Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) (66 page)

Gripping a thread in front of her chest, she sliced through it. Joy and warmth filled her—until she touched Michael’s threads, and then there was hunger, deep hunger, unquenchable need pushing her apart and pulling her together all at once. Gasping, she sliced through the dark strand and tied the ends of the two threads in a strong double fisherman’s knot.

She ran her finger across the knotted strands, from light to dark. His felt different now. No longer the hunger. Or not
just
the hunger. It was still there, buried deep. But there was more. So much more. Strength and compassion and warmth, all so deep. But not buried. Embedded all the way through.

Hunger, strength, compassion.

Michael.

Purely
Michael. That thread was no longer anchored to Chaos, and so everything she felt through it no longer came from that realm, but from
him
. Just his own soul—anchored to hers.

Her heart in her throat, she gripped each thread and tried to pull them apart. The knot held strong. She rose from the bed, walked across the temple. The threads stretched between them, each side elongating across the distance, with the knot in the middle.

She returned to the bed. A soul had to be anchored to flesh. She would anchor him to hers. But when
she
died, they both needed somewhere to go.

This time, she didn’t cut her thread. Only one of his—and then tied the severed end of his strand to one of hers that reached to Heaven, using a constrictor knot that would tighten under tension. When her threads were finally sucked away, it would pull him along, too.

Taylor hesitated for a short moment before tying him to her red thread, too. Then another knot, linking his soul directly to hers, light and dark threads together. Again and again. As fast as she could. There wasn’t much time, but superspeed had to be worth something. She anchored him to her, then anchored them both to Heaven and Hell. To her, then to Heaven and Hell.

She ran out of Hell, but she continued on. So many threads. Knotting their severed ends together, then knotting his to her thread still connected to Heaven. Over and over. Joy and hunger, and Michael. Joy and hunger, and Michael. Her fingers grew sore and her shoulders ached. She hadn’t felt that since she was human.

Michael lay motionless beside her, and the only noise he made was the beat of his heart. Strong. Even.

Had she done the right thing?

Taylor didn’t know. But although his body might let him go, she wouldn’t.

He was hers.

She didn’t pause to look at the time. Minutes passing into hours didn’t matter. Only that she tied
enough
. Her fastest just had to be fast
enough
. Cut, wrap, pass through, pull tight, until every thread she could see was knotted or tied off.

But that was just his front. She rolled him over. The bandage covering his back was soaked through. Beneath him, the sheet was bloodied.

At least it wasn’t any worse. No more blood dripped from his eyes or nose or ears. Even the spike had stopped bleeding.

She tied more threads, reaching blindly around her own back for each one. A tangle of dark and light surrounded her, with red running through.

Right or wrong, she wasn’t being judged for this. There were no more red threads than when she’d begun. But she’d have to be careful. She’d tied him to her anchoring threads. When she went to Heaven or Hell, he would go with her. Every action she made would affect his fate, too.

An insistent beeping slowly penetrated her focus. The alarm she’d set on her phone. A full day had passed. She’d tied hundreds of thousands of threads. But she still wasn’t done. Loose strands still wavered around them, his dark, hers light. And one missed red thread.

But she had to stop.
Most
of their threads were tied. This was either enough . . . or it wasn’t.

She quickly severed his few remaining anchors to Chaos—she wouldn’t risk anything tearing him away from her. With trembling hands, she yanked out the spike and averted her gaze from the gaping hole in his forehead. Michael couldn’t heal on his own anymore. She needed Pim to heal him.

But first she needed to make sure this would work. She backed away from the bed, pulled open the huge marble doors, and closed them behind her.

The threads passed through the stone as if the marble wasn’t there.

She shut off her Gift. Made herself wait a few seconds before looking again.

The threads were still there. Still tied.

Overwhelming relief swept through her, and she almost sagged to the temple steps. She’d anchored Michael’s soul to hers. Even with her Gift off, even if space and stone separated them, they were still anchored.

