Her Black Wings (The Dark Amulet Series Book 1) (19 page)

CHAPTER

FIFTY-FOUR

Amalya

At nightfall, Elliott removed the splint from her wing. He said the soreness would go away in a day or two. Amalya paced the bedroom waiting for him to emerge from the shower. When he had slipped behind the bathroom door, she saw his back wounds had not healed yet. This had to be a good sign.

Impatient, she knocked on the door. “Elliott?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I have to pee, come on…open up.” She didn’t have to pee, only needed an excuse to see him naked. She’d grown to appreciate the work of art he referred to simply as his body. Even though he’d rejected her, she still found the bastard attractive. She barged in just as he was about to wrap a towel around his waist.

Her eyes found his maleness. She really was messed up. Oh, and she was also mostly naked, having refused to continue wearing the tunic any longer. She did have on a new pair of panties though.

He crossed his eyes when he saw her. “You couldn’t wait could ya? I thought you had to pee?” He brushed past her into the bedroom.

Following him out, she knelt on the bed, palms on her knees. The position squeezed her cleavage together. When he turned around, he gasped.

“Amalya…
oh
, you’re killing me.” Something was muttered under his breath and he looked up at the ceiling. “This wasn’t what you meant, was it, Deus?”

“Talking to yourself are you?” She smirked. “Hey, you’re the one who rejected me, remember?”

He groaned. “You wouldn’t let me explain.”

“Well, explain it now. I had a really bad night and your rejection was—”

“I wasn’t rejecting you. Can you stop using that word?” Ambling over to her, he sat on the end of the bed.

She sighed sarcastically. “Fine. Your blow off sucked. Is that better?”

He flopped back on the mattress. “No. It’s not better. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Then what is your problem?” She inched closer to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He quivered from the touch.

“Nothing. My head wasn’t right. I went to see the Healer.”

Her brows knitted together. “The what?”

“Never mind. Tell me about your night. Starting with Eternity.”

“I don’t wanna talk about that. I got the name of Aba’s soul—”

“What?” He bolted from the bed, the towel peeling off his hips. “You went to see him?”

She scooted to the edge of the bed. “Yes, but—”

“Are you crazy?”

Her eyes widened. “No. It’s just…I couldn’t deal with the other soul.”

“Why? Deus isn’t going to give you something you can’t handle,” he said slapping his hands on his bare thighs. Naturally, her eyes were drawn to his cock.

“Well, he did.”

“And you think the soul the lord of the flies picked out would be a better choice? Come
on
, you have to be smarter than this, Amalya!”

“Why don’t you just tell me how you really feel. That I’m a huge fucking idiot!” She got off the bed like she had somewhere to go. There were no other places, she was stuck. And wasn’t this just fantastic? Nearly naked with black wings and an angel who wanted her, but couldn’t bring himself to be with her on account of how stupid he thought she was.

He threw his hands up again and sighed. “You’re not an idiot. I didn’t say you were.”

“No, I just have an infectious disease.”

They stood staring at each other. Onyx eyes searched her face. The intensity of his gaze made Amalya look away first. She walked to the dresser and placed her hands on the top, all the while knowing Elliott watched her.

“I need some clothes,” she said quietly. She hoped talking nice to the piece of furniture would produce a pair of jeans or a bra. The free range tit routine was getting old.

Elliott had become so quiet she wondered if she turned around he would still be there. A soft caress of her feathers startled her. Instinctively she pulled her wings in tight. The gentle petting stopped. She felt colder for having made it end and shivered.

“I’ll get you some clothes.” The air changed when he started to pull away.

“No. I mean, not right now,” she sighed. “Will you let me tell you what hap—?”

His hand smoothed over the back of hers, spreading the fingers. The comfort was astounding. The angel murmured her name. “Later.” He whispered taking her hand. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“You yelled?”

“Yeah, and asked if you were crazy and called you stupid.” He gave her a sheepish grin as he stepped backward, giving her some space.

“Oh, so you admit it?” Parting her wings, she sat on the bed with her feet on the floor. He knelt in front of her, slipping his hands along her thighs and up to the waistband of her cotton panties.

“May I take these off, please?” He looked up at her, his lids heavy.

“You want to have sex
now
? I thought you said I was full of Taint. Aren’t you afraid I’m catchy?”

