the window again, at the oblivious humans, and wondered whether that would happen here. And oddly, his thoughts went immediately to Ember, the sadness in her eyes right before she’d run away from him. How would she feel about causing such destruction? Would she break free of her humanity in triumph? Or would she just … break?
He felt a strange pull of something that felt almost like melancholy at the thought. Which was ridiculous. He’d sworn off feelings long ago. And why the hell did he care anyway? Maybe Gadreel was right, for once. He needed to get his head out of his ass … or his pants.
Uriel was still blathering on, puffed up, Raum thought irritably, with his own seraphic importance.
“In the meantime, I think it would be best for me to assign the woman a temporary Guardian to watch over her—”
“Fine,” Raum said, cutting him off. “I’ll do it.”
Uriel stopped short, staring at Raum as though he’d just grown another head. The look alone was worth the immediate shock to his own system. Had he actually said that? Out loud?
“I … appreciate the offer, Raum. But I was more think ing of someone who would appeal to her better nature,” Uriel said slowly.
“Won’t work,” Raum said with a shake of his head. “She’ll have to make peace with her worse nature if she wants to live. Gadreel is perfectly capable of finding the Nexus. I’ll be her Guardian.”
The seraph frowned. “I didn’t ask. Last time I checked, you were the opposite of a Guardian Angel.”
“And yet I’ll be watching over her anyway,” Raum replied, crossing his arms over his chest, fully prepared to argue … and win. “Imagine that.”
“Raum.” Uriel’s tone was warning, but Raum’s mind was made up.
“She’s mine. Deal with it.”
The words came out strangely, giving him pause. Still, he meant them, if only in the most temporary sense. He’d brought out the demon in Ember once, and easily. He’d no doubt see quickly that she really was no different from every other stinking half-breed on the planet. When she broke, which she would, he could handle whatever she threw at him until the damned cavalry arrived to save the day. He’d get over this stupid thing about the woman, she’d get shuttled off to Hell that much sooner, and best of all, Uriel would be pissed off the whole time.
It was the perfect solution.
Uriel’s jaw tightened to the point Raum thought it might crack … and wouldn’t that have been satisfying … but finally, he rose stiffly and fixed Raum with eyes that were full of warring emotions. Raum himself felt nothing but disgust. Uriel was everything that was wrong with the angels, letting his heart rule alongside his mind, placing some misguided idea of right and wrong above cold logic. He had grown past him.
Then how do you explain what you’re doing right now?
The whisper in his mind was soft, insidious, the shadow of the demon who had been celebrated as the Destroyer of Dignities before being brought low. The demon, he thought with a furious sort of determination, he still was. Still, the voice made his blood run cold.
Uriel’s eyes narrowed, but he turned to Levi. “Let me know,” was all he said. Then he was gone, slamming out of the bar with such force that the door frame cracked.
They sat in silence, the three of them, the faint sound of music from the jukebox the only sound in the nearly empty bar. Finally, Gadreel broke the silence.
“Well,” he said with a humorless flash of his teeth. “That was fun. Now if you’ll excuse me, before I dash off to find the Nexus and save the world, I believe there are several deadly sins that require my immediate attention.”
He stood, pushed in his chair and strode off in the direction of the waitresses, who were still huddled by the kitchen door and watching him hungrily.
Raum watched him go, forcing himself to relax his grip on the bottle before it shattered in his hand. He felt Leviathan’s eyes on him, but ignored that searching stare. He wasn’t in the mood. He hated talking, and he hated company. And he particularly hated Gadreel.
His gaze drifted back to the little shop across the street, and just for an instant, his eyes met Ember’s. There was a hot rush of awareness, like being caught in a sudden blast of desert wind, and the hair on his arms, the back of his neck, rose at the electricity that seemed to snap through the air between them.
He watched her flush and turn away, retreating farther into the store where he couldn’t see her. All he was left with was a toxic combination of fury at his want of her and utterly reckless, overwhelming desire.
Chapter 3
Ember woke in a cold sweat, thrashing her way to the surface until she realized that all she was fighting were her sheets, twisted around her body.
She’d had the nightmare again: a red desert. A gaping hole in the sand full of living, writhing horrors … a hole she had created. And all the while, the beautiful, terrifying man with the wings looking on approvingly. He had given her the words, though by now she knew them by heart … and as it always did, power had poured out of her like rain in a summer storm.
Not like when she was awake, living life as an undercover mutant without a cause. Though she didn’t think she would ever want that sort of power in her real life.
She’d had dreams like that off and on since she was a kid, an awkward little redhead with few friends, a dad whom she’d never met and who was only ever referred to as “that good-for-nothing scumbag,” and a mother who alternated between ignoring her and hating her. They were always scary. But in a way, they’d been kind of comforting. At least the man with the wings, the Bad Angel, as she’d always thought of him, hadn’t judged her so harshly as everyone else. He’d liked the things that made her different.
Too bad he was just as unreal as her stupid dreams. Then again, she wasn’t completely sure she wanted to meet that guy in real life. Not that he’d ever hurt her, but she’d never been able to shake the impression that he’d be a much nastier customer in person than she could ever be in her worst moments.
A soft, tapping sound jerked Ember from her jumbled waking thoughts, bringing her crashing back to the dark silence of her room. Or near silence. Ember lay utterly still, warm beneath her covers, hearing nothing but the faintly ragged sound of her own breathing. Moonlight poured in her window, the wind making the shadows of trees dance across her wall.
Ember exhaled slowly.
Calm down, she told herself. It was just her frayed nerves playing tricks on her, that was all. There was no doubt that her week had been one of the weirdest in recent memory, and she could pinpoint exactly when it had started: the second the tall, dark and strangely irresistible man had wandered into her shop and sent her sex drive into nuclear territory. She hadn’t had a reaction like that since puberty had hit her like an oncoming train, but even so, this time had been different. She’d never felt called to a man like that.
Of course, Ember was pretty sure she’d never seen a man quite like that. Period. But still …
She’d just begun to relax, accepting that she was only freaking herself out, when she heard it again.
Ember
