Fallen Embers (Fallen Guardians #9)

Chapter 13

Chapter

Thirteen

Frustrated to his skull at these cursed species forever hunting humans, especially the female who mattered to him, Lore decimated the fleeing lot with another strike of?—

“Lore,” Nia’s faint, panicked cry reached him.

He spun around to where she’d been moments ago, and his heart nearly stopped at the glimpse of her in a pale-haired demon’s grip before the heavy mist concealed them.

He flashed through the agitating fog as the demon shot off and grabbed the hellspawn before he vanished with Nia. They landed in a hard thud, displacing earth and debris. Nia rolled and scrambled away.

Lore leaped up, sword braced.

The demon snarled. Silver glinted. He hurled the dagger at Lore.

Midair, it transformed into several flying blades. Lore swung his massive weapon, slamming the demon’s knives away. A few struck him in the chest and abs.

The scourge grinned, conjuring a huge ball of fire.

Jaw tight, Lore doused the fire with a slice of his heavenly weapon and tore across at the demon rushing for Nia, sword arcing. He beheaded the vermin.

“Did you really think I’d let you get away with abducting my charge?” He flung his sword aside and grabbed the decapitated head. The glamour faded, the dead demon reverting to a darker scaled male. Lore absorbed the blight’s thoughts… mine, mine, mine ? —

The head disintegrated too fast before he finished and disappeared, along with the body, pulled back to Purgatory.

Lore sprinted to where Nia hunched over, with one hand braced on the tree trunk as if she couldn’t straighten, the other on her belly. She had fallen hard when he’d taken down the demon.

“Nia?” He reached for her.

Chest heaving, she looked up, eyes dark and wet. She lifted a hand and clutched his shirt, face pale. Her throat worked. “I-I…”

The scent of copper hit his nose. She crumpled in his arms. No, no?—

He picked her up, her jacket parted. A dagger protruded from her chest. Blood spread in a slow stain over her cream sweater.

Reeling in his dread, Lore quickly settled her on the damp grass, putting aside the urge to track down the hellspawn in charge of the cursed hunt. Oh, he’d catch the blight, and he would burn for eternity!

“It hurts…” Her breaths escaped in short pants, eyes dark with agony.

And the organ in his chest that never mattered much to him shuddered in fear. He sent her to sleep, moved her bloodied hands aside, and scanned her. The blade had just missed her heart by a fraction of an inch.

Mouth tight, he gently eased the dagger out of her chest. More blood gushed.

“I am sorry, Nia. In my anger, I misjudged the scourge’s determination to get you. I will make this right, I promise.”

With a touch of his hand, a silvery glow seeped into her gushing injury. The severed arteries mended, and the bleeding eased as the wound closed and healed. He picked her up and flashed into her home. Later, he’d fix the weak wards.

He headed upstairs to the bedroom and settled her on the bed.

Heavens, he could have lost her!

Caught up in these unknown emotions, he’d inadvertently put her in harm’s way. He should have listened to her, called in another to protect her. Race would have been perfect.

No! His mind rebelled at the thought, and he shut it out. He couldn’t trust anyone, not when the seraphs had marked her for termination. Only he could keep her safe.

His gaze lowered to her clothes, ruined and blood-soaked. Not wanting her to awaken and relive the horror of what occurred, he crossed to the small, attached bathroom and wet a towel. Back at her side, he dropped the cloth on the nightstand and carefully removed her jacket.

A dagger summoned, he sliced open her ruined sweater, then the top she wore underneath it, leaving her only in twin scraps of black fabric covering her chest. Weapon dismissed and damp towel in hand, he sat at her side and carefully cleaned the gore from her chest. His fingers brushed against her warm, smooth skin, and that awareness he tried to shut out swept through him.

She moaned, coming to.

“It’s okay?—”

She bolted up, her head crashing into his jaw. “Ow!”

Lore jerked at the impact and grunted.

“Darn,” she groaned, wincing and rubbing her head. “You have a chin like granite. What…what happened?”

“You’re safe,” he said, clenching the damp, bloodied towel.

Her gaze settled on her ruined clothes on the floor, then rushed to her healed chest. She lifted wide, terrified eyes to him. “I thought it was a nightmare, all those daggers hurled at you. But one got me, too.”

Just recalling the onslaught of unleashed blades, his unawareness that she’d been struck, his ire resurged. Lore rose, wanting to kill the scourge again. “I know. I am sorry.”

“H-he was going to kill you.” Her lips trembled, her fear constricting him like a noose.

“Demons always try for that victory.”

“Is he dead?”

