The Darkest Angel
Page 3“Yes.” No hesitation. As if his heritage wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
Poor guy, she thought with a shudder. Clearly he had no idea the crappy hand he’d been dealt. If she had to choose between being an angel and a dog, she’d choose the dog. They, at least, were respectable.
She’d never been this close to an angel before. Seen one, yes. Or rather, seen what she’d thought was an angel but had later learned was a demon in disguise. Either way, she hadn’t liked the guy, her youngest sister’s father. He considered himself a god and everyone else beneath him.
“Did you bring me here to kill me?” she asked. Not that he’d have any luck. He would find that she was not an easy target. Many immortals had tried to finish her off over the years, but none had succeeded. Obviously.
He sighed, warm breath trekking over her cheeks. She had accidentally-on-purpose closed some of the distance between them; he smelled of the icecaps she so loved. Fresh and crisp with just a hint of earthy spice.
When he realized that only a whisper separated them, his lips, too full for a man but somehow perfect for him, pressed into a mulish line. Though she didn’t see him move, he was suddenly a few more inches away from her. Huh. Interesting. Had he increased the distance on purpose?
Curious, she stepped toward him.
He backed away.
He had. Why? Was he scared of her?
Just to be contrary, as she often was, she stepped toward him again. Again, he stepped away. So. The big, bad angel didn’t want to be within striking distance. She almost grinned.
“Well,” she prompted. “Did you?”
“No. I did not bring you here to kill you.” His voice was rich, sultry, a sin all its own. And yet, there was a layer of absolute truth to it, and she suspected she would have believed anything he said. As if whatever he said was simply fated, meant to be. Unchangeable. “I want you to emulate my life. I want you to learn from me.”
“Why?” What would he do if she touched him? The tiny gossamer wings on her own back fluttered at the thought. Her T-shirt was designed especially for her kind, the material loose to keep from pinning those wings as she jolted into super-speed. “Wait. Don’t answer. Let’s make out first.” A lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Bianka,” he said, his patience clearly waning. “This is not a game. Do not make me bind you to my bed.”
“Ohh, now that I like. Sounds kinky.” She darted around him, running her fingertips over his cheek, his neck. “You’re as soft as a baby.”
He sucked in a breath, stiffened. “Bianka.”
“But better equipped.”
“Bianka!”
“You will cease that immediately!”
“Make me.” She laughed, the amused, carefree sound echoing between them.
Scowling, he reached out and latched on to her upper arm. There wasn’t time to evade him; shockingly, he was faster than she was. He jerked her in front of him, and dark, narrowed eyes stared down at her.
“There will be no touching. Do you understand?”
“Do you?” Her gaze flicked to his hand, still clutching her arm. “At the moment, you’re the one touching me.”
Like hers, his gaze fell to where they were connected. He licked his lips, and his grip tightened just the way she liked. Then he released her as if she were on fire and once again increased the distance between them.
“Do you understand?” His tone was hard and flat.
What was the problem? He should be begging to touch her. She was a desirable Harpy, damn it. Her body was a work of art and her face total perfection. But for his benefit, she said, “Yeah, I understand. That doesn’t mean I’ll obey.” Her skin tingled, craving the return of his. Bad girl. Bad, bad girl. He’s a stupid angel and therefore not an appropriate plaything.
A moment passed as he absorbed her words. “Are you not frightened of me?” His wings folded into his back, arcing over his shoulders.
“No,” she said, raising a brow and doing her best to appear unaffected. “Should I be?”
“Yes.”
Well, then, he’d have to somehow grow the fiery claws of her father’s people. That was the only thing that scared her. Having been scratched as a child, having felt the acid-burn of fire spread through her entire body, having spent days writhing in agonizing, seemingly endless pain, she would do anything to avoid such an experience again.
“Well, I’m still not. And now you’re starting to bore me.” She anchored her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. “I asked you a question but you never answered it. Why do you want me to be like you? So much so, that you brought me into heaven, of all places?”
A muscle ticked below one of his eyes. “Because I am good and you are evil.”
