Bound Guardian Angel Read Online Free PDF Page A

tipping.
    Where the hell was Micah? Trace needed his
master, and he needed him now.
    Mother’s cries. The fire.
    Tears broke against the seams of his tightly
scrunched eyes, and he cringed through another muscle spasm that
ran from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.
    Micah, where are you?
    He needed his friend and master now more
than ever.
    * * *
    Micah scowled into the pouring rain, seething, then
checked his watch again.
    “She’s fifteen minutes late, for fuck’s
sake.” He turned toward the sock puppet dressed in the king’s guard
uniform behind the industrial desk set up in the small lobby.
    The guard lifted his gaze from the screen of
his laptop, where he was probably playing Solitaire or some other
seemingly useless and nonproductive game.
    “The instructions are explicit, Micah. Trace
is to be released into Cordray’s custody. Only Cordray’s.”
    Micah was up the guard’s nose in two
strides. He slammed the laptop closed and slapped his palms on the
cool, rubber-topped desk. “And she’s just going to sign him over to
me five seconds later, asshole, so we might as well dispense with
the middle man.” Or woman, as the case may be. Or it .
Because who the hell really knew with Cordray?
    The guard’s brow bunched and lowered over
his eyes. “You don’t hold jurisdiction here. Now, sit your ass down
and wait. Or leave. I don’t give a shit. Just get out of my face,
or you’ll be the next one in King Bain’s dungeon.”
    Micah slowly straightened and loomed over
the little shit with balls of steel. Or perhaps he thought hiding
behind the royal insignia gave him some kind of protection. If only
he knew. Micah wasn’t beyond doing what was necessary to protect
those he cared about. If that meant wiping the floor with this
overly confident turd stain so he could get to Trace and get him
home, he had no problem with that. After all, Micah believed in
acting first and asking forgiveness later. And while the threat of
the king’s retaliation might send lesser males quaking in their
footsies, Micah wasn’t so squeamish.
    Still, he backed off. He would give Cordray
five more minutes. If she didn’t arrive by quarter past, he was
going in for Trace even if he had to take a bullet to get to
him.
    He paced toward the door and glared out at
the diffuse light from the city reflecting off the torrential rain
as he thought back over the conversation he’d had with Sam before
leaving AKM thirty minutes ago to come here. He’d been a nervous
wreck. Still was. This was Trace, for God’s sake. His best friend
and the first true submissive he’d taken on in what felt like a
lifetime.
    “Quit worrying,” Sam had said as he let out
a heavy, concerned exhale.
    “I’m not worried.” He had tried to lie to
her but she knew him better than that by now.
    Sam had made a noise as if she was trying
not to laugh, and he imagined she had one of her perfect, loving
smiles on her face. “You’re like a kid with a shiny new BMX bike on
Christmas.”
    Where did she get these analogies? “Are you
saying I’m excited, Mrs. Black?”
    “Baby, I thought we’d talked about this.
Just because you put a ring on it doesn’t mean you can call me Mrs.
Black. We still aren’t officially hitched.” The amusement in her
voice made him smile.
    “We are so hitched. You’ve no
idea.”
    A moment’s silence crossed the line, and he
could almost see Sam’s cheeks turn rosy as she grinned from ear to
ear and stared at the ring he’d given her in February. She’d told
him that even though he was a vampire and she was now immortal, she
wanted a proper human wedding. She’d been married once before to
that abusive asshole, Steve, and Micah suspected she wanted to wipe
the slate clean and mark a new beginning by marrying him, even
though vampires didn’t get married. They mated. Big diff. A
marriage could be terminated. A mating couldn’t. At least, not
without consequences.
    Micah knew firsthand how hard losing a