Bound Guardian Angel (39 page)

Their heads shot up and around, fear
catapulting into their expressions. In an instant, they scuttled
away from each other, pulling their clothes back into place as they
clambered to their feet. Leon’s erection left nothing to the
imagination. Riley’s downturned face was shaded bright red.

“What are you two doing out here?” Cordray
stormed toward Leon, seeing Gideon. “How could you do this to her?
She’s innocent. Only a child.”

“It’s not like that,” Riley said, reaching
for Leon.

Cordray batted her hand away. “Don’t touch
him.”

“But I love him!” Riley’s eyes filled with
tears.

“And I love her!” Leon’s hand shot out and
grabbed Riley’s before Cordray could prevent it.

Cordray saw red. How could they know what
love was? Or how Riley’s love for him would destroy her when they
reached the end of their transformation into adult vampires?

“Love doesn’t matter!” Her anger flared.
“When you’ve grown up and come of age, you’ll understand that
whether or not you love one another won’t make a damn bit of
difference.” She glared at Riley as she pointed at Leon. “How many
times do I have to tell you this, Riley? He will take a mate, and
the odds are stacked against you that you will be the one his body
chooses. And where will that leave you?” Then she turned her ire on
Leon. “And what if another mates Riley? What will you do then?
Because King Bain’s laws are explicit. A mated male’s rights are
sacrosanct. His rights to her body will trump your love for her, no
matter how long you’ve been together, and you will be left out in
the cold.”

Leon’s face warped into a mask of anger and
refusal. “That won’t happen.”

She laughed bitterly. “Oh, really. And you
know this how? From your vast experience as an adult vampire?”

Leon’s face flushed, and he dropped his gaze
to his feet.

“I thought so.” Cordray paced away. “Do you
really think you’ll stand a chance if another male waltzes into
Riley’s life and mates her? You won’t, Leon. She will be obligated
to answer her mate’s call. She won’t be able to resist it. I’ve
told both of you this time and again, and yet here I find you
together, screwing one another as if you think you have forever in
front of you. But you don’t!” She slammed the side of her fist
against the wall as she turned on Riley. “Is this really what you
want? This pain? Because I can assure you, pain is all you’ll have
when one of you mates someone else.”

Unless, like her, the agony ended up being
so raw that it annihilated every nerve ending so that she never
felt anything again.

“I don’t care!” Riley’s fierce grasp on
Leon’s hand turned her knuckles white. “I love him
now
. And
he loves
me
now. I want him and he wants me. What’s so wrong
with that?”

“Everything!” Cordray clenched her fists.
Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t they understand?

Leon wrapped his arm around Riley’s
shoulders and tucked her protectively against his body, the way a
mate would. “We can’t live for what tomorrow
might
bring,
C,” he said, his voice unusually calm. Remarkably confident.
“Because tomorrow might not come. And if it doesn’t, I don’t want
to waste even a moment I could have spent with her.”

Cordray’s eyes tightened as she studied
Leon. He spoke beyond his years, his voice strong and sure despite
his usually quiet demeanor. It was clear he had thought about this
a lot, and when Cordray glanced at Riley, it was obvious she had,
too.

Riley’s gaze implored her. “C, we can’t
control what happens tomorrow, next week, or years from now. We can
only control what we do today. And today, I love Leon. I want to be
with him. I want to plan a life with him.” She paused, looked at
the dusty, straw-strewn floor, and said in a small voice, “If he
ends up not being my mate, I’ll cross that bridge when I have to.
For now, can’t you just let us be happy with one another? Can’t you
just let us enjoy what we have while we have it?”

Cordray rocked back. Riley knew the risks,
as well as the unattractive odds that Leon might not end up being
her mate. So did Leon. But they refused to let the possibility of a
stark future affect them in the present. Like a cancer patient who
knows he only has three months to live, Riley and Leon wanted to
make the most of those three months, not live in fear of the
end.

