella, the gleaming glass skyscraper was the headquarters of the archangel whose territory encompassed all of North America.

  As she stepped out of the elevator car that had brought her up from the subterranean garage, Siobhán noted the gold-veined marble floors and the congestion of the lobby, which proved the health of Raguel Gadara’s many business interests. The hum of conversation and the industrious whirring of the glass tube elevators lent an energy to the sun-drenched space.

  Fifty floors above her, a massive skylight invited the warmth of the sun into the lush atrium and kept spirits high. Raguel had become a master at manipulating human emotion over time, a skill that ensured that his real estate, hospitality, and entertainment empire was always newsworthy.

  She went straight to the reception desk, offering a smile to the young man who greeted her enthusiastically. During the drive over, she’d decided it would be best not to see Trevor at all. He was on a good path, one that would ensure he was kept safe and comfortable. There was nothing to be gained by seeing each other again, except pain and regret for her.

  “I have a package for Trevor Descansos.” She pulled the envelope out from where she’d tucked it into her waistband at the small of her back. “If you could see that he gets it . . .”

  “Of course.” Jansen—as his badge read—searched for Trevor’s name in the computer and typed a quick note into the system. “Would you like to leave your name?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m just a courier.” She signed where he indicated on a clipboard, then stepped back.

  She was halfway to the elevators when she heard Trevor’s laugh. The rich, deep sound rolled over her senses with such vibrancy it made the thrum of noise in the atrium fade to insignificance.

  Her head turned without volition, her gaze seeking and finding him walking beside a pretty, smiling blonde. He had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a wheeled carryon rolling behind him. He’d filled out, his body once again big and lean, his face breathtaking in its beauty. He looked fit and as happy as she’d hoped he would be.

  Her chest ached unbearably at the sight of him, constricting her breathing. He was grinning down at the woman beside him, his eyes bright and his charm evident. The blonde was riveted, her attention focused solely on him.

  Gasping for a deep breath, Siobhán forced herself to look away and continue toward the elevator, fighting an unknown stinging in her eyes that made her feel terribly exposed. She hated the pretty woman who could enjoy Trevor without restriction, and she hated herself for feeling that way. If the blonde made him happy, Siobhán wanted to be happy, too. She should be, if she hadn’t fallen so far from grace.

  Stabbing her finger into the call button for the elevator, she willed the car to hurry so she could retreat into privacy. As the doors slid open, she rushed inside, affording herself one last look at him.

  He’d stopped and was staring directly at her.

  Her breath caught and her heart ceased beating for an endless moment. No, she thought. Please don’t remember me.

  “Hold the elevator!” he shouted across the distance between them, lunging into
motion.

  Spurred by the need for flight, she pushed the button to close the doors, seeing his jaw set with determination as the two halves slid together and shut him out. Siobhán sagged heavily into the brass handrail of the moving car, her chest heaving. It had been a mistake to come. He’d been fine. She’d been fine. Coming here had only stirred things up again.

  When the elevator arrived on the garage level, she stepped out into the cool, dark space and headed toward her vehicle, her blood rushing through her ears. The outrageously powerful response of her body to emotions she shouldn’t be capable of feeling rattled the very foundations of who she’d been created to be. Because of him. Because being around Trevor did something to her she couldn’t fight or control.

  “Hey! Hold up.”

  She stumbled, startled to hear Trevor calling out behind her. The pounding of his booted feet grew louder as he drew closer at a dead run. She faced him, feeling almost dizzy with delight that he’d come after her . . . followed swiftly by fear of what the consequences could be.

  He was dressed in navy cargo pants and matching T-shirt, looking very much like the EMT he was. His hair had grown long enough to touch his collar in the back and drape over his forehead in the front. Her hands clenched against the desire to touch it again, to see how it felt with its new length. He’d ditched his luggage somewhere. And the pretty blonde.

  He skidded to a halt in front of her and grinned. “Hi.”

  She looked up at him, unable to resist smiling back. His eyes were bright and his mood boisterous. “Hi.”

  He held his hand out to her. “Trevor Descansos.”

  “Siobhán.” She shook his hand, feeling a tingle race up her arm from his touch. She abruptly remembered the taste of him and the power of his kiss.

  “Shiv-awn,” he repeated, caressing her name with his voice. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  “Thank you.” She loosened her grip on him, but he wouldn’t let go.

  “I know this is abrupt, but do you have time for coffee? Or lunch? Or anything?”

  Something fluttered in her stomach. “I’m sorry. Have we met before?”