Shae stared at the empty doorway, too shocked to move at Dagan’s outburst. For the first time since she’d met him, she’d seen stark fear on his face. For her?

Was he afraid that if he fed from her, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and would drink her dry like a demonii would?

Harvey had explained about demons who lost their dark souls after stealing a human spirit—and about their unending blood-thirst. But Dagan wasn’t like a demonii…was he?

However, it was the pain she’d sensed in him that had her moving. Hurriedly, she pulled on her underwear, sprinted back to her room for her boots, dragged them on, then took off after him. She searched the living room and kitchen, but he wasn’t there. She grabbed her outdoor jacket from the chair, hauled it on, and darted outside. Both courtyards were empty, too.

That left only one place.

With the moon her only source of light, she cut around the side, past the outbuilding, and ran up the steep, narrow steps. Panting hard, like she’d climbed a million of them, she finally reached the top and stumbled to a halt. The chilly winds echoed eerily around her, tugging at her clothes and hair.

Dagan stood at the edge of the plateau, gazing down into the gorge like a lonely statue of some long-forgotten god, a burning cigar in his hand. The silvery moon highlighted his hard, handsome features, the wind whipping at his unbound hair.

Shae darted across to him. “Dagan, talk to me. You can’t say things like that and then just walk away. Do you think you’ll kill me if you feed from me? Is that it?”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why—how I became a Guardian of this realm?” he asked instead, appearing a little calmer, his fangs no longer evident.

She frowned at the change in conversation and grabbed onto her wind-tossed mane. “I assumed it was a job you applied for.”

At his dark bark of laughter, she eyed him cautiously. “Then how?”

Killing his smoke, he tossed the stub away and removed a narrow black band from his wrist. Then, shocking her speechless, he gathered her tangled hair, and with a few twists, tied it back. “Because I, along with the other Guardians, was banished from the pantheons. We had nowhere else to go once we escaped imprisonment in Tartarus—”

“What?” She pulled back, shocked. “Why?”

His bleak gaze shifted away to stare into the distance again. “We failed in our duty as protectors to keep the Goddess of Life safe. During a bloody battle, the vilest evil out there snatched her. She was never seen again.”

Dear sweet Jesus. No wonder he was so driven to keep her hidden and safe. “What happened?”

His tone devoid of emotions, he told her about the attacks on the temple, then about the last protector arriving. “Unaware that it was Blaéz, a fight started. Hordes of demons appeared—demons shouldn’t be able to enter the Realm of the Gods. While the battle took place, a narcissistic Fallen bastard used the distraction and abducted her.”

“Fallen?”

“Lucifer.” A tic worked his jaw. Shae knew Lucifer was one of the most beautiful and cunning of angels. “As punishment, we were judged and found guilty of blatant misconduct for allowing the denizens of the Dark Realm access to the sacred temple, which then caused the slaughter of Inara’s handmaidens. Our powers and godhood were stripped, and we were imprisoned in Tartarus. Except, I wasn’t with the others. I was in a different sector…”

As if unable to stay still, he paced several feet away, then back again, stopping to stare out at the dark horizon again. Silence lengthened.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“When I came to, I found myself in a desert wasteland, surrounded by impossible heat but no sun. No night or day. No shelter, food, or water. And no death…”

At the dead look creeping over his chiseled features, uneasiness stirred. “Dagan?”

He blinked as if coming to himself. “Days—weeks passed, and my thirst and hunger grew. I must have fainted…” He told her the gruesome tale about waking up to huge, grisly, vulture-like birds tearing at his flesh. “I managed to grab one, but so badly weakened and unable to kill it, I bit its neck. Blood slid down my throat. I spat it out at first, but it was the only source of liquid I had…and I was so thirsty…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “It was the beginning, the catalyst to my change.”

“Are you saying drinking from those birds made you…this way?” She stopped short of using the word vampire. She’d teased him the day at the penthouse. But dear God, this was so much worse.

A terse nod. “They weren’t ordinary birds. They were vampiric ones that belonged to the dark goddess, Hel. Those avians were used to punish those sentenced to Reaper’s Hell—it’s what the demons call the place, I later found out. Five centuries of feeding off them would do that. When Michael finally freed us, it was too late. Blood is all I can handle as a food source, all that sustains me.”

She rubbed her jacket-clad arms at the shivers wracking her.

He glanced at her. “You’re cold. Let’s get out of here.”

She shook her head, her mind reeling from what he’d revealed. “I’m okay. Why do you think you’d kill me if you—”

“Later. You need to get warm.” A hand on her back, he ushered her carefully down the shadowy granite steps to the monastery.

In the warm, brightly lit kitchen, he switched on the kettle. “You should have something hot…” He looked through the cupboards then exhaled roughly. “I’m afraid my skills are quite lacking in this area. Except for coffee…?”

“I’ll make it.” Since she wasn’t a coffee drinker, Shae put milk to heat on the wood-burning stove, pulled out the cocoa from the cupboard and heaped two spoonfuls into a mug, along with some sugar.

He lowered onto the chair opposite her, resting one arm on the table, the other rubbing his unshaven jaw. She recalled the raspy feel of his face between her thighs, and desire pooled low in her belly again, warmth flooding her cheeks.

He lifted a questioning brow. She shook her head. “Do any of the other Guardians know about this? About you?” She brought the conversation back to where they’d left off.

