Demon Kissed (Cursed Angel Collection)

by Michelle Madow

  My lips part as I remember how close to death I was this afternoon. But I hadn’t realized until now how much it truly meant that Elizabeth and I are still alive. I still don’t entirely understand what he means.

  So I do what he previously invited me to do—I ask.

  “What exactly is this ‘darkness?’” I start. “You speak of it like it’s an entity in itself. Like it’s something you can fight.”

  He walks over to the sofa and takes a seat, motioning to the space next to him. I take it, making sure to leave a few inches between us. The side of my body closest to him buzzes with electricity, and it takes all of my self-control not to move closer and close the gap between us.

  He swirls his tequila and takes a slow sip. “What do you know about demons?” he finally asks.

  “Not much,” I lie, since I doubt Adriana knew a lot about them. “Beyond the fact that you’re a demon and rule our continent, of course.”

  “Of course.” He nods. “Did you know that demons aren’t created this way? That we all started as fallen angels?”

  “No.” I shake my head—another lie. “What happened that caused you to fall?”

  “That’s a story for another day,” he says, which only piques my curiosity further. But I don’t push him, not wanting to lose this chance of getting information from him. “But after we fall, God abandons us, and darkness fills our soul. Some say this darkness is a piece of the devil himself. The darkness thrives on hate and anger, and it feeds on death. Whenever something angers me—no matter how small that something is—the darkness grows in strength. It builds inside my soul, taking over to do what it needs to survive—to kill.”

  I sip my champagne, absorbing everything he just told me. Because even though I’m an angel, there are some things that even angels don’t know. What he’s telling me now is one of those things.

  “Are you saying that all of those people you killed… it wasn’t actually you who killed them?” I ask. “It was this ‘darkness?’”

  “It depends on how you look at it,” he says. “The darkness lives inside me—it’s part of me. Most believe that makes us the same.”

  “But you fought it today,” I remind him. “So you’re not the same.”

  “I’d like to think so,” he says. “But you have to understand—that was the only time I’ve ever successfully fought the darkness. I tried after I first fell—believe me, I tried—but it didn’t work. Fighting it was impossible, so I gave in. Why fight the inevitable?”

  “To keep innocent people alive.” I level my gaze with his. “To not be a killer.”

  “It’s not as easy as you think,” he says.

  “You did it today.”

  “Because you asked.” His eyes stay on mine, the electricity between us buzzing stronger and stronger. “I did it for you.”

  “What makes me so special?” I ask.

  “You remind me of someone I knew,” he says simply. “Someone I knew before I became what I am today.”

  “Someone you knew when you were still an angel,” I realize. “This someone… did you love her?”

  “Like I said, that’s another story for another day.” He leans back, and disappointment fills my chest. Because I want to know everything about Ezekiel—yet I feel like I’m only grazing the surface of the churning depths within his soul. “But you—ever since I first saw you, you’ve made me want to be the man I used to be,” he says. “A man capable of love.”

  His words remind me of what he said this morning on the balcony, and I place my champagne flute down on the end table, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Did you mean what you said earlier?” I ask. “When those girls said they loved me, and you said you did, too?”

  “Do you want me to mean it?” he asks.

  “What I want is irrelevant,” I say.

  “That’s where you’re so, so wrong.” He leans forward, and I do the same, until our faces are nearly touching. “What you want is everything.”

  Suddenly, his mouth is on mine, and I part my lips for his, heat flooding my body as his tongue brushes my own. I didn’t realize how much I’d been wanting this—how much I’d been needing this—until right now.

  He pulls me closer, and then I’m in his arms, and he’s carrying me to the bed, kissing me the entire way there. He lays me down gently and deepens the kiss again, his body on top of mine, igniting a longing deep down inside that I didn’t know I could have until this very moment. My body takes on a mind of its own and arches up to him, filling every crevice between us.

  “Adriana,” he groans, staring down at me with so much intensity that I have to remind myself to breathe. “Do you love me even half as much as I love you?”

  “More than that.” I pull him back down to me, needing to kiss him again. “So much more.”

  “How much?” he asks. “Tell me how much.”

  “Completely,” I say, and then we’re kissing again, losing ourselves in each other’s touch.

  His hands explore my body, and then they’re on the band of my leggings, coaxing them down. “I want you,” he says, and he guides my hand to the space between his legs so I can feel the hardness under his jeans. “All of you.”

  At the realization of what he means—of what he’s ready to do—I can’t help but think of Maria.

  Of the bruises all over her body.

  Is he going to do to me whatever he did to her?

  “Wait.” I pull away from him, breathing slowly to steady my spinning thoughts.

  “What?” he asks. “Don’t you want me too?”

  “I do,” I say. “Of course I do. But…” I pause, searching for a reason he’ll understand. I can’t risk angering him now—not when we’ve gotten this far.

  He was able to fight the darkness once, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be able to do it again.

  “But what?” he asks.

  “I’m a virgin,” I rush out, feeling my cheeks redden. “I love you—I truly do, and I hope you never doubt that—but this is all moving so fast. Too fast.”

