Page 22 of Guardian Angel
Nathaniel
Some babysitter I made.Less than twenty-four hours after walking into Sierra’s apartment, I was watching her walk out of it.
I wanted to insist she stay home, but she was right. The chances of any demon coming for her in a church full of people were next to none. Demons might not have the strongest moral code, but even they followed a certain set of rules. A human who killed a certain lord of Hell was free game. Attacking her in front of a hundred other humans at a Sunday-morning service was not.
Still, I really should have gone with her. Micah would probably castrate me if he knew why I’d stayed behind and let her go to church without me. I was her guardian angel, for fuck’s sake. My emotions and past weren’t supposed to matter more than keeping Sierra safe. But when she’d said the wordfamily, I couldn’t make her stay and I couldn’t make myself go.
Kylie left shortly after Sierra but not before warning me that she’d figure out some way to murder or maim me if I hurt her friend.
Alone in the apartment, I did the dishes—because I was apparently the help around here now—and took a quick shower. Once I was dressed with my knives securely tucked into my boots, I dropped onto the couch. I needed to train, but that wasn’t going to happen here. I doubted this apartment complex even had a basic gym, and Sierra didn’t have space for so much as a punching bag in this place.
With nothing productive to do, I rummaged through my backpack for the sketchbook and pencils I’d brought with me from home. Drawing was my therapy. I’d started after the worst night of my life, and it had become my lifeline after I joined the secret order.
Nearly two hours later, I had a picture of Sierra as she’d looked the first time I saw her in the graveyard. Her long hair blew across her face, and her lips were just barely parted. She looked innocent, but her eyes danced with challenge. She was a walking contradiction—so fragile and so stupidly fearless at the same time.
I heard the click of the lock turning in the back door and shoved the sketchbook into my bag before Sierra could see it. I debated turning on the TV so she wouldn’t ask what I’d been doing for the past two hours, but I didn’t want her to think I was capable of tolerating the thing.
I watched her come in, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looked happy, recharged. It was a good look on her and one I realized I’d yet to see.
Her emerald eyes landed on me. “I’m never going to get used to this.” She dumped her keys on the end table and walked by me on her way to the kitchen. “Do you want lunch?”
I watched her through the window between the kitchen and living room as she pulled containers out of the fridge and dishes from the cabinet.
“Sometime today, Nathaniel. Do you want any of this or not?”
“Is there some kind of rush?” I raised my brows at her, but she didn’t look my way.
“Yeah. I want to do laundry, and I have a shift at three.” She was already piling one plate with food and sticking it in the microwave.
“A shift,” I repeated, unimpressed. There was no way I was letting her leave the house again today. Once was being generous enough.
“Yes, a shift. I happen to have a job to keep.”
“Call out sick.”
She looked at me then, her eyes flashing either with anger or frustration. I hadn’t known her long enough to guess her emotions, and frankly I hadn’t bothered to try to figure her out.
“For how long, exactly? Because you still haven’t told me when this arrangement ends and I can go back to my life without worrying about demons trying to kill me.”
“I told you already. I don’t know when this ends,” I said through gritted teeth. I hated the not knowing at least as much as she did. I got that it was inconvenient for her to have to worry about attacks, but she was still living in her own apartment, in her own dimension. So forgive me if I didn’t feel terribly sorry for her. I hated Earth, humans, and just about everything from the second I’d stepped off the elevator Friday afternoon… other than the minute I spent killing the three demons who’d come after her last night.
“And what? You expect me to just stay in here all the time?” Sierra perched her hands on her hips and glared at me. “How am I supposed to buy food, toiletries, clothes?”
“Isn’t that what Amazon Prime and online ordering are for?”
“And I’ll be paying for it with what money exactly, since I can’t go to my job?”
“I have money.”
She shook her head as if I’d said something she found incredibly stupid rather than offering to take care of all her bills. “I’m not hiding in my apartment for the rest of my life or until you deem it safe for me to go outside.”
“You just went out this morning,” I growled. Was it asking too much for her to just listen and do what would keep her safe? What was so damn special about going to work as a barista?
“And no one tried to kill me,” she retorted. “Look, you can’t stop me from living my life.”
“Actually, I can,” I said coolly.
“Oh? Planning on putting me in handcuffs? Tying me to a chair? Or maybe you’ll just off me yourself and make your life so much easier?”