Nemesis: Paranormal Angel Romance (Realm of Flame and Shadow Book 2) Page 8
“Don’t worry.” She sat down and smoothed her napkin across her lap. “I definitely haven’t gone without tonight.”
He laughed and pulled the bottle of wine from the basket. “Glad to hear it. Wine?”
She put her hand across the top of her glass to prevent him from pouring. “No, thanks. Not when I’m—I’ll stick with water.”
“Not when you’re what? On duty?” He had no idea why the possibility she was still actively on an investigation and had used him as part of her undercover operation pissed him off, but it did.
Her eyes widened in obvious surprise. “Of course not. I was going to say not when I’m having so much fun—but then I thought you’d think I was being an idiot.”
One of them was being an idiot. And it wasn’t her. It was a novel experience, and not one he wanted to repeat.
“I’m flattered you prefer me to a drop of good red.” He swirled the deep rich liquid in his glass. She glanced up from her plate and then appeared riveted on the lead crystal. “How’s your meal?”
She tore her gaze away from his wine. Maybe there was more to her avoiding alcohol than she’d told him. It would account for the fleeting look of desperate need that had flashed across her face.
He placed his glass on the table and reached for a bottle of water. Human alcohol did nothing for him in any case. He’d only ordered it because he thought she might enjoy it.
She licked her lips before turning back to her plate. “Just right,” she said as she speared her fork into a bite-sized piece of steak.
It was an effort to tear his gaze from her, but he couldn’t stare at her all night like a besotted mortal. And there was something he wanted to know. “Who did you think it was at the door just now?”
She shrugged one shoulder and avoided eye contact. “No idea.”
“So you usually leap up like that? All you needed was a sword in your hand and you’d have looked like a warrior princess.”
She didn’t smile at his attempt at humor.
“You can never be too careful.” She focused on her meal as though it was the most intriguing sight she’d ever encountered.
“Because of your job?” What the hell was she, a spy?
She made a non-committal hmm that stoked his curiosity higher.
She was the woman he was spending the night with. That was all. Why the obsession with wanting to find out more about her? Her job wasn’t of any importance to him, and it didn’t matter whether she was single. But the irrational need to know burned through him.
“Are you in a relationship with anyone? Someone who would consider you their personal property?”
“No.” Her voice was guarded. “Are you?”
“That would be a no.” He shot her a dazzling archangelic smile. She was beautiful, surprising and a revelation in bed. But none of that meant this was more than a one-night stand. He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. “I don’t do relationships.”
She visibly relaxed and instead of experiencing relief that she hadn’t misunderstood him, macabre fascination flared. She was, after all, a mortal. Mortals were irresistibly drawn to archangels and invariably wanted a lot more than a single encounter. Why then did she appear perfectly fine when he’d basically told her tonight was all they would ever have?
Not that he wanted a messy emotional scene. What the fuck do you want?
“Neither do I.” She smiled at him but for a fleeting second, he saw desolation in her eyes. “Too complicated.”
Damn right it was. For a brief encounter, this was already more complicated than anything he could remember.
Azrael stirred, as Rowan stealthily untangled her limbs from his. After using the third and final condom—a lurid pea-green monstrosity—they’d fallen asleep on the bed, her head on his chest and his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Another novelty, but this one he liked.
The side lamps glowed, and he watched her bend over to pick up her corset from the floor. Her tangled black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and his cock stirred as she struggled to lace up the corset, hiding her luscious curves from view.
Damn, she was seductive. Even when she didn’t mean to be. They’d had sex three times tonight after which he’d discovered she didn’t have a second packet of those hideous condoms tucked down her boots.
But now they were awake, he’d teleport to the nearest all-night pharmacy to restock. A minor inconvenience. He had no intention of prematurely cutting short this night. Not when it was the only one they would have together.
“Hey.” He didn’t know why she felt the need to pull her clothes on when she was only visiting the bathroom. “You okay?”
She swung round and guilt wreathed her features, as though he’d caught her trying to steal one of his wing feathers. The seductive image flooded his mind of wrapping his wings around her and seeing awestruck wonder fill her eyes.
It would never happen. He ignored the bizarre, hollow ache that flared deep in his chest. It meant nothing.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He had no idea why she whispered but for some reason found it enchanting.
“You didn’t. Hurry up and come back to bed. It’s cold without you.” Gods alive, had he really said that?
She clutched her dress to her breasts in a bewitching gesture of modesty. “I have to leave. It’s late.”
She had to what? He’d thought she was going to the bathroom. It was almost three in the morning and Rowan had intended to slip into the night without a word.
He was all but fucking speechless.
Except she didn’t look like she was used to creeping out of hotel bedrooms in the middle of the night. Damn it, he couldn’t work her out at all. She was a mass of contradictions. Not least when it came to sex. She was a sizzling siren who’d scorched his reason, but conversely appeared oddly inexperienced when it came to foreplay. And it seemed she didn’t have a clue how to confront a male pissed off by her early morning flit.
