He wanted to kiss her, to discover if her taste would match her succulent scent. Wanted to know if her kiss would differ from Jamila’s. Wanted to know if she would enjoy his kiss as much as she had enjoyed the former boyfriend’s. And he hated that others had touched and kissed her without permission, the knowledge fanning to sparkling life an urge to maim and kill the culprits.
He had not wondered about these things before, had not cared who did what with whom. He, who had seen humans engage in every sexual act imaginable, had never even contemplated a female in an erotic way. Had never cared enough about anyone to experience any type of jealousy.
Until now. Until Annabelle. This girl was brave when she should cower, vulnerable when she should be hardened, kind when she should be cold. Exactly as Hadrenial had been.
But others had been brave, vulnerable and kind, as well, yet Zacharel had never reacted this way to any of them. And the fact that she kept reminding him of his brother should have doused any flames of arousal.
However, the flames were not doused.
Though he’d never preferred a physical “type” before, he clearly did so now. At the top of his What I Find Irresistible list? Blue-black hair, crystalline eyes and soft pink lips. Oh, and skin that appeared to be dipped in bronze and dusted with diamond powder.
Zacharel’s attraction to her was driving his thoughts, he knew that, but he had no weapons to combat it. He was too inexperienced, had never come against anything like this. Somehow, though, he had to find a way to resist her. He also knew that once a man feasted at the table of temptation, he would not leave it, would glut himself again and again.
But…she wasn’t a temptation he had to resist to remain in the heavens, was she? And what would be so bad about feasting on her, learning what it felt like to have her softer body pressed against his harder one? She was not expressly forbidden to his faction.
He gritted his teeth. Already he was a step closer.
He studied her more intently. Colors were not something he’d ever cared about unless they pertained to camouflage, yet the pink she now wore complemented her Asian ancestry perfectly. He knew what waited underneath those clothes, had stripped her during her sickness. But he had paid no attention to her feminine curves. Now he wondered…
Another step.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, suspicious. “I’m guessing it’s not about the weapon I requested.”
His cheeks heated with embarrassment and he spun away from her. He couldn’t lie, but he wouldn’t tell her the truth, either. Therefore, he would ignore her.
“Zacharel?”
Even her voice appealed to him. Soft, lyrical, firm yet beseeching. He’d noticed before, but now…yes, now everything had changed. Yet another step.
“The sword,” he said. “You say you want one, but could you really take a life?”
“Yes,” she replied, the assertion offered without any hesitation. “I have before. Demon life, that is, not human, just so we’re clear.”
Surprising that she’d found the strength to defeat an enemy most of her kind couldn’t see and often denied. “Even still, I will not give you a sword of fire. I cannot, for only my kind may carry them.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed.
“But there are other ways.”
Immediately she brightened. “Will you teach me?”
He did not have time. He had an army to train, battles of his own to fight. And he did not like the thought of her fighting a race of creatures without any limits to their depravity. But whoever had marked her would want her back, whether he’d left her willingly or not—especially when he learned that Zacharel had her. More than one-upping each other, demons lived for one-upping angels. And this demon would not hesitate to hurt Annabelle in the vilest of ways to do so. No demon would.
How she had survived even this long, Zacharel wasn’t sure.
“Yes,” he found himself saying. “I will teach you how to kill demons.”
CHAPTER SIX