Angels of Darkness (51 page)

She looked up at him. “We'll work this out, won't we?”

His eyes sparked with green light. His kiss was hot and thorough. The perfect answer.

Until his phone rang. Marc groaned, held her for another long, scorching second before pulling away. Radha grinned, appreciating his reluctance to break away almost as much as the kiss.

“Hopefully SI with those transcripts,” he muttered, glancing at the screen. He frowned. “Local.”

“Someone you gave a card to?”

Humans, vampires. How many people had he talked with? But if someone called at five in the morning, it was most likely a vampire.

“Probably.” He brought the phone to his ear. “Revoire.”

Radha had no trouble hearing the other end of a telephone conversation from this distance, but to begin, there was only a brief silence. Then a young female voice: “Agent Revoire?”

“Speaking. May I help you?”

“My friend Sam said you talked to him yesterday. About Jason.”

Marc's brow furrowed. “Miklia?”

“Yes,” she said, before continuing with obvious uncertainty. “I wondered . . . if I could talk to you. About . . . a few things. If you could talk to me and my friends.”

His face stilled, a quietly dangerous expression hardening his eyes. “About what you did yesterday morning?”

Another silence was followed by a long, indrawn breath. “Kind of. No. My friend said . . . said you might be a Guardian.”

Had Brand already told Jessica, and she'd passed it on? Maybe.

She saw the same question in Marc's eyes, but his voice didn't betray it to Miklia. “I'll talk to you. What do you want to know?”

“Not on the phone. Not where someone might overhear.”

“Where would you be comfortable? The library?”

“No. It's . . . it's closed.”

Radha met Marc's gaze. The girl broke into a vampire's house, but worried about a closed library?

“The football field,” Miklia said. “No one's here right now. And it's open.”

Wide open, a public space, free of witnesses—and apparently, the girls were already there. Radha's instincts were telling her that something was off.

“When?” Marc asked.

“Can you be here in ten minutes?”

“Yes.”

“We'll be here. Thank you.” The girl rang off.

Radha shook her head. “You're in their way. And you can't touch them, defend yourself. Not without breaking the Rules.”

Marc grinned. “And they'll stake me?”

All right. Put that way, her worry was ridiculous. He wouldn't let them get close enough to stake him—and humans simply couldn't match a Guardian's speed. He could run across that football field faster than any of those girls could blink.

His grin faded. “This might be the only chance to set them straight. If not for that, I wouldn't bother. I'd just wait for the sheriff to catch up to them. But once he does, no one will tell them the truth about vampires and Guardians. It will all be cast aside as nonsense.”

True. “I'm going with you.”

“Of course you are—though I'd prefer they don't see you. If they brought a gun instead of a stake, and they get lucky enough to knock me out with a head shot, I'd like someone to pull me out of there.”

Because a bullet anywhere else would hurt like hell, might slow him down, but it wouldn't kill a Guardian. A bullet to the brain wouldn't kill him, either—but lying unconscious on a football field probably wasn't how Marc wanted to start the day.

“So I watch over you?” She liked that.

“If you have to. But I think it's more likely that we'll just need a few of your illusions to back me up.”

Either to drive a point home to the girls or to scare them straight. Radha grinned. “That sounds fun.”

“I hoped you'd say that.” His own smile faded quickly. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes. “A demon could have impersonated her voice.”

“And that's what you're still hoping for?” Radha had to admit that she was, too. “That he's trying to lure you there?”

“Yes. Or that maybe of all the girls, just one of them is. But if one of them
is
a demon, he shouldn't have chosen to face me on a football field. He should have chosen the protection of the library, of concrete and stone.”

Because of his Gift. And when he turned his face toward her again, Radha almost didn't recognize the change that came over him. That quiet, dangerous look—but intensified. Marc, the Guardian warrior. Hardened with experience, determined to win.

So damn sexy. And, thank the heavens—no longer celibate.

She'd make sure he was even
less
celibate when they were done with the demon and she got her hands all over him again. Forming her wings, Radha leaped off the building's edge.

“Let's hurry, then.”

 

 

M
arc obviously didn't intend to mess around. As they flew in over the field, he lashed out with a psychic probe strong enough to pierce even Radha's shields—but unless one of them was a demon, none of the girls waiting in the middle of the field would feel it.

“All human,” he said softly. “And no one else is here.”

Damn.

But, human or not, Radha wasn't messing around, either, and she wasn't taking any chances. Marc could speak to these girls, he could do this his way . . . but he wouldn't be where they thought he was. Even Marc might not realize that she'd concealed his body and created a perfect double of him, an illusion that immediately mirrored his voice and movements—except that it landed five feet closer to them than he truly did.

Radha settled gently onto the ankle-deep layer of crunchy snow covering the field. This illusion required her to watch Marc continually, so that she could perfectly mimic his actual movements. By standing off to the side and even with Marc's double, she had a wide enough view to see both him and the girls, standing shoulder to shoulder at the midfield line.

Or what would have been the midfield line in real football, Radha supposed. She didn't know what they called it in American football.

The little blonde closest to her was Miklia, she remembered. The slim, dark-haired girl had been driving the Jeep—so she was Jessica, the coroner's granddaughter. The two other girls were Lynn and Ines, but Radha wasn't certain which one was the tall, dark blond teenager and which one was the redhead with the faint orange tan.

None of them carried weapons, unless they'd managed to stuff some beneath their puffy coats or under their knitted caps. They definitely didn't have any room to hide something in their tight jeans.

Marc didn't vanish his wings. With mouths half open, the girls stared at them—or at the double's wings, in reality.
That's right,
Radha thought.
Be impressed, you little murderers.
She added a subtle glow to the white feathers and his skin, then let a hint of a complex, spicy scent drift toward them. Different, exotic.

