Page 19 of A Touch of Crimson
Lindsay rocked back on the barstool, laughing. “You should have seen the guy’s face. My dad bought him a couple of shots of sake just to soothe his pride.”
Her laughter was infectious. The sound was so open and free, he couldn’t fight a smile any longer. His mouth curved for the first time in centuries. He liked her. He wanted to get to know her better.
But he had to maintain the appearance of a calm, unaffected host. Both for her sake and for the benefit of his Sentinels. He could feel their wariness and distrust. Although they would never voice the accusation, they knew Shadoe weakened him. Their concern for his well-being could foster a dangerous resentment if he wasn’t cautious.
His unit was comprised of seraphim who were better than him, angels who didn’t suffer the same emotional frailties he did. They didn’t fully understand what a vulnerability Shadoe was to him, because they couldn’t grasp the mortal love he felt. If a Sentinel came to believe their mission had been overly compromised by Lindsay, they’d kill her and be justified in doing so.
Focusing on deep-frying the vegetable tempura, Adrian resisted the urge to glance at Lindsay too often. She sat on a stool on the opposite side of his granite-topped kitchen island, nursing her third glass of water. He found himself aroused by the way she swallowed. Two hundred years of celibacy had taken their toll.
During Shadoe’s dormancy, he craved no woman’s touch. But when her soul returned, his repressed need and hunger surged to the fore, all the more voracious for having been contained for so long. He was aching to taste her, push inside her, make her writhe beneath relentless thrusts of his cock.
But that would have to wait. Lindsay needed to trust him first, then want him as much as he wanted her. When he finally had her, there would be no restraint. And he didn’t expect she would allow him any. Not as fierce as she was. When she gave herself, it would be with abandon, he suspected. This woman with the heart of a warrior and a soul radiating such pain.
He would simply have to be patient through the necessary prerequisites: keep her safe, make her strong, and win her trust.
“You’re not eating,” she noted.
“I am, actually. Just not in the same manner as you do.”
“Oh?” Her tone was deceptively neutral. “What’s your way?”
Her grip on her lacquered chopsticks changed, became lethal. He could snap her spine with the slightest touch, yet her sense of right and wrong, coupled with her need to protect others, goaded her to prepare for an offensive move in a no-win scenario. He admired that fighting spirit and strength of conviction.
Adrian considered his answer carefully. It would do him no favors to have her see him as a parasite like the vampires. “I absorb energy.”
“From what? How?”
“There’s energy all around us—in the air, the water, the earth. The same energy that’s harnessed by wind turbines and hydroelectric plants like the Hoover Dam.”
“Bet that comes in handy.”
“It’s convenient,” he agreed, returning his attention to cooking the last of the batter-coated shrimp and vegetables.
His energy levels were thrumming now, as they always did when Shadoe was near. Her proximity—the unique force of two souls in one vessel—allowed him to achieve the greatest levels of power of which he was capable. Life force energy from souls was the primary source of seraphim sustenance and the reason the Fallen had turned to blood drinking—they still needed life force energy to survive, but the stripping away of their souls forced them to obtain it directly.
“So,” Lindsay began, “you hunt vampires.”
“I do.”
“But the guy in the grocery store, he was a dragon.”
“He was.”
She took a deep breath. “Are there also demons? I mean, angels and demons always seem to go hand in hand.”
He pulled the last of the tempura out of the oil with a strainer, then turned off the burner. “The dragon was a demon. There are other classifications of beings that fall under that designation.”
“Vampires?”
“There are some creatures who have fangs and drink blood that are demons. But they’re not my problem. My responsibility is other angels—fallen angels. The vampires I hunt were once like me.”
“Like you. Angels. Really.” Her lips thinned. “But aren’t demons everyone’s concern? They’re the bad guys, right?”
“My mission is sharply defined.”
“Your mission?”
“I’m a soldier, Lindsay. I have duties and orders, and I follow them. I expect those whose job it is to hunt demons feel the same way about their responsibilities. It’s not my place to intercede, and I wouldn’t regardless. Frankly, I have enough on my plate.”
