Guardian Demon (GUARDIAN SERIES) by Meljean Brook Page A

tangled up with his. His life would influence hers so much that Khavi couldn’t trace the threads. But one part of her future had nothing to do with him.
    “What will her Gift be?”
    With a deep sigh, Khavi shook her head. “If you have any pity at all, you will let her Fall. You terrify her.”
    Do you have pity in you now?
    He did. But seeing that she was safe mattered more—and her terror would not last. Andromeda could fall prey to fear, but she’d never let it consume her. Soon she’d overcome her terror of him. Her distrust and anger would linger far longer.
    “Will her Gift help us stop Lucifer?”
    “I cannot see what her Gift will be.”
    A lie. “You refuse to tell me because you can’t see how I will react, or if it will interfere with your own plans.”
    With a purse of her lips, Khavi nodded. Her admission drew a smile from him, but it faded when he looked into the Pit. He had so much to do.
    “How long do I have?”
    “I cannot see—”
    “Not with your Gift. Tell me based on what you know of my strength, of my will. Of the dissonance. Of the symbols that bind me to my flesh.”
    She closed her eyes. Her chest fell on a heavy breath. “A few weeks, perhaps.”
    A few weeks. So much more time than he’d thought.
    Hope rose, lifting the dread that had been weighing on him. Perhaps he could make amends in that time. Perhaps he could pass more hours in her company. And if Andromeda could not forgive him, at least he could help her repair Caelum—and protect her as well as he could.
    His gaze sharpened on the cluster of demons and humans at the far end of the Pit. The humans’ own actions had brought them here, but Lucifer had a choice to burn them quickly and release them. As a dragon, Michael could have burned them. He could not speed their release now . . . but he could free them from their torment.
    He hefted the spear. Fire raced from his fingertips to the spearhead, lighting the weapon. “If you are determined to help Anaria, then let’s add a few thousand soldiers to her army.”
    Light from the flames gleamed in Khavi’s eyes and danced over the blade of her sword. She couldn’t have known to find him at the Pit, so this was probably why she’d come to begin with. Michael was happy to assist her.
    But it wasn’t for Khavi or Anaria. No matter who won the war for Hell, the demons in the Pit would soon be dead. They would never harm Andromeda. They would never leave Michael helpless again.
    Only Andromeda Taylor could do that.
    *   *   *
    Both Hugh and Lilith kept their minds shielded. Michael couldn’t teleport directly to their location, but he knew where to find them. He appeared in the corner of their living room, two walls at his back and with a view behind the long sofa—the only place that could conceal someone lying in wait. To his left, a pair of swords were mounted on a bookcase shelf. Not just for display; Lilith had also hidden guns inside the ottoman and under the furniture cushions.
    No other hearts were beating here—just the familiar heartbeats from Lilith, Hugh, and their hellhound at the other end of the house. The sound of steel striking steel rang through the walls. Good. He would only interrupt their fencing practice. Too many times, he’d interrupted more intimate activities.
    Sir Pup’s psychic probe pressed against Michael’s shields, a chorus of three warnings at once. He answered the hellhound with a reassuring note. No danger had come into the house with him.
    Disappointment projected from one of Sir Pup’s minds like a resigned sigh. He’d been hoping for danger.
    The hellhound might soon have his wish.
    To give Sir Pup enough time to alert Lilith to his presence—or not, if the surprise amused the hellhound more—Michael paused behind the sofa, where a painting of Caelum covered the wall from floor to ceiling. Colin Ames-Beaumont had created it for Lilith, and the vampire had seen the realm more clearly than most, capturing the beauty of