by Zoe Winters
“Hmmm?”
“What’s with you today? Seriously, you’re different.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m the same as I always was.” She tried to brush him off, but her voice sounded shrill even to her own ears.
His fingertips brushed over the back of her hand again, lingering this time.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Kurt was beautiful. All the warrior angels were, but that wasn’t the point. They didn’t touch each other at all. Except during prayers.
“Nothing. I’m not doing anything.”
But he was still touching her. She pulled away and stood to leave the circle, hoping it didn’t look abrupt or suspicious when she already needed to tread carefully with Rodolfo nearby.
“It’s just… you’re different,” he said.
“Yes, you said that.” Between Rodolfo making the comment about her aura, and Kurt not being able to keep from touching her, she was sure that letting Hadrian feed from her had caused some fundamental change in her angel essence. Something carnal and unspeakable, and she wasn’t sure how long she would be able to hide it or how lasting the effects might be. If she was smart, she knew she would avoid Hadrian and never return to Our Lady of Mercy.
Rodolfo approached them. “Kurt, I need to speak with you.”
“Sure, boss.”
Kurt got up, all business now, and followed Rodolfo into a nearby chapel. Rodolfo hadn’t paid her any attention, and Kurt had seemed to forget about her and whatever he sensed from her essence as well.
Still. With the weird way Kurt had behaved, she was afraid he’d say something to the other angel. She nonchalantly wandered to the chapel and went to the back to stand near an open window so she could hear them.
“Kurt, we’ll need you to meet with the rest of the warrior class and the council in a few hours. The man upstairs has been notified of the situation developing on the human plane.”
“Cain wants us to fight with him to subdue the humans.”
Rodolfo let out a full-throated laugh. “As if we would ever join with a demon. No, the man upstairs wants us to end this thing now. If the humans are planning a war and gathering magic users on their side, it will be easier for us to defeat the demons, vampires, and the fallen angels while they’re distracted by the larger fight.”
“And what about the shifters? The therians?”
“If they’re smart, they’ll fight with us. They won’t wish to be on the losing side. After all, the prophecies say…”
Angeline zoned out from Rodolfo’s prophetic rambling. In all her time in Heaven she’d never seen God. They didn’t even call him God. They called him “the man upstairs”. She still couldn’t determine if this label was a joke, or if the word God was too sacred to say. Either way, she’d never met him. It was always Rodolfo or another of the higher-ups who would come down with some supposed message from him or some order that they all must follow.
In moments of minor rebellious thought, she’d wondered if there even was a god behind the curtain at all. There had to be, but if he was there, he didn’t hold court with the lesser angels. What the hell did he even do all the time? As far as she knew, he wasn’t “upstairs” anywhere. There was a mountain range the lower-level angels were forbidden to cross, and it was said that he lived in those mountains.
She crouched behind a fat, bushy tree as the door to the chapel opened and the two angels left. When they were gone, she retreated to her home, wishing her door had a lock. It felt dangerous to have secret things in her closet. She was sure there was no rule against her black and red corsets, but there would definitely be questions if someone ever saw them. After all, why would she have them? What purpose did they serve? And those colors… far too inappropriate for an angel to ever wear. It was white and pastels for them. Anything else was looked on with suspicion.
Angeline dug through the back of the closet until she came out with a large white carpetbag. She carefully removed each of the darker corsets from the closet and put them in the bag. They were too risky to keep here. If they were found, that combined with the reactions Kurt and Rodolfo had to her would only bring her danger. After a moment’s hesitation, she slipped one of the lower-backed ivory corsets into the bag as well.
She wasn’t packing them up because Hadrian had asked her to. That would be weird and ridiculous.
***
Hadrian smelled her even before she pushed the door open to his church. Angel blood. Angeline’s blood. He hadn’t expected her to come back, even though she’d promised. How could absolution from him be so important to her?
She had a direct line to God, didn’t she? Up there in sparkling Heaven? How could a vampire’s forgiveness mean anything to her in light of what she had?
“F-Father Hadrian?”
He stood in the center of the aisle, watching as the door creaked open the slightest fraction, and then the rest of the way as she slipped inside. She carried a large bag with her and wore a long shimmering white cloak with a hood over her dress. Bits of golden thread had been woven into the fabric so that she glittered when she moved.
Hadrian kept his expression guarded. If she wanted him to forgive her, she had to work for it. He wouldn’t allow her the luxury of thinking it was a done deal, even if the potent bouquet of her blood on his tongue had sealed that eventuality already.
“Come downstairs.”
She didn’t say anything as she followed him down the darkened back staircase. He crossed to the wardrobe in the corner and opened it.
“You can hang your things inside here.”
“Thank you.”
He went to the leather chair and sank into it to watch her flit about the wardrobe as she unpacked the bag. The corsets were strapless much like the one he’d discovered under her dress the previous night, except these were higher in the back and in darker colors. She took great care to hang them with the laces draped over the hangers. Then she hung her cloak and slipped her bag inside.
