He didn’t want to talk about it. That much was obvious, and I didn’t need my special ability to pick up that he was in pain right now.
“Look, I know we bitch at each other all the time, but … I’m here for you, Mal. If you want to talk about … anything.”
He closed his eyes. I guess I was dismissed.
I left him to his thoughts and his curse and headed back to my room. Tomorrow was more training, and I’d have to face Kiara, and then there was my weekly trip to Deadside. Okay, that was a bright spot because Aunt Lara would be there. If only Azazel wasn’t my escort.
My hand went to the mark on my chest. Hurry up and fade already, dammit.
Chapter Eight
Azazel was already in the training room, punching the shit out of a bag when I got there. My eyes almost bugged out of my head at his shirtless torso. Mother of caramel-centered chocolate bites, the man was a fucking tank. A hot, muscled, tight-assed tank with silver flowing hair and … Shit, his silver eyes were fixed on me.
Yeah, today was an I-see-you-normally day, and he didn’t look too pleased.
“You look like shit,” he said.
And you look epic was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed the words. “Is that any way to speak to a lady?”
He snorted as if to say, you’re no lady. But I let it slide. This was Azazel, and banter was not his forte. Beating shit up and glaring were his go-to modes.
I wrapped my knuckles with bandages and bounced on my toes to limber up. “I am so ready today.”
“You look tired.”
“I didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”
“Why?”
“Bad dreams.”
He was silent for a long time. “Eliana tea helps.”
My ears perked up. “Is that an herb?”
He grunted. “Hand-to-hand.”
“Seriously? Again? Can’t we work on dagger stuff?”
We’d done a week on how to use my dagger, and the rest of the time, he’d had me running laps, doing pull-ups and push-ups, lugging weights, leaping around the room, or hand-to-hand.
“Hand-to-hand,” he growled. “Can’t always rely on weapons.”
“Fine.”
I fell into a defensive stance, and he sighed heavily. “I’m bigger and heavier than you; if you wait for me to attack you, you will fall.”
“So … You want me to attack you?” I stared at him incredulously.
“No, Fee. I want you to run.”
“Away from you?” Okay, that sounded a little cowardly but also practical.
He crossed his arms under his glorious pectorals. “Look around you. Know your surroundings. Know what you can use to your advantage. When faced with a larger, stronger opponent, the goal is to survive. Maim if possible, kill if you have a clear shot, but survive first.”
His words clicked in my mind. I scanned the room, the beams, and the mats, the ropes dangling from the ceiling, and the weights piled in the corner on a rack. Everything came together in my mind.
Azazel charged, and I ran. I grabbed the nearest rope and used it to propel myself onto the beam. I ran along it, then leaped for the other rope and swung in an arc, back around toward him, bringing my leg out to connect with his head.
He staggered back a step.
“Yes!”
He grabbed my ankle and pulled.
Thank God for the bandages on my hands. Otherwise, the rope would have skinned my palms, and then I was slamming into his chest. He threw me onto the nearest mat.
The breath catapulted out of my lungs. “Father of fleas.” I wheezed and coughed. “I almost had you.”
“Almost isn’t good enough.”
He stood over me, looking down his aquiline nose at me, and I swear there was a hint of smugness in the slight curl to the corner of his mouth. I was tempted to drop my shields and read him, but Azazel was the master of shielding. Besides, what if he dropped his shields too and read me? What if he picked up on the mark somehow?
His chest heaved, and he held out a hand to help me up. In that moment, his body was relaxed and unguarded. I bit back my smirk as I took his hand and yanked. Hard.
I expected him to stumble a little, lose the smug look on his face or something, but I’d underestimated my strength and how unguarded he was because he fell right on top of me.
He braced himself in time to avoid squishing me under his massive frame, but not enough to prevent our legs from tangling. His thigh was between mine, thick, muscular, and all too intimate. I met his stormy silver gaze, catching my reflection in his dilating pupils.
For a moment, our bodies were locked; he was raised on elbows either side of me while our breath mingled. The mark on my chest tingled, and heat rushed from the tips of my toes to my head, exiting in a soft exhale that kissed his lips. His lips. I couldn’t tear my gaze from his lips.
He shifted, so his thigh brushed against my crotch, and then something hard as steel rubbed against me.
He was aroused.
Holy mother of orgasms.
I was instantly wet. His nostrils flared, and then he was off me so fast I honestly thought I’d imagined the whole encounter.
He looked down at me with an expression that was almost murderous. “We leave for Deadside at midday.”
And then he was gone.
Way to rub up a girl and leave.
* * *
I zipped up my boots, tucked a tiny blade into the special sheath built into them, and then shrugged on my coat, ready for the flight with Azazel.
Azazel … My hand went to the spot on my chest where the soul mark was back in full force again. What the fuck was going on? It had been fading, and now it was getting darker.
“Is today the day?” Cyril asked.
My stomach bubbled with excitement and anxiety. “Yep. I’ll be collecting and delivering.”
“As well as staying the night,” Cora said from the window seat. She closed the book she was reading.
“It’s got to be done.”
