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Wicked Nights

Page 27

   



“A robe cleans its wearer from the inside out. Right now you are cleaner than you have ever been.”
“Oh. That’s cool.” And that response was lame. She had to pull herself together. “I mean, I noticed its cleaning ability when you were injured.” I just didn’t put two and two together.
“Perhaps you should change into your new clothes.”
“I think I will.” Just not the way he probably thought.
He’d set the bags at the entrance. She dug through each one until she found what she wanted. Then, the same way she had stripped out of her leather, with the robe shielding her, she now dressed.
“Unfair,” she thought she heard Zacharel mutter.
Only when her new bra and panties, T-shirt, jeans and boots were in place—and she had successfully cut through the pockets for easy access to the blades still strapped to her legs—did she finally remove the robe.
Zacharel’s gaze roved over her from top to bottom—then back up again. “I approve. And now you will eat.” He carried a plate to the small wooden table, sat down and motioned for her to join him.
“And we will talk,” she said.
“Of course.”
She’d meant to continue their bargaining, but he began to grill her for information—and she couldn’t help but grill him right back. Why a cave? Why the sex toys? The answer to the first: because. The answer to the second: because.
So informative, her angel.
She shifted uncomfortably. Neither of their chairs possessed a back, and while she felt like she would fall backward every time she moved, he was perfectly at ease, the lack of slats allowing him to comfortably position his wings.
“The demon that killed your parents,” he said, motioning for her to take another bite out of the most delicious sandwich she’d ever eaten. Soft, moist and bursting with sweet and spicy flavors. “What did he look like?”
“What if I said ugly, and left it at that?” Two could play the reticent game.
“I would press.”
“Thought so.” She chewed, swallowed, trying not to picture the beast that had haunted her nightmares all these years. With only the slightest quaver in her tone, she described the red eyes, the humanoid face and the vampire fangs. The smooth, crimson skin, the horns that protruded from his spine. The tail that had curled into a metal spike.
All the while Zacharel frowned. See? His default expression.
“That could be any number of demons, but definitely not the one who dictated which demons could and could not enter your institution. Still, we will find Burden, talk to him.”
Burden. What a terrible name. “He’ll be honest with you?”
“With a little persuasion, perhaps. But sometimes you can discern the truth by breaking apart the lie.”
“As long as you’re sure. And just so you know, I can handle danger. Don’t even think about leaving me behind.”
His eyes narrowed, though that failed to hide the green flames sparking to shattering life. “I could absolutely leave you behind, Annabelle, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me.”
“I could hate you,” she seethed. “Well, not hate you, since I now refuse to hate anyone, but I could be very angry with you!”
“And you think that would bother me?” Such a calmly uttered question, as if he didn’t care about the answer.
But he did care, and there was no hiding that fact. Not any longer. He wanted her body, had tried to demand it as payment, and when she’d said no, he’d decided to settle for her kisses.
I don’t have to be nervous about our bargain, she realized, startled, awed. Happy. He was so desperate to have her, he would take anything he could get. Even scraps.
“A little tip for you, Winged Wonder. Don’t threaten the woman you want to seduce.” See Annabelle take control.
He reached out, gently brushed his fingertip along her collarbone. “If it means saving your life, I’ll do more than threaten you. I’ll follow through. Best you realize that now, rather than crying foul later.”
The touch, slight though it had been and even blocked by cotton, electrified her. See Zacharel take control away from her. “I want a man to be my equal, not my boss.”
He flashed his teeth at her, his arm falling heavily to his side. “I will never be your equal. I will always be stronger, faster.”
Better?
Yes, there was that, wasn’t there, she thought, that shot of confidence fizzling completely. The sandwich seemed to compact inside her stomach, becoming a lead ball. “I’m not sure why you’d even want to kiss me. You make me sound like a real prize. Maybe we should just forget our bargain altogether.”
He slammed a fist into the table’s surface. “The bargain remains intact.”
The atypical outburst astounded her, causing her eyes to widen. Must have astounded him, too, because the moment he realized just how much force he’d used, he licked his lips and added smoothly, “Otherwise, I would be allowed to desert you at any moment, would I not? And you do not want that, do you, Annabelle?”
No, because he would be able to return to the heavens. And that was the only reason she decided to capitulate. Really. “Fine. The bargain remains intact. But the more you talk, the more I dislike you. You know that, right?”
