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theories. Either her father made a blood pact with Asmodeus, and the bastard believes Tory, as his only descendant, is responsible for fulfilling it. Or he knows she is coming into her power and thinks to take it for his own. But I will not allow him to succeed.”
    “Well, of course not. And it won’t hurt giving her a little Ambrosia.”
    Michael snorted, turning his back on Zadkiel. Ambrosia, nectar of the gods. Little could Homer have known how literal such a statement was when he’d coined the phrase all those centuries ago. And completely against the laws of Heaven.
    “I will hardly be able to enforce a law I have myself broken.”
    “Neither can we afford for you to end up like Gabriel,” Zadkiel said quietly. “I do not see how you have any choice.”
    Yes, he could justify the action that way, but it still would not make it any less wrong. Ambrosia was nothing but a pretty word for angel blood. Quite by chance, many millenniums ago, it had been discovered a few drops could make a human immortal. But too much had devastating effects, turning the human into an abomination. A vampire. Even Gabriel had feared the consequences, never taking such drastic steps to prolong Ariadne’s life.
    Though maybe he should have because the thought of losing Tory the way Gabriel had Ariadne twisted deep in Michael’s gut. He wasn’t sure he could be so noble.
    A wave of gut-wrenching remorse swept over him and Michael instantly recognized from where it had come. Tory. She needed him.
    “We both have our own responsibilities. Yours is tracking Asmodeus. Mine is taking care of the woman in there,” Michael said, waving a hand toward the bathroom door. “Let me know if you discover anything new, but right now I need to concentrate on Tory.”
    He didn’t bother to wait for a reply. In his desperate need to reach her, he just left Zadkiel standing there. It was vexing really. Had it been any one of his warriors, Michael would not have hesitated reprimanding for such an action. But the shoe was on the other foot now, and Michael could not deny he was operating in ways completely out of character for him.
    Michael found Tory sitting on the toilet seat, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and though she didn’t make a sound, tears streamed slowly down her cheeks. His heart lurching, he hesitated only a moment, uncertain how he should proceed as he watched her rocking slowly back and forth. What did he know of easing a human’s pain? Hell, what did he know of offering comfort to anyone?
    But she was his mate.
    Kneeling before her, Michael did not even think she realized her actions when she leaned into him. It was the most natural thing in the world to gather her into his arms. The one thing he’d feared had become the most treasured.
    He’d be breaking one of his people’s oldest covenants by feeding her Ambrosia. In that, Michael knew he had no choice. He only prayed his motives would be deemed pure enough to be forgiven.
    Settling on the floor, he shifted Tory onto his lap, cradling her against his chest, surrounding her with his warmth. She sank into him, giving her weight up into his protection and that measure of trust twisted something inside Michael, invoking a feeling he’d never encountered. Could this be love?
    He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Tory in his arms. He still wanted her. His dick had grown hard the minute he’d stepped into the bathroom, but this was different. The harsh bite of arousal was gone. It was more subtle and not wholly unpleasant. Murmuring into her hair, he rocked her gently until her trembling began to subside and she finally grew still.
    “We will find him,” Michael said quietly.
    At first a sniffle was the only reply. Then in a whisper, Tory asked, “But how many more will die because of me?”
    “My love, you have no more control over life and death than do I. Who’s to say it wasn’t their time? And they are in a better place.”
    “Are they? Really?”
    “I would