“Don’t change the subject,” he said. “Battle is in my nature; it’s my purpose in life. Yours is to rule.”
“Not any longer. Raziel rules, and rules wisely. I have another role to play, and I no longer fight it. As for my death wish—it would be useless to deny it. Sarah’s death was … too much. I had no warning, no preparation, and I was tired of it all. But I’ve changed my mind.”
“Because you’ve fallen in love with a demon?” Raziel arched an eyebrow. “Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.”
“She’s no more a demon than I am. Which I suppose is a possibility, if you read certain scrolls,” he added with uncharacteristic humor. He had begun to find certain things oddly amusing recently, which still managed to astonish him.
“That still begs the question. Are you telling us you’re in love with the woman whose death you’ve been seeking for the last seven years?”
“No. Of course not. But there remains a connection, for good or ill, and it’s our only hope.”
“And if you die?” Michael said.
Azazel shrugged. “Then I die. I’ve lived an endless life; I’ve been on earth for millennia. I am not afraid of death, even if I no longer embrace it.”
“What if death is some eternal damnation we haven’t figured out?” Raziel demanded.
“Even then. But I doubt that will be the case. I think for those of us who are cursed, our fate will be an eternal nothingness. With just enough awareness to recognize it.”
“It sounds like hell to me,” Michael grumbled.
“It sounds peaceful,” Azazel said. “But it is not my time, and won’t be. We will mate and bond, and Uriel will know, and it will drive him insane with worry.”
“And you’re willing to put up with her being your bonded mate? Even if your feelings are, shall we say, lukewarm, you know as well as I do what bonding does to a female. She’ll be tied to you, and there won’t be any escape.”
“I know.”
“She’ll be taking Sarah’s place,” Michael said with devastating bluntness, going straight for the heart, the warrior whose arrow was true.
“I know,” Azazel said again. “But she will not serve as the Source. As far as I can tell, she has no powers left to her—she’s fully human. And if we find we are not compatible, there are endless jobs I’m needed for away from Sheol. I don’t anticipate her being a problem.”
“All right,” Raziel said finally. “Just make sure you don’t drain her. It would solve my problem, but Uriel might think it would get in the way of a happy marriage.”
“The corpse bride,” Michael said with a dark laugh. “Why not?”
Azazel said nothing.
THE PROBLEM WITH EAVESDROPPING WAS that you never heard good stuff, like someone talking about your intelligence and beauty, or hell, even something boring like the weather. You were more than likely to hear something you’d be better off not hearing. Otherwise they would have said it to your face.
I was being ridiculous, of course. Why should I think he’d fallen in love with me, simply because he’d announced I was his chosen? I imagined a chosen mate in this clearly patriarchal society was simply whomever he fancied who would hold still long enough. The whole thing about poisoned blood was bogus. In fact, the whole thing about blood was probably bullshit. It had nothing to do with us.
Except that I remembered in the darkness, in the rain, I’d bit him, tearing his skin, licking at his blood. Why? I was no blood-eater. It apparently was a curse for the Fallen alone, yet I’d sought his out. Maybe I was simply kinky when I was so aroused that I couldn’t think. Anything was possible, considering I had never been so aroused in my life.
It would serve him right if I bit him again, but I doubted he’d care. In fact, I thought, bored forbearance was the way to deal with things, since that was most likely how he’d handle it. So what if I’d experienced astonishing pleasure with his lean, beautiful body? I could control my own reactions. He could do anything he wanted, and I’d simply think about something else.
It would drive him crazy.
“What are you grinning at?” Allie demanded, coming up beside me. “You look positively wicked.”
“We all have wicked thoughts,” I said serenely, moving away from my listening post. In truth, it hadn’t been my fault. I’d simply gone in search of some quiet, finding it in the low-slung chairs out on one of the decks. I hadn’t realized it led off from the assembly room.
“Come see your rooms.”
