Not one of them spoke. Shay sat in the chair, stunned and unmoving. Meanwhile, Jamie kept on looking right at Sunny, almost as if he could see into her, inside her rapidly beating heart. Shame filled her throat with bile. Embarrassment caused her to stare at the floor.
Shay moved wordlessly toward the doorway, and before Sunny could stop her, she drew Sunny into a tight, reassuring embrace. "It's okay," she murmured against Sunny's cheek. "We won't tell anyone else. I promise. We both do. You are safe with us; I promise you that, too."
Sunny nodded as Shay released her, hurrying up the worn wooden stairs that led to the first floor. She watched Shay vanish, desperate to look at anything except Jamie Angel. She couldn't blame him for telling Shay, not really—and yet, it still stung, after all she'd risked just to kiss him.
Wrapping her arms about herself, she shivered, avoiding Jamie physically. But she should've known he'd have none of that, and his large, strong hand touched her shoulder.
"Are you all right? Safe now?" he inquired softly.
She bobbed her head, staring at the floor. "It will be okay."
"Then look at me, Sunny," he murmured, stroking her upper arm. He was doing it again, getting physical with her when he should keep his distance.
She swerved away from his caress. "It's all right for now, but only if we don't touch again. Kiss again. None of that can happen. Ever."
"I hate that. I can't tell you how much I hate it." His voice was husky and filled with emotion. "But I don't want you to suffer anything 'cause of me."
She put her back to him, fighting tears. "And you don't want to burn in hell. Like you said to Shay," she remarked with a trace of bitterness.
"I'm not worried about me! You know that." He placed strong hands on both her shoulders, forcing her to turn and face him. She didn't want him to see her tear-filled eyes. The pain in her heart was about him—and yet it so exceeded the bounds of this moment. It stretched over centuries of loneliness, the aching for someone to have as her own, not just to watch over, nor to protect objectively.
He slid two fingertips underneath her chin, tilting her face until their gazes locked. "I've hurt you. I'm so sorry."
She pressed her eyes shut. "You don't understand. How can you?"
"Make me understand. Tell me what's going on inside you right now."
His hand was still brushing beneath her chin, and she shoved it away in frustration. "Didn't you hear what I said? No more touching. I could be punished if we do."
He smiled at her. "That wasn't sexual. Just to be clear. I'm sure your team would know that."
She walked to the far side of the room and began idly thumbing through a stack of leather-bound volumes, unstacking and stacking them. "I wish I were human. And for an angel, that is a sin," she said after a moment. "Falls under 'thou shalt not covet.' "
"But you look completely human. I've seen a few angels in my day, and you're not like any of 'em."
She gazed down at one of the books on the table. Angels Among Us. Only then did she realize that every volume in the pile was about her kind. "You pulled all these out? To find out more about me? Us?"
He leaned against a tall bookshelf. "Force of habit in my line of work. Encounter something you He leaned against a tall bookshelf. "Force of habit in my line of work. Encounter something you don't know, research the hell out of it." He barked a laugh. "Pardon the choice of words."
She walked across the room and sat down at the roll -top desk. "I'll make it easier on you. I'll explain exactly what I'm doing here on Earth. But then, Jamie? We can't ever be together again, not even as friends."
A long time ago, Jamie had taken to making short-term bargains he didn't exactly intend to keep.
This was one of those times. Somehow, some way, he was determined that he'd be able to see more of Sunny. He couldn't imagine not seeing her now. Friendship, perhaps, but he wanted far more. On the other hand, he'd meant what he said: He didn't want to cause her to be hurt or punished, and he really didn't want to tick off God in the process.
He'd learned another habit in his years as a hunter, too: Sometimes you really could get your way even if it meant bending supposed spiritual "rules." This was also one of those times. Or so he darn well hoped and prayed.
Sunny brushed a hand through her curls, her agitation obvious. "I'm Kate's guardian angel," she said after a moment. "What we term an earthly guardian, sent in human form."
Jamie processed that revelation. He'd never read or heard of such a thing, but that wasn't surprising, since she and her fellow human guardians looked and seemed . . . human.
"I'm sorry, but vampires need guardian angels? That's what you're telling me? Are there many of you?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not on the priority list when it comes to information. I'm what you'd call. . ." She laughed unexpectedly, but sadness lurked in her gaze. "I'm lower-rung, Jamie."
"Lower-rung among the most powerful beings God ever created. That's top tier of everything else," he said, momentarily trying to forget that he'd kissed her. So long as he compartmentalized his lust for her from her angelic nature, he could keep it together.
"I'm what they call a 'young one.' "
"What's that mean? You haven't been around since the beginning? Since creation?"
She smiled and his heart skipped a beat. She was so beautiful, even in the midst of a difficult conversation. The way her eyes sparkled, lit with an inner fire of goodness and light. The way she looked at him, as if he were the most important person in her universe at the moment.
She didn't explain her laugh or answer his question, just kept smiling faintly. Some of the tension eased between them, and he relaxed, leaning against the shelf.
"You can tell me," he encouraged. "Whatever it is, I can handle it."
"I have no doubt about that, James Angel. No, I'm not one of the originals. More of an afterthought, a later model, so to speak."
"That makes me feel so much less creepy." He snorted. "I mean, nothing like knowing you're lusting after one of God's heavenly host to make you feel like you should be on some offender list, somewhere."
"You probably are," she said, her smile fading. "Unfortunately, we both are."
"Yeah, there is that," he agreed. "So how old are you, then, exactly?"
"I don't know. My human self is twenty-seven, though, for whatever that's worth."
He glanced sideways at her, his brow furrowed. "How can you not know?"