Dark Kiss Of The Reaper (9 page)

“Grim,” he answered. “Azrael Grim.”

“Appropriate,” she whispered against his skin. He shivered and her pleasure at his response filled her with a sense of empowerment never felt before.

Azrael might be the Angel of Death, but he’d made her fall in love with life all over again.

* * *

“We’re almost there,” Azrael whispered to the lovely creature curled on his lap. He’d already had Pallidus circle the city twice to keep her snuggled against him a little longer. He craved her warmth and perfume like they were drugs.

She stretched, arching against him. He kissed her temple.

Something terrible and wonderful had happened between them already this night. The thought of being without her made him ache and the evening had just begun.

She filled the long empty parts of him. Made his heart beat with purpose. Gave his breath reason. He wanted her, not just in the way a man wanted a woman, but in the way of a being who’d never before understood the possibilities of a future no longer alone.

Companion.

The word kept repeating in his brain. Was such a thing even possible? He couldn’t think about the chance it wasn’t.

“Wherever we are, it looks beautiful.” She leaned forward, watching the cloud cover fray beneath them. “So many lights...it looks like a fairy land.”

Pallidus went lower still. She clapped a hand over her mouth, then pointed. “Is that...it is! The Eiffel Tower!” She turned to him, eyes filled with amazement. “We’re in Paris?”

“Since Pétrus was out, I thought we’d go right to the source.” Pleasing her could easily become his life’s work, so long as she always looked at him that way.

She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I’ve never been out of the state.” Her fingers pressed to her mouth, she kept her gaze on the rising city.

“So beautiful,” she whispered again. Her hand crept down to find his. She wove their finger together, squeezing tight. “I don’t know what to say.” She looked over her shoulder, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

Pallidus set down in a vacant back street and they dismounted. Another curl of fog and Azrael retook his human form.

“Shall we?” He offered her his arm and together they wandered the streets of Paris until Sara’s growling stomach stopped them at a small café.

They ate at a sidewalk table, sitting side by side, laughing, talking and drinking wine. Sara’s fascination with the Parisians walking by kept him smiling. Seeing things through her eyes made him realize how good life was.

“Look at her.” She tapped his arm. “Her dog’s collar matches her purse. They certainly have a sense of style, don’t they?”

He nodded, but truthfully, he had a hard time seeing anyone but her. She was incredible. A bright shining star to his perpetual twilight. He kissed her fingers, knowing it would make her smile.

“You’re a very sweet man.” She dipped her head. A curtain of chestnut silk swung around her shoulders, hiding her hazel eyes. If he painted, she would be the only subject he ever needed.

“You’re a very beautiful woman.”

She blushed, shaking her head. “You’re just flattering me. I’m okay, but not beautiful.”

“No. Flattery implies falsehoods and I would never lie to you.” He caught her gaze and held it, trying to make her see the truth in his eyes. “You
are
beautiful, Sara.”

All traces of happiness left her face. “It’s nice that you think that, but I don’t feel that way.” She twisted her fingers out of his grasp and wrapped her arms around her body. “I’ve been in this skin for thirty-two years. I know I’m not beautiful.”

He moved closer and cradled her face in his hands. “But you are. And anyone who’s made you think otherwise is a fool.” He brushed his mouth across hers. “I would be happy to help you forget them.”

She laughed lightly and covered his hands with hers. “They’ve already begun to fade.” She kissed him back, her berry-flavored tongue teasing his. She sighed, a wonderful sound of soul-deep pleasure.

“Maybe we should think about getting back.” Otherwise, he was going to take her to the nearest hotel and spend the rest of the night giving her reasons to make that sound again. That was as long as he could keep the Darkness under control. She called to that part of him with an almost undeniable fierceness.

“Already?” She looked at her watch. “I guess you’re right. The Eiffel Tower’s probably been closed for hours.”

“We saw it on our way here.”

“I know, but I’d love to stand up there and look out over the city. Seems like a very romantic thing to do.” She shrugged. “Shame to come all this way and not, you know?”

“I agree.” He stood and extended his hand. “Let’s go. I think it’s open into the evening hours.”

She took his hand and stood, then looked at the remains of their meal. “Don’t we need to pay for this?”

He dug in his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills.

“Wow, that’s a lot of money. But it’s all American—” she fell silent as the dollars changed to euros in his hand. “How did you do that?”

He smiled and tossed enough to cover the bill on the table. “I have many talents.”

And when the right opportunity presented itself, he was going to show her.

Repeatedly.

Chapter Eight

“I knew the view from here would be amazing. Look at this place...it’s like a fairy tale.” Sara leaned back against Azrael. His arms wrapped her tight, filling her with the sensation that the sea of twinkling lights below them was somehow a manifestation of her happiness.

Standing on the top observation deck of the Eiffel Tour was something she’d never thought she’d get to do. The fact that it had been closed for half an hour made no difference to Azrael. In his Reaper form, he’d simply held her close and moments later, here they stood.

He was amazing in every aspect. The way he treated her, the way he looked at her. Told her she was beautiful. She could get used to this man. Who was she kidding? She was already falling for him.

And he was fluent in French. She had a feeling he could speak any language necessary, but he oozed sexy when he spoke French.

“Say something in French again,” she whispered, half-embarrassed to ask.

“What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t care if you read the phone book, I just like the way it sounds.”

He laughed softly and drew her closer. He was silent for a moment before he spoke.

“
Comment t'exprimer tout ce que je ressens? Ton image hante mes nuits. Je suis affamé pour vous.”

