Page 14 of Guardian Angel
Not letting go of her wrist, I forcibly moved her hand around to my back, where my wings met my shoulder blades.
Her touch on the sensitive skin of my wings had me clenching my jaw so hard I thought something was going to crack. I usually never let anyone touch my wings, especially not so close to my back.
“What do you not understand, baby girl?” I asked through clenched teeth. “What more proof do you need?”
“What are you?” Her fingers stroked up and down the inside of my wing, nearly making my eyes roll back in my head.
“I’m an angel,” I gritted out.
“Your wings are red.”
“Very observant,” I said dryly. “Do you have any other obvious statements you’d like to make while you’re at it? Maybe point out that my hair is blond or my shirt is black?”
“You’re an asshole,” she snapped, finally pulling her hand away from my wings. “How’s that for an obvious statement?”
I grinned at her. I couldn’t tell if I liked the mouth she had on her or if it was going to be the bane of my existence for as long as I was bonded to her.
“Are all angels’ wings red?” she asked. “Because you sort of look like you should be buddies with the horned guys. Other than the fact that you spent most of your encounter stabbing them.”
“No, not all angels have red wings. They’re unique to angels born into the sixth order.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
My wings flared out and then retracted into my back. “I didn’t expect you to, and it’s not important right now. Whatisimportant is you accepting that you need my help. Stop pushing me away and making my job difficult.”
Sierra stared at me with wide emerald eyes. I wondered if she was going to go into shock. Just because the girl had managed to kill a lord of Hell didn’t mean she was ready for anything that was coming for her.
“What happens if I agree that I might need help?”
“There’s no might. This isn’t a debate.”
“Fine.” She threw her hands up in the air likeIwas the one being difficult and childish. “I need your help. Happy?”
“Not particularly,” I muttered under my breath.
She scowled at me, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. She looked about as threatening as a teddy bear. Sierra was tiny—not exactly delicate or fragile-looking, just small. She had to be a full foot shorter than me, and her wide eyes and face full of freckles made her look innocent, though her curves admittedly didn’t. She had the most perfect ass I’d seen on Heaven or Earth.
“Nathaniel.” Her sharp voice snapped me out of my less-than-helpful thought pattern.
I looked away from her, finally getting around to checking out our surroundings. We were standing on a gravel path that ran along a wide river. Thankfully the path wasn’t a popular place to spend a Saturday night, and there were no other humans to worry about. Sierra didn’t seem like a big partier. That was at least one small blessing in this nightmare of a job.
“What am I going to do?” she whispered. For the first time, she sounded scared. It was only then that I realized she hadn’t seemed at all frightened when I showed up at the graveyard yesterday and told her she was in over her head. Sierra Meyers was a fighter, and asking her to accept that this was a fight she couldn’t win was stripping her of an armor she was used to wearing proudly. I wasn’t sure if it was the demons or me that had put that anxiety in her tone.
“You’re going to let me come home with you,” I said gently, choosing to prove that I was capable of not being a dick. “I promise you, Sierra, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re not alone in this. I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t care what Hell sends after you. They will not touch you.”
Her eyes were lowered, staring at either the ground or my boots. Either way, she wasn’t meeting my eyes. I was tempted to put my hands on her cheeks and force her to look at me. It didn’t matter that she was a job or that I was here against my will. Every word I’d said was the truth. Sierra could count on me to protect her from all things demonic.
“You can’t come home with me.” She still wasn’t looking at me. “I don’t live alone or have a spare bedroom.”
“I’ll crash on your couch or even your bedroom floor. It doesn’t matter.”
Her head snapped up at that, her eyes finding mine. “You’re offering to sleep on my floor?”
It beat the bench I slept on last night. “I mean, a couch is preferable.”
“Why are you doing this? Why do you care what happens to me?”
I could’ve told her it was because Micah had laid down the law and I was powerless to refuse. Could’ve said my angelic duty compelled me to keep humans safe from demons or told her about the bond that had formed between us the moment I set foot on Earth. I honestly don’t know why I didn’t say any of that. Instead, what came out of my mouth was: “Because you need me. And because you don’t deserve any of this.”