Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (10 page)

"I did," he muttered. Then a howl resounded from the
back of the store. Oz frowned. "Princess didn't like me getting up
so early. She's really not too fond of this 'school' business."

Another howl. Oz shook his head. "I'll feed you in a
second, cat!" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh gees."

I grinned. "Oh gees?"

"What?" He asked.

"I just can't believe I just heard a demon say 'oh
gees.' And I can't believe I'm dating a guy who says things like
that."

"We are dating now, aren't we?" He said it sweetly,
and I immediately felt bad for chiding him. He didn't seem to mind
it, though. A private smile curled his lips. He swallowed and took
a hesitant step forward to catch my hands.

Behind us I heard a cough. "Will you remove the
poppet, please?" The angel asked.

Oz's eyes narrowed. "And why should I do that?"

I heard one of the racks behind me squeak. "If
something happens--"

"Nothing will happen here." Oz responded quickly.

The angel sighed. "I'll still stay out here, even if
you remove it."

Oz's grip on me tightened. "I know, but Devi wants to
a have place where you can't go. Don't you think, after all you've
taken from her, that this isn't an absurd request?"

I felt something sweep across my back. The angel's
hand, perhaps, or the wind.

"Alright." the angel said.

I didn't look back as Oz ushered me inside. I knew
exactly what expression would be on the angel's face because it was
the one he always had. And I knew, also, that it would hurt to look
at him. I projected too much into those empty eyes, his thin lips,
that unmoving posture. I couldn't stand how alone he was. Whenever
I saw him I felt like he should be sad, and knowing he wasn't and
would never be, made me feel like some part of me was quietly
dying--the part that was close to Kai.

My brother's face possessed that same eerie
stillness. He only showed emotion when I was upset. He never wept.
Instead, like the angel, he'd only mimicked the pain he knew he
should feel.

Did I ever really know him? Did he have a genuine
connection to anything other than God? Had he loved me as much as I
loved him?

Oz put his hands on my shoulders. He'd moved in front
of me. I wanted to press my face into his chest, but his expression
stopped me.

"Take it off."

It took me a moment to realize what he was referring
to. When I finally did, I realized my fingers had already
protectively wrapped around it. "Why? Forneus told me to never take
the necklace off--"

"You don't need to wear it in here, with me."

I took a step back, and he looked down. "I'm sorry,"
he said softly. "I didn't mean for it to sound that way. I just see
you wearing it and I feel like you're a different person."

The necklace was supposed to make it appear as if I
had a spirit. I didn't know what that looked like, because I
couldn't see spirits, but I suppose Oz and the angel could.

Do you only love me because I don't have a
spirit?

Where had that thought come from? I shivered as I
turned around. "Alright. Help me with the back."

He gently parted my hair. His hands were warm on the
back of my neck, and I felt his breath on my exposed skin.
Soundlessly, he undid the clasp.

"There." He tried to hand the necklace to me.

"Don't give that to me." I said. "I'll break it or
forget about it if it isn't around my neck."

Oz closed his fist around it and put it in his
pocket. "Fine."

When he looked up his signature smile was back on his
face, although it seemed a bit strained. "Do you want to start
working?"

I grinned, hoping it didn't look too desperate. I
didn't want to keep thinking about the angel or the necklace or
even my brother right now. "Alright. What should I do first?"

Oz rested a box on his hip and pointed to the pile
next to him. "I need to bring these to the front and start shelving
the books."

I rolled up my sleeves and bent my knees. "Alright,"
I said as I wrapped my arms around the first box. My knees began to
shake as I stood.

"Let me get that," Oz muttered and grabbed the box
from my grip with his free hand.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be helping!"

"You are," he said.

"No I'm not. You just took away my work."

"Well, I wouldn't be doing this if you weren't here
to cheer me on."

I gave him a perky smile and propped my fist on my
hip. "So I'm a cheerleader now?"

His face looked a little red. Was he blushing? "You
could be. I mean, if you wanted to come to work dressed as one, I
wouldn't stop you."