Because of her painful past, Cordray only
saw the suffering Riley and Leon were destined for. When she’d been
their age, she had only felt the thrill Gideon had given her, not
the fear of their relationship’s inevitable doom. Love and elation
had ruled her decisions. Her awareness had been dominated by the
way her heart skipped when she saw him ride around the bend in the
lane, his gaze lifting to the window where he knew he would find
her waiting and watching for him. In her youth, Cordray would have
retaliated against anyone who tried to warn her away from Gideon
the same way Riley and Leon resisted her now.

With the gift of hindsight, would she really
have done anything differently? Would she have ended her
relationship with Gideon knowing he would mate someone else?
Knowing that she would lose her sense of touch because of it?

Honestly? No. Because despite the pain,
those all-too-brief years with Gideon were some of the best
memories of her life. How could she purposefully deny herself
that?

“Go inside,” she said quietly as an emotion
she couldn’t describe beat against her heart. “Both of you. We’ll
talk about this later.”

“But—” Leon began to protest.

“Now!” Cordray pointed toward the door. “Go
back to bed. Your
own
beds. You have to be up for school in
a few hours.” Leon was in college, but in vampire years he was
still a juvenile, at least until he completed his transition. While
Riley was old enough to be in college, she had fallen a couple of
grades behind during the turmoil she’d endured before coming to
Asylum, so she was still in her final year of high school.

They hung their heads, and Leon wrapped his
hand securely around Riley’s as he led her toward the open
door.

After they were gone, Cordray slumped into a
deck chair that would eventually find its way to the porch now that
summer was upon them.

Yesterday, Mya had suggested that Trace
might be the mate she’d thought she’d found in Gideon. Could that
be true? Could she be pushing him away for fear he would make her
feel the pain all over again when instead he was her true mate?

Was that why she could feel him?

Was that why she was so drawn to him?

She turned her head in the direction of the
house. Trace was there. So close she could be in his room and
against his body in less than two minutes. Feeling his lips against
hers again.

Feeling!

That alone was enough to terrify her. What
if something happened and her sense of touch shut off again after
she allowed herself to get close to him? She wasn’t sure she could
take that. To be given the sun and stars only to have them all
supernova at the same time would devastate her. The universe had a
reputation for playing cruel tricks on her, so her trust in things
working out this time wasn’t exactly high.

And then there was Micah and Sam. Trace had
a bizarre relationship with them. If he mated her, how would that
pan out?

The mysterious heaviness in her chest
spread. Her shoulders dragged forward, and she bowed her head. Her
hands shook, and she raised her palm and pressed it over her heart,
which felt like it was about to pound out of her chest. She could
barely breathe. Tears broke in her eyes. A moment later, she
squeezed her eyelids shut as a gut-wrenching sob ripped through her
throat.

Fear.

She was afraid.

So much had been taken from her. But now,
when everything she had always wanted might possibly be within
reach, she was too scared to take a chance. Too afraid to risk it
all again for fear the results would turn out the same.

Only a coward would resist taking a chance.
Someone with courage would see the possibility for a very real,
very tragic outcome but not let that stop her cold. Someone with
courage would throw that potential future the proverbial middle
finger and shout, “Fuck you! I’m doing this anyway!”

But for all her bravado, she couldn’t muster
even a single ounce of courage. Trace was right there. Within
reach. And all she wanted to do was run away from him.

If only she had a friend. Someone she could
confide in. Who could listen and offer advice. Trouble was, she
didn’t have a lot of friends. Mya. Brenna. That was about it. But
they weren’t who she needed. She needed someone who was both
impartial and informed. Someone who could serve as a link between
her and Trace. Someone vested in Trace’s future.

Sam.

But was Sam really a friend? They’d share a
couple of laughs, but that was about it.

Fuck it. Maybe she had wussed out on
stealing into Trace’s room and rubbing herself all over him like a
cat in heat, but she still had enough lady balls to face Sam.

She was on her feet in an instant, out the
door, and practically running to the garage.

Snagging her helmet, she shoved it over her
head, swung her leg over the seat of her Ducati, and lit up the
engine.

Seconds later, she gunned the gas and sped
back toward the road.

By the time she arrived at Micah’s home,
desperation had her firmly in its grip.

She pounded on the door, her whole body
clutched so tightly that if one muscle spasmed, she would fall
over.

Sam opened the door and immediately frowned.
“Cordray?”