“The bed in the infirmary is just fine—”
“No, I’m talking about Azazel’s rooms. And yours.”
“I am not—I repeat, not—going to share rooms with Azazel. I’ll mate with him, do the bonding-blood thing, but that’s it. Afterward we can go our separate ways.”
Allie shook her head. “No, you can’t. It’s permanent. A tie that can’t be broken, except by death.”
“Death didn’t seem to break the tie between Azazel and Sarah.” I hated the thought of her existence, even though she had been only one of an endless line of human wives he’d outlived.
“That was more the circumstances of her death than the tie between them,” Allie said gently. “Sarah would have let him go, wanted him to let go. But Azazel can be very stubborn, and he was filled with rage and had no way to vent it.”
“Except to go after a demon. Why me? Why did he suddenly decide that he had to kill me?”
“Because of the prophecy, of course. You were supposed to take Sarah’s place. He wanted to make certain that was impossible.” She was trying to make it reasonable, but I wasn’t buying it.
“By disposing of the demon,” I said.
“Yes. But you need to realize he didn’t know you were no longer a demon,” she said fairly. “He thought you were a monster who killed babies.”
“He shouldn’t believe the bad publicity.”
“He wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“And I’m supposed to forgive him? Because he didn’t know?”
“I don’t know that he wants your forgiveness,” Allie said. “I don’t think he’s there yet. He’s too caught up in guilt.”
“Tough,” I snapped, feeling brutal. “I’m not sharing the rooms, the bed he shared with his beloved Sarah.” I was horrified to realize that I sounded jealous. What was wrong with me?
“You won’t be. These are new rooms. It seemed wisest—Azazel is better off without the Alpha quarters.”
“But I thought Raziel was the Alpha.” I was trying not to think about Saint Sarah and her sleeping arrangements. I was trying not to think about why I was feeling such resentment. But I was being eaten up with jealousy.
“Raziel has only been the Alpha since Sarah died. The only Alpha the Fallen have ever had besides Azazel. So you don’t have to worry about any old memories getting in the way of your relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” I said.
Allie just smiled.
A few minutes later she pushed open the heavy wooden door to the suite and gestured me inside. I paused for a moment, taking it in.
The living room was beautiful. Almost Japanese in its simplicity, with low-slung couches and lower tables, it felt quiet and peaceful. Almost as if it were waiting for someone.
“The bedroom’s just beyond,” Allie said helpfully, and I couldn’t avoid it.
It was beautiful as well, with a huge bed as the centerpiece. A bed I’d share with Azazel, I thought, grimacing. It was a lovely room, and the bathroom was a sybarite’s dream. I could be happy in these rooms. If I didn’t have to share them.
“Whose rooms were these?” I asked, running my hand along the thick silk coverlet on the bed. It was deep red, the color of wine. The color of blood, I thought absently. Maybe they wanted to hide the stains.
“Tam’s last wife was into decorating, and she wanted to make a honeymoon suite. No one’s used it—you won’t find any memories here.”
I took one last look around me, then nodded and head
ed back into the living room. “All right,” I said. “I like it. The question is, where do I sleep until we do this mating thing?”
Allie’s expression was one of grave concern. “Didn’t you realize, Rachel? It’s going to be tonight.”
Shit, I thought, taking another look around me. “What if I’m not ready?”
“Have you changed your mind? You’re allowed to.”
“No, I haven’t changed my mind. I just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.”
“We might as well get it over and done with,” Azazel’s voice came from the doorway.
C HAPTER T WENTY
SHE LOOKED AS IF SHE EXPECTED him to cut her throat in order to drink her blood, Azazel thought grimly. He still wasn’t sure why the hell she’d agreed to this. He’d expected he’d have to spend days, weeks, breaking down her resistance. No one had been more shocked when she’d returned to the council chamber and announced she’d do it.