  He stills at my words, and his eyes go distant. “Just like Julia,” he says with a sigh, rolling over so his body no longer hovers on top of mine.

  I feel cold at the loss of his touch, but I resist the urge to pull him close again, not wanting to tempt him more than I already have. “You’ve said that name twice around me now,” I say instead. “Who’s Julia?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He blinks, as if trying to get rid of a memory, and sits up in the bed. “But I swear to you, Adriana—I love you, and I want you—all of you. But only when you’re one hundred percent ready.”

  “You mean that?” I ask.

  “Of course I mean it,” he says, and once again, he’s proven himself to be completely different than I ever expected.

  I can only think of one possible explanation—he loves me. He truly loves me.

  I clutch my hands to my chest, terror filling my heart as I realize that I love him as well.

  Because if I love him… how can I ever bring myself to kill him?

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  I stay in my room the next day under the pretense of being sick. It’s not a lie—the anxiety I feel truly is making me sick to my stomach.

  If I don’t kill Zeke, I’m condemning everyone on this continent to being cursed—and I’m condemning myself to being cast from Heaven. I’ll become the same as Zeke—a demon. The darkness he spoke of will fill my soul and turn me into a murderer.

  But if I kill him…

  I wrap my hands around my stomach again, sick from the thought. I can’t kill him.

  I can’t even pray for guidance. Because if God hears my treasonous thoughts, he’ll surely cast me from Heaven on the spot.

  I’ve never felt so lost and afraid in all the centuries of my existence. Now I finally understand why humans go to such extremes for love. Because love—true, all-consuming love—has the power to make people act in ways they never believed possible.

  I toss and turn again that night
, unable to sleep. I finally manage to drift off as the first rays of sunlight stream through the blinds, when I’m suddenly awoken by a knock on my door.

  I groan and roll over in bed, pulling the pillow around my ears to muffle the sound. But the knocking starts again—harder and more persistent this time.

  “Hold on!” I call out, rolling out of bed. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I freshen up as quickly as possible, relieved when I glance through the peephole and see that it isn’t Zeke who wants to see me—it’s Teresa.

  I open the door, closing it quickly after she enters. The moment it’s shut, she mutters a spell under her breath.

  “A sound-barrier spell,” she explains. “So no one can listen in on our conversation.”

  I nod, glad she had the sense to cast it. The Watchtower has eyes and ears everywhere—I suspect even in our suites.

  “You look like crap,” she observes, giving me a once over. “Didn’t Gloria warn you to always look your best?”

  “A lot has happened recently.” I run a hand through my hair, struggling to get my fingers through the tangles. But fixing it’s futile, so I give up and drop my hand down to my side.

  “No shit.” Teresa crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “What the hell were you thinking yesterday? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Were you trying to get my sister killed?”

  I sigh—I should have known that’s why Teresa’s here.

  However, given how insane my actions were yesterday, I can’t blame her for being angry.

  “He was going to kill Elizabeth,” I say. “I had to stop him.”

  “No.” She shakes her head and steps toward me, flinging her arms down to her sides. “What you have to do is find the Flaming Sword and kill him. You can’t do that if you’re dead!” She screams the last part, and I hang my head, knowing she’s right. What I did went against everything Gloria taught me to survive here.

  But I saved Elizabeth’s life. That must count for something.

  “Well, I’m not dead,” I say. “And neither is Elizabeth.”

  “I don’t care about Elizabeth,” Teresa snaps. “And I don’t care about Alicia, Maria, or any of the other concubines. All I care about is that you keep my sister alive and kill Ezekiel. Got it?”

  “About that…” I say, knowing she’s going to hate what I have to tell her next. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  “What?” She stares at me, completely still, her voice full of ice. “You mean you don’t think you can find the Flaming Sword?”

  “No,” I say. “Well, I don’t know if I can find the Flaming Sword. But that’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?” She stares me down, as if she’s daring me to say it.

  “I don’t think I can kill Ezekiel,” I say quickly. “No—scratch that. I know I can’t kill Ezekiel.”

  “And why do you think that?”

  I glance down at my feet, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Because I love him.”

  “What?” She leans forward and cups a hand around her ear. “Say it again? Because I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  I lift my head up, holding my gaze with hers. “I can’t kill Ezekiel because I’m in love with him.” I speak stronger this time, continuing before she has a chance to reply. “You have to understand—he’s not the one killing all these people. He doesn’t want to kill anyone. It’s the darkness. But he fought it for the first time yesterday, and I know he can fight it again. He will fight it again. Because he loves me, too.”

  Teresa laughs, although it’s dark and hollow. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says. “The curse is affecting you more than I realized.”

  “I’m not kidding,” I say. “It’s the truth.”

  From there, I explain everything Ezekiel told me about the darkness that takes over his soul and makes him do such terrible things. I feel awful telling his secrets to Teresa—since he told me in confidence—but she has to know. It’s the only way she might understand.