Without waiting for an invitation, she
rushed inside.

Sam shut the door. “What’s wrong? What
happened? Is it Trace?” Sam hurriedly followed her into the living
room. “Is he okay?”

Of course Sam would worry that her visit was
about Trace. She was practically mated to the guy, living with him,
engaging in threesomes with him, even if she and Trace never
touched each other. At least not in
that
way. Not in a way
that would put his very worthy, very ample cock inside her.

She spun around. “Hit me.”

Sam recoiled. “What? No!”

“Hit me!” She grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled
her forward.

“Stop! I’m not going to hit you. Are you
crazy?”

“Just do it, for God’s sake!
Hit
me!”

Sam stiffened, and for a heartbeat, Cordray
didn’t think she’d do it. And then . . .

Smack!

Sam slapped her then immediately gasped as
she pulled back, hand over her mouth, staring at her as if she were
a freak.

Freak.

Just like Trace. Just like she’d seen in
Trace’s mind when those kids from his childhood had teased and
bullied him, making his life hell.

She was a freak, too, because she couldn’t
feel a thing. She had seen Sam’s hand shoot toward her face. She’d
heard the harsh clap of flesh on flesh. Her head had even snapped
to the side. She possessed all the sensory evidence necessary to
prove Sam had hit her except for the sensation of feeling the
contact.

“Harder, Sam. Hit me harder.”

“Cordray . . .?”

“Just do it!”

SMACK!

This time, Sam struck her with enough force
to knock her sideways. She stumbled then righted herself. Still
nothing. No pain stung her cheek. No lingering echoes fired her
nerve endings.

She was as unfeeling as one of Null’s cold,
heavy rocks. She was a jagged stone. Able to cause pain but not
feel it.

“Harder!” she commanded.

“Cordray, I—what’s going on?” Tears
glistened Sam’s eyes, and her face was contorted in horror mixed
with disgust.

“Just hit me, goddammit!”

This time, Sam’s fist shot out, clocking her
on the chin.

Cordray staggered backward then tripped over
her own feet, spinning and nose-diving to the floor.

“Cordray! Oh God! I’m sorry.” In an instant,
Sam was kneeling beside her, her hands gripping her arms as she
tried to help her up.

But there was no helping her.

Not in the true sense of the word.

She was defunct. Damaged. Broken.

Gideon had broken her.

In one fateful moment, he’d shattered her
heart and stolen her sense of touch. He’d destroyed her.

Tears welled in her eyes. Her throat
tightened abruptly. A moment later, she sobbed, face in the
carpet.

“Why can’t I feel anything?” Until Trace,
she had been able to live with her disability. But now that he’d
reminded her of all she’d lost, she just wanted it back.

Sam stopped trying to help her. Instead, she
brushed Cordray’s hair off her face, sniffling. “What do you mean?
Are you saying you can’t feel?”

She shook her head.

“At all?”

Cordray shook her head again. “Nothing.” She
squeezed her eyes shut. “What’s wrong with me?”

Sam sniffled again. “You’re asking the wrong
person, Cordray. I’m out of my depth here.”

Cordray lifted her head and looked at her.
Two wet trails extended down Sam’s face, one on each cheek. A tear
dripped off her chin.

“Why? Why me?” It was the self-pitying
question she hadn’t allowed herself to ask for eight centuries, but
she was asking it now. For once, she wanted an answer.

Sam shook her head, and two more fat tears
dropped from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cordray. I don’t know.”

They stared at each other like that for a
long time. Just the two of them. On the floor. Crying and
staring.

Then Sam dabbed the skin over her upper lip
with her fingers. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and
persuasive. “Did something happen between you and Trace?”

That was the question of the hour, wasn’t
it?

“No. Yes.” She sighed, wiping the
humiliating tears from her face. “I mean, no.”

But something
had
happened. Not just
in her bedroom when she’d awakened to find him on top of her, but
in the living room earlier in the evening, with Aiden and Null,
when they’d looked like a family. When they’d talked to each other
like two people who actually liked one another. And then something
incredible had happened after they’d tucked the kids into bed.
Something wondrous and fiery and all-absorbing.