He threw back the sheet and left the bed. Her swift glance to his groin only stoked his need further. There was no fucking way she was walking out until they were both thoroughly satisfied.
“Stay.” His voice was low, persuasive. He didn’t turn on the archangelic charm, but he wasn’t far off. “For breakfast.” He trailed his finger along the silken curve of her cheek. Another few hours, another few fucks, and then he’d be willing to say goodbye.
“I’m sorry.” She sounded breathless and for a second he thought he’d misheard. “I can’t, Azrael. I need to get back.”
He’d never invited a woman to stay for breakfast before, and the first one he had—refused.
“Thank you for tonight.” Her voice was soft. Seductive. Except she wasn’t seducing him, she was leaving him. “I’ll remember it forever.”
She stepped back and smiled, but her eyes glittered with what looked suspiciously like tears. It was those tears and that wobbly smile that tipped him over the edge.
Fuck it. So what if he saw her again? He needed some down time from his current mission.
“How about we repeat the experience tonight?”
She didn’t answer right away but her fingers clenched around her dress. Was that a good sign? Damn, now he was looking for signs?
“I’d like that.” And yet worry filled her eyes, as if she’d just agreed to something incalculably dangerous.
She was hiding something. He was certain it was to do with her job. Was she in the middle of a mission and concerned about jeopardizing it?
“Same time same place?” He grinned. It was crazy how much fun this was.
“No.” Suddenly she sounded decisive. “I’ll meet you at ten inside the Slug and Cabbage—it’s a pub about fifteen minutes from here. Does that sound okay?”
Her suggestion was fine. It was just intriguing that she hadn’t automatically agreed with his. Then again, she was tantalizingly immune to his archangelic charms.
“Sure.” He watched her sigh with apparent r
elief and then she pulled her dress over her head. Clearly, she was still intent on leaving. “Give me a minute and I’ll escort you to your car.” He assumed she had a car. When she opened her mouth, he waved away her inevitable objections as he sauntered into the bathroom. “You’re not walking the streets of London alone at this time of the night.”
Didn’t matter if she was used to doing such a thing. He wasn’t having it when she’d just spent the last seven hours in his company.
He came back into the bedroom. The only sign of Rowan was her stockings, discarded on the floor.
What the fuck? He pulled on his pants and grabbed his crumpled shirt. Would it have killed her to hang on for half a minute? He glanced down the corridor, but she was nowhere in sight, so he teleported to the ground floor to wait for her. Except within thirty seconds he had to accept that she had damn well eluded him.
A human had out maneuvered him. Admiration flowed through him at her rare skill. She’d better turn up tonight. Otherwise he’d rip London apart until he’d hunted her down.
He’d never hunted for pleasure before. The prospect fired his blood.
Chapter 10
Rowan
“Are you seeing sexy-arse again tonight?” Over the last week Lily’s condition had dramatically improved. From the lethargic, forgetful girl of less than two weeks ago she was now more like the woman who had emerged from the induced coma six months ago. She clearly remembered Rowan’s attempt at healing with her amethysts last week and was convinced that was the catalyst that had woken her up. Rowan was more inclined to think it was down to whatever the medics were giving her.
Curled up on Lily’s bed in the luxurious room adjacent to the medical wing, Rowan flapped her hand at the younger woman.
“Not so loud. Do you want the whole house to hear?” But despite her words she couldn’t stop her inane grin. It happened every time she thought of Azrael, and he was on her mind a lot. She’d even stopped stressing that she would be summoned into Sakarbaal’s presence for her negligence regarding the Estella’s debacle. It seemed Lady Luck had been on her side that night.
“The door’s shut and it’s made of solid oak.”
True, but Lily still couldn’t grasp the scope of preternatural abilities vampires possessed. She didn’t want any of them suspecting she had seen the same guy seven times over the last ten days. She hadn’t even confided in Meg. Not after the suspicions Brad had sowed in her mind the other night.
“I’m seeing him tomorrow.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “I know I need to break it off, but I just can’t.”
“Screw that.” Lily pushed herself from her chair and rubbed the small of her back. There was a frown on her pretty face, the face that had been brutally scarred on one side by her attacker more than eight months ago. “It’s about time you got a life of your own. I’m telling you, as soon as this baby’s born you and me—we’re out of here.”
A dull ache gripped her heart. What Lily suggested was impossible.
“You know I can’t leave. Where could I go?” She only just stopped herself from reminding Lily that in the eyes of pure-bred humans she was a monster. Because Lily was pregnant with another such hybrid and no matter how much the other woman professed indifference for the creature she carried, it still possessed half her DNA.
“If you really wanted to escape, you could.” There was a hard note in Lily’s voice. “They don’t own you.”
She knew that and was a little irritated Lily seemed to think otherwise. But it wasn’t that simple. Not just because Rowan owed the Enclave for her existence. She was a dhampir. There was nowhere else she could go.
But Lily was another matter. If she survived the birth—please let her survive the birth—Rowan would do anything to help her friend reunite with her family.
Even if it meant she’d never see her again.