Lore nodded and dropped the towel on her bloody clothes. “It was a minion.”

Her mouth thinned. “That spineless pissant is playing games with us!” Anger morphed her eyes to a flaming amber, her fighting spirit returning in spades. “I swear, the next time I see the jerk, I will knock his damn head off!”

While he was in awe of her resilience, he didn’t want her in the line of fire. “You are not to confront him or set yourself as bait, Nia,” he said, tone stern. “Demons are cunning and dangerous. This one more so.”

When her chin tipped in that familiar, stubborn manner, he held her stare and waited for her agreement. Several seconds passed, then her shoulders sagged.

“Fine. I’ll leave him to you. I need a shower. I reek of blood…” She swung her legs off the bed, stood, and swayed. “Aw, crap?—”

Lore grabbed her arm before she hit the floor. “You need to rest for a while.”

“I’m fine.” She braced a palm on the bedside table.

He ignored the falsehood, removed his cell from his pants pocket with one hand, and mentally sent his question to the phone.

The moment he got the info he needed, he slipped the device back into his pocket. “You should remain in bed and drink liquids to replenish the blood you lost…” His words died as she reached up and touched his face with warm fingertips, a faint smile on her enticing mouth.

He slipped his hand to her lower back, bracing her, his fingers splayed on her bare, warm skin.

“Did Google tell you that?” she asked softly, lips curving.

He gave a single nod, unable to speak, not when her warmth, her tempting scent, her , caused that awareness he tried desperately to shut out to break free. Everything about her called to him. His gaze lowered to her mouth and back to her soft stare. The lingering smell of blood drifted to him.

If he hadn’t been with her, she would have died. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thought?—

“Lore?”

With a groan, his mouth covered hers, needing to feel her, to know she was okay. Having kissed and tasted her once, he wanted more than a brush of their lips. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth, and he found hers. All thoughts faded from his mind except for the female in his arms.

She whimpered and leaned into him. His arm banded around her waist. Being so tall, he had to lean way down. Instinctively, he picked her up, and her legs hooked around his hips. He supported her with one hand on her bottom, the other around her waist. At the tantalizing whiff of her musky arousal, his body tensed.

Her warm, feminine center pressed against his groin, and his shaft swelled as her core moved against his throbbing sex. Pressure built. He grew painfully hard, and for the first time in his long life, the need for something more consumed him…

“God, Lore,” she panted against his mouth. “You confuse me…”

Her husky voice filtered through the sensual haze, but her one word had him freezing.

What was he doing?

You’re an angel in service. You’re desecrating your vows, Loráed.

His belly churned as he lowered her to her feet, his gaze settling on her damp, kiss-swollen lips. A part of him wanted to sweep her back to him, but his ancient oath shot down the desire.

If the seraphs sought him now, he wouldn’t just be pulled back as compromised but be bound to the Celestial Realm, never to leave—not in Nia’s lifespan.

He stepped away, scrubbing his face, once more tightening his mental shields to stop these needs from messing with his mind and body. Still, they seeped out, leaving him with conflicting emotions. “I’m?—”

“Don’t you dare apologize!” she breathed, her passion-glazed eyes edged with hurt.

“I must…” How he managed to keep his tone even, he had no idea. “I saw the dagger in your chest. I lost my mind for a moment. It…it won’t happen again.”

“You said the same thing at the abbey.” Her throat worked as she swallowed, and the flames of passion dimmed, turning her irises to a dull amber. “The next time something else happens, you’ll kiss me again.”

He lowered his head and shut his eyes at the hurt in her voice.

“Then leave me wanting more when you suddenly remember who you are.”

His head snapped up, a part of him wanting to protest, but there was nothing he could say to make it right.

A bitter smile touched her mouth at his silence. “Yes, my life is a lonely one, but I’m used to it. I prefer it that way over dealing with another person not wanting…never mind.” Her chin tipped, a resolute expression settling over her pretty features. “Find someone else to take over as my protector, Lore. I mean it.”

Lore gritted his teeth, so he wouldn’t say anything he might regret, and aimed for the door. He was doing a helluva job of messing up everything so far.

A harsh, shuddering intake of breath followed him, and his chest constricted. He leaped down the stairs, crossed the living room, and stepped outside into the brisk night air, inhaling deeply.

Fists jammed in his pockets, he paced the small backyard. He never wanted to cause her pain, but he’d done just that. He’d crossed the line again and hurt her.

Find someone else?

Nia had no idea what that would mean.

He stopped pacing and stood near the tall conical tree, a wave of longing engulfing him. The alternative wasn’t just losing her, it was signing her death warrant.