by S. J. Day
“You just did,” Eve pointed out wryly, holding a bag of ice over a bruise on her thigh. The chill felt good, as did the dampness of her recently washed hair. The mark was mending her injuries—which included a myriad of cuts and bruises as well as a broken rib, collapsed lung, and fractured leg—at an astonishing rate. The healing process caused her temperature to run high—almost as high as the level of testosterone in the room. Alec and Reed glowered at each other from opposite sides of the expansive space. One stood with arms crossed and legs wide; the other leaned into the wall with dangerous casualness.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Reed snapped at her.
“You have to ask?” she retorted. “You’re the one who gave me the assignment.”
“To vanquish him. Not skydive with him!”
Her hand went to Satan’s necklace, now hanging around her neck. “He wanted this. I got the impression Satan sent him after it just to teach the dumbass a lesson.”
“Sammael clearly has a death wish,” Alec said in a moderated tone at odds with the look of mayhem in his dark eyes. “Damned if I’ll let him play his games with your life.”
She looked at Gadara. “How are the other Marks in the area?”
The archangel shot a meaningful glance at Reed. “Abel is about to check on them and their handlers.”
He’s punishing me, Reed complained. It’s going to take all night. Following up on the handlers is his job, not mine.
I’m glad you’re the one doing it, though, she offered. You give a shit.
Alec straightened from his position at the wall. “Time for you two to leave. Eve needs to rest so she can heal.”
“Then you better get out of here, too,” Reed shot back.
“She needs someone to make sure she takes it easy.” Alec glanced at her. “Since she’s my girl, I’ll be the one to do it.”
Reed’s lip curled scornfully before he shifted away.
“Take the next two days off,” Gadara said, heading toward the door of her suite on foot. “I need you in prime shape.”
She returned his parting wave.
When the door clicked shut, Alec closed the distance between them and sat on the coffee table in front of her. “I need you alive.”
“If Satan really wanted me dead, he would have sent someone more substantial after me. Especially knowing I have this damn necklace. By the way, I hate this thing. It feels like a bomb around my neck.”
Tick tock, tick tock. The lovely gold piece had definitely come with conditions she wasn’t fully aware of yet—like using her to purge his ranks of stupid demons.
“It’s a godsend,” he argued.
“From Satan?”
“Jehovah works in mysterious ways. Besides, you need all the help you can get. You attract disasters, Angel.”
“Including you.”
His mouth curved in a sexy smile. “Especially me.”
“I’d like to meet the Mark who was in the Elvis impersonator competition.”
“Why?”
“You have to ask? A Mark who spends his off-duty time playing Elvis? I’d love to know what he does in his on-duty time.”
“He entertains.”
Her brows rose. “His job is to entertain?”
“We all have our talents.”
Eve’s earlier suspicion grew. “Are you saying—?”
“That we can talk about it after you’ve gotten some sleep?” he interjected. “Absolutely.”
As if on cue, a wave of exhaustion swept over her. She managed to yawn and glare at the same time.
Standing, Alec scooped her up gingerly from the couch and carried her to the bedroom. “Time to crash and heal.”
“Sounds good to me,” she mumbled.
He tucked her in and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You better be.” He hadn’t been ten years ago.
“Damn straight. You’re stuck with me now. Someone’s got to keep that tight little ass of yours out of trouble.”
Eve would have argued that he was the reason she’d been marked to begin with, but she fell asleep.
Acquired and edited for Tor.com by Melissa Ann Singer.
Books by S.J. Day
THE MARKED SERIES
Eve of Darkness
Eve of Destruction
Eve of Chaos
