Wicked Kiss. Michelle Rowen

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Wicked Kiss - Michelle  Rowen

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you can do?”

      “Roth.” There was a sharp edge of warning in Bishop’s voice.

      Roth snorted. “We’re going to kill her, it’s just a matter of time. You said so yourself.”

      My breath left me in a rush. “You said what?”

      Bishop’s gaze flashed to me. “I didn’t say that.”

      “So he misunderstood you? Please tell me how that sort of message could get messed up.”

      Kraven laughed, an unpleasant sound that slithered under my skin. “Bishop didn’t come right out and say we had permission to kill you. But he said if you slip up and start munching on souls then you’d become a problem we’d have to deal with. Better?”

      “Is that true?” I shot a searching look at Bishop.

      His expression was unreadable. “We’ll talk about this later.”

      “No, we’ll talk about it now.”

      “Later,” he said again firmly. “Go home, Samantha. We can handle the girl.”

      I stared at him, trying to read his frustratingly hard-to-read face. I suddenly wanted to run—far away from here, far away from these three...even Bishop, who normally made me feel safe. At least, I thought he did.

      But I stood my ground. I refused to be chased away that easily. I couldn’t let myself give in to my fear. “I’m not leaving yet. I can still help you tonight.”

      Disapproval slid through his blue eyes. “Fine. Stay. Your choice.”

      I could prove to them that what happened at the club wasn’t really me. It was a slipup, not an indication that I was losing it. And when I got my soul back, my hunger would be gone. The cold I always felt would fade away. I would be as normal as I could ever hope to be.

      “Feeling a connection to the blonde chick?” Kraven asked with a smirk. “How sweet. Maybe you can be best friends. I know you’re looking for a new one since the last got flushed away.”

      I didn’t know why I was surprised that he could be so thoughtlessly cruel. My only defense was to put on a good game face. The best way to combat sarcasm was with more of the same.

      “Or maybe you can bite me.”

      His grin stretched. “Is that an invitation?”

      “Not tonight...James.”

      His smile fell.

      I knew his human name. He’d shared it with me in a moment of weakness, and I knew it bothered him when I used it.

      “Gray-girl’s got a smart mouth,” Kraven muttered. “It’s going to get her in trouble someday.”

      “You’re right,” Bishop said. “It will.”

      He was mad that I hadn’t tucked tail between my legs and scurried home like a good little monster. But I was staying for the ritual. I would be there for the new girl, no matter what.

      I knew what was coming. She didn’t. Right now, she’d have no memory of why she was here. The invisible barrier that stretched over Trinity, put in place by the combined powers of Heaven and Hell, was designed to keep supernaturals in the city. But it also kept supernaturals out. To get in, angels or demons had to be specially protected against it. It also stripped away memories. The only thing that helped pinpoint a demon or angel was the searchlight—the one only I could see.

      The ritual was what restored them to their former demonic or angelic selves. If it wasn’t performed, they’d wander the city forever with no idea who they were.

      I would rather not have to witness the ritual again—to put it mildly—but I couldn’t just walk away and let this girl deal with these three without a shred of moral support.

      Her pace had quickened. She knew she was being followed. Before long, she found herself in a blind alley, in a less populated neighborhood. She turned to face us, holding her hands up in front of her.

      “I don’t want any trouble,” she said uneasily.

      “Do we look like trouble?” Kraven asked, looking down at himself. “Honestly. I’m a little insulted.”

      “Let’s do this,” Roth said.

      Bishop shot him a look. “Patience.”

      The girl’s gaze moved to me and a measure of relief went through her eyes. I knew I looked pretty harmless. Nothing more than a teenager dressed to go clubbing on a Saturday night, my long dark hair loose around my shoulders. Nothing to fear.

      Not at first glance, anyway.

      “Who are you?” she asked.

      “A friend,” I told her, forcing myself to sound calm. “My name’s Samantha.”

      She swallowed hard. “Why are you following me?”

      “Because we want to help you. We know you’re having problems. We know you don’t know who you are.”

      Her blue eyes widened. “How could you know that?”

      “Magic,” Roth said with a thin, unpleasant smile.

      Bishop was the one who always performed the ritual, but he wasn’t making any sudden moves.

      “I think I hit my head.” She scrubbed her hand through her blond hair. “I woke up earlier and I—I didn’t know where I was. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a little while, so...thanks, but I don’t need any help.”

      Despite the chill in the air, sweat dripped down my back and my palms were damp. “You will be fine. I promise.”

      “Samantha’s right. You’ll be fine.” Bishop finally pulled the curved golden dagger out of the sheath he wore under his shirt, along his spine.

      Her eyes shot to it immediately and widened with fear. “What is that?”

      “Check her back.”

      Kraven grabbed hold of both of her wrists in one hand. He pulled at her sweater and she let out a frightened shriek.

      I stormed forward and punched him in his arm. “Do you have to be such a jerk? You’re scaring her!”

      “Sorry, sweetness. There isn’t really a polite way to do this.”

      “Samantha, please don’t let them hurt me,” the girl begged. A tear slid down her cheek and she trembled, but didn’t try very hard to break away from Kraven’s grip.

      My heart wrenched for her. “I need to check something real quick. Everything will be better soon. You need to trust me, okay?”

      “O-okay.” Her voice quaked.

      I took a deep breath and pulled her sweater up her back a few inches so I could see her skin. The lines of the tattoo I’d been

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