Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark #1)(62)
Author: Gena Showalter

Anger radiated from him, shaming her. “Isn’t that what you wanted me to think?”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to do it.”

“Well. Hmm. Maybe I didn’t. I mean, I don’t actually recall ever saying anything about the stupid plan you refused to share with me until too late.”

“You thought it. There’s no denying that.”

Being with a man incapable of telling a lie—a whole lot of awesome. Being with a man who could taste when you lied—sucked the big one. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve never had someone protect me before. This is new to me.”

He got in her face, his warm breath mingling with hers. “Are you truly sorry for your wrongful beliefs, or are you merely sorry I deduced the truth? Think about that while we’re apart. And when next you see me, apologize again and mean it.” With that, he strode from the room, Amun and Haidee following behind him.

Annabelle studied the remaining occupants. Immediately they all spun innocently away, some even whistling under their breath, others checking their cuticles.

This was gonna be fun.

And yes, that was sarcasm at its finest.

* * *

I DESERVE THIS, ZACHAREL thought darkly. He so deserved a woman who would give him as much trouble and grief as he had given his Deity. But his new army was supposed to teach him this lesson, not his lover.

And she was his lover, despite the fact that they had yet to consummate their relationship. He would tolerate nothing less. But oh, how he missed the days of ignorant bliss, when he hadn’t known the pleasure to be found in a soft, warm body. When he had not known the driving force of anger.

Yes, anger.

Anger was like fear, and he did not have to act on it. He could ignore it. Had ignored it, for the most part. But the fissure inside his chest was close to bursting. Annabelle had doubted his integrity, and he had wanted so badly to spank her. Perhaps scream at her. Instead, he had cringed at the very idea of hurting her feelings and making her cry, and so he had done nothing.

“I’ve got a little piece of advice for you.” Haidee kept pace beside him. Once a Hunter and a keeper of Hate, she now carried a pinch of Hadrenial’s love, all because of Zacharel’s split-second decision to save her.

A mistake, perhaps. Looking at her now hurt. But he’d wanted her to live, her loss too much for Amun to bear, the warrior’s grief reminding Zacharel of his own after Hadrenial’s demise, and “sharing the love,” as the humans like to say, had been the only way.

“I have no need of your advice,” he said.

They pounded down the VIP stairs and into the main part of the club, where Thane, Xerxes and Bjorn waited with Axel.

Axel, another of Zacharel’s warriors. “I hear it’s party time,” he said with his usual irreverent grin.

“Only if you consider the torture of another a party.”

“Uh, isn’t that the classic definition?”

Until Jamila was found, this man would be her replacement. Perhaps not the wisest choice, Zacharel thought now.

Concentrate. Burden was pinned to the wall with daggers. A wad of fabric had been stuffed inside his mouth, but his watchful gaze spoke for him. He hated Zacharel, and would have given anything to kill him.

Soon, Burden would want to die himself. Demons could not be killed if they possessed a human, but one of the pitfalls was that they could be easily bound, and they could feel pain. Lots and lots of pain.

“Just a sec,” Haidee said, stepping in front of Zacharel to claim his attention. “I’ve decided to give you my amazing advice anyway, because I owe you one. And before you decide to doubt me no matter what I say, I’ll tell you that Amun read your Annabelle’s mind.”

Amun, the keeper of Secrets. He could speak, but didn’t, because all the secrets he’d unearthed over the centuries would spill from his lips unbidden.

“You did not harm Annabelle’s mind?” he demanded. Amun could do more than read minds; he could steal memories, ripping them out of their hosts.

The warrior shook his head—then flipped him off. No need for an interpreter. He did not like that Zacharel had questioned his honor.

“Tell me whatever you wish, Haidee, but make it quick.” Zacharel glared down at her.

Ever gentle, she cupped his cheeks. “I can read Amun’s mind, which means I know what he knows, and what he knows is that your woman needs to be one of the most important things in your life. Above your job, definitely. Her brother turned his back on her, and her boyfriend dumped her. She hasn’t experienced unconditional love in so long, you’ll crush her if you keep her without committing to her.”

“I have committed to her,” he protested. After what they’d done in bed, he’d more than committed. He’d decided to keep her. “Besides that, her spirit is strong. No one could crush—” I could, he realized. Annabelle had trusted him at her most vulnerable—until he’d walked away—something she would not have done if some part of her heart were not engaged. She was falling for him, just as he was falling for her.

If he wasn’t careful with her, he would hurt her worse than she’d ever been hurt, commitment or not.

“I will consider your words.”

“Good. You don’t, and I’ll hook her up with Kane. Or Torin. I like her, and both men need a good woman to—”

Zacharel snapped his teeth at her before stalking across the dance floor to his men and his prey.

I see the Lords came through for you, Thane said inside his head.

“There’s no need to hide our words now,” he replied aloud. “Amun can hear what we think.”

Horror descended over Thane’s, Xerxes’ and Bjorn’s expressions. Axel wiggled his brows at Amun and said, “Like what you hear? I’m thinking special thoughts just for you.”

Amun frowned.

Before war could erupt, Zacharel said, “Amun will not pry, and as long as you keep your minds blank, he will hear nothing from you.”

Amun nodded to support his claim.

After a long pause, three of the men nodded in return, though they merely gave a stiff bow of their heads. Axel blew Haidee a kiss.

Wonderful. “Now, then. Let’s do what we came to do.” Zacharel reached out and removed the fabric from Burden’s mouth.

“You look just like him, you know,” the demon said without preamble, smug, so smug. “I wonder…would you scream just like him?”

Do not take the bait. “Who?” he found himself asking, despite the fact that he knew the answer. Surely the demon would not dare to go there.