Connor groaned, and she jerked to her senses. Good heavens, he’d been lying there, possibly hurt, and she hadn’t even checked him for injuries.
His eyes opened, and he blinked at her.
She crouched beside him. “Are you all right?”
“Is the demon gone?” He struggled to sit up.
“Yes, we’re safe now.”
“Och, good.” He fell back and with a moan, rubbed his head.
“Are you injured?”
“Head hurts,” he mumbled. “Keep getting knocked—” His eyes widened. “That was you who blasted me into a damned tree earlier? When Zack was attacking you?”
“I tried to defend myself. You were caught in the wind?”
“Aye.” He propped himself up on an elbow. “How long was I out?”
“A . . . few minutes.”
He glanced at himself, then jolted into a sitting position and jerked his kilt down to his knees. “Damn.” He shot a fierce look at her.
She jumped to her feet. “I—I beg your pardon.” Her cheeks grew warm. “Pray, do not be troubled. It is truly a . . . small matter.”
“Small?”
“Yes. Of little consequence.”
“Little?” He arched a brow. “Do ye need another look?”
“For goodness’ sake, I was not referring to your size. The Lord knows you’re definitely—” Her cheeks blazed hotter, and it didn’t help that he appeared to be enjoying her discomfort. She turned away stiffly. “In truth, I hardly noticed.”
The minute the words escaped, she froze in shock. What was she doing? Never before in her entire existence had she uttered a falsehood.
Her gaze fell on the apple Darafer had tossed onto the grass. A reminder that the longer she stayed on Earth, the more human she would become. The more susceptible she would be to sin. As in hiding the truth. Telling lies.
Or feeling lust.
Good Lord! She’d never get back to heaven if she fell into sin.
“Marielle?” Connor asked softly, and his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
She dashed to the cabin and let herself inside. She paced around the large room, weaving a trail around the couch and through what appeared to be a kitchen and dining area. Around and around she went, and her heart kept pounding, thundering in her ears. This wasn’t helping. She felt caged in. She’d always had wings before. She’d always had the ability to fly anywhere she wanted.
She had to get back to where she belonged. There had to be a way.
She stopped and brought her clenched hands up to her face. Don’t panic. Think. Unfortunately, her thoughts seemed to bounce around, echoing in the empty cavern of her mind where she was used to hearing thousands of voices. Voices that sang praises and offered a constant stream of encouragement and comfort. They were all gone. She was so alone.
Don’t panic. Darafer was counting on her panic and fear so he could lure her in. No doubt, he figured she would miss the company of angels so badly, she’d be willing to join the fallen ones just to regain some sense of belonging. But the lure was false. There would be no comfort in hell.
There had to be a purpose to what she was enduring. The Heavenly Father was always big on learning through experience. He was forgiving, too. She just needed to find the right path, the right penance that would convince Him she’d learned her lesson.
Maybe there was something she was supposed to do here on Earth. Some noble mission. And once she’d proven herself worthy, she’d be allowed back into heaven.
She resumed her pacing. That had to be it. She was simply being tested. The Father would never completely abandon her. She was not a fallen angel. No matter what Darafer said.
Like all of Lucifer’s servants, Dare was a deceiver. He would try anything, say anything to confound her. And without her connection to the Heavenly Host, she had succumbed too easily to fear. She couldn’t let that happen again. She would have to be strong. Fearless. Gird herself with righteous armor.
She jumped when the door clicked shut. Oh great, that was real fearless of her. She gave Connor a wary look.
He stood by the door, watching her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her back. His hand gripped his dagger once again. He must have found the weapon somewhere on the grass. He leaned over to slip it into the sheath beneath his knee sock.
The cabin felt much smaller with him there.
She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “I’m sorry you had to experience a demon. He’ll come again, so it’s not safe for you to be with me. I appreciate your noble intentions, but it would be in your best interest to leave.”
“Ye think I turn tail and run that easily?” His blue eyes glittered. “Ye consider me a coward?”
“No! I think you’re very brave. Amazingly brave, really, since it’s highly unlikely that a human could ever defeat a demon in battle. Not without help from the Heavenly Host, and I’m afraid they’re not going to respond if I call them. So I won’t blame you if you want to go . . .”