“Really, Angeline?” Did she think he only wanted her to bring them, not wear them? She was far too old to be that naïve, though she did have a strange innocence that seemed to cling to her as a result of her new species. But he knew she remembered their last time together.
He joined her at the wardrobe to admire the corsets. “These are extremely nice. Angels don’t use money. How did you get these?” They surely couldn’t just be lying around Heaven in the mystical corset cave.
She looked at the ground as if she’d been caught at something. He adjusted his pants before she could catch her affect on him. His body may want her, but he wasn’t about to fall for her tricks again. She was a food source, there to take a little pain and burn out the bits of rage he still felt toward her. There would be no candy hearts and kittens between them.
“Well? How did you get them?”
“I’m s-sorry.”
He chuckled. He couldn’t help it. Why should she apologize to him for this? Who cared where she’d gotten them? He was merely curious. But he pushed her further anyway. “And what are you sorry for?”
“I stole them from a high-end lingerie shop.”
He shook his head. Tsk tsk. “What will I do with you little angel? Should we add to your sentence for that? Come here.”
She was only a few steps away, so close he could have reached out and pulled her to him, but he waited for her to take the steps herself. When she reached him, he turned her around and began on the laborious task of unbuttoning what felt like hundreds of buttons going down her back. Her breath turned shaky as each button came undone.
“Why did you return here?” he asked.
“You told me to.”
“And do you always do what the devil says? Not very angelic of you.”
“You’re not the devil.”
“Aren’t I? Wasn’t that what you wanted when you turned me?”
“I wanted a mate who could understand me. I was lonely. I told you we were the same.”
He pushed the dress off her shoulders and
down past her hips until it fell in a pool around her feet. “Yes, I remember that little speech. Step out.” He took her hand and helped her extricate herself from the pile of fabric, then he started on the laces of the corset. “And do you still believe we are the same?” Instead of loosening them, he pulled the laces tighter.
She gasped. “Y-yes.”
What would he do with her? Just her being here to let him feed from her as if he had any right to angel blood at all was a small miracle in itself. But now that he’d tasted her, he intended to never stop feeding from her. Human blood would always be a weak and watered-down replacement for the prize he now held in his arms.
Hadrian loosened the laces and removed the corset. He pawed through the darker ones in the closet until he found a red one he liked. When he turned back, Angeline’s arms were crossed over her chest.
“Where did you acquire this sudden sense of modesty? You were nothing like this the last time.”
“It’s just been a long time. I-it’s very strange for me. Are you going to…?”
“Throw you down on the altar and desecrate my church again? Doubtful.”
Hadrian helped her into the red corset without further comment. He wanted to drink. He wanted to watch her blood trail down her smooth, pale skin. He pulled the laces tight until she gasped again.
His mouth was next to her ear when he said in a low rumble, “With this on, do you think you could get your wings out in time to protect yourself from me?”
“You won’t hurt me.”
Such confidence, this one.
“Sweetheart,that’s all I’ll do.” She cried out when his fangs struck at her throat. He pulled away and dragged his tongue over the trail that ran down her skin. “I love that sound. Make it for me again.” She didn’t disappoint him when he pierced her flesh again. She whimpered and mewled against him, a frantic sound that didn’t subside until he’d had his fill of her.
Hadrian held her tight against him as he sealed the puncture marks. “Now go get in the bed, just like last night. I don’t want you to wear anything.”
She didn’t ask why. It would be a perfectly normal question. If he didn’t plan to fuck her, why did he want her naked in his bed? He watched her this time to see if she’d still do what he asked if he refused to turn away. Her face and body flushed pink under the scrutiny of his stare, but she still did as he requested.
When she was underneath the blankets, he settled in the chair beside the bed and watched her.
“Father Hadrian?”
She hadn’t presumed to call him by his first name, and he couldn’t yet bring himself to ask her to. To allow it would be to admit his anger with her was already melting, that this might be something more than a desire to dole out perfunctory punishment to someone he cared nothing about.
“Yes?”
Her glittering blue eyes met his. “I have to tell you something important.”
She seemed to need encouragement to continue. “Well?”
“Today I overheard a couple of higher-level angels discussing a war.”
“That’s the word on the street,” Hadrian said.
“N-no, I mean, they want to join it. And not on your side. They want to take down every demon and part demon to bring on the final apocalyptic fight. I-I think you know what I’m talking about.”
Interesting. The angels wouldn’t be looking for an opportunistic moment if they were confident in their success, no matter how much they liked to boast about their assured victory. If it was so assured, why were they waiting until the moment when their enemy would be most distracted and weak?
“I-I think we need to warn someone.”
“And why would we want to do that? Don’t you want your team to win?”
Her eyes rose to his. “No.”
His little angel was full of surprises. But then, he’d never bought that she could ever be truly innocent again, not after the side of her he’d already seen.
“Care to enlighten me as to why?”
She closed her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek. “I hate it there. It’s warm… but it’s cold. Emotionally cold. Everyone is distant. No one… no one touches anyone, and they aren’t allowed to. I don’t feel… c-connected to anything. And it’s all about following orders without question.”
“You’ve followed my orders without question.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“It just is.”