And that was laying it on thick, but these girls needed to understand right away that they had no real understanding of anything a Guardian was or did. And that when Marc told them, they needed to listen.

He waited, giving them the opening. If they dared to take it. Tall and strong, arms crossed over his broad chest and legs braced apart, he clearly intimidated them.

And he was clearly so
hot
.

Swallowing hard, Miklia reached for Jessica's hand, seeking support. Kind of sweet. Too bad they were deluded murderers. “You're a Guardian?”

“Yes.”

“And you know . . . you know what we've been doing?”

“Yes.” Marc's expression turned dark and forbidding. “I know you killed your brother. Why?”

Miklia's face fell. Disappointment and dismay leaked through her psychic shields. “You don't think we should have?”

“Guardians only slay demons. Not vampires, not unless they deserve it. Did your brother hurt anyone?”

Her jaw set; her lips formed a stubborn line. “He wasn't my brother anymore.”

“Yes, he was. The body changes, but the soul doesn't.” His gaze moved to meet Jessica's. “Abram Bronner, too. The same man. The same
good
man.”

Jessica's chin lifted. “Can you prove it to us?”

“Yes.”

She blinked. They all looked startled for a moment. Then Jessica collected herself, glanced at the redhead next to her. “Ines, you and Lynn need to be watching on each side of the field now, making sure no one is coming.”

Ines looked at Marc again, her gaze lifting to the apex of his wings. “But—”

“We talked about this, Nessie,” Jessica snapped, cutting off her protest. Clearly the leader. “You got to see him up close. Now you have a responsibility to uphold—or will you fail us and leave us all exposed, like you almost did when you left your book open for everyone to see?”

Oh, guilt trip, because someone might have seen a book open. This was a hard-core little group.

Ines's lower lip trembled. “No one did.”

No one except for Gregory Jackson. But Radha noticed that Marc didn't point that out—probably to protect the kid. These girls would probably go after him if they knew he'd seen a few titles and drawings.

“Only because someone is looking out for us,” Jessica claimed. “The book said a door would open, and it did, didn't it? We're on the right path, but only if you take the needed steps—and right now, those steps are not standing here. So, go. And you, Lynn. Now.”

No more arguments. The girls took off in opposite directions, heading for the stands. So they
had
worked it out in advance—probably using the highest bleachers on each side as a lookout point.

Jessica looked to Marc again. “So where's your so-called proof?”

“You have it,” he said. “It's your memory of everything they've ever done. Has any of it been evil? Name one thing.”

They apparently couldn't. Angrily, they simply stared back at him.

“What have they
done
? Tell me why they deserved to die. Just one thing.”

“They hide their evil.” Miklia found her answer and immediately warmed up to it. Fists clenched, she tossed out, “They lie!”

“They lie,” Jessica echoed. “Just as demons do. Isn't
that
true?”

“Vampires aren't demons.”

“And demons sow doubts. Don't they?”

Oh, Radha saw where this was going. Marc wanted them to doubt their actions. Therefore, he was obviously a demon. Marc must have seen the direction they were taking, too. With a sigh, he shook his head.

“And they can take any form! Isn't
that
right? But you can't hurt us. So we're not afraid of you!”

“I'm almost sorry for that,” Marc said, and he glanced at Radha. Debating whether to try something else, she knew, or just leave.

Leaving seemed like the most sensible option. These girls weren't going to be talked or scared into anything—and certainly not into accepting any truth but the one they already believed. Nothing she or Marc did would change that.

The sensible option wasn't any fun, but that was sometimes the life of a Guardian.

Jessica crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really have
anything
to tell us?”

Was there anything they'd listen to? As if tired, Marc rubbed the back of his neck. Yes, completely done with this whole scene. Radha was, too.

“Just try not to hurt anyone,” he said. “That includes vampires. That's all I can tell you.”

“That's
all
?” As if stricken, Miklia fell to her knees. “Then you can't be a Guardian. A Guardian would have supported us, no matter what.”

So much for the power of glowing wings and a mysterious spicy scent. She met Marc's eyes, gestured upward, and concealed her voice from the girls. “Ready to go?”

He nodded, but a movement in the bleachers across the field tore Radha's gaze away from him. Not long enough to affect the illusion she'd created, but—

What is that redheaded girl doing with a crossbow?
Ripping pain slammed through Radha's wing and shoulder from behind. She cried out, stumbling forward from the impact.

“Radha!” Almost instantly, Marc crossed the distance between them and swept her up before she fell. He knelt, cradling her against him, his big body shielding hers. Face white, his gaze dropped to her shoulder. “God damn them. Are you all right?”

Through gritted teeth, she forced out, “Fine.”

A bloodied arrowhead and shaft jutted through the front of her right shoulder. It hurt—a lot—but that was what happened when a Guardian was stupid enough not to keep her eye on a deluded human: she got a surprise crossbow bolt.

It didn't matter. She'd had worse. Still, it would hurt more before it got better. “Tear it out,” she told him.

Jaw clenching, he nodded, broke off the jutting arrowhead. Behind Marc, Jessica and Miklia stared at them, mouths hanging open. Her illusions had shattered, Radha realized. Another unfortunate consequence of a surprise crossbow bolt through the shoulder.

Jessica came out of her shocked stupor. “There's two!” she shouted. She fell to her knees beside Miklia.

“Bl . . . blue.” Miklia was staring at Radha, stuttering from astonishment. “And wings.”

“Shut up! And hurry!” Jessica shouted at her, ripping off her gloves and digging through the snow. “Ines! Come on, shoot!”

“It'll hurt.” Marc reached for the feathered shaft still sticking out the back of her shoulder. “I'm sorry.”