Revenant

That big asshole fallen angel is here to see you. And then, Is he single?

“What do I want?” He shrugged. “I want you.”

She groaned even as her body sparked to life. Her False Angel enchantment might be wearing off, but the False Angel sex drive was as fully engaged as ever. Funny how she was losing the other FA powers, but she was still horny as hell, and self-gratification was becoming less and less satisfying.

“Not this again.” What was his fascination with her, anyway? Shoving him aside, she started down the hall. “I said no.”

He caught up with her, matching her gait as he walked beside her. “Let me put it another way. I have a medical case for you.”

Halting, she eyed him suspiciously. Damn, he was tall. He put her five feet eleven inches to shame. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about a female fallen angel. She’s pregnant, and she could use a checkup.”

She snorted. “You knock her up?”

He recoiled so fast she considered grabbing a cervical collar in case he’d given himself whiplash. “The very idea is repulsive.”

“What, the idea of being a father or screwing a fallen angel?”

“I have no problem screwing angels of any kind,” he said, his voice a low purr, and she knew he was hinting at the fact that she was, at least to outside eyes, a False Angel. “But this particular one has been… damaged.”

“Is that why she needs medical help?”

“It’s why she needs psychological help, but no.” He waited for a male nurse pushing a cart of supplies to go past before saying, “She needs a medical doctor because her pregnancy isn’t exactly routine.” He cocked his head, his thick mane of blue-black hair brushing his shoulders. “May I touch you?”

Whoa. Talk about whiplash. Before she could protest, he reached out, brushing a knuckle over her cheek. Every nerve ending in her body sizzled with awareness. How did he do that so easily?

She stepped away, awkwardly enough that he had to know he’d affected her. “Why did you do that?”

“I’ve been told I have no impulse control or sense of social boundaries.” He casually rolled one big shoulder. “At least I asked first.”

“Gee, give the guy a medal.” Gods, she loved the way he smelled, like musk and leather and a sinful hint of brimstone. “Tell your fallen angel friend to come by. We’re open twenty-four seven.” Her fingers cramped, and she realized she’d been holding her pager in a death grip. Tucking it back into her pocket, she gave him a see-ya smile. “I have work. Thanks for stopping by.”

She started for the front office, but he snared her arm and swung her back around. “She can’t come here. I need to take you to her.”

“Sorry,” she said, jerking out of his grip, “but I don’t make house calls. I can recommend someone who does —”

“I need you.”

Okay, now she was nearing the end of her patience. “Did you hear what I just said? I don’t make house calls. No exceptions.”

“You will make an exception for this patient.”

Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him, dumbfounded. Who did he think he was to come barging into her place of work and demand she drop everything just because he said to? “I will do no such thing.”

“I would consider this a personal favor. Which means I would owe you.”

Hmm. Now that was something to think about. She didn’t want to be indebted to anyone, let alone a fallen angel like Revenant, but to have him owe her… that was worth considering. She didn’t know much about him, but she did know he was the evil Watcher for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, which meant he was a fallen angel of high standing – and power. And with the craziness that was going on with her mother right now, Blas never knew when she’d need a favor.

“Why me?” she asked.

“Because I want you,” he said simply. “And you want me.”

Good Lord, he was delusional. “I don’t want you.”

He smiled tightly. “You will.”

“You know,” she sighed, “the more you say shit like that, the less likely it is that I would ever want you.”

“You don’t appreciate confidence?”

“I don’t appreciate arrogance. There’s a difference.”

“And what is the difference?”

“Confidence is arrogance without an asshole.”

He laughed, and holy hell, he was stunning when he did that. “Sounds uncomfortable. I’ll keep my arrogance, thank you very much.”

Jamming her hands on her hips, she glared. “You still haven’t said why you want me to treat your friend.”

“She’s not my friend. And it has to be you because you’re the only doctor I know.”

“If knowing a doctor was the only criteria people used for choosing one, very few people would get medical care.”

He bared his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about other people. I’m choosing you because I don’t know anyone else.”

He barely knew her. But she sensed… she wasn’t sure. Maybe he was one of those people who bonded quickly with others. Or maybe he didn’t trust easily, and she’d given him enough straightforward attitude that he thought he could put some confidence in her abilities. The latter sounded most likely.

And why was she diagnosing his mental instability, anyway? She was done arguing with him. But… something he’d said intrigued her. “Did you say the patient is a fallen angel? Is the child’s father a fallen angel as well?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">