Balancing the food with one arm, he lifted his fingers to the gold G on his collar. He’d hate to back out now, but he couldn’t allow Lex to end up with a poacher. What sort of Guardian would he be if he allowed such a thing, anyway?
He wouldn’t tolerate her mating someone like Leigh, either.
On one hand, it wasn’t a decision to make hastily. On the other hand, he couldn’t waste Lark’s time when he carried a reservation like this. He’d talk to the Guardian that afternoon, get a feel for his opinion. Jett couldn’t disclose Lexine’s dreams and betray her trust, but taking or not taking a mate was no small issue itself. Hopefully, Lark would be willing to discuss the topic. Something had happened between him and a female at some point, and he clearly carried a lingering wound associated with her.
Jett opened the door and went upstairs.
Eyes closed, Lexine lay in bed, the embroidered blanket covering her lower half. Her head rested on her outstretched arm and her loose hair draped over the edge of the bed.
He ran his tongue over his fangs. “Hello, beauty.”
“Hey.” She opened her eyes and sat up. “Is that bacon?”
“You bet.”
He joined her on the bed, smoothed the blanket, and laid out the plates. Drawn in, he caught her mouth in kiss.
“Where was it you wanted to take me this morning? Before we got sidetracked.” Lexine went for the bacon first, shutting her eyes as she bit off a piece.
“My father’s office in the town hall. It’ll be my first time there.”
Her eyes widened.
“I don’t need company. But, I do want yours. If you don’t mind.”
“I’m glad that you want me with you.”
Tension eased from his shoulders. “Good.” He con-centrated on her emotions, letting his mind open to them. “We’ll go another day, though. I need to get back to training in a couple hours.”
Disappointment radiated off her, as well as bitter accept-ance.
“I won’t let training keep me from seeing you, Lex.”
Her smile at odds with her emotions, she shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to give you drama.”
“I’d rather have drama and honesty than no drama and you keeping things from me.”
She glowered and folded her arms. “My thoughts are my own, Jett.”
“I can’t read your thoughts. Just your emotions.”
“Already?”
“I need to concentrate, but, yes.”
She set her empty plate on a table and curled up on her side, her head in his lap. “Honestly? I want to keep you here, all to myself. But I’d never want you to change, either.”
“And that’s exactly why I think this will work.” He hoped it would work, but a nagging knot in his gut reminded him that nothing beyond their growing connection and friendship was stacked in their favor.
…
“It’s the job of the other Guardians to detect intruders crossing onto Sanctuary’s land. Keeping the colony safe is not our job. We are the last line of defense for the archangels.”
Jett followed Lark through the woods in a circle around the archangel house. Lark alternated between lecturing and lapsing into silence, turning his full attention to his surroundings, always alert. After five total weeks of training, Jett grew more accustomed to the same behavior with each passing day. He listened to his partner’s words but always focused first and foremost on any potential threat from the sounds, scents, and shadows of the forest.
“Sanctuary has thousands of acres of land and miles of border, outside of which is nothing but tens of thousands of acres of Vermont state forest. Monitoring every foot of the colony’s border at any given moment is impossible, even with the security cameras we’ve acquired. It’s imperative that I, soon you and I, keep a secure perimeter in close proximity to the family. While I prefer to find and fight any threat out here, I—we—need to be close enough to be at the archangels’ sides at a moment’s notice.”
They completed the trip around the house and came out of the woods at the lakeshore, the stone house towering to their left. Raphael flew overhead, high enough to be a white smudge against the dark blue, early evening sky.
“Our proximity to the house is a moot point when they’re up there,” Jett said. At least no human would be able to shoot a target that high.
“They can’t be one hundred percent safe all the time, as aggravating as that is. It’s important to remember that the archangels aren’t helpless, other than the infants, and don’t appreciate being treated as such. I’ve never seen Raphael act like a victim, and I expect no different from Wren from what I’ve seen. When Kora and young Wren were in danger, Raphael took matters into his own hands with a pair of combat knives. He’s not bad at hand-to-hand fighting. I taught him myself. Wren and Ginger have the ability to kill with just skin contact and they’ve both used that psychic talent without hesitation. That said, they aren’t battle-hardened warriors, and wings make for large, clumsy targets on the ground. We’re here to keep them out of fights they cannot hope to win.”
Lark climbed the gnarled, massive oak tree that dominated the property, its crown wider and taller than the house. Jett followed, and they crouched on thick branches halfway up the tree’s height.
“I often watch from here at night,” Lark said. “It’s the best view from any one spot, and the acoustics are just right to hear anyone approach from any direction. Ideally, though, we should split up and take opposite ends of the property. At night—when the archangels are all inside, sleeping—is a good time for you to exercise that free will you’re always bellyaching about, and do other things. Scrapbooking, perhaps?”
“Fuck off.” Jett grinned and turned his attention to the house. Illumination spilled out from the fourth-floor windows—Wren and Ginger’s rooms. Raphael landed on the third-floor flight deck and went inside. More lights came on.
“That’s the second time he’s gone for a lengthy flight today. He does that when he’s stressed.”
Jett focused on that inner place in his mind that never seemed to be his own. There, he found emotions that weren’t his, like voices from dreams. Indeed, some days finding them was like trying to remember the details of a dream, but now that he understood the ability, every day showed improvement.
Yes, Raphael had something on his mind. But the sensation of intense worry gave no clue as to the cause. “Should we go inside and talk to him?”
Lark shook his head, but frowned deeply. “Not everything that goes on in that house concerns us. If it’s relevant to their safety, he’ll confide in us.”
“But—”
“I know it’s frustrating, but this level of security would make them miserable if we didn’t respect their privacy as much as possible.” The frown lifted in a slow grin. “Kora threw a shoe at me once.”
Jett chuckled. “I’m sure you deserved it.”
“Certainly not!” A pause. “Maybe a little bit. Raphael, the bastard, thought it was pretty damned funny. The second shoe went in his direction. Justice.”
Movement drew Jett’s gaze to the single door on the ground level of the house. Lexine stepped outside, spoke for a moment with Ginger, who stood smiling in the doorway, then headed down the path.
“Tell me the honest truth.”
Lark cocked his head.
“With a job like this, would I be able to carve out enough time to devote to her?”
Lark didn’t answer for a minute. “We could work something out. It wouldn’t be perfect or consistent, but if she’s the right girl, she’d be understanding. It’s a lot of ask of a female.”
“Yeah. Was it too much to ask of yours?”
With a low curse, Lark shifted out of his crouch on the branch and sat on his butt, letting his legs dangle. “You’re not going to let that drop.”