She hadn’t asked to come with me; after all, it was Deadside, where ghosts went to pass over for good. Deadside needed its Dominus. I wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, but we were connected now, and Dayna explained that the more time I spent in my house there, the stronger that connection would become.
I could do with some extra strength right now. Heroes got trained too fast in the movies, going from unable to throw a punch to martial arts experts with katanas in the blink of an eye. Yeah, real life wasn’t like that. It was sore muscles, bruises, and torn ligaments. Over the past month, I’d had them all, and there were probably a whole lot more in my future, but there was no denying that it was getting easier. That my body was becoming more powerful. The scythe came easily now, the dagger fit snugly in my hand, and I didn’t need to think as hard before making a move. Instinct was kicking in. An instinct that came with being a Dominus, with being a demon.
“The Beyond.” Cora shuddered, pulling me back to the conversation. “Nope. Hard pass for me.”
Being here in the Underealm was good for her. She was able to take solid form more often just by siphoning energy from the air, and I knew how much that meant to her. It would never be the same as being alive, but it was better than being incorporeal all the time.
Still, this wasn’t a life. This wasn’t even the afterlife, and I wanted more for her. “Would it be so bad to move on?”
She looked up at me sharply. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Now that you have your Dominus gig and your new friends. Are you going to hang out with Dayna tonight?”
She wasn’t playing, there was real hurt and a little venom in her tone. For the first time since I’d known her, a frisson of fear shot through me. I’d heard of spirits that turned nasty when they didn’t get what they wanted, that grew bitter and angry for being earthbound, but this was Cora. She was a good person. My best friend. And being here was her choice.
“Cor, you know that’s not true. I fucking love you.
I just want you to be happy. I want what’s best for you.”
“And being here with you is what’s best,” Cor said. She ducked her head, and her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what happens if I leave.”
I didn’t have an answer because all we did was deliver the souls. The rest was conjecture. The Beyond was a mystery. Cor had never undertaken the assessment for placement at Soul Savers. I’d gotten her a job, and that had been that.
“Fine. I won’t bring it up again.” I tucked my braid into the back of my coat. “We’ll do something fun when I get back. Ooh, we can take a trip to the market to that tavern you’re always telling me about.”
“Really?” She perked up. “Oh, God, you’re going to love it. It’s like something out of one of those medieval shows.”
“We can take Cyril.”
“Will there be ratssss?” he asked. “I’m beginning to tire of Iza’s diet of dead mice. No fun if they’re not squirming.”
“They have rats!” Cora said with a grin. “Huge fucking rats.”
“Count me in,” Cyril said.
“Awesome. I’ll see you later. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” they echoed.
I headed out into the corridor, mind on the prize. Azazel would be waiting. The Dominus was punctual to a fault. My stomach trembled because I was going to meet my reapers—the demons who collected the souls I’d now take to the Beyond. But that wasn’t the only reason for my tummy flutters. The other reason was waiting for me at the pinnacle. He didn’t carry me like Mal. He cradled me to his chest like a gentle lover, although there was nothing lover-like about Azazel. The demon was a cold monolith of muscle.
“Fee?” Kiara called out from behind me.
Shitbags. I’d been so close to escaping. The steps to the pinnacle floor were a mere foot away.
“Fee, can I have a quick word?” Kiara asked.
I composed my features into polite inquiry and turned to face her. “What’s up?”
She stood a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her, expression worried. No, not worried, contrite. What the fuck?
“Kiara, is everything okay?”
She exhaled heavily. “Look at you, worrying about me after what I did.”
Huh?
“I ruined your birthday. I ran off like a child when Mal said those awful things. I allowed my emotions to get the better of me.”
“Kiara, you had every reason to be pissed off.”
“No. Mal loves to stir trouble and rile people up. I shouldn’t have allowed him to get to me. He wasn’t actually trying to upset me. He was needling at Conah about … about his attraction to you.”
Attraction … My neck grew warm. “I don’t understand.”
Her smile was small and wry. “I’m not a fool, Fee. I know that Conah is attracted to you. I’ve known for a while, but I trust him. He’s my soulmate, and our becoming lifemates is important to the Underealm.”
She was calm, logical, and reasonable. Nothing like the angry woman I was expecting to encounter.
Guilt, I am thy bitch. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I trust Conah, and I’ve come to trust you. We can’t decide who we’re attracted to, but we can govern our actions.”
She was so right. “I promise you, Kiara. I will never betray your trust.”
She bridged the gap between us and pulled me into a hug. “Thank you, Fee.”
It was weird, but the exchange left me feeling lighter about the whole Conah situation. Men came and went, but friendships were forever. I’d learned that the hard way, and Kiara had just reminded me of that.
* * *
“You’re late,” Azazel snapped as I joined him on the pinnacle.
I winced. “Kiara stopped me for a chat?”
Why did that come out as a question? God, did he have to be so intimidating all the fucking time? There had to be an off switch.
The memory of his body pressed to mine and his arousal rubbing against my thigh flitted through my mind. He’d backed off quickly then. Off switch. Ha.
“She’s an honorable woman,” Azazel said.
