The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series) (38 page)

             
“Addicting?” she asked, laughing now. “Join the club.”

             
“I have to say, though, Strawberry Poptarts are by far my favorite snack food.”

             
“Ah,” Callie said, nodding. “Yeah, I never ate any of those. The weird thing was, I never saw Maggie eating them, either. I guess you’re the one we kept buying them for.” She watched him as he ate for another moment, and then turned to him with curiosity. “So what else?” she asked.

             
He didn’t reply, his face blank.

             
“What else did you do while you were in California? I can’t imagine you watched me the
whole
time. Come on…any museums? Ballgames?”

             
“There aren’t a lot of options,” he said with a shrug. Callie saw the heave and sigh of his massive wings as he did so, and realized what he meant. “Although, there was a day when I visited the Golden Gate Bridge. It hadn’t been my first trip, of course. But it’s exhilarating, standing on top of the bridge, looking out at the city. Especially at night.”

             
“Really?” she asked. “Isn’t that kind of no big deal for a Guardian? I mean, you can
fly
. You could go anywhere you want.”

             
“Exactly,” he said. “Once you have the option of going anywhere, you realize how small the world is. Sometimes it’s nice to keep yourself planted in one place, and enjoy the view.”

             
She snorted. “Okay. But if I could go anywhere, I certainly wouldn’t stay in California.”

             
He tipped his head. “Where would you go?” he asked.

             
“London,” she said automatically. “I’ve always wanted to see the Big Ben.”

             
“Why?” he asked.

             
With a sheepish grin, she asked, “Have you ever seen the movie
Peter Pan
?”

             
He laughed. “About a hundred times, I’d say. You were obsessed with that movie from ages two to five. Every time I’d visit, even though I was only there a few days a year, I would see that movie again and again. It got to the point that I had every line memorized.”

             
“Yeah, well, I’ll bet if they had movies when
you
were a kid, you’d have had the same obsession,” she protested. “Anyways, there’s this one scene where the kids have just learned how to fly, and Peter leads them to the Big Ben. They all stand on the minute hand, and Peter points to the sky, and says, ‘Second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning.’” She spoke the words in a theatrical, slightly masculine voice, and Alex chuckled. “I know now that it isn’t really there, but still….I’ve always wanted to see for myself.”

             
She glanced at him, embarrassed. But he wasn’t laughing at her anymore. He was watching her with wonder, a certain fondness in the depths of his eyes.

             
“This is really good, by the way,” she said, feeling self-conscious. She dug into the last few bites of her macaroni and cheese.

             
He smirked, apparently realizing her discomfort. When she had finished, he stood up and gathered the empty bowls, and then carried them to the sink.

             
“Can I help?” she asked, standing.

             
She walked towards him, intent upon helping, but when she was right behind him he turned around. They were so close that he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her against him.

             
“You think that I would waste time doing dishes now?” he asked.

             
Her heart must have stopped beating. That was the only explanation she could think of for the dizziness that came over her. He trapped her with a warm stare as his head sank towards hers, as his breath brushed lightly over her cheeks. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his hands as they cradled her back, the touch of his lips as they closed over hers.

             
She gasped as he lifted her from the ground. She held his shoulders more tightly, even though she knew he would never drop her. The smooth, silky texture of his skin as it rippled atop his ribs and muscles. He moved away from the refrigerator then and, holding her tightly against him, keeping her lips locked onto his, walked into the living room. With a fire in his chocolate eyes to match the one in the hearth, he drew his face away from hers slightly. The second he did so, she felt empty. She reached for him again, but then she felt him lowering her onto the supple carpeting in front of the fire.

             
He placed her on the rug gently, and then descended atop her, his skin melding with hers once again. But even as she snuck a hand around the back of his neck, about to pull him towards her, he propped himself onto his left elbow, resting his head on his hand. He gazed down at her for a long moment, taking in every feature of her face, before he spoke.

             
“How is it you do this to me?” he murmured.

             
“Do what?” she asked, embarrassed to realize she nearly panted the word. But the warmth of his thighs pressed atop hers, and the ridges in his abdomen were highlighted by the shadows the fire cast. She couldn’t recall seeing anything more beautiful.

             
It astounded her to realize that this was hers.

             
“Make me feel so….” He faltered, looking for the right word. “Mortal,” he finally said. “Everything seems different now. When you’re immortal, necessity, urgency—they get stripped away. But being around you makes everything more precious.”

             
“Because I
am
mortal?” she asked.

             
He shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. It’s because you’re…essential. Forever doesn’t seem long enough suddenly.”

             
A sad thought crossed her mind. “I don’t have forever,” she whispered. She pushed up onto her elbows. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

             
A flicker of worry shot across his face. “Why?” he asked.

             
“Well, because you’re going to live forever. And I’m going to get older every year until…. I don’t want you to have to deal with my absence,” she said, remembering the words Zeke had spoken earlier. Even though her heart broke just saying it, she continued, “Maybe, if we stop this before it really starts, you won’t have to.”

             
He inhaled sharply, and then crushed her to his chest with his right arm. She hugged his neck, barely having to support herself when he held her so tightly.

