He was nothing special, apart from his rather spectacular good looks. And I lived in the VillageI saw any number of beautiful men on a daily basis and they never made me weak in the knees. Of course, in the Village most of the men would be patently unavailable, but that didnt mean I couldnt
appreciate them. I seriously lusted after Russell Crowe, and he was just as unlikely to find his way into my bed.
This man wasnt my type. I liked rugged men, a little on the beefy side, with broad shoulders, and average height so they didnt make me feel small and inconsequential. I hated being loomed over, and if I could have found a boyfriend shorter than my five foot three, I would have grabbed him.
He had dark gold eyelashes fanned out against his high cheekbones. Even unconscious, he was still clearly in pain. If only I could remember how the hell Id ended up here with him, I might figure a way out of it. But my mind was a blank, and all I could do was sit next to the unknown man at my feet and worry.
I put my hand on his hot forehead, brushing a lock of his hair away, and he muttered something beneath his breath.
Hush, I murmured. Hush, now. Well find help in the morning if youre not better. I could hike out of this place and find the police as well as a hospital, and maybe come up with some solid answers.
But in the meantime I was freezing and he was warm and I wasnt going anywhere. And while I couldnt remember how hed been hurt, any more than I could remember how the hell Id ended up here, I had the unmistakable conviction that hed been wounded trying to help me. So I owed him.
I lay down beside him, the ground cold and hard beneath me despite my natural padding. Id always wondered why metal chairs hurt my butt when I clearly carried my own built-in cushionif I had to have those extra pounds, I ought to have had some benefits.
I inched closer to the living furnace beside me, leaning against the comforting, solid feel of him. The dangerous heat sank into my bones, and I let out a blissful sigh.
He moaned, restless, and suddenly moved, rolling onto his side and putting his good arm around me. I was pressed up against him, and he was hot.
Too hot. Burning up.
But for some crazy reason, he felt so safe. He lay back, still holding me, and I went with him, letting my head rest against his shoulder. For the moment there was nothing I could do to rescue us. For the moment I could close my eyes, listening to the wild creatures out there in the darkness, and know that I was safe.
I could remember nothing; it was all lost and fuzzy. I was like that fish in Finding Nemo two seconds later and the thought was gone. I only knew one thing. Lying in this mans arms was good, and there was no place else I wanted to be. Not back in my apartment in the Village, not doing any of the thousand empty things that had seemed so important just a short time ago. This was where I belonged.
Beyond in the darkness, the hungry creatures howled their rage.
And I closed my eyes and slept.
CHAPTER FOUR
AZAZEL LOOKED OUT AT THE sky from his perch atop the high cliff. His only company was the occasional night birdthe rest of the Fallen knew well enough to leave him alone at times like these. He could be very dangerous when roused.
He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on Raziel. He had gone out for a routine pickupshould have been back hours ago. But there was no sign of him.
He had been with Raziel since the beginning of time. They were brothers, though born from no womans womb. He had always known when Raziel was in any kind of trouble, but right now that connection was blocked.
There could be any number of reasons. Raziel could turn off the mental connection anytime he wanted to, and he often did. During his jobs. During sex.
Though Raziel had sworn he would never bond again, and his brief sexual encounters were rare.
He could be underground, or caught in an electrical storm. Strange atmospheric conditions sometimes interfered with the strong bond that lay between them.
Or he could be dead.
No, that was unthinkable. He would know if Raziel had diedthey were too much a part of each other, from back in the mists of prehistory.
He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, searching for the smell of him, the merest trace of him. He sent his questioning mind in each direction, and finally he felt it. The faintest spark of lifehe was barely holding on. He wasnt strong enough to signal for help, but Azazel sensed he wasnt alone.
Whoever was with him might be able to help. All he or she had to do was ask.
Unless Raziels companion was the one who had brought him close to death in the first place.
Azazels eyes flew open. There were others in their hidden stronghold who had different gifts. Someone else might be able to narrow down where Raziel was. And if they were to have a chance of saving him, he would need help.
He looked out over the stormy
ocean, the thick mists of daylight moving in, the mists that kept them hidden from everyone. Their home was tucked away on the northwest coast of North America, between the United States and Canada, shrouded in shadows and fog. Sheol was safety, secrecy, literally the hidden place. A place where they could dwell in peace until Uriel sent one of them out to collect one of the infrequent souls that actually required guidance.