She also had no desire to suffer an arranged mating.
Her room, decorated in black, crimson, and blue, had driven her mom nuts, which had pretty much been the point. Rebellious from the start, Gem had probably, on several occasions over the course of her twenty-four years, made her parents regret their decision to raise her. But they’d also loved her, and she had no doubts about that. Her mom never once let her go to bed without a good night hug, and her father had set aside the third Saturday of every month to take her someplace special, just the two of them. Knowing she’d need to blend in, they’d provided her with a very normal human childhood that included church, sleepovers, and camping. As long as she avoided the securely locked basement, she could almost pretend she—and they—were human.
Though she didn’t expect to find anything, she searched her bedroom and found exactly what she’d expected. Nothing. The Ghouls really had nabbed her parents, the sons of bitches. She moved toward the door. Halted as she passed the dresser.
No.
But she had to. She’d avoided this for far too long.
Heart pounding, she opened the top drawer and fumbled around until her fingers found the thin photo album duct-taped to the underside of the top. She removed it, her hands shaking so badly that she nearly dropped the small leather-bound book.
She almost didn’t open it. The thing felt heavier than it was, the phantom weight of memories that should have been but never were.
God, she was such a drama queen.
Disgusted with herself, she opened the book and flipped through the two dozen pictures. All of people who didn’t know they’d been captured on film. All taken at a distance.
All of Tayla Mancuso and the slayer’s now-dead mom.
Eight
It took three minutes to secure Eidolon to the bed. As tempting as it was to kill him, Tayla knew The Aegis might benefit more from his survival. At least, that’s what she told herself. Anything to keep from thinking too hard about the fact that he had saved her life, and she owed him.
Afterward, Tayla showered, dressed in ratty jeans and a tank top, and checked his breathing and bindings once more. She’d laid him out spread-eagled on his back, his arms stretched over his head and chained to the bed frame.
Lying there, unconscious, he was beautiful. She’d been hesitant to look too closely before, when he was awake and would know what she was doing. Now, she could spare a moment to admire a body so perfect she could only compare it to an athlete’s.
Thick layers of muscle cut valleys across his bare chest and down to ripped abs that spoke of hours of sit-ups. His caduceus pendant had slipped to the side, pointing to a thin, almost invisible scar on his shoulder. When she leaned closer, she saw more of them, so faint she doubted they could be seen in anything but the most perfect conditions, like now, with the afternoon sunlight pouring through her window.
Geez, he looked like he’d been scored by a thousand paper cuts that had healed but left shadows.
Tentatively, she trailed a finger along his shoulder and up his right arm, tracing the tribal tats, firm muscle, and pulsing ropes of vein. That arm had wrapped around her. Held her. No one had held her. Not since her mother had died.
Dammit.
Chastising herself for letting her thoughts take her in a direction she had no business going in, she darted out of the apartment.
It was cooler outside than it had been earlier—apparently Mother Nature hadn’t gotten the newsflash that it was spring and should be warm in the afternoon—but she didn’t waste time going back for a jacket. She wanted to get back before Hellboy woke up, if possible.
She took two trains and a bus, and forty-five minutes later, arrived five blocks south of Aegis HQ.
Headquarters sat on the remote outskirts of a New York City suburb, a large three-story house where the two Regents, the married heads of the New York City cell, lived and sheltered dozens of Guardians. The nearest neighbors were nearly half a mile distant, but standard operating procedure required an approach from the rear, through a secret entrance hidden in a copse of trees a quarter-mile away from HQ. An underground tunnel brought Tayla into the wooded, enclosed backyard, where two male Guardians were engaged in crossbow target practice. Trey couldn’t hit the ocean if he were in the middle of it, but the straw vampire didn’t stand a chance against Warren, a recently transferred Guardian from a London cell. Another Guardian, Cole, fiddled with something in his hand.
An explosion rattled her eardrums, Body parts whistled through the air. She ducked in time to avoid being struck in the head by a flaming foot.
Near the guest house that was home to nine male Guardians, the burning remains of a mannequin smoldered.
Tayla jammed her fists on her hips and scowled. “What are you guys doing now?”