Gabe held onto her until the shudders wracking her body finally eased. Mortals generally fell apart—no pun intended—after their first taste of teleportation, and the fact he hadn’t given Aurora any warning meant she’d likely go into shock.
He wasn’t looking forward to it.
Her hair was soft against his jaw, and the faint scent of strawberries teased the air. It was harder than it should have been not to bury his face in those silken curls and breathe in deep.
Her fingers dug into his shoulder, and he swallowed a groan. His brain might not want to have anything to do with her, but her touch was as potent as a siren’s call.
Slowly, he released his death grip. Her hand slid from his shoulder and pressed against his chest before she raised her head.
Her eyes were glazed, her lips parted. Grimly, he steeled himself for her inevitable hysterics. No good deed goes unpunished.
“What happened?” Her voice was hushed.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe from them, now.”
“Safe?” she echoed, and her brow crinkled as her gaze slipped from his. Her body went rigid as her shocked glance skimmed over his expansive kitchen, and she hitched in a choked breath. The silver frame she’d brought with her clattered to the floor, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Where am I?”
Somewhere you shouldn’t be.
He’d acted without thinking it through. How long would she need to stay here before the Guardians forgot her and moved onto another victim?
He already knew the answer to that. An archangel had interfered, snatching their prey from beneath their nonexistent noses. The vindictive little bastards wouldn’t let that indignity go lightly.
Curse the gods. This was his sanctuary, his bolt-hole, the headquarters for his black ops ventures. He’d never brought a mortal here. But because of one unguarded second, Aurora was not only here—she could be here for weeks.
Great.
“This is my island. They can’t get to you here.”
She took a step back and wrapped her arms around her waist as she gave his kitchen another incredulous glance. Why wasn’t she freaking out?
She cleared her throat. “Did you just pull me through to another dimension?”
Another dimension? That was her first question when her brain registered her surroundings?
It was rare that anyone—let alone a mortal—could leave him speechless, but Aurora came close. “No. Same dimension. But we teleported.”
“Teleported? How is that even possible?”
How could she panic about teleportation when she’d been unnaturally calm by the fact she’d narrowly escaped being ripped apart by the Guardians?
“Trust me. It’s possible.”
She let out a ragged breath, and terror flared in her eyes. Not that he wanted her scared, but at least this reaction made more fucking sense.
“Why would you abduct me?” She glanced wildly around as though searching for escape. “Take me back.”
He wasn’t sure why the word abduct ruffled his phantom feathers. He didn’t give a shit what anyone said, least of all a mortal. And yet her accusation stung.
“I just saved your ass from the Guardians.” What the fuck had happened to his never explain anything rule?
“From the what?”
It was terrifying how ignorant humans were of the universe they inhabited. So sure of their position at the top of the food chain, their immature brains would explode if they discovered just how many alien species truly walked among them.
And that wasn’t even counting the Guardians, who existed in the Voids, a labyrinth construct within the inhospitable Dark Matter, the vast expanses of space between galaxies, where they reigned supreme in their immense, infernal domains.
“The Guardians,” he repeated. “They’re not from Earth. They’re vicious, and if I hadn’t brought you here, they’re the ones who would’ve abducted you.”
A stricken expression flashed across her face. “I saw something moving in that weird violet light. Like it was trying to come through.”
“Hey.” Before he could stop himself, he traced his finger along her cheek. Damn, she felt good. He cradled her jaw and her warm breath against his hand was a seductive caress. “You’re safe here, remember? They can’t penetrate the defenses on my island.”
“I’m safe? God, do you mean they were coming for me?”
They sure as shit hadn’t been there for him. “Not you, personally. But you were there, so they would have taken you. They don’t need a reason except for the fact you’re alive, and you’re not one of them.”
“Was it something I did?” Her whisper reeked of dread, and he had the insane notion to wrap his arms around her, just so she knew he was there for her.
What the fuck? The only time he pulled a woman into his arms was if he wanted sex. And although he still wanted Aurora, despite her heritage, sex hadn’t been the overriding factor just now.
Same as it hadn’t when he’d snatched her from the jaws of the Guardians.
His hand tensed against her face, but he didn’t break contact. Until he’d met her, sex hadn’t crossed his mind in decades.
Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“It wasn’t anything you did.” He ground the words between his teeth. And once again guilt ate through him at the possibility the Guardians had singled her out because of him.
He couldn’t imagine how, but the ways of the Guardians were shrouded in mystery. He wouldn’t put anything past them.
“When can I go home?”
“When it’s safe.”
“But how long might that be?”
Gods, how many more questions was she going to fire at him? And why was he still touching her? It was harder than it should have been to drop his hand to his side. “When I decide it’s safe.”
She didn’t respond, but he could see the doubt in her beautiful blue eyes. It was a novel phenomenon. No one looked at him with doubt. If anyone had the nerve to disbelieve his word, they at least averted their gaze if they wanted to live.
She attempted to protect me. Even now, he could hardly believe it. But it was the only reason he tolerated her lack of reverence. He inhaled a deep breath. With a few ground rules he’d get through the next few weeks without too much … inconvenience.
“How do you know so much about them?” She didn’t try to hide the suspicion in her voice.
“Enough.” He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t need to. The low, hypnotic note was enough to silence any species, never mind one as primitive as humans. He never explained himself, and he wasn’t into charity work. Since meeting Aurora, he was breaking every damn rule in his book.
No more.
He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had questioned every word he said.
Yes, I can.
Despair clawed through his chest, interwoven with the guilt that had once all but destroyed him. Would he never find peace?
I don’t deserve peace.
He crushed the memory before it consumed him. It was too long ago, and nothing could change the past. Although he’d give everything, just for the chance.
His current headache stood before him, glaring at him as though they were equals. Expecting a reply. With anyone else, he’d let them wait forever. Why couldn’t he dismiss Aurora that easily?
“Believe me, I’ll return you as soon as possible. I don’t want you on my island any longer than necessary.”
Without taking her gaze from him, she pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. She jabbed the screen a few times with her thumb. “There’s no signal.”
Wasn’t that the truth. In more ways than she could imagine. “Nothing gets in, and nothing gets out, without my permission.”
She shivered, like he’d just threatened her instead of attempting to reassure her—yet again—that she was safe.
“Your island.” She licked her lips. Stop looking at her damn lips. “Are we still on Earth?”
“Yeah.” The irony never faded. Earth had become his hell, yet it was still the nearest thing he called home. And now the niceties were out of the way, he’d lay down the ground rules. “While you’re here, you can go anywhere. Except my office. Understood?”
“But—”
He cursed violently in the language of the ancients. Would she never simply accept his word? She gazed at him, apparently fascinated. If he didn’t get away from her right now, he was going to plunder that disrespectful mouth of hers until she was a mindless wreck at his feet.
The image was so fucking tempting. He clenched his teeth and swung away from her. In all his long existence, only one woman hadn’t fallen at his feet and worshipped his immortal existence. He’d been enchanted. Ensnared. Would have torn Earth apart for her and rejected his heritage, if she had asked.
Never again.
And never for a human. Even if Aurora’s inexplicable immunity to his archangelic magnetism was intriguing. She wanted him, but pushed him away, and he wasn’t going to waste another nanosecond thinking about her.
He marched upstairs and into his bedroom, where his sweeping balcony gave a panoramic view of the subtropical forest surrounding his villa.
His sanctuary. But once, it had been his prison.
He rolled his shoulders, but it didn’t stop the ancient need that simmered deep in the ruined tangle of muscle and sinew that gouged his back. A constant reminder of all he had lost.
During those dark years, he hadn’t cared. He’d welcomed his deformity, flaunted his scars, and enjoyed a twisted sense of satisfaction in the fact he no longer possessed that which defined his species.
It hadn’t lasted long. A few insane decades, and then reality had crashed through his haze of guilt and grief.
The reality that he would never again experience the exhilarating freedom of soaring through the skies.
Razor sharp frustration and unwanted lust pounded through him, and every cell in his body screamed for release. To know once again the power and ecstasy of spreading his wings and owning the heavens.
Aurora’s face flooded his mind, her innocent blue eyes stoking the fire in his blood. Get out of my head. Why did he think of her?
It was intolerable.
Yet something about her had awakened his libido, and now it roared like a caged beast, demanding satisfaction. No way would he chase her like a lust blinded mortal. But if she came to him, he’d take her, and this infuriating fascination with her would end.
But right now, he had a far more urgent priority.
To find the missing child.