He chuckled. “You’re not contagious. It doesn’t work like that. Pure Taint is only from the source. He has to kiss you. It’s like venom.”

Oh great. How lovely.

“Um…”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Guilt strings knotted around her heart. Telling him about the recent kiss was decidedly a poor idea. And she even bit him. Drew blood. What was that going to do?

Elliott was an angel, therefore he must have good Taint in him, right? Was there such a thing? Maybe it would counteract…oh God…first wings, now shit…who knew? Elliott kissed each thigh and slipped her underwear down. She lifted her bottom to make it easier for him to get them off.

“Is there good Taint?”

“What?” he snorted. “No. Lie back.”

Oh.
Ohhh.

“Nothing like that?” she asked as she scooted up the bed.

“Shhh…”

The mattress depressed between her legs where he positioned himself. He loomed over her, his arousal teasing her opening.

“Nothing?”

“You’re starting to ruin the mood,” he joked. “I have light,” he said as he joined them together.

“Can you give me some…ahhhh.” He thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around the back of his head and pulled him down to her lips. He didn’t hesitate when he kissed her—on the mouth, this time. His tongue glided past her lips.

He moaned. “You feel so good.” She’d heard this line hundreds of times from many men but never had she believed the words until now.

Her back arched, begging for him to pay attention to her swells. He took the hint and licked her breast, claiming a nipple and sucking, then switching to the other side. Kissing up to her neck, he nipped sweet love bites.

Easing his hips back, he pulled out to the tip.

Noooo.

“Where are you go—?”

He thrust back inside all the way to the hilt. Over and over he did this until she was screaming and grabbing his ass. A hand snaked under her and squeezed one of her bottom cheeks. He slammed into her on a smooth stroke.

“Elliott! Oh God!”

His dark eyes flashed brightly for a brief moment.

What…was that?

Her expression must have asked the question.

“My light. It happens sometimes.” He closed his eyes and continued to pump inside of her. They panted in the same rhythm. Give. Take. Give. Take. In. Out. In. Out. Before long they were covered in a sheen of sweat. He rose up and pressed his fists into the bed, letting his powerful hips swing freely. Veins in his neck, across his strong shoulders, and down his biceps were popping out. She gripped his arms. The kind of grip that would cause bruises. If he noticed, he didn’t care. She screamed as a burst of pleasure racked her body. He rode out the waves of her climax. Her body went lax, but he didn’t stop.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna come.” He pounded into her with a frenzy, sucking in air through his teeth. “Oh,” he grunted. Then cursing, he released into her. After he was spent, he carefully pulled out and laid next to her, his breathing still rapid and catching in the back of his throat.

Amalya blew out a breath. She felt like she needed to say something. “Um…”

He rolled to his side and raised his eyebrows in question. When she didn’t say anything he smirked and eased onto his back again.

She plucked one of her under feathers. Her intent was to use the downy quill to tickle him. He tightened his six-pack as she ran it down the middle, starting at the top of his sternum. When she circled his navel he laughed. She reveled in his joy with a wide grin. So, of course, she had to try and destroy their bliss.

Folding her legs under her, she sat up. “Aba kissed me when I went to him about the soul.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Argh!”

“I’m sorry, I was trying…well, I bit him,” she said leaning over him.

The chuckle which left his mouth surprised her. “You
bit
him?”

“He broke my wing and used that mind-control thing on me. I was pissed.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is it worse than his Taint? He bled a little. Will I grow a tail?”

Please don’t let me sprout a tail.

He laughed again. “I don’t think so. Oh wait, uh…I think I see…” His expression was serious.

“Nooo!” Fear panged her gut. She turned her head around like a dog would chase their tail and felt the base of her spine. The skin was smooth.

“You’re such a jerk.” She held his balls in warning but didn’t hurt him.

“O-okay, I’m sorry.” His hands automatically became protective of his man parts. He relaxed when she removed her hand.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Amalya, are you ever going to tell me what happened with Brandon? What’s got you so spooked?”

“When I died, there was this little boy…he saw the whole thing. He was Reed’s victim also.”

His face scrunched up. “Reed?”

“Yeah. Anyway, now he’s messed up from it. I didn’t stick around to find out the specifics of his crossroad. Seeing him freaked me out.”