She had a trace of sunburn on her nose. No wonder—with her flaming hair she had very pale skin, and she’d headed straight out into the midday sun. He’d kept an eye on her through the council-room windows, watched her as she sat staring at the water. He’d known the moment she’d made up her mind, known by the squaring of her shoulders. He just hadn’t known what that decision would be.
And now she was here, in the Alpha’s rooms, looking at him like he was her worst nightmare. She was right. If he’d left her alone two years ago, she could have had a peaceful life. The demon inside her had probably already left her, though he wasn’t intuitive enough to recognize its disappearance. He could only trust Allie’s word.
But it was too late for what-ifs. She was wearing some shapeless white thing, and he hated it. He wanted to tear it off her, with his teeth if need be. He wanted Allie to get the hell out of there and leave them alone. He could smell Rachel’s blood through her skin.
He smiled politely. He’d spent too much time hating both of the women before him, wanting them both dead, and it was all connected to Sarah. To missing her as if a piece of himself had been cut out.
He wasn’t going to let that happen again. It was too painful, and it spilled over onto the innocent. He wasn’t going to feel that obsessive love again. He would mate with Rachel, bond with her, and that would be that. Uriel would be enraged, and they could concentrate on fighting him, not worrying about wives and mates and sex and blood.
Sex and blood. He looked at Rachel and his nostrils flared. “Why don’t you leave us, Allie?” he said in his even voice. He had worked eons to perfect the cool unconcern he usually displayed, and he wasn’t about to give it away now.
“Why?” Rachel said nervously.
But Allie merely gave her an encouraging smile and slipped out the door, closing it behind her.
For a moment he wondered if she’d make a run for it. “You can always change your mind,” he said softly.
“And have the fate of the world weighing on my shoulders? I don’t think so. If all I have to do is lie back and let you do me, then I think I can manage.”
“Do you?” he echoed, startled and amused.
“I’ve decided I don’t like the word fuck,” she said primly. “So, exactly how do we go about accomplishing this?”
At that point he did smile. He couldn’t help it. She was not happy with the situation, and he couldn’t blame her. “I think we managed well enough before.”
“I mean, do you bite me before or after?”
She was nervous, which surprised him, given the sex they’d had both in her room in the Dark City and outside in the pouring rain with the Nightmen bearing down on them. It had been intense, visceral, animalistic, strong enough to shake him to his bones. He wouldn’t have thought she’d retain any shyness after that. “I thought you remembered everything from before,” he said. “You’re acting like a scared virgin, not a succubus.”
“I wasn’t a succubus!”
“You bedded down with monsters.”
“And I’m doing it again,” she shot back. “The good thing is, I don’t remember it. With luck, I’m going to forget all about you.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. “Not ever.” And he started toward her.
I HELD MY GROUND. HE probably wanted me to run, to be afraid, but I knew there was nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn’t hurt me, not deliberately. I had agreed to this, and my motives weren’t completely noble. I wanted to see if having sex with him was as devastating an experience as it had been before, before he’d betrayed me. I wanted to see if this time I could resist him. I wanted to see if I was the weak, useless creature I feared I was. I wanted … I wanted him.
He didn’t pull me into his arms, as I’d expected. I was prepared to be stiff and unyielding, but he made no attempt to touch me. He simply stood there, too tall, looming over me in his dark clothes, while I was wearing the flowing white pajamas Allie had brought me. It seemed symbolic.
He reached out and undid the first button on the front of my loose white jacket, his touch so light that I didn’t feel it, just felt the button give way. He moved to the second, again that deft touch, and cool air danced against my skin.
I swallowed. My heart was hammering, and I tried to remember tricks I had learned, ways to slow my heartbeat and my breathing, ways to calm my body. I tried to picture a cool, glassy pool. Another button gone. Imagined lying in a field of green, looking up into the blue, blue sky, watching the clouds chase each other as birds sang noisily. Another button, and I didn’t think there were many left. I wasn’t going to look down—that would make things worse. I closed my eyes, humming in my mind, some nonsense song to try to drive away the feel of the cool air against my suddenly hot skin. He reached the last button, and it was all I could do not to jump away from him.
