Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark)

The rest of her panic fled, and realization at last dawned. Her movements slowed…stilled…and she drew in a deep breath…exhaled….

When the demons came, they exuded a rotten scent and a sticky film of evil she couldn’t quite scour from her skin. With Zacharel, there was only that sky-rich fragrance and the warm caress of male flesh. “Why did you…change your…appearance?” Her mind might recognize the truth, but her body was still catching up, breath rasping from her lungs.

“I cannot train you to watch for a tail if I do not have a tail. And do you recall the time I told you it’s possible to overcome fear with action, that how you act is more important than what you feel? I want you to learn to act against a demon even if your heart is pounding and your knees knocking together.”

Okay. Okay, she could do this. “You can let go of me now. I’ll behave.”

“Why start now?” He pushed her enough to make her stumble. She twisted around, facing him, keeping the daggers at her sides. His eyes were still a mesmerizing green, and helped anchor her in reality rather than sinking into the past as that metal-spiked tail clanged back and forth, back and forth.

Her gaze lowered and she watched the thing slither along the ground, unable to help herself. “Did you just make a funny, Zacharel?”

“You tell me.”

Suddenly the tail struck out, winding around her ankle and jerking, but somehow not cutting into her skin. She fell, hard, and glared up at him.

“You should have jumped up immediately and tossed one of your daggers at me,” he said casually. “I could attack you right now, and you would have no defense.”

Uh, she could stab him—because she still had her daggers. He hadn’t been smart enough to take them away, so there. “Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that I had permission to spill your guts.”

“And a demon will tell you such a thing? Give you such a warning?”

An excellent point. Embarrassed by her weakness and stupidity, she lumbered to her feet and grumbled, “So this is how you teach? Through trial and error?”

“You would not like my other method. Now. This time, when you see that I’m coming at you, act first.”

Got it. She waited, watching as his tail swished…swished…and launched toward her. As instructed, she jumped up, causing the spike to dance through the air. But he had expected her to do so and the tail changed direction, darting back toward her to again wind around her ankles and send her to her bottom.

Dang it! “Just so you know, I’m usually better. The fact that I’m alive should convince you of that.”

“No, the fact that you’re alive convinces me the demons weren’t actually trying to kill you. And just so you know, twice now I’ve killed you,” he said. “In battle, demons will always go for the dirty move. They will strike you from behind, kick you while you’re down, hit you where it hurts most.”

“Okay.” Up she stood. “All demons can suck it, so the next time you come at me, you’re gonna get it.”

“Good.” He offered no more warning than that, striking at her, his tail swiping, missing, swiping again, missing again.

With that final jump, she angled just enough to land on his tail, earning a yelp of pain from him. Grinning, she said, “Even though you’re a horrible teacher, I think I’m gonna like this lesson.”

His lips curled in the barest hint of a smile, a dimple there and gone, before he arced one of those beastly wings at her. Jumping up would do no good this time. The stupid appendage was too wide. She did the only thing she could. She spun low, swiping out with her dagger and cutting through the tissue.

He hissed out a breath and jerked the wing back into his side. Blood dripped down golden feathers—feathers soon replaced by black tissue as he fortified his image. For a moment, Annabelle worried she’d gone too far.

Then Zacharel nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent. I’m not such a horrible teacher, after all.”

“Actually, my instincts got you stabbed, not your majestic tutelage.”

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