Wicked Kiss

by Michelle Rowen

  He stormed toward the gray again, but was deflected. He landed hard on his shoulder this time and I heard a sickening crunch. His dagger skittered across the pavement away from him.

  “Bishop!” I yelled, terrified he’d been hurt as badly as Cassandra.

  Roth got to his feet and rushed the gray but the gray easily slammed his fist into the demon’s face.

  I watched this with sheer disbelief. Grays weren’t supposed to be any stronger or any more dangerous than humans. Except for the kiss.

  But this guy...

  He’d just taken down two angels and a demon without even breaking a sweat. What was going on here?

  Bishop struggled to get to his feet, but the guy slammed his foot down on Bishop’s broken shoulder. Bishop let out a roar of pain and rage.

  Without thinking, I started for him, fists clenched.

  “Stay back, Samantha,” Bishop snarled. “Don’t get closer.”

  My steps faltered. I trembled as I searched the side street, looking for something that might help.

  The gray laughed loudly, and then glanced at me. “Ready to go?”

  No. But I was ready to kill him. Seeing Bishop hurt had brought something out from deep inside of me—something that saw red and wanted to inflict injury.

  But before I could take even another step closer—against Bishop’s wishes—the golden dagger sliced through the air, hitting the gray directly in the chest. He snarled with pain, then yanked it out and threw the now-bloody weapon away from him.

  I spun to see who’d thrown it. Zach had arrived and was crouched beside Cassandra. His eyes blazed bright blue in the darkness. Bishop’s weren’t the only eyes that did that; it was an angel thing.

  Zach had thrown the knife with perfect aim. And here I thought he was a peaceful angel who saved kids from drowning and could heal injuries.

  He was also a deadly warrior when necessary.

  For a horrible second I thought the dagger’d had no affect at all on this gray, that along with his super strength, he’d somehow become immortal and omnipotent.

  Not the case.

  He dropped to his knees. Blood soaked the front of his white shirt. He sent a hate-filled glare in my direction.

  “Take a good look,” he growled. “This is your future whether you like it or not. Soon enough, they’ll kill you, too.”

  He shuddered, then he fell forward onto the pavement.

  There wasn’t even a moment to catch my breath before the Hollow appeared out of nowhere and opened wide.

  I’d seen it twice before. Both times it had scared me so much I could barely function.

  Seeing a black, swirling vortex appear out of absolutely nowhere wasn’t the most natural sight in the world. It opened like a mouth with a bottomless hunger, ready to take whatever supernatural was in its path. It was triggered by a death, by blood, but it didn’t seem to differentiate between the living and the dead. If you were in its path, then you were in serious trouble.

  It was torture to think that Carly was in there somewhere—still alive. And I had no idea how to get her back out again.

  The gray was closest. With fingerlike tendrils of living, breathing darkness, the Hollow reached out like a horrible hand and pulled him into the vortex. I swear, it was bigger this time, and stronger, as if all of the supernaturals it had taken had made it gain a few pounds. It shifted as if scanning the area, stopping on me for a brief moment. I swear, the Hollow looked at me. Right at me.

  “Carly!” I screamed. “Carly! Where are you?”

  Maybe if she could hear me. Maybe...

  The horrific swirling gateway began to inch closer to me...nearer and nearer...

  But then Bishop grabbed hold of me and tried to drag me back, his teeth clenched with pain from his massive shoulder injury. It was enough to snap me out of my daze. I held on to him tightly. The Hollow wouldn’t hesitate to grab me. It had tried before, and I had the strangest feeling that it was annoyed that it hadn’t succeeded.

  “We’ll find Carly,” he shouted, barely loud enough for me to hear him over the roar of the Hollow. “But it won’t be tonight. I’m not losing you like this.”

  To my right, I saw a horrific sight. Cassandra’s unconscious body was sliding across the pavement toward the vortex that had moved away from me. It reached for her, black smoky fingers curling around her ankles.

  But then seemingly out of nowhere, Roth launched himself through the air, tackling Cassandra, and rolling them both out of range.

  With no one left in its sights, the Hollow began to swirl smaller and smaller until it finally, thankfully, disappeared completely. The thunderous sound—like being in the middle of a tornado—vanished like somebody had pressed the off button on a gigantic stereo.

  I still clung to Bishop. He pulled back from me, checking my face, my arms, making sure that I wasn’t hurt. His brows were drawn tightly together and his left arm hung slackly at his side.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded.

  I fought to breathe normally, but I nodded. “Bishop, your shoulder...”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s shattered.”

  “I’ll live. But you...” His gaze moved over my face, his brows tight together. “You’re not seriously hurt.”

  “No. But Cassandra is.”

  He swore under his breath. Then, with a last searching look, he pushed up off the ground and went to Cassandra’s side.

