Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark)

Expression blank, he said, “I am sorry for what I did to you, Annabelle, I truly am. I did not mean to… I was caught up… I’m sorry,” he repeated.

Such sincerity from him should have surprised her, but it didn’t. “I know you are,” she said. And she really did, now that her mind was freed from the bondage of fear. That had been his first kiss, and he’d been caught up in the sensations, just as she had been…until he’d ripped her top and bared her breasts, and memories of Fitzpervert and his camera of shame had flooded her. “But just so you know, I won’t be wanting to kiss you again.”

That part of their relationship was over. Zacharel hadn’t meant to hurt her, but hurt her he had. He’d abused the very fragile trust she’d built with him. He hadn’t stopped when she had wanted him to stop, and she couldn’t risk something like that happening again.

Muscles ticked below eyes of green frost, a testament to a barely leashed temper. “You will change your mind.”

If he ever let go of that leash… “No, I won’t, and I won’t leave with you until you accept it. And by the way, did you know you’re snowing again?”

At first, he offered no reaction to her words, or her rejection. Then, with a powerful shrug of his shoulders he flared his wings, studied the feathers of one, then the feathers of the other. “I must have done something to encourage my Deity’s displeasure. And I can guess what that something is.”

Disappointment softened his features, making him appear as boyish as he had inside that cave, when he’d wanted her so desperately. I will not soften. But finally, blessedly, the burn in her chest faded.

“So that’s what the snow is all about?” she said. “Why was he displeased with you in the first place?”

“I killed humans in order to kill demons. Humans worth saving, though I did not realize it at the time. People who could have been like you. I am glad I did not judge you guilty and end you without thought.” Zacharel closed the rest of the gap between them, no longer content to wait for her to take his hand. His body brushed against hers, and she stumbled backward, even tripped over the limb of a fallen demon and fell to her butt. “What a shame that would have been.”

She jumped to her feet, and backed up to increase the distance between them, but she never gained any ground and finally found herself pressed against a tree trunk. Her heart drummed against her ribs, but she wasn’t afraid. Maybe because she knew he was no longer lost to lust, or maybe because he’d fought so tirelessly beside her, striking at anyone who’d attempted to get to her while she was distracted fighting someone else.

He’d even allowed himself to be injured, just to prevent her from being injured.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Green fire lanced down at her. “You will kiss me again, Annabelle, because I give you my word I will not lose control a second time. I learned my lesson, and I learned it well.”

“Your optimistic, faith-filled words won’t work with me.”

“Won’t they? Do not try to tell me that you no longer desire me. I know better. I’m new at this, yes, but I’m not stupid. Your pupils are flared, your pulse is a jackhammer at the base of your neck and you liked what I was doing to you before I went too far. I can still hear your moans in my ears.”

She gulped, considered lying, thought screw it and gave him the truth. “I did like it. You’re right about that. But then I really, really disliked it.”

“From your tone, I can only assume you think to deny me a chance to prove myself.” He leaned a fraction closer. Too close, his breath like the most decadent of caresses against her skin. “That you long to punish me. Well, I will accept punishment. For a little while.”

She gulped.

Gena Showalter's books