Kristina Douglas - The Fallen 1 - Raziel (18 page)

“I’l give you this night, Raziel,” Azazel said. “But no one is to let her move around the compound without a guard. We cannot afford to take any risks. If she’s human, we need to discover if she was sent by Uriel. If she’s a demon . . . kil her. Do you understand?”

“I believe I’ve never been particularly slow,” I said, keeping my anger in check. “If you think I’d have any hesitation about destroying a demon, then you don’t know me very wel .”

“In the meantime, no one is to disturb them unless Raziel cal s for help,” Azazel warned the others.

“And what if she’s simply an ordinary human woman, unfairly judged by Uriel, who has thrown herself on our mercy?” Sarah demanded.

“We can’t afford to have mercy when Uriel shows none. Whether he’s behind this woman’s presence here or not, we can’t let down our guard.”

I looked at Azazel’s stony face. He was right, of course. I knew it, Sarah knew it. I pushed back from the table, letting no expression cross my face. “I wil let you know,” I said, and left the room.

I stopped four flights up, final y alone in the dimly lit stairwel . I leaned back against the wal , closing my eyes. I didn’t want to touch her. She was everything I wanted to keep away from—I didn’t want her mouth or her body, I didn’t want her soul or her heart. It would have been so easy to get rid of her. To say nothing. Even Sarah had been helpless to stop the inexorable judgment.

I could see her, practical y feel her beneath my hands, her breasts, the sweet taste of her skin. It burned inside me. At least my own thoughts and fantasies were shielded from her inquisitive mind. It was the only thing that made the hunger bearable.

I shoved away from the wal , furious with myself. Who the hel did I think I was? I had never shied from a task before, and this was simple enough. Touch her, look into her eyes, and I would know. If the answer was the wrong one, I would snuff out her already dubious existence. I put my hand on the railing and closed my eyes, listening for her.

And then I flew.

I
WAS GOING TO FALL, I KNEW IT. MY hands were numb and slippery with sweat, and even though I’d managed to gain a tiny bit of purchase on the masonry with my bare foot, it wasn’t enough to hold me. It was a long way down.
How many times can a woman die?
I thought wildly. This time there wouldn’t be any coming back from it—if you died in heaven, or whatever the hel this place was, then you must be real y dead.

Maybe Raziel could get out of trouble by scooping up my dead body and dropping it into that hole in the middle of nowhere. Would I perk up once I was roasting in hel , or was I going to be lucky enough for a big fat nowhere?

I didn’t want to die. Not again. I didn’t want an endless night, silence, nothingness. I wanted whatever I could grab at, food, sex, music, laughter. But my fingers were slipping, my foot lost what smal hold it had, and I felt myself let go, fal ing backward into the darkness, the brightness of the stars overhead the last thing I was going to see.

And then something moved in front of them, the dark iridescent blue of death, I thought dreamily, when death should have been black, and I smiled. It wasn’t pain after al ; it felt as if I were being cradled in someone’s arms. If this was death, then I shouldn’t have been afraid of it. It felt safe, warm, as if I were exactly where I belonged and—

Bright light slammed into my eyes, and I let out a howl as I put up my arm to cover them as someone dumped me on my back. Maybe I was going to end up in hel after al , I thought grumpily, refusing to move my arm. If I didn’t look, maybe it would al go away.

But curiosity had always been a character defect, and the sound of his footsteps was enough to make me move my arm and look. I was back in the apartment, on one of the pristine sofas, and Raziel was just slamming the window shut before turning to look at me, furious. As usual.

“How big an idiot are you?”

I ignored him, sitting up and looking around me with a blazing smile. “I’m not dead,” I announced.

“That depends on your definition,” he said, moving to the door. So he was going to abandon me as quickly as he’d saved me. I couldn’t complain—it was better than being smashed to bits on the terrace below.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. He simply locked the door. I was going to point out that it was already hermetical y sealed, but figured he knew what he was doing. He waved his hand and the lights dimmed, and I wondered whether it was cosmic power or some kind of motion sensor. A celestial Clapper. “What did you think you were doing?”

