Levet (Guardians of Eternity #9.5)(14)

“Of course I care,” she said without hesitation. “I don’t want you hurt.”

He pressed a kiss to her palm, his thumb stroking her inner wrist.

“Then you at last understand why I’m so anxious to protect you.”

She thinned her lips as he neatly turned the tables on her. “Maybe. But—”

Hmm. Perhaps he hadn’t turned any tables. Neatly or otherwise.

“I don’t think I’m going to like this.”

She pulled her hand free to touch his face, the light caress sending jagged bolts of arousal through his body.

He could count the number of times she’d ever purposefully touched him. And never with such a lingering intimacy.

“It terrifies me to know your position makes you a constant target,” she whispered.

He held her worried gaze. “It’s my duty.”

“Yes,” she agreed with a nod. “And while I hate the thought that you’re in danger, I would never try to stand in your way.”

The direct hit came without warning, leaving Elijah gaping at her in bemusement.

Hoisted by his own petard, he wryly acknowledged, recalling how often he’d tried to prevent her from even leaving her apartment without him at her side.

At the time, he’d thought he was revealing just how much he cared for her. Now . . .

“Is that what you think I’m trying to do?”

Her fingers drifted to brush over his lips, her expression somber.

“A partner should make you stronger, not weaker.”

She was right. Of course she was.

As much as he might hate to admit it, his rabid need to protect her was more about his constant knowledge of how close she had come to dying before they’d ever met, than keeping her happy.

Selfish even by his standards.

“Oh . . . merde,” he growled in resignation.

She eyed him warily as he stepped back to tug her shirt into place, his entire body screaming in frustration at the realization he wasn’t going to get relief any time soon.

“Elijah?”

He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door. “Let’s go find that annoying gargoyle.”

CHAPTER 6

Levet quivered as he continued to project his memories into his mother’s unwilling mind, dangerously close to exhaustion.

Sacrebleu. How much longer could he hold the spell?

The fear had barely had time to form when Berthe gave a low groan, her eyes wrenching open to stab him with a malevolent glare.

“Enough.”

Levet halted the memories, but retained control of the magical web that held his mother captive.

She wasn’t looking nearly as impressed as he’d hoped.

“You have seen what I did?” he demanded.

“Oui.”

“And you acknowledge that I faced my enemy with courage?”

She pulled back her lips to emphasize her massive tusks. “I will admit you did not flee like a coward.”

Levet narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps we should begin again.”

“Non,” Berthe rasped, the heat of her fury filling the air. “You behaved with . . . courage.”

Levet scowled. He had stood before the most evil creature ever to have been created and refused to yield.

How many demons could claim such a feat?

None. That was how many.

He grimaced. Non. That wasn’t entirely true. There had been others. But no gargoyles, he hastily reassured himself.

He alone had represented his species.

Which made him excessively special.

“Why is it so hard for you to admit?” he snapped.

Berthe glowered at him, her heavy brow furrowed. “I don’t want you back in the Guild.”

Levet blinked. Well, that was . . . blunt.

“Why? Do you imagine I will somehow contaminate your precious nest?” He curled his snout in disdain. “I can assure you I have no intention of returning to the bosom of my dysfunctional family.”

She made a sound of shock, as if she couldn’t imagine a creature not longing to be a part of her nest.

“Then why do you insist on being returned to the Guild?”

Levet smiled. When he’d traveled to Paris he hadn’t truly known what was driving him.

Now he understood with perfect clarity.

“It’s my right,” he said with simple honesty. “Now tell me why you’re so reluctant to put my name on the Wall.”

Berthe clenched her jaw, clearly loath to confess the truth. Then, perhaps sensing that Levet was stubborn enough to keep her trapped until she shared, she gave a low curse.

“Because you make me . . . less.”

“Less what?”

She turned her head, as if unwilling to meet Levet’s puzzled gaze.

“While you are shunned you are forgotten by my people. But with your name returned to the Wall it will be remembered that you are my son. I will be ridiculed for producing a—”

“A what?” he prompted, his curiosity overcoming his self-preservation.

A common occurrence.

“A freak,” she said with a shudder.

He flinched, feeling like he’d been slapped.

But why?

His mother had devoted his entire childhood to pointing out his numerous flaws. Until he’d nearly allowed her to convince him that he was deformed.