Bound Guardian Angel (27 page)

Skeletor was gone.

Interesting.

Maybe she’d hit a nerve when she asked if he
was having an identity crisis. Or maybe . . .
hmmm . . . maybe Skeletor had just made his first
mistake. Maybe he hadn’t intended to say what he’d said. Not that
it made any sense to her, but if he slipped up once, he could do it
again.

The least she could do was begin a backtrace
to see if he’d left a trail by hacking her. She doubted it would
turn up anything, but it was worth a shot.

She started the tracking program then turned
off the lamp, pushed her chair under the desk, and went to the
kitchen for a snack before heading off to bed.

Grabbing a banana, she turned to leave but
stopped as she glanced out the window and saw Trace working on the
fence around the horse ring, which was really more like a horse
rectangle. In the summer, the older kids enjoyed setting up jumps
in there and running the course with the horses, but the harsh
winter had snapped a few of the fence rails. Trace was replacing
them.

A full-blood never would have been able to
work in the sun, but Trace was like her. Half human, half vampire.
And like the mixed-blood vampires from Egyptian times, the human
blood that ran through his veins protected him from the harmful
effects of sunlight.
Sun sickness.

He stopped hammering the rail he was working
on and slipped off his sunglasses. He wiped his brow as he squinted
skyward. Then he slid his sunglasses back on and knelt beside Null,
who had his orange, blue, and neon-green Little Tikes hammer in his
hand. He was tapping it against the wood, imitating Trace.

She couldn’t hear what Trace said, but Null
beamed and nodded before resuming his pint-sized hammering. Trace
smiled and ruffled his hair.

“You like him, don’t you?”

Cordray jumped and almost dropped her banana
as she spun to find Mya entering the kitchen.

The dark-haired female laughed as she opened
the fridge and grabbed a can of Pepsi Vanilla. “Well, if there’d
been any doubt before, there’s none now. You’re hot for the
help.”

“How can you drink that stuff?” She gestured
toward the can of soda. “It tastes like cologne.”

“It does not.” Mya popped the tab and
pressed it back. “And quit changing the subject. You like him. I
can tell.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Mya took a sip of her soda as she
parked her hip against the side of the counter. “I saw how you kept
looking at him during breakfast.”

Cordray shut her eyes and sighed. The last
thing she needed was for Mya and Brenna to begin hassling her about
Trace. “Oh? And how was I looking at him?”

Mya set her drink down and moved to the
cupboard, where she started pulling out items to make lunch. “Like
your biological clock was ticking.”

Cordray began peeling her banana. “Vampires
don’t have biological clocks.”

“Maybe not, but that’s how you were looking
at him.” Mya winked and shot her a cockeyed grin over her shoulder.
“Like you were ready to have his hot little mixed-blood babies.”
She shut the cabinet and set two large cartons of chicken broth on
the counter. “Don’t get me wrong. You could do a lot worse. And
he’s terrific with Null. I’ve never seen that kid open up so much.
He already adores Trace, and he only just met him.”

True. Null usually kept to himself, but with
Trace, he’d been a chatterbug. Throughout breakfast, he had grilled
Trace with questions, regaled him with stories about life on the
ranch, how he’d found a really cool rock behind the barn a few
weeks ago, who his favorite superhero was—Thor, because how cool
was it that he could create a tornado with his hammer?—and how he
had dreamed about goblins kidnapping him a couple of nights
ago.

Trace had told Null he would never let
Goblins take him and that maybe he didn’t have Thor’s hammer, but
he could still create a tornado to keep any nasty people away. Null
had laughed at that, probably because he hadn’t thought Trace was
telling the truth. If only Null knew. Trace really could create a
tornado, as well as about a dozen other natural disasters, all with
just a thought and his hand.

A part of her anatomy melted at the idea of
all that power being unleashed on her body.

“Where did you find him?” Mya said, sliding
up beside her as she glanced out the window at the male who was
currently rocking Cordray’s world in ways it hadn’t been rocked in
a long, long time.

“Huh?”

Mya snorted in amusement. “I asked where you
found him. How did you get that stud to volunteer to work
here?”

Cordray discarded the banana peel and tore
off a piece. “He broke one of the king’s laws.”

