“I can’t allow you to put yourself in danger.”

“Can’t allow?” Lindsay would’ve laughed, but this was a deadly serious turning point in their association. She was well aware that he was a being not of this world, a man of immense wealth in his mortal guise and even greater power as an angel. But she would not be subservient to anyone. Especially him. If she didn’t set the ground rules now, it would be too late.

The guard returned with a tray bearing a carafe, one mug, cream, and sugar. He set them down in front of Lindsay, then resumed his position nearby. Lindsay wondered why angels would need protection, especially protection provided by individuals who radiated less power. From what she’d gathered from the conversation over dinner, lycans were guarding the angels. There was apparently some kind of organizational structure to this supernatural underground she’d been brutally introduced to as a child. She realized she knew little about the things she’d been hunting, which had made the killing so much easier. She was going to have to put them into context now, possibly humanizing them in the process, while still slaying them.

Not for the first time, Lindsay wished she could go back in time. If she hadn’t begged her mother to take her on that damn picnic, Regina Gibson might still be alive now.

“I’m sitting down with you,” she went on, “in an attempt to discuss this situation reasonably so we can brainstorm ideas to meet the challenges while still giving me some independence. But if you’re going to take a my-way-or-the-highway stance, I’ve got nothing more to say to you aside from good-bye. I don’t want to be a sitting duck out there, but, frankly, I’d rather take my chances under my own free will than to lose my autonomy.”

Damien shot a sidelong glance at Adrian, but Adrian never took his eyes off her. There was a faint lifting to one side of his mouth, as if he was tempted to smile. “Point taken.”

“All right then. Any suggestions?”

He leaned back in his chair, sliding his long legs forward to assume a graceful sprawl. Her attraction to him presented yet another hurdle. She’d been looking forward to exploring their chemistry before she knew what he was. Now . . . ? Well, it was going to be very complicated. She didn’t have long-term relationships—she barely had time for herself—and she’d never had a fling with a man she worked with, to avoid the postbreakup awkwardness. She knew if she was still living with Adrian after their affair was over, she would have to watch him date other women. She’d never lived with a lover before, let alone with a former lover who had a new girlfriend. Just thinking about Adrian looking at another woman the way he looked at her incited a possessiveness that startled her with its intensity, especially considering how short a time she’d known him.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sweetened it, needing her brain cells to hurry up and start firing.

“You do realize,” Adrian began, “that you can’t continue to straddle your two lives? If you want normalcy, I can see that you have it. Raguel Gadara takes the safety of his employees very seriously. I can arrange for you to move into one of his residential properties. Between work and home and the cessation of your killing, you should be fine.”

“I can’t quit. Not until I find who I’m looking for. Maybe not even then. I can’t imagine going through life knowing those things are out there terrorizing others, and me not doing something about it.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Triumph, maybe. “The alternative is for you to stay here, train hard, and focus on hunting.”

“Isn’t there some sort of compromise? Can’t I live off-site, train on the weekends, and call you for backup when something sets off my freak-o-meter?”

“Even if I could afford to reserve one of my men for the purpose of identifying classification for you, we don’t hunt indiscriminately. We police the vampires, but we can’t exterminate them.”

Lindsay’s blood went cold. “Why not?”

“Their punishment is to live with what they are.”

“And we humans are . . . what? Collateral damage? We have to live—and die—with what they are, too.”

The airborne angels began to land. She watched them with both wonder and fury. These beautiful creatures seemed so magical and powerful, yet they were allowing the parasitic vampires to live.

“We hunt every day,” he said. “We kill every day. Is it such a bad thing that we focus on the ones causing the most damage?”

She looked at him over the rim of her mug. “Fair enough. Maybe I can join you on my days off.”

“Raguel hired you for a reason. What position did he hire you for?”

“Assistant general manager.”

“A big job at a big new property. I’m certain you’re extremely qualified, but I imagine it’s quite a step up for someone your age.”

Lindsay licked coffee from the corner of her mouth. “And he’s paying me too well.”

“Because he expects you to be ambitious, hungry, and willing to put in some long hours.”

She nodded, resigned. The new job alone would take up all her time. That was one of the things that had made the position so appealing—she might actually get to have a regular life, using her livelihood as an excuse for why she wasn’t hunting as much. A cop-out, yes, but she’d convinced herself that she was taking the best option open to her.

As angels alighted all around him, Adrian remained the calm center of activity. But he wasn’t the eye of the storm. He was the storm. He was the dark clouds on the horizon, beautiful from a distance yet capable of great violence.

Lindsay realized she was sitting in the midst of angels, drinking coffee and talking about her new job. Normal, she was not.

“Okay.” She took a fortifying sip. “Wow . . . All those hours of studying. For what?”

“I can’t believe you would give up your dream so easily,” Damien said, examining her. “Mortals wither without dreams.”

“Hospitality wasn’t her dream,” Adrian explained, sounding so sure. “An ordinary life was, or at the very least, a semblance of one.”

“Is that so wrong?” she asked. She wanted a steady man in her life, the chance to fall in love, hang out with friends, and clock in at a job where she didn’t get coated with ashes. But she also felt guilty for wanting ignorance. What kind of person would rather not know about other people’s suffering just so they could be happy themselves ?

“It’s not wrong. Far from it. You’ve never felt comfortable in the mortal world, have you? You’re too beautiful and confident to be a loner, but you never really felt like you fit in.” He looked at her with those knowing eyes, seeing right through her. “There’s no shame in wanting to feel acknowledged for who you are and at ease in your surroundings.”

“I certainly don’t fit in here.” But she couldn’t deny that, deep down, she felt as if she did. And that Adrian was a large part of the reason why. He knew what she did and he accepted her without hesitation. That gave her a sense of fulfillment she’d never had before.

