“Pesky little things, emotions,” I joked.
Her laugh was soft. “They do tend to get in the way.”
“I want to save her,” I admitted.
Genesis’s eyes saddened. “You can’t.”
“I keep telling myself if I wouldn’t have—”
Genesis’ eyebrows arched. “Go on, wouldn’t have what?”
“Bargained,” I blurted out. “I made a bargain with Sariel. Allow me thirty days to pursue her, to love her, he made me human while restoring her immortality as a gift. At the end of thirty days, if I had not succeeded, I would die. But, of course, Sariel failed to mention that if we mated, I’d be restored.”
Genesis frowned. “It doesn’t seem like Sariel to leave something like that out. Are you sure you are restored?”
I frowned. “I have all of my powers, look at me.” I spread my arms wide, releasing her hand in the process.
“But do you have your immortality?” She wondered aloud.
I paused as the room itself tensed, and then like a warning, the lights flickered. Because if I could die, if it was possible to die without the draining of my immortality, that meant… the future had not truly changed.
Because in the end.
Stephanie could still kill me.
Stab me in the heart.
And I would perish.
Stephanie
TEARS BLURRED MY LINE of vision as gravel crunched beneath Mason’s old boots. They’d been by the door, and I’d been desperate. Maniacal laughter bubbled up inside of me. What was happening? No matter how hard I tried, the temptation to give in to something so dark and forbidden, was like inviting warmth into the icy parts of my soul.
The air around me stilled, but I continued walking down the street toward the small wooded area where I used to go running—before my life had changed, before I’d discovered that I was an abomination.
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt, I picked up my pace, only to slam directly into an invisible wall.
Confused I took a step back.
There was nothing in front of me.
But air.
The wind teased my hair as it whipped against my cheeks and then the smell of cinder burned my nostrils.
“Angel,” a deep voice whispered behind me.
Slowly, I turned on my heel.
Timber leaned casually against a tree, his muscular body tensed up like he was ready to fight.
“I could level you by simply thinking it,” I threatened.
“You could.” He nodded, then shoved off the tree and started walking forward. “But you won’t.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really didn’t want to piss me off, not after everything that had gone down with Cassius. “You have no idea what I will or will not do.”
“And I would never try to guess a woman’s thoughts for fear that I’d be on the wrong side of her affection for a century.” He smirked. “At least.”
“Possibly longer,” I added.
His dimpled grin grew, perfect white teeth snapped together in a crushing smile as he finally stopped in front of me. We were matched for height, but he was older, a lot older, and ever since seeing the battle Cassius led against him, something a lot like fear told me that to fight him would be more trouble than it was worth.
“Clearly you wanted to talk about something since you went to so much trouble,” I said.
Timber continued to stare through me. “It’s growing.”
“Your ego?”
His smile dimmed. “I think that ship sailed long ago, I’m afraid. After all, I can only allow so much arrogance before it blinds me.”
“Good point.”
“And now…” His dark hair fell in waves across his forehead; he was beautiful. And wasn’t that the point with Demon? Beautiful was trustworthy. Beautiful meant safe.
Or did it?
To humans, beauty always meant security.
To immortals, it almost always meant you were courting death.
“Now?” I prompted.
Timber inhaled greedily, sucking in air so deep through his mouth that it looked awkward, his eyes rolled in the back of his head. “I sense—”
“—the darkness.” I tried to sound casual. “Got it, I know. It’s like I’m in Star Wars and everyone can sense the force but me, thanks, but no thanks, don’t need your help or anything else from you. Unless you plan on telling me how the Demon are creating more numbers, we have nothing to discuss.”
“But of course.” He shrugged. “I would love to show you my pet project, but what would your mate say? You’ll have to touch me,” he held out his hand. “You’ll have to taste my blood to see through my eyes. And what’s worse, you may enjoy what you see.”