And now she needed to find Pim, wake Michael up, and let him know what she’d done.

She entered the temple again—and was seized by a torrent of black wings and obsidian eyes and bronze strength. Her back hit the door. Her hands flattened against a broad chest.

Michael’s gaze burned into hers. “What did you do?”

His hoarse voice seemed to echo faintly through the room.
I am yours, Andromeda.

“I tied our threads together. I anchored your soul to mine, so that when your body fails, you’re still with me.” When his eyes closed, she babbled faster. “You might be a ghost; I don’t know. But you’ll be with me. And I’ve tethered your soul to my anchors, too, so that when I go to Heaven or Hell, you’ll go with me.”

His forehead dropped to hers. “Andromeda.”

I would never have risked you. My life isn’t worth yours.

“I know you think that. That’s why I stabbed the spike through your head. And you’re probably worried that when your body dies, your threads will be sucked away—and that they will pull
me
, too. But it won’t happen. I’m strong enough. I can hold you. I know it.”

“I know you can.”

You are strong.

You are mine.

“I’m yours.” Capturing his face in his hands, she kissed him. “And I can’t lose you.”

Michael’s body stiffened against her. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes.

And sighed.

I love you, Andromeda Taylor.

Astonished, she stared at his mouth. She’d heard that clearly. But his lips hadn’t said it.

“What’s happening?” She didn’t know, but her heart was already leaping, full of hope and joy. “What has happened? Did you really say that?”

“I have said it a thousand times. And I will say it a hundred thousand times more.” His gaze searched hers. “Do you not feel what you have done?”

“I’ve linked us. More than just souls, apparently. So does that mean I’ll still be able to hear you and feel you, even after your body dies? Like I could when you were in the frozen field?”

“There is no ‘after my body dies.’”
I’m not dying.
Suddenly laughing, he dropped a kiss to her mouth. “Your song was torn from me. It was missing. But it isn’t missing any longer.”

Your soul is tied to mine. Your psychic song filled in the gap. The dissonance is gone.

You healed me.

Taylor stared at him, not daring to believe it—but wanting to, so much. Her gaze rose to his forehead. Smooth. He could have used his healing Gift on that one. But not . . .

“Let me see your back.”

He turned, rolling his wings forward over his wide shoulders. She ripped the bandage away. The scars from the dragon blade were raw—but not bleeding. His body was healing itself again.

Stunned, she shook her head. “I didn’t know it would heal you. I never dreamed it would. Just . . . Joe had somewhere to go. As much as that hurt, I knew he wouldn’t be alone. But you would have been alone in Chaos. I didn’t want you to be.”

“I won’t be.” His voice was rough. Turning, he swept her up, and she saw that his amber eyes were glistening. “I asked for a miracle, Andromeda. I begged for more time, and they didn’t answer. But I didn’t need a miracle. I had you.”

And I am yours. Always yours.

I love you.

She loved him, too. So much. “You asked the angels?”

“Yes.” He stopped suddenly, his jaw hard. “Will you open your shields?”
I want to make sure there hasn’t been a trade.

Nodding, she felt him slip into her mind, his dark gentle touch. She felt his relief as he withdrew. “What were you looking for?”

“Your song became a part of mine. But if mine became a part of yours—that would be dissonance to you. But it’s not. My song lies beneath yours now. Intertwined, but not a new part of the melody.”

“Why is it different?”

“I don’t know.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “Maybe I got my miracle after all. But more likely it’s because I am anchored to you. We aren’t anchored to each other. Or your Gift offers you more control of the threads than you’re aware.”

If you can manipulate the threads, perhaps you determine how the link works.

And intentions often matter.

She had only one intention now. Laughing, Taylor kissed him hard. So hard. He was here. He would live.

Returning her laugh against her mouth, Michael grinned down at her when she pulled away. Then his eyes darkened. “How much time has passed?”

“A day.”

“Has Lucifer begun the ritual?”

“Not yet, apparently.” Because Jake hadn’t shown up here. And she couldn’t stop smiling. “You love me.”