  “None of this changes anything,” she says once I’m done. “You were sent here to end the curse, and the only way to end the curse is to kill Ezekiel. You might think he and this ‘darkness’ are separate from each other, but that’s not true. The darkness is a part of him. The only way to get rid of it is to kill him.”

  “We don’t know that,” I say. “What if there’s another way?”

  “There is no other way!” She throws her hands up and groans. “Wouldn’t Uriel—or God—have told you if there were?”

  “Yes,” I say, since she’s right—God is good, and he wouldn’t keep something so important from me. That’s something I would never question, no matter what. “But you don’t know Ezekiel the way I do. There is good in him. He doesn’t deserve to die because of what the darkness forces him to do.”

  Teresa sighs, sits down on the couch, and buries her face in her hands. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I don’t dare interrupt her.

  For all I know, she’ll lash out and try to exorcise me again—even if it means possibly damaging Adriana’s body by doing so.

  “Okay.” She lowers her hands and focuses on me again, her eyes calmer now. “No killing has to be done yet. I’ll ask some of the older witches if they know anything about this ‘darkness’—maybe there’s a way to destroy that part of him while still keeping him alive.”

  Hope surges through my chest. “You think there might be?” I ask.

  “If there is, I’ll find out,” she says. “But for now, let’s focus on the first part of your task—finding the Flaming Sword. Because if there’s a way to destroy the darkness without killing Ezekiel, I bet that sword is a part of it.”

  “Why would you bet that?” I ask.

  “Because he used the sword to cast the curse,” she explains. “The sword is full of old, powerful magic. It will surely be necessary to break such a strong spell. So, have you gotten any closer to figuring out where it might be?”

  “No,” I say. “Last night, Ezekiel invited me to his suite for the first time. I thought he might keep it there, but I didn’t see it anywhere.”

  She raises an eyebrow when I say he invited me to his suite, and my cheeks flush, but she doesn’t comment any further on the matter. I’m glad—even though Ezekiel and I didn’t sleep together, the night we shared felt intimate and sacred. I don’t want to share the details of it with anyone.

  I want those memories to be his and mine alone.

  “All right,” she says. “Let’s move forward. Because luckily for you, I didn’t come here just to yell at you.”

  “Really?” I ask. “Because it sure feels like it.”

  “Really.” She reaches into her bag, bringing out a vial of shimmering silver potion. “I came here to bring you this.”

  Chapter Fifty

  “The truth potion?” I guess. “You were able to successfully make it?”

  “Of course I was.” She smirks and flips her hair over her shoulder. “I meant it when I told you this potion is one of the hardest to brew. But I’m one of the strongest witches in the city, so I could handle it.”

  I scrutinize the bottle. “I need to slip that into one of Zeke’s drinks?” I ask. Because Zeke’s fast, and he notices everything. How am I supposed to do this and remain unnoticed?

  “Nope.” Teresa holds the vial higher, admiring it. “This potion is much sleeker than that. That’s why it’s so much more difficult to make than a run-of-the-mill truth potion.”

  “How does it work?” I bounce my legs, wishing she would stop complimenting her own skills and get to the point.

  “You drink the potion,” she tells me. “Then for a few hours—nine hours, to be exact—anyone who gets into close contact with you will be compelled to truthfully answer every question you ask them.”

  “I just drink it, and that’s it?” I can hear the skepticism in my voice. Her plan sounds simple—almost too simple.

  “Yep.” Teresa nods. “It’ll work on anyone
—including those with magic. And the closer bond someone already shares with you emotionally, the stronger the effect of the potion will be on them. Which means—”

  “It’ll definitely work on Zeke,” I say.

  “If he cares about you as much as you believe he does.” She shoots me a knowing smile that gives me the feeling she doesn’t believe he could truly care about anyone except for himself. “Then yes—it’ll affect him stronger than it would have otherwise.”

  “And afterward?” I ask. “Will he have any idea he was under a spell?”

  “Nope,” she says. “He’ll believe he told you everything willingly. Sure, he might look back and wish he hadn’t said anything at all, but he’ll blame his actions on an impulsive decision, and nothing more.”

  I nod, the possibilities of what I can ask him racing through my mind. Because of course I’ll ask about the Flaming Sword. That’s a no brainer.

  But personally, I’m more interested in finding out if Zeke has been honest with me about his feelings, or if he’s been lying to me this entire time.

  Now I can finally find out the truth once and for all.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  I wait until after dinner to take the potion, since taking it before dinner could result in drama between the other concubines that I have no interest in dealing with. Plus, I don’t think it’s fair to force people to tell the truth against their will.

  I don’t feel good about using the potion on Zeke either—despite my initial thought that it’ll be encouraging to know if he’s being honest about his feelings for me. But Teresa worked so hard on this potion. And even though I know I won’t be able to kill Zeke, the least I can do is retrieve the Flaming Sword for Uriel. It won’t make up for being unable to complete my mission, but at least it’ll be something.

  And so, once I return to my room, I freshen up and remove the potion from my bag. I swirl the liquid, and it shimmers under the light—magical and mystical.