“Don’t you?”

“Not yet.” But she thought she might.

God . . . What would it be like to work alongside others who fought the same fight she did, to not feel so utterly alone in this vicious, lethal world she’d been initiated into with her mother’s death?

Reaching up, Lindsay rubbed the back of her neck. “This decision should really be much harder to make— for both of us. I’m going to slow you down and be a liability.”

“Agreed,” Damien said.

Adrian lifted one shoulder in an artlessly elegant shrug. “There’s a use for every talent.”

“I need income,” she pointed out. “Regardless of choosing one life over the other, I won’t accept a free ride.”

“Mortals,” Damien drawled, “are so obsessed with material wealth.”

Adrian’s mouth curved in a ghost of a smile. “Every day, I’m sending teams all over the world. The duty of making those flight and hotel reservations falls to whoever is unfortunate enough to be near me in the morning; I can’t assign it to my office staff at Mitchell Aeronautics without rousing suspicions. Today, that individual will be you. Barring complete ineptitude or profound dislike, we’ll keep you busy with that task indefinitely. We can negotiate your salary and rent. I provide cell phones, expense accounts, and transportation to all of the Sentinels. You can choose to maintain your own cellular service, but you’ll be carrying two phones.”

“Sentinels?”

“All the angels you see around us.”

Lindsay’s gaze swept over the wide deck. “How many of you are there?”

“One hundred and sixty-two, as of yesterday.”

“Total?”

He nodded.

A short laugh escaped her. “No wonder you’re willing to put up with me. You need all the help you can get.”

“We have the lycans,” Damien rumbled.

She looked at the guards dotting the perimeter of the deck. The disparity in their physical build compared to the angels helped to distinguish them. The angels were lithe and lean, which probably helped them aerodynamically, while the lycans were thicker and more muscular.

Adrian glanced at Damien. “I want to search the area around where Phineas was attacked, and I think it’s time for me to visit the Navajo Lake pack again.”

Damien nodded and stood. “I’ll send a reconnaissance team ahead to secure the base.”

“No. That would allude to fear and distrust, which isn’t a message I want to send.”

“Send a different message then,” Lindsay suggested. “A real one, letting them know you’re coming.”

Both angels looked at her.

She waved one hand in a careless gesture. “I don’t know what’s going on, so maybe I’m off base, but it sounds like you’re going someplace that poses a risk and you don’t want the people you’re visiting to know you consider it risky. So . . . let ’em see you coming. Announce it. That shows fearlessness—you’re handing them the opportunity to do whatever it is you’re worried about. But first, run with Damien’s reconnaissance idea, but on the down low. Canvass the area without them knowing. Put some people around to scope the place out before you send the message that you’re coming. Then watch what they do when they get it.”

Damien’s gaze narrowed. “Lycans have a strong sense of smell. They would know they were being watched.”

“So send some lycans you trust to do the job.” When she was met with heavy silence, her brows rose. “You don’t have any lycans you trust? Then why are they your bodyguards? Keeping your enemies close?”

Adrian gestured for Damien to leave with a jerk of his chin.

Lindsay watched the angel depart. “Alrighty then. Teaches me to speak out of turn.”

Unfolding from his chair, Adrian stood. “It’s a sound, intelligent plan. I look forward to utilizing your input today and in the future.”

“Flatterer.” She wondered where he was going and what she was expected to do in his absence. She needed to call her father, then take some time to figure out what she was going to do about her job.

He came around the table. “Would you come with me for a few moments?”

“Yes.”

He pulled the chair out for her, then set his hand at her lower back. The heat of his palm soaked through her thin tank top, perversely sending goose bumps spreading across her skin. He led her to the railing, away from the others. She was highly aware of his shoulder pressing against the back of hers, and of his scent, which was absolutely delicious. If she could, she’d press her nose into the crook of his neck and inhale deep into her lungs. The fragrance of his skin was addictive, intoxicating . . . Familiar.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, his breath gusting softly over the shell of her ear.

“I don’t know you,” she whispered back, racked by a shiver of delight.

They stopped at the end of the deck.

“Okay then.” There was amusement in his low tone. “Will you give me the benefit of the doubt?”

Lindsay faced him. He stepped closer, into her personal space. Close enough that only an inch separated them, and she had to tilt her head back to look into his face. His wings materialized, shielding them from prying eyes. Her gaze slid over him, drinking in the leanly muscled expanse of his torso. The tight lacing of his abs stirred a deep, raw hunger to see them tighten in pleasure as he thrust into her. Sexual awareness sizzled across her skin, tightening her body. She licked dry lips and his eyes followed the movement. She nodded.

“Good.” He caught her close, one arm banding around her shoulder blades, the other hitching beneath the curve of her ass.

Every hard inch of him was pressed up tight against her. She felt his cock stir against her lower belly, inciting an answering ache between her thighs.

Her arms went around his neck. “Adrian—”

“Hold that thought,” he murmured. “And hold on to me.”

He leaped over the railing.

CHAPTER 8

Lindsay screamed as they plummeted. She scrambled to wrap herself around Adrian’s lean frame, her legs flailing. His lips pressed to her temple and she fell silent, the terror draining out of her, rushing from her body at the point where he kissed her. His wings spread and they caught air, soaring.

“Aerodynamically,” he said calmly, “I need you not to wiggle.”

Ticked off that he’d given her no warning, she nipped at his neck with her teeth. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid of heights!” Her legs pretzeled around his.

“You’re afraid of falling,” he corrected, nuzzling his lips against her cheek. “I would never let you fall.”