Laura had, indeed, been a resident of the Inner Sanctum’s 1st Ring. Until Azagoth reincarnated her thirty years ago.
Pain stabbed Zhubaal in the chest. His Laura was out there somewhere. She was a different person with a different name, but she was still his, and he wouldn’t break his vow until he found her.
Unfortunately, he was now bound to Azagoth with a vow just as binding as the one he’d made with Laura. He could leave Sheoul-gra, but only for a few hours at a time, which made searching for Laura––or whatever name she went by now–– next to impossible. Especially since Azagoth refused to give any specifics regarding her status, her parents, or even her species.
As a fallen angel, she should have been born only to a fallen angel to become either emim or vyrm, but Z had learned long ago that there were very few rules that couldn’t be broken. For all he knew, his Laura could be feeding on offal and lurking in garbage piles as a Slogthu demon.
The big question was whether or not he’d recognize her. Surely their bond had been strong enough that he could see his Laura in whoever she’d become. And if she’d had the rare good luck of retaining her soul-memory, she could remember bits of her previous life. If so, she might even be searching for him.
Sighing, he went back inside his office, but he didn’t feel like working anymore. He wanted to be out in the world, scouring the realms for Laura. He was a fool and he knew it, but dammit, he’d made a vow, and even if he couldn’t have the angel he’d fallen in love with, he wasn’t going to break the pact with someone he didn’t love. He’d hurt Cat, and he felt a little bad about that, but he hadn’t loved her. Cat deserved better. Laura deserved better.
He wasn’t sure what he deserved, but he knew what he wanted.
He was just losing faith that he’d ever get it.
Chapter Eighteen
Cat spent the next two days plotting ways to convince Azagoth to lighten up on Hades. Lilliana had volunteered to help, and Cat gladly took her up on her offer. The trick, Lilliana said, would be to make him think it was his idea. As Cat had suspected, he could be incredibly thick-skulled when it came to certain things, like offering second chances.
She opened the door to her apartment, intent on paying Lilliana a visit. But instead of facing an empty hall, she found herself standing mere inches away from Hades. Heart pounding with surprise and excitement, she stared.
“Hades,” she gasped. God, he looked good, so good he stole her breath. Wearing nothing but form-fitting, color-shifting pants and black boots, he filled the doorway, his massive shoulders nearly touching the doorframe. “What are you doing here? You’ll get in trouble––”
He was on her in an instant. His mouth came down on hers as he swept her into his arms, crushing her against him. His hand came up to tangle in her hair, holding her in place for the erotic assault. Forbidden, shivery excitement shot through her, and her core went molten.
“I don’t care,” he said against her lips. “I need you. I burn for you.”
She moaned, her heart soaring at his words as he pushed her toward the bed. But as her knees hit the mattress and they both fell onto the soft covers, she wedged her hands between them and pushed him off.
“I can’t,” she said, and oh, how it hurt to say that. “I can’t watch you suffer because of me.”
Hades cupped her cheek in his warm palm. “I was going to go to Azagoth first, but I know him. He’ll say no.”
“All the more reason to not do this.” She heard the sound of the plea in her voice, the weakness in the face of Hades’s desire. She needed to be stronger, but she wanted him so badly she shook with the force of it.
He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers in a feathery, tender kiss. “All the more reason to do it. How does that old saying go? Better to seek forgiveness than ask permission from some asshole who’s going to tell you no?”
Damn him, this wasn’t funny. “Hades––”
“Shh.” He silenced her with another kiss. This one deeper. Harder. “Just this once, Cat,” he murmured. “I need this to hold onto when I’m alone at night.”
She might have argued some more. She might have shoved him away. She might have done a lot of things if he hadn’t slid his thick thigh between her legs as he untied her corset and freed her breasts. If he hadn’t dipped his head to take one aching nipple into his mouth.
“Hades,” she moaned.
He opened his mouth fully over her breast, his hot breath flowing over her skin as he worked the buttons of her jeans. His tongue teased her as he dragged it low, under the swell of her breast before laving attention on the other one.