He was lying beside me on the white sheet, his black hair obscuring his face, though I didnt have any doubt as to who he was. He slept like the dead, lying on his stomach, but I could see the rise and fall of his breathing, and I knew hed survived.
I touched my neck gingerly. There was nothing there, no mark or pain, yet a frisson of remembered reaction washed over me as I let my fingers trail against my flesh. I seemed to have developed a new and entirely unexpected erogenous zone at the base of my neck, and as I remembered the pull of his mouth, I let out a quiet moan of remembered pleasure.
I sat up, very carefully so as not to wake him. The room was filled with the odd half-light that I knew was dawn, and I stared out the French doors into the private garden with astonishment. It had been late afternoon when I entered this room. Late afternoon when Azazel and I had made love, if thats what you could call it. I doubted that was the operative word on his part, but I wasnt going to go searching for others. Yet now it was morning, and I remembered nothing after the blackness had closed around me. Except hadnt there been feathers?
He was watching me. I should have known hed sleep like a cat, instantly alert. He rolled over onto his back, before I remembered that Id wanted to look for signs of the wings I knew he must have. His gaze was heavy-lidded, and I looked for signs of my blood on his mouth, wondering if it would disgust me. Would he taste like blood?
Were alive, I said, somewhat unnecessarily.
Did you have any doubts?
Of course I did.
Surprise flickered in his eyes. And you agreed anyway?
Yes. I could be monosyllabic as well. I wasnt going to explain myself. Explain that wanting him was a fever in my blood, driving through me, and I would have faced the Truth Breakers once more just for the chance of sharing a bed with him.
He pushed himself to a sitting position beside me, for all the world like a husband about to read the Sunday paper, and stretched, a slow, sinuous movement that made my mouth go dry. I had the top sheet pulled up to primly cover my breasts, though as far as I could remember wed started on top of the silk coverlet that was now on the floor. The sheet was draped loosely around his hips as well, for all the world like a PG-rated romantic comedy. I wondered what would happen if I jumped him.
We slept, I said. Another scintillating bit of conversation.
It is to be expected. The first bonding is a powerful experience for both partners. Im sorry if I frightened you.
There it was again, another apology. But never for the right thing, for the real betrayal. You didnt frighten me.
He gave me a disbelieving glance, but then, hed felt my panic when hed pushed inside me, face-to-face. I could deny it all I wanted, but my fear had been real. It was gone now, another part of my curse broken. A part I hadnt even known remained.
But hed known, and been prepared for my reaction. He knew too much about me.
He was still watching me, and I was suddenly unwilling to meet his gaze. I slid down in the bed once more, turning my back to him. I was unwilling to get up and go in search of clothing, but his steady gaze made me desperately uncomfortable. Im going to sleep some more, I mumbled.
I hoped hed take the hint and leave the bed, leave me; for a minute he didnt move. And then he did, sliding down, turning and curving his body around mine in a gesture I might have thought was protective if it werent for the hard ridge of flesh at my back.
His arms went around me, pulling me back against him, his hands sliding up to cover my breasts. I made a hissing noise, only squirming for an instant, and then settling back against his protective
warmth. I dont know why I felt I needed protectionhe had proven to be my greatest danger. But for some reason he felt like my greatest safety, and I closed my eyes and slept.
LYING IN BED WITH RACHEL wrapped in his arms was pure hell, and it was only the beginning of his penance. If he could bring her at least a small portion of peace, then he would, no matter what the price. A raging hard-on was minor torment, right?
How had he come to such a place in his limitless existence? Hed prided himself on being cold and controlled with everyone but Sarah, and her loss had scoured away the last bit of gentleness he owned. It had taken too long to realize hed become a monster, what he despised most. He might not have been Uriels bitch, but hed come close enough, and it had taken Rachels near death to make him realize it.
He could still taste herthe sweetness of her desire, the richness of her bloodand he wanted to groan. He didnt dare fall asleep; hed probably end up with a wet dream, thoroughly horrifying her.
He couldnt stop thinking about it: how shed finally accepted him, wrapping her legs around him and drawing him in tighter; the soft sounds of need that came from her throat when he thrust; the way shed thrown her head back and arched her neck into the pulling of his mouth as hed sucked the nourishing, strengthening blood from her.