Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark #1)(91)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Oh, all right. I love you,” she said. “I love you with all my heart.” The first had been grudgingly offered, but the second…adoration had dripped from her voice.

Satisfaction was a sublime avalanche inside him, falling into every part of him, overwhelming him. “You will stay with me always.”

Her somber air returned, and this time, he would bet it was real. “Of course. I won’t break my pledge, but we’ll have to find a way to contain the high lord who wants me. Otherwise, demons will chase me for the rest of my life, and you’ll be in constant danger.”

“Some things are worth any amount of danger.”

“Zacharel,” a hard male voice said from beyond the shower stall. “Something’s happened.”

Annabelle yelped.

Instantly Zacharel’s satisfaction dried up, replaced by fury. With himself, not Koldo. How could he not have heard his soldier enter the bathroom? “Step into the other room. Now.”

No response. No opening and closing of the door, either. But the warrior was no longer there.

Zacharel jerked the towel from the rack at the back of the stall and wrapped the material around Annabelle, unconcerned by the fact that the water would soon soak it.

“Stay here,” he told her, then exited to deal with the latest disaster. And he knew it was a disaster. Nothing else would have brought his warrior here.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

ANNABELLE HEARD MUFFLED MALE voices as she searched the bathroom for something to wear. What she found was two washrags and another towel. Not exactly appropriate attire for a meeting with angels. But if she had to pretend dishrag was the latest style, she would. She wouldn’t remain in here like a shameful secret.

Zacharel must have sensed her growing frustration and determination, because he opened the door, peeked inside, winked and tossed in a robe before once again disappearing.

She sighed dreamily, still reeling from what she and Zacharel had done and admitted to each other. Oh, she’d already realized he’d fallen in love with her, but there was something so magnificent about hearing the words. Of knowing, beyond any doubt, that she, Annabelle Miller, had tamed such an exquisite animal. An ice-cold warrior that possessed a streak of carnality that, once unleashed, would never again be caged.

Shaking, she tugged the white material over her body and exited the bathroom.

“—have found Unforgiveness,” Koldo was saying.

Her gaze immediately sought Zacharel. He, too, wore a robe. Lamplight gilded his exposed skin, her angel now a golden statue of perfection and might.

Zacharel watched her rather than his soldier and motioned her over. But apparently standing at his side wasn’t close enough, because he wound his arm around her waist and tugged her so close they practically melded together.

When neither man seemed inclined to restart the conversation, she decided to do it herself. “So where is Unforgiveness and what’s the game plan?”

A beat of tense silence, then, “Hell,” Koldo announced. “He is in hell, and he claims he will release you from his bond if Zacharel agrees to fall.”

Ice thickened Annabelle’s blood, scraping against her veins, stinging. “No way. Just no way.” He would lose his immortality. He would lose his ability to see—and fight—demons. But they wouldn’t lose their ability to see and fight him. “He’s not falling.” To Zacharel, she added, “You’re not falling. Why would the demon want you to fall, anyway?”

“I’ll be easier to kill, less a thorn in his side. But you do not get to decide this for me, Annabelle.”

“You’d be the stupidest man ever to live if you agreed to this. He’s lying. You know he’s lying. He’ll never willingly release me.” That was just a guess on her part, but one thing she knew: demons were incapable of telling the truth.

“For a chance to free you, I would do anything.”

“No!” The fact that Zacharel would even consider falling upset her. Any other girl probably would have jumped with joy, because such a sacrifice proved beyond words that her man loved her. But Annabelle wasn’t any girl, and she knew everything falling would entail. Not just Zacharel’s ruination, but his men’s, too.

He would never be able to forgive himself. He’d already lost his brother, and the fact that he’d been the one to render the final blow was a constant dagger inside his chest, eternally chafing, never allowing him to heal.

“We’re wasting time,” she said. “I want you to go to your Deity—and not fall!”

“So what would you have me do?”

“Ask him to do something, I don’t know, powerful. Mighty.”

He shook his head, dark hair dancing at his temples. “I am due punishment, not aid. Besides, all he can do is grant me permission to enter hell, and that will do us no good.”

“Punishment?” Her heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

His hold on her tightened, his way of saying, Not now, woman. Later. In answer, she pinched his hand. Her way of saying, I won’t let this go, angel.

She twisted, cupped his cheeks and forced him to peer down at her. “Remember what we talked about?” she asked, letting the words locking Unforgiveness away remain unsaid. “Why it’s so important to go that route? So talk to your Deity, okay? Please. He gave you an army, a promotion. Angry with you or not, there’s got to be something more he can do.”

He opened his mouth—to protest, she knew.

“If you don’t, someone else might find and defeat Unforgiveness.” If that happened, she would die, and Zacharel would blame himself.

Indecision played through his eyes, now a stormy jade. She was manipulating him, and she knew it, but she didn’t know what else to do. She would rather he fought Unforgiveness than lose everything.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said.

“Please, Zacharel. Do this for me. For us. Koldo will stay with me.”

He massaged the back of his neck. “Very well. I will talk to the Deity, but I cannot promise a favorable outcome.” His gaze slid to the tall, strong warrior beside them. “Stay here. Guard her. I won’t be gone long.”

Yes!

Koldo nodded.

“I love you,” Zacharel said, and kissed her.

“I love you, too. So much.”

He paused for a moment, as though he couldn’t bear to leave her, then flared his wings and leapt through the air, through the ceiling, disappearing from view.