Mya’s eyebrows shot up as if she were
impressed. “Ooo, a criminal. Nice, C.” She smirked as she turned
for another cabinet and grabbed a large soup pan. “What a great
influence on the children.”

“He’s an AKM enforcer. He just bent the
rules a little too far and overstepped Bain’s law, that’s all.” Two
weeks ago, she had testified against him. Now she was defending
him. She didn’t need anyone pointing out the significance of such
an abrupt about-face. Trace’s effect on her was making her change
her mind about a lot of things. She stuffed another piece of banana
in her mouth as she glanced back out the window. “I wouldn’t have
brought him here if I thought he was dangerous or could hurt the
kids.”

“So, why did you bring him here?” Mya
waggled her eyebrows as Cordray turned away from the window.
“Trying to keep him close?”

“I thought you were the jaded one.” Cordray
ate another bite of banana and eyed Mya suspiciously.

“I am, but even I have eyes, C. I mean, look
at him.” She gestured toward Trace. “What female wouldn’t want to
spend a night with
that
inside her?”

Rolling her shoulders, Cordray ignored the
green-eyed shockwave rippling down her spine as she forced herself
not to stare at Trace’s sculpted physique and the way his jeans
tightened over his ass as he bent to pick up another rail.

“I guess if you’re into that sort of thing,”
she said. “Which I’m not, of course. And I think you know why.”

Mya froze, and the humor drained from her
expression. “Oh God, C. I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean . . . I totally spaced it.” Mya hung her head.
“I know you can’t feel—”

“Forget it.” She swallowed the last bite of
banana. “Look, I’m exhausted. I’m going to head upstairs, take a
shower, and go to bed. I’ve got things to do in the city tonight.”
She dusted her hands together. “Save me some of whatever you’re
making for lunch, though, okay? I’ll eat before I leave.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

Cordray left the kitchen, sensing Mya’s
awkward discomfort and guilt, and headed upstairs to her bedroom,
stripped, took a shower, then changed into a loose, dark-grey tank
top with a bedazzled image of a black widow spider on the front.
Then she tugged on a pair of black, wide-legged yoga pants that
felt like melted butter on her legs.

She was about to shut the blinds and turn
in, but the moment her gaze landed on Trace in the backyard, she
stopped, hand on the drawstring.

Sunlight rained down from blue skies, and
the thermometer outside her window read seventy-four degrees. For
the first week of May in Chicago, that was warm.

Trace had taken off his shirt. Sweat
glistened on his skin. She sure hoped someone had given him
sunscreen. He might be a daywalker, but that didn’t mean he
wouldn’t get a sunburn. Just that he’d heal from it faster than a
human would.

Aiden sat nearby in the grass, wearing a
lightweight, pink jacket, playing with her dolls and braiding their
hair, but Null remained at Trace’s side, stuck to him like Velcro,
helping him position the rail and hold it in place while Trace
hammered in a nail.

The muscles in Trace’s back bunched and
flexed, rippling with each impact of the hammer. The supple
vibrations reminded her of the way the muscles in a thoroughbred
undulated as it ran. Pure, unbridled power.

Sexy as hell on a male.

Trace stopped, plucked the ever-present
matchstick from between his lips, and bent to inspect something
Null held up in his hand. Probably another rock. Null loved his
rocks and had a whole box of them in the room down the hall where
he and Aiden often took afternoon naps while the older kids were in
class.

Trace smiled and smudged dirt on Null’s
button nose, making the little boy squeal and swipe at Trace’s
hand. Trace laughed as he stood, slipped the matchstick back into
his mouth, and returned to work. Little Null joined him and
tap-tap-tapped
his plastic hammer alongside Trace’s sturdier
one, gazing up at Trace with awe and pride.

They were like a living family portrait.
Love, warmth, and a sense of belonging blossomed around them. If
only she could be a part of the picture, but that kind of happiness
wasn’t in her cards.

After staring for at least ten minutes,
Cordray turned and came face to face with Mya, who stood a few feet
away, holding a basket of folded towels. The air smelled of corn
chowder.

“You don’t like him, huh?” Mya smiled
compassionately then bobbed her head toward the door. “Your door
was open.”