Wel , at least he was talking to me. “I just wanted some fresh air,” I said hopeful y. “Someone locked me in, and I don’t like being shut up. I’m claustrophobic.”

“No you’re not. Not anymore. You were looking for a way to get downstairs, weren’t you? So you could see what was going on.” Ah, he knew me too wel . Already. “Curiosity is not a trait we value in Sheol. You’re lucky I came in time.”

“Yeah, what about that?” I said in a calm voice. “I thought you knew what I was thinking. I was sending you every distress signal I could come up with. Why didn’t you come?”

“If I had to spend al my time in your convoluted mind, I’d immolate myself,” he said. “I’d prefer to keep away, but I was coming up here anyway and I thought I’d find out whether you were asleep or not.”

“Hardly asleep. I haven’t had dinner yet.”

It was too dark to see if he rol ed his eyes, but I had the definite impression that he’d done the angelic equivalent of it. “You don’t need to eat as often here.”

“It’s not a question of need, it’s a question of want. I eat for the same reason I read. Not for nourishment, but for sensual pleasure,” I said brightly. And then regretted it. Mentioning sensual pleasure opened up a subject that was far too sensitive, as far as I was concerned. I didn’t want him wandering around inside my mind, reading my irrational and badly banked desires.

He was holding himself very stil , looking at me, and there was something in the air, a tension that slid beneath my skin. I could feel my heart beating, not the terrified flutter of minutes ago as I’d faced death, but a slow, relentless thudding that seemed almost audible.

Damn
, I thought.

He made a gesture, and the lights in the kitchen dimmed. The room fil ed with shadows, making me even more nervous. “You know, a gas fireplace would be nice in here,” I said in a conversational tone, trying to lessen the tension that rippled beneath the surface. “It would make it cozy.”

I half-expected him to wave his arm and a magic fireplace to appear, and then I shook myself. He wasn’t a genie, granting my three wishes. Though I wasn’t sure exactly what he was, at least as far as I was concerned.

“Since even a match could end up destroying me, I don’t find fireplaces cozy at al . You’l have to do without one.”

I’d forgotten. “Good point,” I said brightly, trying not to look at him.

I’d always had a healthy interest in sex, in men, but more often than not I found better things to do. I had better orgasms on my own, something that would doubtless shock the slightly prudish Raziel, and I’d often found boyfriends not worth the trouble. So why did I suddenly have to become obsessed with someone?

“I’m not prudish.”

“Shit!” I shrieked as if I’d been pinched. I could feel the color flood my face. How could I have forgotten? His ability to hear my thoughts was almost the worst thing about this entire experience.

“Worse than dying?”

“Stop it!” I snapped, thoroughly flustered.

“How are your hands? Are you hurt?”

I looked down at them. My fingers were red, cramped, and I pushed off from the couch. “Fine,” I said. “I’l just run some water over them.” I wanted to get away from his far-too-observant eyes.

“You don’t need to.”

He was standing between me and the kitchen, effectively blocking the way. “I think that’s my decision,” I said, trying to circumvent him.

He was too big to get around. Before I could guess his intention he’d taken both my hands in his, and his touch zinged through my arms like an electric shock. I jumped back, tripping over my own bare feet in my effort to get away from him.

He caught my elbow as I fel , righting me, then releasing me immediately. “You’re very clumsy, aren’t you?” he observed.

It didn’t do any good to guard my tongue—he already knew what I was thinking. “You make me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Let me count the ways,” I said. “You’re a guardian angel who tried to toss me into the flames of hel ; you’re a vampire; you think I’m a pain in the butt; and if it weren’t for you, I’d be alive and living in New York City, minding my own business.”

For a moment he said nothing. Then he spoke. “First of al , I’m not a guardian angel, not yours or anyone’s. Guardian angels don’t exist

—they’re just folklore.”

“Sure they are. Like vampires.”