“Mmmm. That sounds nice. What does it mean?”

“You didn’t say I had to translate.”

“C’mon, I want to know.”

“It means...the night is beautiful and so are you.”

“I thought the word for beautiful was belle?” She tipped her head to look at him. “Didn’t you tell me at dinner that you’d never lie to me?”

“I wasn’t lying. It was more like keeping a secret.”

She twisted in his arms so she could see him face to face. “What did you say?”

“Some things I probably shouldn’t have.”

“Now I really want to know.” She waggled her brows. “Were you talking dirty to me?”

“Would that work?”

Grinning, she cuffed his shoulder. “You’re wicked.”

“It’s good that you’ve figured that out.”

“It is? Why?”

His hands slipped from her waist to grasp her hips in a move that was pure animal possession. “Because I’m full of wicked thoughts. About you.”

A shiver rolled down her spine. “You are?”

“Yes.” His eyes gleamed bright, predatory. Wanton.

Her pulse sped up. “I think you’re the man my mother warned me about.”

“Really. Did she tell you I might do this?” His hands went lower. He cupped her buttocks, crushing her against him. “Or this?” His teeth nipped her neck, followed by his tongue. He nibbled a path to her ear, hot breath tormenting her, making her writhe.

“Never mentioned it...” she murmured.

“You’ve lit a fire in me, Sara. I need you. I can’t imagine being without you, even after knowing you for so short a time.” He breathed deeply. “I want you in my life, but I also know it isn’t fair for you.”

He released her. Cool air rushed in between them.

“What isn’t fair?” She wanted him. Regardless.

“I’m not a normal man, Sara. I don’t live in your world. I can’t be a part of your life like an ordinary mortal. This...” He gestured to himself. “This isn’t who I am. And if I don’t take this form, no one else can see me. It’s no way for you to live.”

“So you take your human form more often.”

Turning half away, he dragged his hand through his hair, tousling the black waves. “You deserve more. Someone who can be there for you all the time.”

“I’d be happy with whatever time you could give me.” After the passion he’d just shown her, was he trying to say this was goodbye? She clutched the pendant he’d given her. “I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

He stared out into the Parisian night as if looking for answers.

“Azrael.”

He closed his eyes, letting his chin drop to his chest. “It’s better we part now, before this becomes something we both regret.”

The Angel of Death had apparently lost his mind. She decided to give him a piece of hers. She stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “No.”

He slanted his eyes at her. The edge of chrome was there for a second, then gone. “No?”

She held onto him more tightly. “I refuse.”

He blinked and lifted his head. “You refuse.” His jaw shifted to one side, his expression pensive. “I’m a Reaper. No one talks to me like that.”

She let go of him and lifted her chin. “Well, maybe it’s about time.”

Straightening to his full height, he faced her, a new gleam in his eyes. “I don’t think you should have said that.”

She stepped back. “W-why?”

“Because.” He advanced so quickly she didn’t see him move. “Now I want you more than ever.”

He reached for her, then dropped his hands, fisting them at his sides. His face contorted...with pain, anger, lust...she couldn’t tell. A low growl emanated from him. He fought something, that much she understood.

“This can’t be, Sara. No matter how brave you think you are...you have no idea what I truly am.”

She held her ground. “Yes, I do. You collect men’s souls. I’ve seen it. Been with you while you did it. I’m not afraid.”

A humorless laugh echoed off the steel platform. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw what hides in me.”

Swallowing down her fear, she stood tall. She’d called his bluff once. She could do it again. “Then show me.”

He shook his head, hands still fisted, eyes heavy-lidded. His mouth twisted. “You don’t know what you ask.”

“Show me and let me decide for myself.”

Again, he shook his head. “No. It’s just one more reason we shouldn’t see each other anymore. You bring out the Darkness in me.” He retreated, knowing she wouldn’t understand, needing to protect her. “The more I’m with you, the more I want you.” Another step back. “The more afraid I am I won’t be able to contain it.”

“I want you, too, Azrael.” Bold words, but she meant them.

He raised his hand as if he could block her words. “Don’t say that. I need to regain control. Already I feel it rise within—”

“Kiss me, Azrael.” She walked toward him.

“Stop,” he nearly begged. He backed into a stanchion and wheeled around like someone had touched him. When he faced her again, his irises were almost completely engulfed in blue flame.

A calmness she’d never felt before washed through her, erasing her fear. He wouldn’t hurt her. She believed that. More than anything, she wanted to comfort him, to show him he was worth caring about, no matter how awful he thought he was.

In the twinkling darkness, she came to him and took his face in her hands. His skin burned.

“Don’t fear this,” she whispered, leaning toward him.

She held nothing back, pouring every desire she’d had for him into the crush of her mouth. With her lips on his, she played out the images in her head. Their bodies entwined, slick with sweat. His possession of her. Her willful submission. With her tongue, she revealed her desire. Her want. Her need.

He kissed her back, his moans growing louder, deeper. His hands clutched at her until he drew her against him so tightly her head spun.

Fabric tore.

His skin cooled.

He shoved her away, covering his face with his arm as he retreated further beneath the structure. “Don’t come any closer. I can’t...stop it...”

She didn’t know which he was now, human or Reaper. Then it became clearer.

Wings sprouted from his back, but they weren’t the wings she’d seen before. Spines tipped the joints and drapes of shadow replaced the feathers.

More tearing. Mist expanded around him, blurring her vision. Then it split down the middle, spiraling away in thick whorls.