“How long have you been standing there?”
Cordray looked away.

“Long enough.”

“For what?” She glanced back to see Mya
purse her lips as she set the laundry basket on a chair.

“Long enough to see that look on your face
again. You were undressing him with your eyes.”

Cordray chuffed. “Please. I was so not
looking at him that way.” She let the blinds drop then left Mya at
the window so she could pull back the covers on the bed.

Mya faced her and crossed her arms. “Why
don’t you just fess up and admit you’re attracted to him. Then
maybe we can get past all the bullshit.”

“What does it matter? It’s not like
anything’s going to happen between us, anyway.”

“And why’s that?”

“It just won’t work, that’s why.”

“Because of Gideon?”

Cordray’s head snapped up, her gaze locking
on Mya’s.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re pushing him
away because of what Gideon did to you.”

“Leave him out of this.”

“C, you’re being an ass. Did you ever stop
to think that Gideon never mated you because you were supposed to
mate someone else? Hmm?”

Truthfully, she hadn’t. Gideon had been
it
for her. Her one and only chance at happiness. And he had
spurned her. He had taken another. “Drop it, Mya.” She picked up
her pillow and fluffed it like she was punching a dreck in the
nose.

“You’re such a chickenshit.”

Cordray spun on her. “You don’t know what
I’ve been through. You don’t know what I go through now. I’ve given
up so much to make sure these kids—of which you
were
one, if
you recall—have a better life than I ever had. To make sure they’re
taken care of, loved, wanted, and—”

“And you’ve left yourself behind in the
process!” Mya got in her face. “You give all these kids every ounce
of love in your heart. You show them every time you’re here how
wanted they are. But when it comes to you, C, you leave nothing in
the bank. You don’t stop to give yourself any love. You don’t allow
yourself to want for anyone, because you’re afraid that nobody will
want you back.”

Cordray tried to push Mya out of the way so
she could shut herself into her bathroom. Screw this. She didn’t
need to hear this shit.

Mya blocked Cordray’s retreat.

“No, C. You’re going to hear me out for
once. You pulled me from the brink of hell, and you instilled in me
a sense of self-worth I’ll forever be grateful for, and now it’s my
turn to return the favor.” She squared Cordray up in her sights.
“Gideon wasn’t the one for you.”

Cordray closed her eyes and cringed. “You
don’t know—”

Mya shook her. “He wasn’t! It’s been long
enough. You need to let him go and let someone else in. Let
him
in.” She pointed toward the window. “Maybe he’s the
reason why you and Gideon never mated. Maybe
he’s
your mate.
And even if he’s not, what harm could it do to let him in? Huh? To
let someone love you again. To let him love you.”

“He doesn’t want me!” Cordray flung Mya’s
hands off. “Don’t you get it? He hates me.”

Mya took a step back and let Cordray pass.
“How do you know?”

“I just do.” She slipped into the bathroom
and grabbed her toothbrush. She’d already brushed her teeth once,
but with nothing else to keep her hands busy, brushing them again
was all she could do.

“Maybe you’re wrong.” Mya shrugged.

“And maybe I’m right.”

“Have you asked him?”

Cordray flipped on the faucet and stuffed
the brush in her mouth.

Mya leaned through the doorway. “Have
you?”

Jesus, Mya couldn’t take a hint.

She spit out the mint-flavored paste and
spun around. “No! Now drop it!” She quickly rinsed and slapped off
the faucet.

“No.” Mya followed her back into the
bedroom. “Not until you tell me why.”

“This is my life, Mya. Why do you care so
much?”

Mya looked at her as if she hadn’t a clue
about anything, frowning and tilting her head. “How can you even
ask me that? You’re like a mother to me, C. A mother, a sister, a
best friend. Believe me, I care.”

Cordray slumped onto the edge of the bed,
eyes closed, the wind draining from her sails. Her still-damp hair
hung over her face.

The bed dipped as Mya gingerly sat down
beside her.

For several long moments, neither said
anything. Then Mya took Cordray’s hand in both of hers. The only
way Cordray knew she had was that she felt her arm being lifted
away from her leg. She couldn’t feel Mya’s hand on hers, or whether
her hand was warm or cold. Just a shifting of weight.