He held a tray in his hands, and what looked like clothes, over one arm. She took both from him. “Thank you.”
He smiled and nodded and appeared almost human again.
“I’m Damon,” he said. “Just call if you need me.”
She watched as he turned around, opened the double doors behind him, and launched into the air.
“Thanks, Damon,” she murmured to the empty space. She carried the tray inside, put the clothes over the chair—she’d examine them later—poured a coffee, added cream and sugar, and wandered back outside the room and to the doors opposite. As she pushed, they opened easily, leading out onto a balcony that ran around the outside of the tower. There was no railing—all the better for taking off from—and she peered gingerly over the edge. Far below, was the courtyard. She wandered the whole way around and sank down to sit cross-legged, her back against the wall. Beyond the courtyard, she could see for miles. A flat plain surrounded the castle and beyond that, a circle of mountains so they were at the center of a valley. The air was neither hot nor cold and clear, so despite the twilight she could see for miles.
It was actually quite beautiful.
Faith sipped her coffee and a sense of peace flowed over her. She’d been trying not to think about the future, or the past for that matter, until she was alone and could consider what she’d learned without distractions. Now, she allowed her mind to replay all that she had discovered.
And all that she now accepted. When Christian had opened her mind, it was as though a key had unlocked a door deep inside her. It was hard to believe that since that long ago night, her thoughts and beliefs had been implanted in her head by the bastard who had killed her mother.
At the start of all this, she’d thought that if only she could solve Julie’s murder then she’d be able to accept that her time was done. Well, she hadn’t solved the case but the killer was dead.
It was over.
Not only that, but she had learned the truth behind her mother’s death and that the killer had also been dealt with. It was odd, but she trusted they’d told her the truth. Maybe it was because she knew they could do that mind-whammy thing and once again, she’d know nothing.
She didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t want to forget. Perhaps she could stay here until the end. And if she did that, they wouldn’t have to make her forget. Spend her last days in hell. Sounded like a plan.
Would Ash want her to stay? Maybe she’d better start thinking of him as “My Lord Asmodai.” He’d said he wanted her, and he hadn’t yet had her. She had a flashback to the feel of his mouth on her skin, between her thighs, inside her, and a tremor of remembered pleasure shivered through her body.
She wanted him to make love to her. Desperately. More than she had ever wanted anything in her life before.
Was he still up there fighting the angels? What if he killed them? Was there some sort of penance for killing an angel? Perhaps you got sent to hell. Yeah, she could go around in circles like this.
She wondered briefly whether she should tell him that she was dying. But she dismissed the idea, at least for the moment. No doubt, he’d treat her like some sort of invalid and she didn’t want that. Besides, he’d hardly been entirely open with her. Would he ever have revealed what he was, if he hadn’t had to?
And did it really matter whether she told him or not? This was hardly going to be a long-term relationship.
But while that might be the case, at this moment, she wanted to stay with him, discover what and who he was. Make love with him. Make him smile. Make him forget the darkness and sadness she sometime caught in his eyes.
Well, she could try and do that; she’d just have to do it quickly. Because she sensed she didn’t have long. Was it so wrong to keep quiet and try to enjoy whatever time she had left? It wasn’t as though his heart was involved. She believed he liked her, but nothing more, and he would soon get over her once she’d gone.
A movement snagged her attention out of the corner of her eye, and she raised her head to look. A figure swooped down on her tower, huge black wings beating the air.
She scrambled up as Ash landed lightly three feet away from her and perched on the edge of the balcony. The black wings folded against his back. He still wore the jeans but his top half was naked except for the straps of a sword scabbard that crossed his bare chest. The hilt of the sword protruded above his left shoulder. He was still nearly seven feet tall but as she watched, the wings melted away and he shrank to a more normal height, once again the Ash she knew and had come to… She bit off the thought as he stepped toward her.