“Tell me about Reed,” he said.

“Why? He’s dead. I ran his ass over. Hope he’s rotting in Hell. Can’t even imagine—”

“What was his last name?”

Amalya shrugged. “Beats me. I didn’t ask. I just wanted a ride.”

“What did he look like? Can you describe him?”

She looked at him. “I don’t know…dishwater blond, dirty fingernails, had gaps between his front four teeth. Oh, and I remember he sucked his lips and had a chapped skin ring around his mouth because of it.” At each point in the description Elliott’s eyes widened.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he took even, short breaths in and out of his nose.

“What is it, did you know him?” She rubbed his forearm. His whole body had tensed.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, maybe it’s not the same guy. He was about fifty years old.”

He made an exasperated noise. A chuckle without humor. Then his hands went into a praying position. The first two fingers resting on his forehead. “Age sounds about right. I knew him when he was a child, then as a teenager.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing I want to talk about and something I wanna forget,” he said, massaging the center of chest.

“Okay, I understand. I’m the same way. Although it might help if—”

“It won’t.” He ran his palms down his face.

How was she going to save her soul now?

CHAPTER

FIFTY-FIVE

Amalya

Amalya pulled on the black jeans Elliott gave her. The low backed t-shirt hugged her waist but she felt complete, almost human. The dear-heart her angel had turned out to be also gave her a pair of pink Converse low tops. Now she was ready to face Aba’s chosen soul. This was what she told herself. The truth wasn’t even close.

She took out a pad of paper and a pen from the kitchen drawer marked
‘Junk,’
and scrawled the name Damien Stone, concentrating on each letter, tracing over each loop and the dot above the letter “I.”

Poof.

She ended up in a dim one-car garage, inside a nineties Cutlass with tinted windows. Remaining in the shadows of the backseat, the man behind the wheel didn’t see her. She kept quiet, barely breathing. The engine roared to life and the garage door opened. Headlights came on and the vehicle backed down the driveway, speeding off with a squeal. The car flew around the corner at the end of the street, knocking her around. Amalya knew cars and the V6 had great pick-up. This was fun. She liked Damien already. She stayed below the headrests, not wanting to reveal herself yet.

They drove for a while, zipping down roads, making lots of rights and lefts. A final turn was made and he slowed. They puttered along a residential street. He seemed to know where he was going, not craning his neck trying to find an address. He pulled into a driveway and got out of the car.

An elderly woman answered the door of a cozy ranch-style home. The type with red brick and a large front living room window overlooking the street. They spoke through the screen door for a few minutes, but Amalya couldn’t hear what they were saying. Once he was invited inside, Amalya crept out the other side of the car. Quietly as possible she shut the door. It latched but didn’t close all the way. She leaned into the door with her hip.

There.
Stupid door.

Tiptoeing up to a window on the side of the house, she got a view of the thirtyish man and a woman who looked old enough to be Colonel Sanders’ mom. The bright yellow kitchen assaulted her eyes, forcing her to look away.

The old lady’s gravelly voice caught her attention and she refocused.

“Just put the packages on the counter over there,” she told him. Opening her purse, she took out her wallet. “Thank you. Now, I have a few dollars, how much money did you say he owes you?”

Damien waved away her offer.

Good boy. Definitely hope for him.

“Well, it’s really not just about how much he owe. It’s the principles, Angela.” He walked around the kitchen stopping in front of the refrigerator and opened it. The man leaned down, shoving around Tupperware containers and glass jars on the shelves. Her impression from the lengthy conversation on the porch had been he didn’t know the old lady. Now he was going through her fridge?

“Oh, I’m sure he intends to pay you back. Such a nice young man.” Angela didn’t appear to mind Damien’s rummaging. She handed him items to put away from plastic grocery bags. She talked absently about how when her husband got home, he would be so happy everything had been put away and wouldn’t that be wonderful? The chatter lasted for the duration of the clean-up.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll wait for him to get home.” Damien took out a pack of Marlboro Reds from his front t-shirt pocket and tapped the box on his palm to pack the tobacco. He unwrapped it, plucked a cigarette out, and lit up. On the first drag, Angela handed him an ashtray.

As Amalya slinked away from the house, headlights turned onto the street. She crouched behind Damien’s car and thought of Brandon.