Huh? What? He said it in a way that implied that I wasn’t. “I’m honorable, too, you know.”
He huffed. “You have too much of Eve in you.”
Seriously? He was comparing me to an immortal I’d never met? “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Eve is a seductress.”
A ball of indignant heat bloomed in my chest, and my next words were out before I could think. “Really? She’s not the one with several lovers; your mother, Lilith, is.”
Azazel’s expression was suddenly glacial. “Do not make assumptions about Lilith. You know nothing of her.”
“Yeah? Then don’t make assumptions about me. You don’t know me.”
We glared at each other for a long beat. I was damned if I’d bow out first. Who did he think he was saying shit about me? Seductress my ass.
He was the first to blink and drop his gaze. “You should control your temper.”
“And you need to watch what you say. Seductress, pfft. You getting a hard-on isn’t my fault. I don’t control your dick.”
He blinked in surprise. “Agreed.”
“Good.” I released a breath to staunch my annoyance. “Now that we have that sorted, I do need your help with my anger.”
I filled him in on what tended to happen when I got pissed, ending in what happened at my house with Lucas and how Mal had calmed me.
“He kissed you.” Azazel frowned. “He overloaded your body with other sensations and distracted it from the rage.”
“Yeah, but I can’t rely on someone kissing me to control my anger in the future.”
“We’ll work on it. But right now, we should go. Your reapers will be waiting.”
He scooped me off my feet and cradled me to his chest. “Hold on.”
I wound my arms around his neck, turned my face into the crook of his shoulder, and closed my eyes. I knew what was coming. The last time it had almost blinded me because Azazel’s wings were different from Mal’s and the other reapers I’d seen. They were silver and huge and almost blinding in the sunlight. Best to keep my eyes closed.
There was a whoosh—the sound of his wings unfurling, and then my stomach dropped as we launched into the air. His grip on me was firm. I was safe in his arms. Comfort washed through me, followed by longing, which was a tugging sensation in my solar plexus, and then the mark on my chest tingled again.
The mark.
Oh, shit.
Chapter Nine
Azazel landed outside the gates to my house and immediately lowered me to the ground.
He really didn’t enjoy physical contact.
The sun was setting in the human world, but I was getting used to the time differences between the Underealm and this world, so the transition from morning to end of the day didn’t faze me.
The night seemed to wrap around us like a blanket. The ward blocked out the stars, but the sky still looked clear.
I looked up at the house through the bars on the gate. “Where are the reapers?”
“They’ll be at the operations house across the street,” Azazel said. “It’s where Peiter usually met with them.”
I glanced longingly at the house. We had it set up just how I liked it. One of the humans who worked at operations had brought in a bunch of DVDs and a DVD player a couple of weeks ago, and then they’d come over to watch movies after work. As much as I enjoyed the company and the movies, there was something missing. Action. Purpose. All this potential power and all the threat out there, and they had me hanging out at my Voralex and making friends, which was great, but still.
I looked up at Azazel’s hard jaw. “Is this really all Pieter did?”
“What do you mean?” Azazel asked.
“Stayed in the house and collected and delivered souls? What about the Dread and the mouths and the vampires, didn’t he help hunt them on a regular ba
sis? I mean, I’m pretty sure he did, so why can’t I?”
“Focus on training,” Azazel said. “You don’t have to worry about the rest. Just yet.”
“I can handle it, Azazel. You can come with me. It can be on-the-job training.”
“I’ll tell you when you’re ready for on-the-job training.”
Anger licked at my chest, but I staunched it. “You’re trying to protect me. I get it with the whole Lilith thing, but I’m a Dominus, and we have a job to do. If you ignore that, you’re messing with the balance. You need four Dominus for a reason. Four scythes for a reason.”
A flicker of doubt crossed Azazel’s face. This was my moment to act, to push him to see reason.
“My wonderful boy!”
The doubt winked out. The moment to pounce was gone.
A small, gray-haired ghost crossed the street toward us. “It’s been a whole week, and you haven’t been to visit.”
Azazel, hard-nosed, impassive Azazel, smiled. He actually fucking smiled at the woman, and my heart did a flip in my chest because fuck, he had dimples. Two cute dimples in his cheek when he smiled and that smile sent an arrow straight to my heart.
Fuck off, Cupid.
The mark on my chest prickled.
Hell no. None of this soul mark mojo shit. I rubbed at it through the fabric, eyes on Azazel as he continued to beam at the woman.
“Bea, you know how it can get,” he said amiably.
He said something amiably, which proved he could. Which proved he just couldn’t bother to be amiable with me.
Well, fuck you, too, silver-haired, dimpled monolith. My thoughts must have shown on my face because the ghost woman, Bea, looked at me, pushed her spectacles up her nose, and gave a little gasp.
“Oh, my boy, what did you do? She looks upset?” Bea smiled sweetly at me. “He’s a big softie really, dear. I’m sure you’ll work things out. My boy is a catch, after all.”
Softie? Azazel? A catch? Softie? Yeah, that one deserved a double-take.
Reaper Uninvited: Deadside Reapers book 2 Page 5