He watched her closely. “I’m no’ going.”
Her breath whooshed out. She hadn’t realized she was holding it. She definitely hadn’t realized how much she wanted him to stay. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then wandered toward the kitchen. “Before we go any further, I need to tell you about myself. The demon referred to me as a parasite, and—”
“Please don’t let his insults upset you.” She strode toward Connor. “Demons are notorious deceivers. Darafer probably wants to drive a wedge between us, make me doubt you so I’ll reject you and lose your protection. He knows we’ll be easier to defeat if he can separate us.”
“Ye just tried to separate us.”
“Yes.” She stopped in front of him. “Because I’m worried about your safety. I really should insist you leave.” She hung her head. “I’m being selfish to keep you.”
“Nay, lass. I stay because I want to.”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “You were willing to fight a demon to keep me safe. You stood by my side and believed in me. You’re a good, brave, noble man, Connor Buchanan. You rescued me tonight, and I will always be grateful for your courage and strength of character.”
He stood still, watching her with a stunned look.
She smiled. Not only was he honorable, but modest, too. She reached up, placed her hands on his temples, and tugged his head down. “God bless you.” She kissed his brow, then released him.
She turned away to resume her pacing, but he grabbed her wrist and halted her. She gasped when he shoved her against a wall, her wrist still gripped in his fist and now pinned against the wall close to her ear.
Her heart lurched. “What—what are you doing?”
He planted his other hand on the wall and leaned toward her. His eyes blazed a brilliant blue. “When ye kiss a man, ye should do it properly.”
Her pulse raced. “I did give you a proper kiss.”
“For a child.” He leaned forward till his mouth was close to her ear. His breath feathered against her skin, causing tiny tingles. “I’m a man. I believe ye noticed that.”
“Hardly noticed it.” She shivered when his nose nuzzled her ear. “And I apologized. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Do I seem offended to you?”
“I—I—” Good heavens, was that his tongue? “You were offended earlier when I was uncovered. So it seems . . . logical to assume . . .” She couldn’t remember what she was trying to say when his tongue was tickling her ear.
“I was never offended,” he whispered. “I’ve been dying to touch you again.”
Her mind swirled, leaving her dizzy. She trembled as his lips moved down her neck.
“Yer pulse is jumping,” he murmured.
“I know.” She struggled to breathe. “I think this heart must be defective. It’s not working right.”
He chuckled. “Ye’re working perfectly. Ye’re so beautiful. So sweet.” He kissed a trail to her jaw.
Her heart pounded. Was he headed to
her mouth? She should stop him. Angels didn’t behave like this. They simply didn’t have the desire.
But she did. It had to be this human body. It was so finely tuned to enjoying the nuance of his every touch. The pressure of his lips, the moistness of his tongue. The nibbling. The tickling. The rough scrape of his whiskers made her knees grow weak. And his sweet words made her heart swell with longing.
“Connor,” she whispered, her eyes flickering shut.
She felt his breath against her lips. So close. Her heart raced with anticipation.
Good heavens, this had to be lust. No wonder it was a sin. It was so powerful. She opened her mouth to say no, but his lips touched hers. Softly, then he pulled away.
She froze. That was it? Surely there was nothing sinful in that. It had seemed rather . . . sweet.
His mouth met hers again, lingering this time, pressing gently. Yes, definitely sweet. He seemed to be tasting her, sipping from her. He drew her bottom lip into his mouth and suckled gently.
She moaned.
He pulled her into his arms and scattered kisses over her cheeks, her nose, her neck. With her eyes still closed, she wrapped her arms around his neck. It felt so good to be wanted. And by Connor. Such a good, brave, noble man.
He returned to her mouth for another kiss. She tried to return it, mimicking his gentle sucking and nipping motions. A groan rumbled deep in his throat, and the sound reverberated through her, settling between her thighs with a curious sensation.
That was . . . odd. Uncomfortable, somehow, as if she were aching for something. Desperate for something.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she moaned against his mouth.
With a growl, Connor deepened the kiss, molding his mouth more fiercely against her. Warning bells sounded in her head. The sweetness was gone, replaced by something wild and . . . hungry.