Another laugh escaped her. He frowned, and her laughter increased until tears were running from her eyes. When she quieted, she said, “Good job. You staved off the boredom.”His frown deepened. “I was not teasing you. I mean to keep you here forever and train you to be sinless.”
“Gods, how—oops, sorry. I mean, golly, how adorable are you? ‘I mean to keep you here forever and train you,’” she said in her best impersonation of him. There was no reason to fight about her eventual escape. She’d prove him wrong just as soon as she decided to leave. Right now, she was too intrigued. With her surroundings, she assured herself, and not the angel. Heaven was not a place she’d ever thought to visit.
“I’m sure you are. But you’ll find that you can’t keep me anywhere I don’t want to be. And me? Without sin? Funny!”
“We shall see.”
His confidence might have unnerved her had she been less confident in her own abilities. As a Harpy, she could lift a semi as if it were no more significant than a pebble, could move faster than the human eye could see and had no problem slaying an unwelcome host.
“Be honest,” she said. “You saw me and wanted a piece, right?”
For the briefest of moments, horror blanketed his face. “No,” he croaked out, then cleared his throat and said more smoothly, “No.”
Insulting bastard. Why such horror at the thought of being with her? She was the one who should be horrified. He was clearly a do-gooder, more so than she’d realized. I am good and you are evil, he’d said. Ugh.
“So tell me again why you want to change me. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you shouldn’t mess with perfection?”
That muscle started ticking below his eye again. “You are a menace.”
“Whatever, dude.” She liked to steal—so what. She could kill without blinking—again, so what. It wasn’t like she worked for the IRS or anything. “Where’s my sister, Kaia? She’s as much a menace as I am, I’m sure. So why don’t you want to change her?”
“She is still in Alaska, wondering if you are buried inside an ice cave. And you are my only project at the moment.”
Project? Bastard. But she did like the thought of Kaia searching high and low but finding no sign of her, almost like they were playing a game of Hide and Seek. Bianka would totally, finally win.
“You appear…excited,” he said, head tilting to the side. “Why? Does her concern not disturb you?”
Yep. A certified do-gooder. “It’s not like I’ll be here long.” She peeked over his shoulder; more of that wisping white greeted her. “Got anything to drink here?”
“No.”
“Eat?”
“No.”
“Wear?”
Slowly the corners of her lips lifted. “I guess that means you like to go naked. Awesome.”
His cheeks reddened. “Enough. You are trying to bait me and I do not like it.”
“Then you shouldn’t have brought me here.” Hey, wait a minute. He’d never really told her why he’d chosen her as his project, she realized. “Be honest. Do you need my help with something?” After all, she, like many of her fellow Harpies, was a mercenary, paid to find and retrieve. Her motto: if it’s unethical and illegal and you’ve got the cash, I’m your girl! “I mean, I know you didn’t just bring me here to save the world from my naughty influence. Otherwise, millions of other people would be here with me.”
He crossed his arms over his massive chest.
She sighed. Knowing men as she did, she knew he was done answering that type of question. Oh, well. She could have convinced him otherwise by annoying him until he caved, but she didn’t want to put the work in.
“So what do you do for fun around here?” she asked.
“I destroy demons.”
Like you, she finished for him. But he’d already said he had no intention of killing her, and she believed him—how could she not? That voice…“So you don’t want to hurt me, you don’t want to touch me, but you do want me to live here forever.”
“Yes.”
“I’d be an idiot to refuse such an offer.” That she sounded sincere was a miracle. “We’ll pretend to be married and spend the nights locked in each other’s arms, kissing and touching, our bodies—”
“Stop. Just stop.” And, drumroll please, that muscle began ticking under his eye again.
This time, there was no fighting her grin. It spread wide and proud. That tic was a sign of anger, surely. But what would it take to make that anger actually seep into his irises? What would it take to break even a fraction of his iron control?
“Show me around,” she said. “If I’m going to live here, I need to know where my walk-in closet is.” During the tour, she could accidentally-on-purpose brush against him. Over and over again. “Do we have cable?”
“No. And I cannot give you a tour. I have duties. Important duties.” 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">