Angels of Darkness

didn’t usually take a kid’s form long term, but a high school quarterback might have just enough influence within the school to be appealing, and it wouldn’t be the typical place for a Guardian to look for one.
    But in the wake of the kid’s rising frustration, Marc returned to their supposed investigation. Good call. They had the info to seek out this Gregory. No need to alienate Sam in the process by forcing him to talk about someone he obviously considered a rival.
    â€œAfter Jason died, was Miklia the one who told you?”
    â€œNo. No, my mom did. I tried to call Miklia right away, to see if she was okay, but I couldn’t really get through. And when I finally just went over to her house about a few days later—I thought she might need me, you know?—the Brainless Bitches were in her room with her. It was weird, so I left without really saying anything.”
    â€œYou didn’t see her at school?”
    â€œNo, she missed the whole week. And after that, she was just . . . cold.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, I’m done with her.”
    Radha couldn’t stop herself. “Because you already wasted too much time.”
    â€œYeah. I know, right?” He let out a heavy breath, checked his watch. “Anyway. Anything else? I gotta get home.”
    â€œNo, thank you.” Marc slipped a card across the table. “Call me if you remember something else, any little detail that you think might be relevant. Someone hanging around her house, something that seems out of place.”
    â€œOkay. Right. I will.” He slid out of the bench, hefted his backpack over his shoulder. “Thanks for the grub.”
    Marc inclined his head, waited until Sam had walked out of earshot before opening his mouth. Radha beat him to it.
    â€œThe quarterback? Really? ”
    His grin eradicated the weariness that seemed to hang over him. Okay, that was proof enough. No matter how resigned and lonely he seemed, he was all right—and she really needed to go soon.
    â€œWe’ll talk to him next.” His gaze lifted to the window. Outside, Sam was walking past, head down and earbuds in. “Do you think he’ll grow out of it?”
    â€œOut of being a stalker, pretending to be a girl’s best friend for years, just so he can get into her pants?” At least with the more aggressive creeps, a girl knew exactly what they were after. They didn’t pretend to care about anything else. Sam was the insidious kind of creep. Could that change? “I don’t know. For now, she’s well rid of him. He’s the one who wasted their friendship. Maybe she caught on.”
    Marc nodded, but she sensed a slight hesitation in him. Now that was unexpected. She’d never known him to hesitate over anything.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIs this what you thought I did back then?”
    Back then. She knew very well he hadn’t. “No. You made it clear that you weren’t after sex.”
    She hadn’t been after it, either, not at first. She’d been older, maybe too old for him—living a lifetime as a human, and then the span of another human life as a Guardian by the time she’d met him. But she’d liked him so well, and he’d been so fun. Serious and driven, yet smiling that sexy smile every time she’d gone to visit him, abandoning whatever he was doing to spend time with her.
    And before too long, age hadn’t seemed to matter. It rarely did with Guardians, not when they could appear however old they wanted to. They were all adults, after all. But maybe, with Marc, their age differences should have mattered. She’d known he was still finding his way, adjusting to his new life. But they all had done that. She’d known he’d settle in, eventually, discover who he was, who he wanted to be.
    Maybe she’d pushed too hard, though. Maybe he hadn’t been old enough— mature enough—to resist her when she’d finally given in and kissed him. He certainly hadn’t had the experience.
    He’d made up for it. All of that seriousness, all of that focus, suddenly turned toward pleasing her. She’d told him what she liked, and he’d applied himself to it very, very determinedly—and with an intensity that all but burned her alive.
    And for all of her experience, she hadn’t known how much she’d wanted that intensity. No surface passion, no going through the