“Chay. Come inside.”
He looked at me so long that I thought he was going to say no, but he nodded once and walked to the door. I moved so he could walk inside without touching me.
“Thanks. It’s freezing out there.”
I shut the door after him and sat down on the couch. He followed, sitting next to me. Our thighs brushed against each other. I turned to tell him to scoot over—there was plenty of room on the couch, so he didn’t need to sit so close to me. But that wasn’t what I did. Instead, when I looked at him, I reached out, grabbed his face, and pulled it to me. I kissed him—he kissed back.
My hands dropped from his face to his shoulders, sliding down his arms and down his thighs. He groaned and leaned forward, putting his hand behind my neck, holding me to him.
“Chay…” I sighed when he placed an openmouthed kiss on my neck, his tongue gliding across my skin.
I pulled back, getting on my knees. Moving myself onto his lap, I put one leg on each side of him. I lowered myself against him. I could feel him against me, leaving no question what his body craved from me. Pushing his shirt up, I ran my fingers over his chest, lower to his abs, and lower still, pulling a low groan from him.
Our kisses grew bolder, harder, almost desperate. He skimmed his hands under my shirt and up my spine, before moving them around me and skimming his fingertips against the sides of my breasts. I gasped and shivered.
His mouth never left mine. Cupping my rear, he rolled me onto my back. He leaned over me, kissing me deeply, his tongue slipping between my lips and tangled with mine. His hand ran up and down the inside of my leg. It tickled in all the right places and I arched toward him, losing myself in the haze of longing, wanting him to keep kissing me, touching me… and then I felt the click of a snap and reality slammed into me, stealing my breath.
I knew I was in trouble.
I scrambled out from under him, falling on the floor. Standing, I backed away. I should have screamed, but my voice wouldn’t work. Maybe it was shock or disbelief. Either way, I stood staring at him as he slowly climbed off the couch, my dagger in his hand.
It happened much like in my visions. He advanced on me, the dagger twirling in his hand. Light from the streetlights outside glinted off the blade.
“Chay,” I whispered.
His eyes were vacant, glazed over like a drug addict high on his poison of choice. He didn’t acknowledge me.
“Chay,” I yelled, trying to break through the trance-like state he was in. He blinked. A flash of recognition sparked in his eyes before they dulled, and he continued taking small steps toward me.
My eyes dropped to the knife and back to his. “You don’t have to do this. Fight it, Chay. Fight the vision.”
Nothing.
His movements were methodical, almost robotic. It wasn’t Chay. Something was driving him, something stronger than a normal vision. A demi-angel’s visions were designed to protect, not to harm. This was something different.
“I’m sorry, Milayna,” he said quietly. “It has to be this way.”
I shook my head and licked my dry lips. “No, no, it doesn’t. You don’t want to do this.”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
“He says it must be done, and I’m the one that has to do it.”
“You can fight him. You’re stronger than Abaddon,” I screamed. I backed up as he walked closer and closer to me. The knife was aimed at my gut.
I stumbled into the wall behind me. He turned the knife over and over in his hand. I watched closely. He wasn’t gripping the knife as it turned; it was lying in the palm of his hand. I hit his arm and knocked it out of his grasp. He looked at the knife lying on the floor. His face filled with rage.
He backhanded me across the face before shoving me hard against the wall. My head bounced off it with a thud. With one hand pressing my shoulder against the wall, he leaned his hip against me, pinning me. He put his forearm over my throat and pressed, choking me. My chest burned, and my head was pounding to the beat of my heart, which was racing in my chest. Clawing at his arms, I tried to push them away. I reached for his face, but his arms were too long, I couldn’t reach far enough to do any damage. My head started to swim and stars blinked in front of my eyes.
I reached my hand toward the dagger lying on the floor. It vibrated. I could feel the electrical shocks run through my fingers as I focused my power on the dagger. It flew from the floor and straight into my hand. I gripped it tightly.
I can’t stab him.
My blood rushed behind my ears, and the stars floating across my vision grew. My time was running out. I sliced the blade of the knife across Chay’s forearm.