Elias studies me. “Can you make it home?”
“I’ll get them there,” a new voice pipes up, and I have to fight not to laugh when Elias looks down to find Desi at his feet in all of his badass baseball bat glory.
Only Elias surprises me by not being surprised. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, Destroyer. Fly safe.” He glances over at Lucas. “And if you do stay in town, don’t stir up trouble for those of us who like flying under the radar.”
“Boring lot, all of you,” Lucas grumbles, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Elias glances between us, a knowing look in his eyes, and then vanishes.
Taking some of his weight off of me, Lucas gazes down into my face. “Let’s get you home and healed.”
“What about you?”
He offers me a secret smile, and I’m tempted to kiss it away. “I’ve got a really long history of not dying.”
In the night before us, Desi begins to vibrate, the mace quivering violently before transforming into the winged lion I first met in the mountains.
He kneels before us and drops his head.
“To home,” Lucas says wearily. He assists me up onto the lion’s back even with his injuries, and when he climbs up behind me, I don’t mind that he leans on me for support.
“We’re not going to fall, are we?” I do get rattled on occasion, and being on top of a winged lion right before taking off into the sky is more than enough reason to get rattled.
Lucas chuckles. “He’s a fast and smooth flyer, but I won’t let you fall, Harper.”
Chapter 14
It’s funny to me how some stories end with more questions than there are answers. There was a time when that frustrated me. Now, it makes sense.
My aunt is the queen of strange stories. Most of the audiobooks she suggests I listen to—books I just have to read—are crazy, vivid, and full of more symbolism than answers.
Listening to them, I developed a love for philosophy. A love for looking at the world in a completely different way than most. Quite possibly, my curse has something to do with that, too.
Except I’m not sure I was ever truly cursed.
As soon as we land at my cabin, Desi transforms back into the mace, rolls himself up onto my porch, and settles there.
Inside, Lucas, who seems a little stronger than he did on the ridge, carefully peels away my shirt. Unsnapping my bra, he runs his hands over my skin. Cool heat flares beneath his touch as he heals me. From my back to my stomach.
He kisses the side of my neck.
This time, however, isn’t about me.
Spinning in his embrace, I push him toward my bathroom. “I’d ask you to have sex with me, so this would be a lot less awkward for you, but we’ve already done that.”
Lucas’s lips twitch, his gaze stroking my face, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he knows my courage only goes so far. If he speaks, I lose it.
I unbutton his pants, tugging them down over his hips before gently shoving him toward the beveled glass door. “Into the shower with you.”
Undressing, I step into the space with him. Water blasts, steam rising, and for the first time in hours, I’m not cold.
I can’t look at his face because I’m still learning to be more open, to be the kind of person who can meet someone’s gaze without looking away.
Focusing on his skin instead, I run my hands over his chest, over muscle and sinew and healing wounds he seems not to feel. They heal too fast, the water turning a dark shade of blue with the unnatural soot as it washes down the drain. Lucas is too much of everything. Too strong. Too inhuman. He’s even too much of an angel among angels. Water slips like rain, rivulets forming on his flesh, and I lean forward, my lips replacing my fingers.
His hand slips into my hair.
No words.
Steam, water, skin, and heavy breaths. This is how I will remember not dying. This is how I will remember pain and lust. This is how I will remember the moment when Lucas went from being a stranger to someone I could possibly fall for. If given the time.
I kiss every wound he has on his skin. I can’t heal him the same way he heals me, so I give him what I can as he heals himself. Comfort. Friendship. Understanding.
He lifts me in the shower, pressing me against the wall, and even though I start to protest because I know his body is weakened, he fills me.
My hands slide into his hair, and he kisses me.
Who needs words when lips say things that are too awkward to say out loud? Who needs anything except sensation and fulfillment?
I’ve often wondered why books say the world explodes and stars rain down when an orgasm hits. Now, I know. It’s not just the unmistakable pleasure ripping through me that makes stars dance before my eyes. It’s the fact that the world really does feel different.
We leave the shower, dry off, and fall into bed.
Together.
Lucas doesn’t sleep, but he does close his eyes. I find myself studying him, my gaze slipping from his golden hair to his rugged face and strong body. Even as muscular as he is, there is a sleek gracefulness to him when he moves. Confidence bred from an eternity of fighting.
Opening his eyes, Lucas smiles when he realizes I’m staring. “You really do have a nice home.”
He couldn’t have said anything more perfect.
“It really is, isn’t it?” I reply.
He opens his arms, and I tuck myself into them. “You’re making wise, independent choices.”
I laugh. “I’m assuming that means you were a wise, first-choice decision of mine.”
“The best.”
“Long term or short term?” I ask, because it needs to be asked.
Lucas doesn’t reply.
“What happened tonight?” I try again. I’ve puzzled out most of what I’ve learned. The revelations about who I am. “Shadows came to me, and Desi called me a summoner?”
Lucas turns his head, his gaze running over my face. “Those weren’t shadows. Those were ghosts. Specifically, Hell ghosts, which are a little different from earth ghosts but essentially the same.” Pulling me tighter against him, he breathes, “A summoner conjures demons and spirits. It’s not unlike what psychics do. Except psychics only channel spirits while a summoner controls them. Summoners can even conjure lower caste fallen angels, although if you ask them to do your bidding, you may regret it.”
I stare at him. “How am . . . I mean, I don’t—”
“Gillian was a summoner,” Lucas reveals. He runs his fingers down the side of my face. I’ve noticed he likes touching, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s with me or because he doesn’t get enough of it as a Seraph. “By saving your mother’s pregnancy, Gillian made you a part of her. You share her gifts.” His brows furrow. “And because Gillian was drawing so much on your energy for the ritual to help Levi escape, she created a connection between you and the Infernum. Which is why I can’t read all of your thoughts.”