  It was so quick I’d barely had a chance to let the tantalizing scent of his soul affect me. I wished I could say that after what had happened with the gray it didn’t bother me, but it had. My hunger surged forward. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push it back.

  “Can you fix her?” Bishop’s words to Zach were tight. Roth, Zach and Bishop gathered in a circle around Cassandra.

  I stayed where I was, a safe distance away, watching tensely.

  “I think so.” Zach gently rolled Cassandra over onto her stomach.

  I’d experienced something extremely similar nearly two weeks ago when a searchlight had led me to Roth. When he’d been “reborn” after the ritual, he’d immediately sensed I was a gray. And he’d been sent here to kill grays. He quickly and efficiently broke my neck. I’d been only moments away from death when Zach managed to heal me. And I swear, when an angel heals you, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Better than that, really. My neck had honestly never felt so good. Still did. He was like a Heaven-sent chiropractor.

  “Cassandra, can you hear us?” Bishop asked, touching her shoulder gently.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Hold still and let Zach help you.”

  “All right. Go ahead.” Her pain-filled eyes narrowed. “And hurry up.”

  I couldn’t help but smile shakily at that. The angel was very bossy and it didn’t matter what the situation was. I wondered if all host angels were the same.

  Zach pushed her sweater up farther to reveal more of her winged-tattoo-like imprint, identical to Bishop’s and the other angels’. Then he placed his hands on Cassandra’s spine and closed his eyes. His hands began to glow white. Cassandra cried out, and every muscle in my body tensed in sympathy.

  I remembered that this felt worse before it felt better—like fire burning straight through your flesh and into your bones.

  Finally, Zach returned her sweater to its regular position and helped her to her feet. She wavered unsteadily for a moment, but then got her balance.

&nbs
p; “You’re next,” Zach said, before he quickly worked to heal Bishop’s broken shoulder and facial cuts and scrapes.

  This was close. Too close. That gray had wanted to crush him into dust right in front of me.

  Cassandra looked at Zach. “Thank you.” Then at Bishop. “Both of you.”

  Roth cleared his throat. She flicked a glance at him.

  “I saved you, sweetheart,” he told her flatly. “You almost got sucked into the Hollow.”

  Her expression tightened, but she finally nodded. “Thank you, Roth.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” He laughed. “I saved an angel’s ass. Can’t believe it. Good thing you’ve got a nice ass.”

  Her cheeks turned red before she looked at me. “I apologize for failing you.”

  I stared at her, stunned. “Failing me? He knocked you out cold.”

  “It’s unacceptable.” She shook her head, looking angry at herself. “I should have expected—”

  “Expected something like that?” Bishop said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re not omniscient. You didn’t know. That was different than anything we’ve ever been faced with before.”

  “It was horrible.” She let out a shaky sigh and let Bishop put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him.

  Despite everything we’d just experienced, the sight made my face start to burn. I fought hard not to let my inner flare of jealousy show on the surface. “He knew where Stephen was.”

  Bishop’s gaze flicked to mine. “Did you want us to let him live?”

  My attention brushed against the dead girl nearby and my throat closed. “No. He was a monster. But I—I don’t understand why he was that strong.”

  He let go of Cassandra to come stand right in front of me. I studied the ground, feeling his gaze on me, before I finally looked up to meet it. He raised his hand as if to touch me, but then his hand dropped to his side, clenching into a fist. “I haven’t seen anything like that before. Feeding too much...it must make them very strong just before it destroys their minds.”

  “Maybe he was about to change,” Roth said. “Maybe this was the last gasp of strength before he lost himself completely.”

  “I’m glad Cassandra will be staying with you,” Bishop said. “She can keep you safe.”

  “I’ll do my very best,” Cassandra said softly.

  She hadn’t exactly kept me safe a minute ago—or herself, for that matter. That gray would have easily dragged me out of here if Bishop hadn’t shown up. But I couldn’t hold it against her. That gray’s strength had been a surprise to all of us.

  “Go home. Get some rest,” Bishop said to me, then turned to Cassandra. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “Again, thank you for your assistance. I thought we were on our own.”

  “Bishop tends to stalk from a discreet distance,” I said. “You’ll hardly notice him, really.”

  His gaze snapped to mine and a smile tugged at his lips. “I’m not stalking you. Never have.”

  The smile helped warm me. “Watching from a distance. Secretly observing my every move. I think you might need a dictionary, angel.”

  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  My cheeks heated again, for a completely different reason this time. “Thank you.”

  Finally, with effort, I tore my gaze from his and began walking away. Cassandra caught up to me a block later. We exchanged a look, and I couldn’t help but notice her expression and mood were much graver than they had been when we’d left the church.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She just nodded, keeping her eyes on the path ahead of us.