I could think of nothing to distract me as he pushed the jacket off my shoulders, letting it slide down my arms and onto the floor, so that I was standing there in a loose tank top, the drawstring pants, and nothing more. The Fallen didn’t seem to believe in underwear, and I’d had to insist on the tank top to wear beneath the clothes, despite Allie’s arguments. He surveyed me for a long moment, tilting his head slightly as his heavy-lidded gaze washed over me.
“Try counting to one hundred in Latin,” he suggested affably, reaching for the hem of the tank top. “That might work.”
I glared at him. I’d forgotten he could occasionally read my thoughts. “Do you know how annoying that is?” I said, trying to work up a good head of steam.
“I don’t care.” Before I realized what he was doing, he’d skinned me out of the tank top and tossed it on the floor, leaving me half-naked.
Okay, he’d already seen me that way. My nipples tightened instinctively in the warm room, remembering his touch on them, his mouth on them, sucking, and I—
I wasn’t going to get aroused. Cool water, I thought, mentally letting it wash over my heated skin. He didn’t touch my breasts, when I was expecting him to, had steeled myself against it, and somehow that was even more arousing. The anticipation was making the blood pool everywhere it needed to. Blood, I reminded myself, trying to cool the heat in me. For some reason it only made me hotter.
He was going to unfasten the drawstring next, and the pants would go sliding onto the floor and I’d be naked, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. Not without going back on my word. I waited, impatient.
But he didn’t. Instead he picked me up, and at his touch I froze, remembering his arms supporting me against that wooden door, remembering his strength, remembering his betrayal. Wanting to cry, when despite my lack of demonhood I still hadn’t been able to summon tears, only dry, racking sobs when no one was around.
There would be no tears in front of Azazel. He carried me into the bedroom, even though I was stiff as a board, and set me down on the huge bed. A second later he followed, kneeling over me.
“Uh, don’t you think we ought to pull down the covers?” I said nervously.
“Why? Do you think we’l
l mess them up?”
Asshole, I thought, glaring at him.
“Green fields and blue skies, Rachel,” he said. “Lie back and think of England, remember?”
I lay back, more to get my breasts out of his way than for any other reason. I was still expecting him to pull off the loose pants, but he did nothing, and I wondered if he was going to bite me first.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, my broken voice edgy.
“And which question was that?”
“Are you going to bite me before or after sex?”
His bright blue eyes met mine. “During,” he said, and put his hand between my legs.
I arched off the bed, surprised, aroused by his touch through the fabric. Reflexively I tried to close my legs, but he moved one knee between them, keeping them apart, as his long fingers moved between my legs, touching me through the light cotton. “Why are you wet, demon?” he whispered. “You’re not supposed to be liking this.”
“I’m … I’m not a demon any longer,” I said in a tight voice, trying to fight the insidious feelings that were sweeping through me. His touch was light, but even I could feel the dampness as he slid the cloth against me.
“No,” he said, leaning forward, one hand braced on the bed, the other still between my legs. “Only to me.”
I felt sorrow and disappointment begin to overtake me, but he brushed my lips with his, so softly that it felt like a benediction. “You have become my own personal demon. You haunt me, tempt me, drive me mad with wanting you, and I can no longer blame prophecies or powers or fate. It’s just you. I have chosen you, because I cannot imagine ever wanting anyone else, ever again. You possess me, obsess me; you’re everywhere inside me and I cannot get rid of you. And worst of all, I don’t wish to.”
I was breathless, staring up at him. “For a declaration of love, that leaves a lot to be desired.”
“I don’t love you. I won’t love you,” he said, and his gently moving fingers found the center of my pleasure, and I jerked, sliding down on the bed. “But by the time I’m done with you, you won’t notice the difference.”
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