I stared at him. "There is no way that's going to
happen."

He shook his head. "Alright, alright. Just wanted you
to know that you're free to express yourself."

"By wearing fetish outfits?"

He laughed. "Okay, I guess that didn't sound nearly
as sweet as I thought it did."

My toes curled. Why did his smile always make me want
to...I don't know...express myself by wearing fetish outfits.

Heat scorched my veins.
Calm down, Devi. He can't
read your mind. Probably
.

Unfortunately, he could tell something was up. "Is
there something you want to tell me?"

Not really.

He took a step closer. "You're breathing pretty
heavily."

"I'm just..." I tossed my head side to side, as if
that somehow finished the sentence.

And then the cat wailed.

Oz rested the box on his hip and squinted up the
stairs. "Christ," he muttered. "Could you feed her while I move
these boxes? Until that happens, she's not going to shut up."

"Right on it, boss!" Thank God I had an excuse to
leave the room. I started to salute, decided that was really lame
and incredibly suspicious, and then sprinted up the stairs.

"Food's in the cupboard, next to the bowl," he called
after me.

I groaned when I reached the top of the staircase.
"I'm here to feed you, Princess."

She was waiting for me in the middle of the hallway.
She lifted her haunches, arched her back, and let out a meow as she
stretched out.

"Alright, alright. I'm getting your food."

Meow.

"I'll give you extra kibbles if you shut up."

Meow. Meow.

"That means you should stop, not get louder," I
muttered as I fished through the cupboards for the cat food. I
finally found it--a holistic formula mix in the most ridiculously
ornate canister I'd ever seen in my life. It looked like one of
those elaborate chocolate tins
Godiva
had on display in the
windows--the ones that called to guilty guys as they desperately
searched for an expensive gift for their girlfriend to make up for
the fact that they'd forgotten her birthday.

"You are so loved, Princess."

She head-butted my ankle, then curled herself around
my legs, making it impossible to move. "Damn cat."

She looked up and gave me the stink eye.

"Oops. I mean, oh gees!" I stated exaggeratedly.
"Sorry I offended your sensibilities."

Princess let out one more little yelp as I crouched
down and poured the food. Then, when her bowl was full, she began
to lick my fingers.

"What are you doing, sweetie? That's not food. Don't
you want to eat?"

"She wants you to pet her while she eats," a man's
voice said from behind me.

I spun. "Oh gees, Oz, you startled me." I said as I
stood.

He took a step closer. "Oh gees?"

My face felt hot. "Yeah, uh, I forgive you for using
it earlier. I think I found out why you don't use dirty
words--Princess doesn't like them."

Oz grinned. I had no idea what he was going to say
next, but I knew it wouldn't be good. "And what dirty words were
you saying that Princess didn't like?"

It was as bad as I thought. "Um, you know I can't say
them here, in front of Princess."

He grabbed my hand. "Where are you taking me?" I
laughed as he dragged me down the hall. He opened the last door on
the left, pulled me inside, and shut it.

We were in someone's bedroom--no, not someone's, his.
It was dim and a little sparse. There were some orchids growing
under an artificial lamp in the corner. He had a
Casablanca
poster on the wall, right next to a poster of
Evil Dead II
.
He hadn't made his bed this morning, and his alarm clock hung off
his bedside table, kept off the floor only because the cord was
caught on the drawer handle.

"Won't you tell me what the words were, Devi?"

"It really wasn't that bad."

He smiled. Slowly. "Don't tell me I'm going to have
to use the 'Triple S' to get this out of you."

I frowned. Had I heard him correctly? "Triple X?" He
didn't look anything like Vin Diesel.

"No, Triple S." He kissed my temple. "Sweet,
Sa--"

I yanked my hands from his lose grip and whacked him
in the chest. He stumbled backwards with an awkward expression on
his face, probably from trying not to laugh.

I wasn't laughing, though. "You wouldn't!"

"I so will. Sweet--"

"Okay, okay!" I interrupted. "I said 'damn.' See? Not
that bad."