  Even for an angel, being broken and then healed again had to be a traumatic experience. I’d planned to dislike her forever, especially due to her immediate connection with Bishop, but I found I couldn’t after what had happened.

  I wasn’t saying I liked her, but despising her for being perfect, blonde and beautiful wasn’t a good enough reason for absolute and immediate dismissal.

  I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty sure Bishop followed us back to my house at a discreet distance.

  I’d only been kidding before about him being my stalker.

  He was definitely my guardian angel.

  Chapter 7

  So much had happened tonight, it was hard to believe it was only a little after nine o’clock when we finally arrived at the small bungalow I shared with my mother.

  Home sweet home. I had to say, just the sight of the familiar house helped calm my nerves. Even considering who was with me.

  I’d lived here all my life. Until a couple years ago, it was me, my mother and my father. Since the separation, it was just me and Mom. My father lived in England now. I only saw him rarely. Even the emails had started to come with less frequency than they used to.

  It would make me sad if I let myself think about it too much.

  “Here we are,” I said, stopping at the end of the driveway. My mother’s car was here. I guess she wasn’t working late tonight. Miracles happen.

  Cassandra had been very quiet the rest of the way here, as if lost in her thoughts. Her expression revealed nothing about how she felt about having her back broken by a gray...and now voluntarily sharing a house with another one.

  In the silence, I’d found it impossible not to think about that gray’s victim. One moment swept away by a kiss from a sexy stranger, the next feeling your life fading away to nothing. A kiss of death.

  She didn’t have a chance.

  I swallowed past the thick lump in my throat and tried to focus on something else, anything else. I’d decided to tell my mother that Cassandra was one of my friends from school. That her parents were gone for a few days, and she was afraid to be alone.

  Not perfect, but it would do. My mother would believe it. She believed a lot of things without asking too many questions.

  I let Cassandra into the house, eyeing her warily as she brushed past me. She studied everything her gaze landed on as if assessing it for a future report. The bamboo blind at the window, the colorful rug by the front door. The framed photos on the walls, which no longer included my father.

  My mother pretended not to dwell on the divorce, but I knew it hadn’t been her decision. My father hadn’t moved across the ocean just to work at the London branch of his law firm...he’d moved there to be with a beautiful blonde British intern half his age. He almost never emailed anymore and I couldn’t remember the last time we talked on the phone.

  I tried to follow Mom’s lead and not dwell on things like that. But it made me understand my mother’s angst.

  The sight of empty wine bottles lined up to go into the recycling bin made me wince. Cassandra didn’t seem to notice, but I did. There were way more this week than usual. And there were usually too many.

  I wasn’t the only one in the family with a growing addiction to something unhealthy.

  “Sam, I’m glad you’re home,” my mother greeted me warmly as we entered the living room. I wasn’t surprised to see that she held a large glass of white wine. On her lap was a stack of papers she was going through. She was a real-estate agent, a job she was good at and put long hours into, seven days a week. I used to complain—to myself, to her, to anyone who’d listen—about how obsessed she was with the job and making money and how she had no time for me.

  Since I’d learned I was adopted, she’d tried very hard to mend our shaky relationship by making sure we spent a little time
together every day. She assured me that she was a great listener if I had any problems, and that she was here for me, no matter what. And yet, there were more wine bottles by the door than usual.

  Stress showed itself in different ways.

  I was on edge, but knew I had to hold it together. This was the one place I could still feel like myself. Home was my touchstone for being normal.

  And now there was an angel here—one who’d never even been human before. There was nothing normal about that. My mother’s gaze moved to her as she entered the room.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, clearing my throat. “This is Cassandra. She’s a friend of mine.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Cassandra. Call me Eleanor.” My mother got up from her chair and came over to shake Cassandra’s hand. There was a genuine smile on her face. “I’m so glad Sam’s hanging out with new friends. After what happened with Carly, I know the past week’s been rough.”

  My eyes started to sting immediately at the mention of my best friend. Mom was one of the people who believed in the “running away with a boyfriend” story. Most brushed it off as the act of a rebellious teenager. But Mom has seen me cry over this and she knew I was taking Carly’s absence hard. She thought I saw it as a betrayal of our friendship.

  She was wrong. It was a tragedy.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Cassandra said. “You have a lovely home.”

  “Thank you.”

  Well, weren’t we all pleasant and polite?

  “I, um, need to ask a favor...” I began, ready to launch into my cover story. But Cassandra took over for me before I said another word. She still held my mother’s hand and she looked deep into her eyes.

  “I’m going to be staying here with you and Samantha for a little while, Eleanor,” she said smoothly. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with. Do you understand?”

  My mother nodded slowly. “I understand.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Cassandra was using angelic influence to mess with my mother’s mind. Zach and Connor could do the same thing, but only in emergencies.