He approached her, holding out his hand in offering. Surprisingly lacking in concern, she nodded and he placed it above her eye, not touching the flesh. The intense wave of her body heat pulsed against his palm. Mortal warmth. Another experience he had forgotten. An experience he’d had tortured out of him. Now he used that connection and focused his own inner healing salve to emanate outward. Within moments the cut healed.
She smoothed a finger over her brow. “Wow. You actually did it. And when you took the blade from me, and it flew through the air … You have powers. What are you?”
As new as the world was to him, he did know to keep some things to his chest. “If it is important to label me, then you may call me angel slayer.”
She lifted a beautifully arched brow. Ashur turned toward the view again. He should not waste time admiring her beauty.
“A slayer. Of angels?” She exhaled, and her breath touched Ashur’s black heart. He suppressed a shiver. “That’s sort of sad.”
He tilted a curious look to her. No, her breath hadn’t touched his heart. That organ was hard and black and impervious to everything.
“I mean, well, first reaction is it’s sad,” she said, unaware of his struggles. “But like I said, I know about angels. They’re not all fluffy and full of grace. The fallen ones are downright evil. I suppose someone has to take care of the bad ones.”
“The Fallen are lacking in grace and compassion. It’s dangerous to have a soulless angel walking the earth,” he said. “They have little concern for their actions, and are focused only on finding their muse. I am surprised you say you wish to speak to one.”
“That might have been my excitement talking. He really wants to find me? What for?”
“Now that the Fallen one has been conjured, it resumes its original intention upon falling. I am not familiar with how many millennia have passed since the original fall. Then, two hundred angels fell to earth to mate with human females.”
“I’m familiar with that story.”
“It seeks its muse.”
“That’s the part I’m not familiar with.”
“Once the Fallen finds his muse, he will mate with her in hopes of creating a nephilim. They are carnivorous, blood-hungry giants. It’s the beginning to a plague of dark divinity. You, Six, are to give birth to the end of the world as you know it.”
“Is that all?” She forced a chuckle, but he sensed it was just that: a constructed means to temper the shock. He was quickly learning her emotions. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d spent so much time with her already, or if he were taking on the world’s feelings.
“Have an angel’s baby?” Six’s eyelids fluttered. “I, uh, I think I need to sit down.”
Halfway to the plush, cushioned chair placed before a marble hearth, she wobbled. Ashur crossed the room and caught her as she fainted.
Standing with her fey weight draping his arms, he again felt the tap at his black heart. It was more than a squeeze. This time it felt as though the hardened muscle actually pulsed.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. Had to be the souls trapped within his heart. On occasion they made their presence known to him.
He should ditch the muse and seek the Fallen one. Thing was, keeping her close to him was the best way to lure Zaqiel to him. But no Fallen would approach a Sinistari willingly.
How to bait this trap?
Chapter 4
Eden came to with a start. She sat up on a delicately crocheted bedspread. Her bed. The iron lamp curved to resemble a lotus flower on the nightstand glowed over her stack of artist’s color charts. “How’d I get here? Who—?”
Reality rushed upon her like a tsunami wave and she toppled against the pillow, but this time she didn’t faint—because a man stood in her bedroom doorway. Tall, dark and confused, he was the most appealing thing she’d seen in months.
“You fainted,” he offered.
“No kidding? Whew!” Eden sat up and smoothed down her shirt. “It’s been a day, hasn’t it? “ She glanced toward the floor-to-ceiling window, which looked out over Central Park. It was dark, yet the city’s innate glow beamed upward. The clock verified it was almost eleven. “How long have I been out?”
“A few hours. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“That was kind of you. After what I’ve been through—”
“It gave me time to walk the layout of your home.”
“Oh. So it wasn’t concern. You needed to case the joint. Find anything you want?”
“I have no intent to steal from you, my lady. Though I did find this in a kitchen drawer.” He waved a small stack of one-hundred-dollar bills before him. “I may need some cash while I’m here on earth. Mind if I take it?”
“You just said you don’t steal.”
“I’m asking. Thieves do not ask.”
“Yes, whatever. Take it if you need it. It’s the petty cash I leave for my maid, Rosalie, to pick up things. I’ll replenish it tomorrow.”
Eden reached to scratch her forearm and Ashur dove onto the bed, grabbing her hand and trapping it against his chest. His body so close to hers had her heartbeat tripping. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been more frightened by a stranger’s presence—and more intrigued.
Looking away, he released her arm and slid off the bed. “Don’t scratch,” he said. “Not until I give you the go-ahead. Forgive me, my impropriety overwhelms the need for your protection.”
“I understand.” Actually she didn’t understand a thing. Exhaustion had tapped her neurons to the core.
Shoving her forearm between her thighs didn’t quell the need to scratch. “I think I’ll take a shower. I feel like crap after today’s adventure. Maybe the water will relieve the itch. Is that okay? You’re not going to stand guard outside the bathroom, are you?”
“I dare not. I will wait for you out in the main quarters.”
“That would be the living room.”
“Appropriately named. Please come find me when you feel ready. We have much to discuss.”
Soon as the door closed, Eden stripped off her blouse and skirt and made a beeline for the bathroom. The glass-walled shower was her favorite place to escape the real world. Sound was muffled in here and the only sensation was the pressure of water upon her skin.
She always headed straight to the shower after a day spent at a charity event or amongst a crowd. Most people thought she had it all being rich. She wouldn’t knock it, but having it all did not imply material wealth to her. All was something ineffable that could only fit into her heart.
The hot water rinsed away the dirt and shivers but it didn’t chase away the subtle tingling where the angel had licked her.
“An angelkiss,” Eden muttered as she dried herself off with a thick terry-cloth towel, being careful to avoid the mark. “And he’s after me because he wants to get busy with me? I don’t want to have sex with a bad angel and become the mother of the apocalypse.”
Resting her palms on the marble vanity, she took a couple of deep yoga breaths to settle her growing tension. Water from her hair dripped down her arms and puddled on the floor. Her reflection echoed how tired she was. Rarely did she get shadows under her eyes like tonight.
But it was more than that.
If Ashur had told her the truth, she was in deep trouble. How did she dare escape an angel? Zaqiel possessed supernatural abilities, as she’d already seen. She was no match. And her only choice was to trust the man who called himself an angel slayer. What was that exactly? Was he human?
Had she garnered her own personal guardian angel?
“I hope so.” Because she didn’t want the white-haired guy getting close enough to lick her again. And if he had his way, he’d get close enough to have sex with her.