He rubbed the stubble on the bottom of his chin.
"That is a bit depressing. I thought for sure you must have said
something...dirtier."

"You wish," I replied in the sassiest tone I could
muster. It wasn't very sassy. My heart was pounding and my insides
felt like hot, soupy Jell-O. It should have disgusted me. Instead,
I loved it.

"Do you want to sit?"

I nodded. Then, I realized that the only place to sit
was on his bed.

So I sat on his bed.

The sheets, though unmade, were clean and still
smelled of an Irish flower field, or whatever the commercials for
fabric softener claimed it smelled like. The bed groaned as he sat
an arm's length away.

He looked to the side, not quite to my face. He was
waiting for me to come to him. And so I came.

My fingers slid over his. His hands didn't seem much
larger than mine--just rougher and paler.

"What are you thinking?"

His low voice made my fingertips tingle. I dropped my
head. "You know." I tried to make my voice sound mature and
alluring, but it just sounded childish, and I couldn't even bring
myself to smile.

He tipped up my chin. Our eyes met. He wasn't
laughing, either. His lips parted as he leaned in, closer. His left
hand closed around my left wrist, then his right. His grip was a
little too tight, perhaps, but his lips were soft, almost too soft.
I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. He made a sound low in his
throat. If my hand had been free I would have placed it over his
vibrating skin, then lowered it to feel his heartbeat.

His tongue skirted along my bottom lip. It didn't
seem real--the motion had too much physicality compared to the
heady feelings it elicited from me. And for some reason, those
contradictory sensations made it feel even more lush.

He pushed me onto my back, or maybe I fell. He let go
of my wrist and slipped his hand beneath my shirt.

I didn't have a problem with that. I wanted to be
closer to him. I don't think I could have felt too close. So when
he began to lift my shirt, I fisted his, eager.

Then I looked down.

Oh God, he could see my bra. The pink, poka-dotted
one with a little red bow between both cups topped off with a
strawberry button. Why hadn't the angel said something when I put
it on? Wait, I didn't want the angel to see me undress, so of
course he hadn't looked, unless he did something I'd asked him not
to do. But if he had...

I felt my face breaking out in pink poka dots.

Oz's hand began to slip under the cup. I grabbed it,
stopping him. "Wait."

"What's wrong?" His breath came quickly, too. When I
didn't respond right away, he kissed the underside of my wrist.

"Uh, could you turn around for a second?"
So I can
take this stupid thing off and toss it out the window
.

Oh wait, the angel was out there.

A horrible, horrible image of my bra, sailing through
the sky and landing on the angel's head, assailed me. And then, I
had an even worse thought.

A paralyzing chill sliced through me. "Oz, I need to
ask you something."

He smiled like he was slightly irritated but happy
about it. "Okay. What is it?"

"How good is the angel's hearing?"

He shifted and looked down--not at me, but at some
place beyond the edge of the bed.

I removed my arms from his lose grip and wrapped them
around my chest. "Um, Oz?"

He sighed. "I don't know how to answer that."

That 'paralyzing chill' suddenly felt like a
blizzard. The words Camael spoke to me a few nights ago came back
to haunt me:
God is always watching
.

Oz didn't stop me as I curled up into a ball and
groaned. "It doesn't matter what you say now. I'm going to think
you're lying if you say he can't hear."

His chapped bottom lip brushed my shoulder as he
leaned forward. "I don't know if he can hear or not. My guess is
that he can't, because the barrier Forneus made was strong.
However, he didn't make it with a Power in mind."

"What did he make it for, then?"

"Guardian angels."

My hands crept up my arms, following the trail of
goose bumps that had just formed. "You want to keep people from
their guardian angels?"

He swallowed and stood. The dip in the bed where he'd
been disappeared. I felt even colder.

"I don't want to separate people from them," he
whispered. "But I don't want to look at them, either. Outside these
walls they're everywhere, especially in the city. It's as if every
star in the night sky had fallen and settled in the streets."

"Like fireflies," I murmured.

"No, not like them. They never stop burning. They
never fade."