The Elders would never allow Lily to retain her memories of these last few months. It was standard practice to scrub the minds of the human mothers before they were allowed to return to their own lives. She wouldn’t even remember that Rowan had once been her friend.
Pain squeezed her heart. She’d miss her human friend.
There was a knock on the door and Lily sank back onto her chair and stared vacantly into space as one of the doctors entered the room with her medication. Rowan blinked, and her face heated as understanding blasted through her.
She’s faking it.
Rowan grabbed her phone and stared blindly at the screen so her eyes wouldn’t betray her friend.
“Hello, Lily.” The doctor’s words were perfunctory. Lily continued to stare into space. The doctor shot Rowan a glance. “No change?”
She shrugged and concentrated on pretending to read something on her phone. Don’t ask me anything else. She was a terrible liar but luckily the vampire didn’t appear to expect her to have any great insights about the situation. She spoke to Lily as if she was a small child who didn’t understand what was going on. After checking her blood pressure and various other procedures the doctor pressed a variety of pills between Lily’s lips and waited until she obediently swallowed.
As soon as the door shut behind the vampire, Lily turned to her and spat out her pills, one by one, into the palm of her hand.
“Well?” There was an accusing note in the other woman’s voice.
Chills skated over her arms, and Brad’s voice echoed in her head.
Ever wondered what shit they put in this stuff?
“They were medicating you into that zombie state?” Why would they do that? After she’d brought Lily here, on the brink of death, their medical expertise had saved her. They’d kept her in a coma so her body could recover and then they’d woken her and looked after her.
By that time Lily Cartwright, university undergraduate and only daughter of a prominent High Court judge had been declared missing, presumed dead. It was another two months before Lily had regained enough strength to demand to go home and by then it was too late.
As a result of the attack, and the growing baby, her blood was poisoned. Termination was too dangerous and only the continued medical intervention of the Enclave’s doctors was keeping her alive. Once the baby was born her blood would return to normal and then the Enclave would be able to repair her damaged face.
That’s what the doctors had told Rowan when she’d asked. They’d seemed surprised by her questions, as though they didn’t understand her concern for a human. Then again, she’d never asked after the other women she had saved.
Had their blood also been poisoned? Was it an inevitable side effect of incubating a dhampir?
Why didn’t I ever question that before?
Lily’s lip curled in contempt. “A mindless dhampir-maker is easier to control than a human with a fully functioning brain.”
“But why would anyone want to control you?” She was, after all, within two weeks of her delivery date. What did the Electors—all orders came from the Electors—think she was going to get up to in her current condition?
Lily heaved a sigh. “You never cease to amaze me.” It wasn’t a compliment. “Seriously. A year ago, I would’ve laughed myself sick if anyone had told me vampires existed. As for the offspring between a vamp and human, well come on. That’s just something out of a horror movie, right?”
Since that was exactly what Rowan thought, she folded her arms and tried to ignore the pain that pierced through her heart. Lily was human. She regarded her as a friend. And yet even Lily thought she was nothing more than a monster.
She would die, literally die, if Azrael ever discovered her secret and she witnessed the admiration in his eyes turn to disgust.
“Yet here I am.” She heard the defensive note in her voice and made up for it with a scowl.
Lily shook her head. “You’re an assassin. A hunter.” She sounded as though she was ticking off a shopping list. “By rights you should be one hell of a hard-arsed bitch. But you know what? You’re one of the most trusting people I’ve ever met. Y
ou believe anything you’re told.”
The accusation stung. “The hell I do.”
“I’m not going to argue with you. I’m not even saying that, in different circumstances, that’s such a terrible thing. But living here the way you do? I’m telling you, Rowan. You need to start asking some hard questions.”
“For your information, I don’t trust anyone.” Apart from Brad. After their conversation the other night, where he’d all but accused his friend Alex of being an accessory to the murder of his lover, she was no longer sure about Meg, which hurt more than she’d ever let on.
“I know.” Lily didn’t appear to realize she had just contradicted herself. “That’s not what I mean. You’re half vampire, sure. But I think you’re a lot more like your mother than you give yourself credit for.”
“What?” This conversation was spinning into the surreal. “How can you even say that?”
“Her journal.” Lily sounded surprised by the question. “Sometimes it was just like I was reading something you might have written. Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed?”
She wasn’t like her mother at all. Her mother had been human. And she was only a hybrid.
“My mother was a medical student at Great Ormond Street.” How different could they get? Her mother’s ambition had been to save sick children. Rowan killed enemies of the Enclave.
Lily heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I mean she believed everything this lot told her. Why do you think they let her keep her journal? Why do you think you were allowed to inherit it? Because she never said a word against them.” Lily gripped the arms of her chair and leaned forward. “Until her final entry. The one where she listed all the reasons why she wanted her daughter to be called Rowan.”
To keep the dead from rising.
Unease trickled over her arms. That sentence had always haunted her, but she’d never raised it with anyone. Certainly not Meg, who’d looked after her since birth and presented her with the journal on her seventh birthday with the strict instruction to keep it safe.