He watched the struggle flit over her face as she tried to sort through her motives.
“Rest. I’ll wake you in time so you aren’t late for prayers.” He tried not to think about why he went over and brushed the hair from her face and pressed a kiss against her forehead.
Chapter Four
Angeline woke abruptly. Another dream stealing her breath in the night. It was Linus again. She’d been locked underneath the opera house until she’d agreed to kill a meal like a real vampire. Why hadn’t they erased those memories when they’d elevated her? They could have taken them all… Linus, her history as a vampire, turning Hadrian… but the memories had remained intact, as well as the dreams that often came with them.
Though she’d woken with a start, she hadn’t screamed or shot up in bed, or anything dramatic that would draw the vampire’s attention. Father Hadrian was engrossed in a novel in his black chair in the main part of the basement. She expected him to read the classics or a book of a spiritual nature, but he was reading a murder mystery that involved baked pastries.
She was glad she hadn’t called his attention. She couldn’t imagine he would care or come comfort her. Angeline didn’t have illusions any longer. She didn’t expect him to wake up one night and realize they were meant to be. She wasn’t sure when he’d tire of his game, punishing and feeding from her. Angel blood was such a rare thing for a vampire that of course he’d do anything to get some. No vampire would refuse it, if any angel was ever demented enough to offer it.
With Hadrian sitting just feet away, she felt safe to close her eyes again. Linus is dead. He’s not coming for you. She’d watched him die in the vampire tournament when Anthony had become king. He’d already come back to the human plane, as a precocious and rather evil little girl, hardly a threat to Angeline. And yet, without Hadrian so nearby, she wasn’t sure she would be able to even try to go back to sleep.
She watched the reading vampire for a few more minutes, and then closed her eyes. Instead of Linus in her mind’s eye, it was the earlier feeding. She could almost feel the corset cinched so tight that she was distracted from the sting of his bite. It had hurt, but it wasn’t a pain she couldn’t tolerate. It was a pain that made her feel real, grounded, anchored to this plane. The way he’d possessively gripped her waist was more passion than she’d had in decades.
Given how she’d been as a vampire, it was so ludicrous that she should nearly come undone from such relatively innocent touch. Hadrian hadn’t even noticed when her fingernails had dug into his hand, creating crescent moon slivers and tiny drops of blood that healed when she relaxed her grip.
She felt herself blush remembering the heated look he’d given her when she’d undressed and gotten into the bed. Why didn’t he touch her? There had been clear desire in his eyes, but for the second night in a row he’d resisted.
A loud bang on the door upstairs had her bolting up. Hadrian startled as well. His eyes met hers. “Stay.”
Her gaze followed him up the stairs. At first she stayed like he’d asked. But why should she? Was she his dog? And yet, she felt somehow that if she could be good he’d forgive her. She didn’t imagine they would live happily ever after. She’d been around long enough to know that wouldn’t happen, but if he could just not hate her, not look on her with contempt like he had that first night she’d been back in his church.
When she heard yelling, she forgot everything but her protective instincts. Her wings shot out and she scurried up the stairs, not caring about her nudity.
Hadrian stood with the
door propped open, arguing loudly with someone on the other side. As she drew closer, she could make out their words.
“For the last time, you can’t come in. Even if I wanted to let you in, you can’t get past the wards. How in the hell did you even find me?”
“We figured you were holed up somewhere in the area, and Anthony thought the place might have some history so we searched old newspapers and discovered you’d been connected with this church as a human.” The man, no… vampire at the door raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle. “You really do have an angel.”
Hadrian turned, his eyes narrowing on her. It made her pull her wings protectively in front of her to cover her nudity, which had started to matter again.
“I thought I told you to stay downstairs,” he growled.
“I-I heard yelling. I was worried that you…”
“That I couldn’t handle myself? I’ve been handling myself fine for decades no thanks to you.”
She flinched. Why had she thought he was beginning to stop hating her? He’d put the wall back up. The same wall that had been there when she’d first come to warn him.
“If we could interrupt this lovers’ quarrel to deliver a message from the king…”
Hadrian growled and turned back to the vampires at the door. “WHAT?”
“He’s offered a formal pardon if you’ll bring the angel tomorrow night to a meeting at the penthouse.”
“What does he want with her? She’s mine.”
Not your most healthy relationship, Angeline. Then again, it wasn’t her most unhealthy relationship either, and it was hard to know which realization was worse.
The other vampire looked from Hadrian to Angeline. “Anthony needs every fighter he can get and wants to organize the factions for the coming war. He wants extra protection for his family. He’ll put things aside if you bring the angel to watch over them.”
Hadrian looked back at her, his gaze inscrutable. Then he turned his attention back to the vampire outside the church. “She’s an angel. It’s not as if I can make her do anything. It has to be up to her. Angeline?”
“I-I can’t just go on rogue assignments. I have to report in or I’ll be in trouble.” She also didn’t think she could stand to face Anthony again, though maybe he wouldn’t remember her. He was old. A few years association with her and Linus might not be a blip on his radar.
