Archangel of Mercy by Christina Ashcroft Read Free Book Online Page A

entire focus zeroed in on her. He forgot about the dark energy seeping from the fracture, forgot about its implications, forgot everything but the fact Aurora had just attempted to push him away from the face of danger.
    No one pushed him from the face of danger.
No one imagined, let alone put into practice, the outrageous assumption they had the ability to protect him.
    She didn’t know who he was. Equally, she could have no idea what nightmare waited for her once she entered the Guardians domain. Revulsion curdled his gut and he gripped her arm and pulled her around to face him.
    “Don’t.” She pushed against him, eyes wild, breath erratic. “Let me go.”
    In his peripheral vision he saw the loathsome figures appear within the glowing violet cloud. He knew the kind of things the Guardians would do to her to satisfy their sick craving to soak in a mortal’s terror. Their species went back a billion years, to the sunrise of time itself, and their hatred of any other form of life that had evolved after them was absolute. Two million years ago the Alpha Immortals, ancestors of every immortal alive today, had emerged from the fallout of a supernova. Within a million years they had banished the marauding Guardians to the outer edges of creation, but still the creatures abducted innocent victims to feed their perverted addiction. Disgust gripped his stomach, and an ancient, long-buried instinct rose.
    He wrapped his arms around her, held her head securely against his shoulder so she couldn’t move a muscle, and without even a second’s hesitation took her to the safest place on Earth.
    His sanctuary.

Chapter Six
    W HAT
was he doing?
Aurora tried to move her head, tried to see what had happened to that terrifying streak of lightning. But his fingers bit into her skull, keeping her plastered against his shoulder and not only could she not move, she could hardly breathe.
    Then she forgot about breathing, forgot about the violet lightning as a whiplash of white fire streaked through her brain, her lungs, her heart. Instinctively she tried to curl into a ball but still he held her in an iron grip, even as a scream of primal terror locked in her throat.
    And as suddenly as it began, the horrifying sensation of her every atom flying apart ceased.
    She realized her nails were digging into his naked flesh, that her mouth was squashed against his shoulder. The entire length of her body molded his and the crazy thought drifted through her mind that she should stay here, trapped in his arms, because only here was she . . . safe.
    Gingerly she unhooked her nails and saw the crescents gouged into his flesh. She pushed at his chest and lifted her head. He didn’t try and stop her and as she stumbled backward, nausea churned and sweat beaded her skin.
    No way was she going to throw up in front of him.
She swallowed, tried to focus on his face but everything was blurred as if she’d been plunged under murky water.
    “Are you okay?” He didn’t sound concerned. He sounded irritated. She let out a shaky breath, tried to focus once again. It was the eeriest sensation but she could’ve sworn they were no longer in her parents’ living room.
    “I don’t feel so good.” A sluggish recollection crawled across her mind of violet lightning that had suddenly appeared in front of her.
    He muttered under his breath in that same strange language he’d used before. “You’d better sit down.” He took her arm and propelled her sideways and her brain finally reconnected with her vision.
    “What the
fuck
?” Her heart kicked against her ribs in sudden panic as she stared, uncomprehending, at the smooth stone floor. Where were the faded, antiquated rugs that had been in her family for countless generations?
    “Just sit down before you fall down.” He pushed her, none too gently, onto a timber chair.
    She sat, but only because her legs threatened to buckle. She gripped the sides of the chair and risked glancing up. They were in a