The darkness left his eyes. Her heart leapt as he swept her up against his chest and began carrying her toward the bed. “You had to know.”

She had. “It’s just . . . hard to believe that it’s different from what you feel for the others. That it’s more.”

“Why?”

“That of all the people in eight thousand years, it’s me. There’s nothing unique about me.”

“That’s true.” He vanished the bloodied sheet and gently laid her on the bed, came down beside her. His black wing folded around her. “I have known many people with a temper like yours, who are just as likely to explode with emotion. I’ve known many who step back from that emotion. I’ve known many who laugh as you do. Who are as stubborn. As conflicted. As strong. I’ve met many people who at first think I have no place interfering with human lives, but later believe the Guardians are necessary to protect humans against demons. I’ve known others who don’t want that protection personally, yet accept it because they recognize they cannot defeat a vampire on their own. I’ve known those who don’t want someone to swoop in and save them, but are practical enough to recognize and be grateful when someone helps them. Everything you do, I could point to someone I have known who shares the same tendency, the same belief, the same response. Who will do what is right, no matter the difficulty, no matter the danger.”

God.
Her throat thick, Taylor stared up at him. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t unique. The way he saw her . . . she felt amazing. Incredible.

And maybe it wasn’t such a surprise that he loved her.

But he wasn’t done. His fingers traced the line of her jaw as he continued, “But you are the only person I know to have all those tendencies and beliefs in one. You are the only one whose song echoed within me, even before I needed it to survive. You are the only one I would destroy the world to protect. You are the only one I would willingly die for.
Truly
die for, and sacrifice myself for. I have been asked to die for someone before—Alice was bound by a bargain to kill me, and I couldn’t sacrifice myself to save her from the frozen field. I love her. She is one of the best women I know, and though I would do anything to help her, I couldn’t let her destroy me. But to save you, I would destroy myself without a second thought.”

She wished he wouldn’t speak of that so easily. “For my sake, give it a second thought. Find another way.”

“I would. Anything for you.” He smiled down at her. “And falling in love with you makes absolute sense to me. Far more sense than you falling in love with me. You have seen what I am.”

“And I’ve seen what you’ve become. That alone would have done it.” Though that wasn’t
all
that had made her fall for him. She bit her lip. “But, okay. Aside from all of the physical gorgeousness, it was your feet.”

“What?”

“Your feet. Because you had one purpose, were dedicated to one thing—saving us all from demons. But it was also like you were trying not to be so scary to all of us human weenies. So you had your toga and your monk clothes. But I knew what you were. So instead of being not scary, your feet were shouting, ‘You all can have your guns and your leather boots. I don’t even give a shit. I’m going to kick demon ass so hard they’re going to taste my bare toes, motherfuckers.’”

His big body shook against hers, his harmonious laugh reverberating through her skin. “I can tell you honestly, Andromeda—I have
never
heard that before.”

“Well, it was really sexy. Even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself. And your feet were
big
. So, you know.”

His grin was wicked. “I know.”

And it hit her all at once.
He was alive.

Fierce white light shone across his face and she was kissing him, ripping away the linens at his hips and then he was inside her, so big. And bigger around her, black feathers and bronze skin, alive, so alive as she rose to meet every heavy thrust, taking him deep.

And falling deeper with him, with every cry, every groan that echoed more beneath it.

I am yours, Andromeda.

And from his lips, “You are mine.”

My life, my love.

I’m nothing without you.

So wrong. He was everything. Her anchor, and Taylor clung to him as she leapt into the abyss, falling hard and fast. It should have been terrifying.

But she was with Michael, and he would always protect her. Taylor opened her eyes and watched the end come in the obsidian darkness of his.

And shattered into nothing.

*   *   *

With the next beat of her heart, she was there again. Feeling everything. His body inside hers, his skin against her skin, his endless kiss.

Shattered, but coming back together. Still clinging to him as their bodies slowed and their hearts eased.