             
“Callie,” he said into her hair, his voice shaking with ferocity. “Don’t
ever
think that. You can’t possibly believe that I love you for your youth. You are a part of me. And I will feel this long, long after you are gone.”

             
She drew back, shocked and trembling, and stared up at him in astonishment.

             
“You love me?” she asked.

             
His eyebrows drew together, and, though his expression had been strained the moment before, a tiny, incredulous smile took hold of his face. “Of course I do,” he said. “What did you think we were doing here?”

             
“I—“ she stuttered.

             
But he shook his head, and his lips found hers once more. He kissed her sweetly, briefly. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “It’s alright.”

             
She felt his palm support her head as he lowered her again to the carpet. The truth was, she didn’t know if she could have said the words right then. It wasn’t that she doubted the way she felt about him. But to admit it, to tell him the truth, would be to give herself over to him completely. To let him destroy her if he ever left. She hadn’t given anyone that power in a long time.

             
He sank down on top of her again, caressing her mouth with his own. This time, his kiss wasn’t urgent. It was treasuring, devoted. He stroked her face with his warm, rough fingertips as though memorizing her. He kissed her tenderly, adoringly, and she felt tears swell behind her eyes.

             
Gently, he broke the kiss again, and rolled onto his side. He pulled her back against his chest as they stared into the fire, a heavy silence making the air thick. She watched the flames dance before them, felt his heart throb behind her, and sighed. So this was bliss. Being completely at peace, completely without worry. Feeling loved and safe.

             
Her eyelids had just begun to feel heavy when he pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck.

             
“I have an idea,” he whispered against her ear.

             
“Mm,” she sighed, loving the vibrations that his words had caused against her skin.

             
His breath drifted across her earlobe, and he said, “Would you still like to see London?”

             
With a gasp, she turned to face him. His eyes danced playfully, and she asked, “Are you serious?”

             
He nodded. “We could go tonight and be back by tomorrow.”

             
She couldn’t speak, she was so stunned. She nodded fervently, standing up in a furious tangle of limbs. He laughed at her animation, and pushed himself up much more gracefully. Bending down to her, he murmured, “There’s only one condition.”

             
But she would have traded her right arm to see London. “What is it?” she asked.

             
Slowly, he replied, “You have to hold on very tightly.”

             
With a sly smirk, she circled her arms around his neck, catching her breath as he lifted her knees out from under her. They were out the door before she’d even realized they’d left the ground, her eyes glued to his face.

             
She chuckled suddenly at a memory. “I remember the first time we flew together. Well, the second time, I guess. The first time I
remember
us flying together.”

             
He grinned. “You yelled at me,” he said.

             
“I did not!” she protested. “I told you to look out for the buildings. You were about to smash into them.”

             
He glanced at her, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Never,” he said. “The cargo was far too precious.”

             
She felt herself melt. As they left the forest behind, the night sky shimmering overhead, her bones puddled, and she felt her eyelids go heavy once more. She felt so comfortable in his arms, so unlike she’d felt when he had carried her that first time. It was far too easy to fall asleep now.

             
She hadn’t even realized that she’d done so until she heard a faint sound at her ear.

             
Her eyes drifted open, and she saw Alex’s face above hers. With a start, she lifted her head. “Where are we?” she asked, disoriented.

             
“We’re almost there, Wendy,” he murmured. “Shh, it’s alright. You didn’t miss much.”

             
She relaxed again, cuddling into his chest. With a yawn, she said, “I’m sorry I fell asleep.” She blinked and looked around. “Where are we now?”

             
“Just above St. George’s Channel,” he said. “We’ll be there in about five minutes.”

             
Alertness stole over her body. She couldn’t believe it. Five minutes, and a lifetime of waiting, and she would finally get to see it.

             
Suddenly, the tranquil waves ceased to sound below, and car horns and shouts replaced them. She looked down and saw, far below them, a city emerge. It wasn’t a big city; they weren’t in London yet. But there were people, and as they flew, the crowds of people began to grow.

             
And then, in a burst of color and sound and motion, London rose up beneath them.

             
Callie looked on in amazement at the bustling masses below. Rushing reds and soaring sapphires captured her eyes; people walked with crisp hurriedness. Cabbies shook their fists. Street musicians collected quarters. There was so much life, so much energy. The sight took Callie’s breath away.

             
“It’s beautiful,” she said, nearly hypnotized by the view. The cobbled buildings and pointed corners of triangular city blocks blended together in a harmonious sort of splendor; the grey stone of the bridge glowed with warm yellow lighting. She could smell the smoke and grit of a city, and it reminded her of San Francisco. Closing her eyes, she inhaled that scent, thinking of home.

             
And then, out of the cool, cobalt air, there it appeared. The perfectly round face of the clock imitated that of the full moon in the distance. Purple clouds clung to the effervescent sand-colored brick, mirrored by the River Thames below.

Other books

Mozzarella Most Murderous by Fairbanks, Nancy
B004D4Y20I EBOK by Taylor, Lulu
Defending Serenty by Elle Wylder
Second Chances by Gray, Christle