He ignored that. “Second, you are most definitely a pain in the butt. You’ve disrupted my life as badly as I’ve disrupted yours—”

“I doubt that,” I broke in dryly.

“Let me finish. If it were not for me, you’d be in hel right now. You were scheduled to die, and nothing can contravene that. Normal y you would have simply ended up in the dark place. Most people don’t have escorts, only the ones Uriel deems necessary. I have no idea why he thought you were so important—at first glance, you seem ordinary enough.”

“Thanks so much,” I said.

“But he had something in mind. You must have offended him with your books. Uriel is easily offended.”

“I’m harmless,” I protested, ful y believing it.

“I doubt that. As for my being a blood-eater, that is no concern of yours. It has nothing to do with what is between us.”

His words gave me an uncomfortable jolt. “What’s between us?

There’s nothing between us.”

“Of course there is.” He moved away from me then, and I found I could breathe normal y again. Or at least more normal y. Apparently I’d been holding my breath, though I wasn’t quite sure why.

I could see him quite wel through the thick shadows. The light from the bedroom pooled at the entrance to the main room, and I could see the glitter of his strange eyes, the expression of weariness across the elegant lines of his face. He pushed his hair away from his face, as if pushing something unacceptable away from him. And then he lifted his head to look at me.

And I knew what was coming next, as clearly as if I’d thought of it myself.

“No,” I said flatly.

A faint smile curved his mouth. “No, what? I didn’t ask you anything.”

“Just no,” I said, refusing to show how nervous he made me. I moved, suddenly busy. “Do you have extra sheets, maybe a pil ow? I can make up the couch for the night until we find someplace else for me to sleep. I certainly don’t want to drive you out of your bedroom, though you were very kind to have brought me in there last night. At least, I assume it was you—maybe Sarah was responsible, which is very like her. She’s quite kind, and I’m sorry I ever suggested she was—”

“Be quiet, Al ie,” he said.

It was the first time he’d used my name. Not my ful name, but the more familiar nickname. I froze, my words vanishing, as if he’d shut them off with a wave of his hand as he had the lights.

He approached me slowly, and a part of me wanted to run. Not that there was any place to go except straight off the balcony. He’d locked the front door. Why?

He stopped directly in front of me, too close for me to escape, crowding me and yet not touching me. “Look at me,” he said in a low, soothing voice.

“I am.”

He shook his head and made another gesture, and overhead lights I hadn’t known existed blazed on. They should have been blinding, but I was already in some kind of daze. “Open your eyes and look at me,” he said again, and his soft voice had steel beneath it.

So I did. Looked up into his gloriously striated eyes, almost like those of a cat. Looked up and felt him invade me, as surely as if he had me underneath him, skin to skin. He was inside me, an act of complete possession, and I tried to say something, to protest, but al that came out was a soft, defensive mew of pain. He didn’t retreat, and I felt staked, like a butterfly with a giant pin through my heart. I could feel my body lift, rise slightly, and I knew I was no longer touching the floor. I tried to push him out, but he was much too strong to fight. Al I could do was remain there, suspended, as he scoured my body, and I felt a scream inside my chest, my heart, desperate to escape.

And then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over, and he released me. The bright lights vanished, my feet touched the floor, and I col apsed, nerveless.

He caught me as I fel , and I wanted to scream at him, to hit him, but I couldn’t summon the energy. He set me down on the sofa with unexpected gentleness. “Lie down,” he murmured. “It wil pass in a moment.”

I had no choice. I lay back, trying to catch my breath, trying to fight the sharp pain between my breasts, as if he’d caught my heart in his fist and squeezed it. I closed my eyes, and felt everything begin to fade. I had long enough to wonder if I was dying al over again, if Raziel had done something to end me. And then darkness came down.

I
SAT BACK ON THE SOFA ACROSS from her, watching her. Even in the shadowy light she was color against the soothing white, the richness of her thick brown hair, the warm tones of her skin, the black silk of the clothes she’d taken from me. She was heat, she was fire, deadly to me, and yet somehow irresistible.