A shrug rolled off a broad shoulder. “Michael. Nik…Hedori. The others, no. I rarely spend time with them…”

Shae stared at him. And at the rigid set of his features, she understood why. He probably thought they would condemn him because of what he’d become. Her heart hurt for him. Heck, the Guardians’ main duty was to kill those soul-hunting, blood-sucking demoniis.

She got the pot of hot milk from the stove, added some to her mug, and stirred. “Is Nik your…close friend?”

A shadow flickered in his eyes. “Yeah.”

Right. There was no getting around this. She smoothed her damp palms down her nightshirt and finally asked the one question she didn’t want to know the answer to but needed. “The other day, you said something about sex when feeding…does that happen every time you have to eat?”

A sigh. “Shae—”

“Tell me.”

He rubbed his nape as if uncomfortable talking about this. “Not always, but the female gets a high from my bite—it’s the saliva that’s produced, it’s sort of an aphrodisiac to ease the donor’s pain… So yeah, it happens.”

Her stomach hurt like acid settled in there. Hell, he didn’t need to seek out anyone with the way he looked with his immense height, tough body, and hard, handsome face. Throw in that sensual vampiric allure, and women would queue up for a roll with him.

“So you need a woman every night?”

“No, Shae, I don’t seek out human females for anything. I’ve been feeding on animals more often than not for what seems like forever. It’s less of a bother. Unfortunately, animal plasma only eases my hunger…” His gaze lowered to his hands clasped on the table. “Every few weeks, I need stronger blood.”

Unease swept through her. Her grip tightened around her mug. “What are you saying?”

His shadowed stare met hers. “There’s a goddess from my old pantheon…only immortal blood can strengthen my abilities.”

It was the pause in his comments that had her gaze dropping to her untouched beverage. He’d had just one woman through the ages, and of his kind, too. One whom he’d obviously slept with and fed from. Pain burrowed deeper.

A chair dragged back on the granite floor. He rose. “Shae…”

She had to force the words out through a throat gone tight with anguish, “I…I braced myself for this, but it still hurts.” Hurts? Christ. His admission was like a knife shredding her heart. Her hopes.

He crossed to her, but she stepped back, evading his hand.

His fingers clenched. “Shae, I hadn’t been with her for weeks before I met you. Now, I couldn’t—wouldn’t hurt you in that way. You’re far too important to me. You are all that matters.”

Later…later she’d berate herself for this, for wanting to know everything despite being caught in this cyclone of pain. Because hope, that bitch, had cemented her feet to the ground at his admission.

“But without her blood, your powers weaken. And being a Guardian, you have to be at full strength, right?”

“I’m immortal. I’ll be fine.” He slipped his fists into his pants pockets and leaned against the table. “There’s something you should know, why I can’t—I won’t ever feed from you.”

Inhaling deeply, she braced herself.

“The change left me with a curse. An inexorable thirst when I consume human blood. It hikes my bloodlust, and I lose control,” he said, tone flat as if reciting the addresses from a phonebook. “When I first came to this world, I killed many. I didn’t know how to control this continuous hunger. Then I became a Guardian, and I couldn’t. Harming mortals would break my sacred oath. Michael stepped in and suggested feeding from an immortal…”

He exhaled heavily. “But while on patrol, I needed help. We had another houseman in those early days, a fae named Izzeri, Angelus’s kin. He makes those smokes for me. The plant’s only found in Exilum—it’s a place beyond this realm for exiled immortals and used by the vampires who live there. It blocks the scent of blood and eases me while on patrol. Humans can be quite careless when it comes to their penchant for violence, which more often than not leads to bloodshed. Mercifully, I have no contact with them except in the line of duty.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I accepted what I am eons ago.”

He may appear as if he needed no one, but she was starting to know this man. His weariness, and more, his self-loathing for what he’d done so long ago had left its mark on him. She set her cup down, stepped between his parted thighs, and hugged him.

He stiffened. But it didn’t put her off. After years of being alone, isolated from everyone, she didn’t expect him to go all cuddly-soft on her. He was hard, with so many rough edges. Life had made him what he was. But no one deserved the kind of horror he’d endured. And she’d do all she could to help make it better.

His chest heaved as if exhaling air—or secrets he’d kept locked for ages. And when his arms came around her and he buried his face in her nape, tears stung her eyes.

All too soon, he put her aside, stepping away. Strain lines etched the corners of his mouth. He was on edge again. “Is it hard if I’m close to you?”

He reached out, his fingers tracing her lips as if memorizing their shape. “I’m good.” He dropped his hand. “C’mon, I’ll see you to the room before I leave.”

“I thought you were finished for the night?”

“Not exactly. After you left me, I couldn’t focus on the job”—a wry smile—“so I cut short my patrol. But I need to do a quick run-through down at the village, then check in with Nik and Race.”

In the bedroom, Dagan added several more logs to the dying embers from a crate near the fireplace. He crossed back to her and gently stroked her scarred cheek. “Get some sleep, I’ll see you later.”

After he’d left, Shae stopped at the window and stared outside. Even though she was happy the walls between them had lowered somewhat, what he’d revealed about his past had left a gaping hole inside her.

No matter what he said, he’d have to feed soon. Could she stay on the sidelines and watch him go to another for sustenance? At the thought of his mouth on some other woman, her entire being shut down. No, she couldn’t. And it brought her right back to square one.

What the hell was she going to do when he was adamant about not feeding from her?