“It shall be my pleasure to remedy it. First, it is not your strength or your speed that draws me. It’s your…everything. Your laugh, your wit, your emotions and the way they change. Your courage, your sweetness, your near obsessive delight for cookies. Second, you are indeed a prize. You’ve made me want what no one else ever has. A communion of bodies.”
Uh, never again would she tell this man he had no idea how to seduce a woman. His words affected her, deeply and inexorably. A communion of bodies. His. Hers. Theirs, as one. Just the thought caused goose bumps to break out over her skin. And there was no more nervousness. None at all. He’d just reminded her that the act was meant to be special, not shameful, between two people meant to be together.
Meant to be? You and Zacharel?
He flattened his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Third. The blond angel, Thane, the one you claimed to like better than me. This is his cave, and those are his tools.” With a tilt of his head, he motioned to the rack that so reminded her of her hospital gurney. “Know that he will use them on you if you turn to him. You will not turn to him.”
Okay, that had sounded like jealousy. And the change in him, from distant and threatening to possessive and needy, was as startling as his fist to the table. She reeled, empowered all the more.
“You are right,” he said, before she could reply. “Talking is doing us no good. Eat.”
Well, darn. Every time she thought she’d gained the upper hand, he had to go and ruin it. “Yes, Daddy,” she grumbled, and popped another piece of bread in her mouth.
That earned her a fiery glare.
As she finished off the food, she watched Zacharel through slitted lids, trying not to be obvious in her study of him. Despite his change in mood, he could have stepped from a painting, so striking was his visage. Would she ever get used to the beauty of him?
After all, his hair would always be black, his skin unwrinkled. He would never change. He would always look this way, while she would age. Ugh. She would age, wouldn’t she?
The only thing different about him was his wings. They were now mostly gold with specks of white threaded through the feathers. If he was right, and he was evolving into one of the Elite, whatever that meant, he was evolving quickly.
“Just so you know,” she said when she realized the silence had grown just as tense as their words. “I do not desire Thane.”
He nodded, satisfied.
“So how long will we stay here?”
“No more than four days. I need to know if demons can sense you when you’re underground. The answer will dictate our next course of action.”
Plenty of time for him to teach her a little about fighting demons. Of course, that lesson would involve physical contact, and physical contact would probably cause her hormones to go wild. She would want to kiss him, which meant, according to their bargain—which he hadn’t let her terminate—she would have to kiss him.
Would she find the courage?
Stupid question, plaguing her.
What if she sucked—the bad kind of sucking? What if she turned him off kissing forever? What if she freaked out? Or, what if she liked it? What if she wanted more? What if he refused to give her more? What if he rebuked her as he’d done to that other female? That beautiful angel with the dark, curling hair? Despite the fact that he claimed to desire Annabelle.
Or, what if he wanted more than a kiss but Annabelle refused to give him more? Would he then decide she wasn’t worth the effort and dump her somewhere?
No, she thought next. He wasn’t a slime. He might be cold and callous, but he wasn’t a liar, either. He had agreed to stay with her for a month, and so he would…no matter what. Would he regret that promise, though? Or would he be glad for it?
Only one way to learn the answers to all your questions…
Added bonus: the first time would be over, done, and the nervousness would leave her once and for all.
Well, that settled it.
“Zacharel,” she said on a wispy catch of breath.
His gaze drilled into her very soul. “What are you thinking about, Annabelle?” Huskily asked, a caress to each of her senses.
Like him, she couldn’t lie. Not this time, the truth already proven by the softening of her lips. “Kissing you.”
His gaze immediately dropped to her lips, his pupils gobbling up his irises. “Why?”
Because you think I’m a prize. Because, when you look at me, I feel cherished rather than leered at. “I believe you’ll be familiar with my answer—because.”
Slowly the corners of his mouth curled up. “So what are you waiting for? You know what you must do.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ZACHAREL WAITED, TENSE, as Annabelle slowly stood and closed the distance between them. He tensed further when she at last positioned herself between his legs. Part of him screamed to stop her, to stop this. After the first tasting, there would be no going back. He would know, the knowledge a part of him. The rest of him screamed for more. For all.