Sylvia Day - A Touch of Crimson

“Are they slaves?” She looked at him again. “Adrian?”

He’d paused with his hands in his duffel bag, frowning. “I’ve always used the word ‘indentured.’ ”

“That’s a form of servitude.”

“I don’t abuse them. I make every attempt to see to their comfort. I try, in all ways, to be fair to them.”

“But they can’t quit? Or leave?”

His chest lifted and fell on a deep breath. “No.”

“Yeah… I see a problem there.”

“But neither can the Sentinels. Or the vampires. We’re all trapped in our roles, which were established eons ago. This push and pull between us-it’s bigger than all of us. The brutal fact of the matter is, if the lycans don’t help me keep things together, there won’t be a world to be free in.”

Lindsay pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I understand what you’re saying. But I still don’t like it.”

“You think I do?”

“No, I don’t think you do. I don’t think you have it in you to like it, which is why I wonder how you’ve done it for so long.”

“I’m a soldier, Linds. I’m given orders and I follow them. It’s all I can do.”

There was something in the softness of his tone that made him seem so alone. As alone as she’d often felt over the years. She held her hand out to him. “I’d like for you to tell me what happened over the last week.”

He crossed the room to her. Not here, he mouthed, catching her fingers with his own. He pulled her up, then tugged her out onto the wraparound deck.

Stepping into his arms, she said, “Wait a minute before you take off.”

“Are you still scared?”

“Not right now, but I will be in a minute.” She smiled, knowing there was nowhere else she’d rather be than with Adrian. All the restlessness that had been vibrating within her for the last week-and most of her life before that-was gone, replaced by a languidness that came from more than great sex. It came from him alone. He centered her. “I just love the way your body feels against mine when you’re exerting yourself. And since this is pretty much the only guilt-free way to have you doing that, I want to make sure I enjoy every minute.”

His hands slid to her hips and urged her against him. “Anytime you want me to exert myself against you, just ask.”

Lindsay wrapped herself around him from shoulder to ankle. “You know I can’t do that.”

He looked down at her with eyes that were hot with desire and soft with affection. “Yes. I know, neshama . Ready?”

She nodded.

His wings snapped open and he leaped over the low railing. They caught air and soared over the darkened hills with the wind singing softly. In the near distance, the lights of the city twinkled like a blanket of multicolored stars.

The flight was over too quickly. Adrian landed a few miles away, directly in front of a metal-sided building that sat unlit on a barren plateau.

“Where are we?” she asked breathlessly, her heartbeat still wild from exhilaration.

“One of the training camps. If you like, you’ll be enduring it tomorrow.”

He opened the door and the fluorescent lights flickered on automatically, revealing a large warehouse-type room with a half dozen bunk beds, two sofas, and walls covered in every weapon she knew of as well as several she’d never seen. It was like a giant man-cave great room, homicidal-style.

“Why,” she queried, “do lycans and Sentinels, who have such awesome natural defense mechanisms, need any of these things?”

“Because the vamps use them. We need to know how to fend off attacks made with these weapons and to improvise, if any of them should fall into our hands.”

Admiring a blade that looked somewhat like a scythe, Lindsay looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m worried about how the other Sentinels will deal with me training with them.”

Adrian stood nearby, watching her with heated pride. “Let me worry about them.”

“I don’t want to cause problems for you, Adrian. And that’s all I’m doing. I hate that.”

“I woke this morning praying for the end to come quickly. Now I have you, and the end is the last thing I want.”

Lindsay couldn’t stop the tear that ran down her cheek. She could be strong about a lot of things, but Adrian’s tenderness had been devastating her from the beginning. He made her feel as if she was precious to him. It killed her that he would try to give her all of himself, but she would still have only a portion. There was nothing she could do about that except offer him what comfort she could, and refrain from asking for anything in return. “Talk to me. Tell me why you were ready to give up.”

His wings flexed restlessly. The pearlescent backdrop showcased his dark beauty to breathtaking effect.

After her mother had died, she’d been so angry. She had railed at the entity other people believed in, the God others claimed was so generous and loving. She’d found little in life to redeem her lost faith in a benevolent higher power, but Adrian’s existence softened that skepticism. If the same being who’d allowed her mother to be brutally murdered was also responsible for creating Adrian, then there was something magical and praiseworthy in the world, even if none of it was ever shared willingly with her.

“The Sentinel I lost was a friend,” he said softly, inadvertently wounding her with his pain. “But more than that, she was a pristine example of what a seraph should be. She was pure of spirit and purpose, focused solely on our mission.”

She moved toward him, reaching for his hand and clasping it in her own. So much death. He’d dealt with too much of it. “Another vamp attack?”

“That would have been kinder than the reality.”

She stepped closer and he embraced her, settling his chin atop the crown of her head. Her connection to him in that moment rocked her. In a remote hillside warehouse, surrounded by implements of destruction and the arms of an angel, she felt at peace in a way she never had before. “You said you’d have to hurt someone you cared about.”

“She fell in love,” he murmured. “With a lycan.”

“That’s bad?”

“It’s impossible.”

“Why? Lycans aren’t mortals.”

He barked a humorless, bitter laugh. “Helena said the same thing, but seraphim aren’t designed to experience mortal love. We’re not supposed to have mates. She wanted my blessing. She hoped I would give it to her, because I have you. But it’s not my place to make that decision. It’s my responsibility to keep the Sentinels on the right path.”

Lindsay felt the progress she’d recently made in regard to having some faith backslide again. How could love, in any form, be wrong? “What did she do?”

As he explained the actions Helena had taken, Lindsay’s blood chilled and goose bumps spread across her skin. She relived the horror and agony of that night with him, her shoulders sagging under the growing weight of his despair. There was no greater proof of the impossibility of loving Adrian than the suicide of Helena and her beloved lycan.

“Jesus,” she whispered when he was done. “I can’t imagine.”

“I can.” His chest expanded with a deep inhalation. “I have.”

Her heart stopped, then lurched into a double-time rhythm. She pulled back and glared up at him.

“I swear to you-” Her voice cracked, forcing her to clear her throat before continuing. “If you ever try something like that, I’ll make you regret it.”

His lips pressed to her forehead. “You worry too much about me.”

“I’m serious.” Her fingers dug into his waist. “Whatever consequences we face for being together is out of our hands. We don’t need to borrow trouble on top of that.”