Sylvia Day: A Touch of Crimson

His gaze met those of his lycan guards, who were sitting a few rows away on either side. They were observant, curious. They couldn’t help but see that he was reacting differently to Lindsay than he did to other women. The last time Shadoe’s soul had been with him, neither of the two lycans had been born yet, but they knew his personal life. They knew how little attention he paid to the opposite sex.

He would need more than two guards now that he could resume his hunt for Syre, and Lindsay would need her own dedicated protection. Adrian knew he’d have to manipulate that carefully. She was young-twenty-five at most-and starting out on her own in a new place. Now was the time for her to broaden her horizons, not find out that her new lover was micromanaging her life.

Lindsay rolled her straw between her fingers, her soft pink lips hovering momentarily before parting for a sip.

A wash of heat swept over him. Even the knowledge that he would lose her again, that he was forsaking his duty once again, couldn’t dampen the rush of desire quickening his blood. He wanted those lips on his skin, needed to feel them sliding across his flesh, whispering both raw and tender words as they teased him mercilessly. Although the Sentinels had been forbidden to love and mate with mortals, nothing could convince Adrian that Shadoe hadn’t been born to belong to him.

She talked to her dad on the phone…

He grew very still.

Adrian kept his face impassive, but he was intensely alert. Shadoe’s various incarnations had always been raised by a single-parent mother, never by a father. It was as if Syre had marked her soul when he’d begun the Change that would have transformed her into a vampire, ensuring that no other man would ever take his paternal role in her life. “Are your parents in Raleigh?”

A shadow passed over her features. “My dad is. My mother died when I was five.”

His fingers flexed restlessly. The order of her parents’ deaths had never been mutable.

His long-stable world had canted that morning, and Lindsay Gibson continued to challenge his balance, causing the objects around him to begin a slow slide away from their predetermined place. The lycans had been growing more agitated by the day, the vampires had crossed a precipitous line with the death of Phineas and the attack in the helicopter, and now Shadoe had returned after an interminable absence with the most basic pattern of her reincarnations altered.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he murmured, adopting the customary remark offered to grieving mortals who so often viewed death as a sorrowful ending.

“Thank you. How about your family? Big or small?”

“Big. Lots of siblings.”

“I envy you. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. My dad didn’t remarry. He never got over my mom.”

Adrian had become adept at winning over her mothers. Men, however, tended to give him a wide berth regardless of any efforts he made to put them at ease. They instinctively sensed the power in him; there could be only one Alpha in a designated space, and he was it. Gaining acceptance from her father might take some work, but it would be worth the time and investment. Familial support was just one of the many avenues he utilized to gain her complete and total surrender, which was the only way he could bear to have her. No holds barred.

He touched the back of her hand where it rested lightly on the armrest, relishing the charge he got from the simple contact. He heard the elevated beat of her heart as if his ear were pressed to her chest. Over the paging of flight information, boarding calls, and gate changes, the strong and steady rhythm of her heartbeat was crystal clear and deeply beloved. “Some women are unforgettable.”

“You sound like a romantic.”

“Does that surprise you?”

Her lips curved gently. “Nothing surprises me.”

His heart ached at that smile. He’d gone too long without her, and his wait was hardly over. While she couldn’t fail to feel the pull between them, she didn’t love him. He’d have only her body for a time, which would soothe the sharpest edge of his need but still leave him wanting.

His attention diverted to Elijah, who’d pushed to his feet and moved off the carpeted waiting area to the main concourse. The lycans were uncomfortable in enclosed, crowded spaces. Adrian could have chartered a flight or waited for one of his own planes-either action would have spared his guards their discomfort-but he’d needed to send a message to any vampire stupid enough to think he might have been weakened by the aerial ambush or the loss of his second: Come and try me again.

“You love surprises,” she guessed.

Adrian looked at her. “Hate them. Except when they’re you.”

Lindsay laughed softly. A forgotten warmth stirred in his chest.

A young woman pushing a stroller and carrying a fussy infant headed toward the gate counter via the carpeted pathway directly in front of them. As she argued with a toddler dragging a small carry-on, Adrian’s phone rang. He excused himself from Lindsay and stepped a short distance away.

The caller ID on his phone showed a number, but no name. “Mitchell,” he answered.

“Adrian.” The icy voice was instantly recognizable.

Primal aggression spurred Adrian’s pulse. Lightning split the sky in tandem, followed by the roar of thunder. “Syre.”

“You have something that belongs to me.”

Turning his head with feigned nonchalance, Adrian searched for surveillance. Was it possible Syre had found his daughter first and was tracking her? “What might that be?”

“Don’t be coy, Adrian. It doesn’t suit you. Lovely brunette. Female. Petite. You will give her back-unharmed.”

Adrian relaxed. “If you’re referring to the rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth bitch who attacked me today, I broke her heart. Crushed it in my fist, to be precise.”

There was a long, terrible stretch of silence. Then, “Nikki was the kindest woman I’ve ever met.”

“If that’s your definition of ‘kind,’ I’ve been too lenient. Try a stunt like that again,” he warned smoothly, “and I’ll put you all down.”

“You haven’t the authority or the right. Watch that God complex of yours, Adrian, or you’ll end up like me.”

Turning away from Lindsay’s vigilant gaze, Adrian breathed carefully through his seething wrath. He was a seraph, a Sentinel. He was expected to stand above the vagaries of human emotions. Betraying otherwise-through his tone of voice or actions-exposed an unconscionable vulnerability. What was done could not be undone; his mortal love tethered him to the earth, holding him away from the serenity of the heavens.

“You have no idea what I’m authorized to do,” he said evenly. “She attacked in broad daylight, proving that one of your Fallen ranks-maybe you -fed her in the last forty-eight hours. That opens the door for me to defend myself and my Sentinels in whatever manner I see fit. Think harder before sending another suicidal minion my way. I’m not Phineas; you and I have already established that a fight with me is one you can’t win.”

It was the truth… albeit oversimplified. Syre lacked the formal combat training that honed the Sentinels, but he’d had centuries to perfect guerrilla tactics. He was also older and wiser for his mistakes, and growing as restless as the lycans. His vampires would follow him into Hell if he asked them to. All of which made him exceedingly dangerous. While Adrian knew he could best Syre again, it would not be as easily accomplished the next time.

And Lindsay Gibson would be caught in the middle.

“Maybe winning isn’t the goal,” Syre taunted.

Casting a possessive glance at Lindsay, Adrian was acutely aware of the misery he was destined to bring into her life. But he couldn’t walk away. Between himself and Syre, he was the lesser of two evils.