Layla knew, but Shadowman answered. “We wouldn’t have been able to touch.”
Angels and fae were at odds, the light of the first eroding the darkness of the other, which was why Custo kept well back from Shadowman.
Layla’s face heated as cool Shadow curled around her in an embrace, caressing her skin and quickening her blood. Sensuous zings ran down her tightening middle to torture her when she had no hope of release. Yes, if she had a choice to come back as an angel, full of knowledge, but not able to be with him, or as a mortal, ignorant and scared, she’d choose mortal every time.
“Kathleen had to have agreed to this business,” Shadowman said cruelly, even as he reached out to Layla. His black gaze wouldn’t let her move. “She chose her fate.”
Which made Layla tip up her chin and push back her shoulders. He had a right to act like a cold bastard. She was asking the worst and betraying him, too.
“What I don’t get,” Talia said, “is why Khan can’t choose his fate. He’s been Death for forever. Now it’s time for someone else to step up. Then he could watch over Layla.”
“Angels have been stepping up,” Custo said. “But they can’t cover all of the Shadowlands—the place is endless. And they can’t sense a passing and catch it at the brink. Souls have been lost, and they need to be recovered. Khan is the only one who can do that. His absence is a growing problem.”
Shadowman smoldered in his darkness. “He’s saying I don’t have a choice.”
“But you do,” Layla answered. “You made one choice already. I’m asking you to make the other one. The idea that some lost soul in Twilight is fading while you and I are off doing who knows what . . . It’s obscene.”
“No, Layla,” Custo interrupted. “You have that wrong, too.”
She gave him a look that dared him to prove otherwise.
“I, as well as most of The Order, believe your union with Shadowman was necessary. Because of the two of you, magic has once again come into the world. Art and innovation are in a modern renaissance. The influx brings good and bad, yes, but both are absolutely vital to the well-being of humanity. It was past time. We are at the brink of a new age.”
“And the devil?” she scoffed. “I let it into the world.”
Custo shook his head. “If the angels of our Order have difficulty resisting the gate, it was impossible for you to resist its pull.”
“Even I heard its call,” Shadowman said, finally ripping his gaze from her to regard Custo. “And I am Death.”
Layla held her breath. There. He’d said it. He might even do what was right.
“You don’t have to worry about the devil,” Adam said. “She’s tricky, but destroying her is a question of firepower, which Segue can handle. Her husband, Mickey Petty, is arriving shortly. We’ll use him to draw her out.”
That was Adam, trying to work the problem. And everyone else, absolving her of her culpability. She didn’t deserve it but couldn’t do anything regardless.
“Which leaves the gate,” Custo said. “I have to warn you: The Order won’t let you pass into Twilight with Shadowman before we attempt to destroy it. If you die before it is destroyed, then it may never be destroyed. Eventually, someone else will be compelled to open it.”
The Shadow on her skin turned rough.
“You can look at her,” Shadowman interrupted, “and plan her murder?”
“You’ve made no progress,” Custo argued, his mouth drawn into a bitter line. “The devil just took more lives. The Order is going to act, and soon.”
“Enough!” Shadowman said, standing. He loomed over her, a dark shadow splitting the room. Darkness smudged out from his skin into smoky wisps in the air. “This talk is futile. I won’t comply. Layla, you will come with me, and we will be happy.”
This just wasn’t going to be a happy day.
Layla stood slowly. It hurt to move with the fire inside and the bell in her head. She was more than a foot shorter than he, but she wasn’t scared. Of course he would fight this. He would fight and fight until she gave him no other choice. Her throat was already raw from containing her own screams of denial. She tried for a little lightheartedness. “I warned you about the imperious thing.”
“I can’t lose you again,” he said. His voice had lost all human tone, rumbling low, from a deep storm within him.
She reached to brush his cheek, so beautiful, so severe. “That part you can’t control.”
“Watch me. I won’t let you go.”
“You will, or I’ll fade like all the rest.”
“Not if I can keep you alive.”
“Don’t you understand?” Layla said. “This is my destiny.”
Layla saw Talia duck into the bedroom, but the soft cries from within came from the mother, not a child. The fire in Layla’s chest flared. The sooner this was over, the better.
She turned to Custo. “I’ll want the rest of the day to be miserable, if that’s okay with you.”