Lust. Good heavens, she’d been seduced by sweetness, only to fall headlong into passion. And the most shocking part was she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop.
He planted his hands on her bottom and pulled her tight against him. She gasped. Good heavens, he was bigger than before.
“Connor—” She jolted when she saw his eyes. Bright red and glowing.
She jumped back, banging against the wall.
“Careful.” He took her by the shoulders, but she scrambled away.
She recalled now that his eyes had turned red earlier. She’d dismissed it at the time, for she’d known all along he wasn’t a demon. She would have sensed that immediately. Earlier on the couch, she’d had a glimpse into his soul, and it was human.
It didn’t make sense. She’d been so sure he was human. “I don’t understand.”
He held up a hand as if to reassure her. “ ’Tis all right. Ye know I would never harm you.”
Her mind raced, zipping through all the possibilities. Was he from another planet? No, he was a Scotsman. A shifter? She didn’t think so. What had Darafer called him—a parasite?
With a gasp, it all became clear. And terrifying. For he was the same kind of creature that had killed all those people at the campground. “You’re a Cheater!”
He blinked. “A what?”
“A Cheater.” Her heart sank. “That’s what Zack calls them because they’ve cheated death. He hates—” You. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Her eyes welled with tears. “You’re a vampire.”
Chapter Seven
She was disappointed. Appalled. Connor gritted his teeth as he watched a tear slip down her lovely cheek. He was tempted to brush it away, but figured she’d jump back to avoid his touch.
One thing he’d learned in nearly five centuries of existence: everything could change in the blink of an eye. It had taken only a few minutes for him to doom his soul back in 1543. Only a second for Shanna to fall into a death spiral after touching Marielle. Only another second for him to abandon all common sense and surrender to the yearning that had been growing inside him from the instant he’d first heard Marielle’s voice. And less than a minute ago, she’d trembled in his arms and moaned with pleasure. He’d thought a miracle had happened. A beautiful angel cared for him, admired him, even desired him.
But seconds later, she backed away in horror.
When would he ever learn? Joy and peace were not meant for him. Love would always be beyond his reach. Whenever he indulged in a glimmer of hope, it was always dashed to pieces. And rightly so.
What a fool he’d been to want Marielle. His black tainted soul wasn’t worthy of the lowliest of human beings, and yet, he’d dared to touch an angel?
Her reaction was exactly what he deserved.
“Ye know about vampires,” he said quietly.
“Yes.” She wiped her cheeks. “I’m a Deliverer—was a Deliverer—so I have escorted many souls who were murdered by your kind.”
His jaw clenched. It was the Malcontents who went about murdering mortals, but he could hardly claim to be any better.
She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and looked him squarely in the eyes. Even with despair twisting his gut, he felt awed by Marielle. The poor lass had been wounded and banished from heaven, threatened by a demon, and groped by a vampire, all in one night. And yet, she was still standing, strong and determined.
“Did you kill those people at the campground?” she asked.
“Nay.”
She paused, an expectant look on her face as if she were waiting for him to explain. What was he to say? That he was a good man? That he was insulted she would even ask such a question? There was no point in pretending. The demon had verified what Connor had long suspected. He was on the list for hell.
“You were at the campground?” she asked. “Why?”
“I was searching for someone. I was hoping to kill him.”
Her eyes widened. “May I ask his name?”
“Casimir.”
“Oh.” She stared across the room, her eyes unfocused as she pondered something. “Interesting.”
Connor shook his head slightly. Being a vampire was one thing, but God forbid he be boring.
She paced toward the fireplace, then skirted the far side of the couch, keeping her distance from him. “We know about Casimir. Zack has been delivering Casimir’s victims for centuries, and he hates him with a passion that is unbecoming to an angel. He’s been reprimanded several times for it.”
She paused in her pacing to glance at Connor. “We’re not supposed to interfere in human events. It might disrupt a human’s right to free will.”
He scoffed. “As if anyone would choose to be murdered by a vampire.”
“I questioned that myself.” She sighed. “But it only served to anger Zackriel. He was already in trouble for his own complaints and didn’t want any of his staff making him look worse.”
“God forbid,” Connor said dryly. He had no sympathy for the angel who had cruelly abused Marielle.
“But I thought I made a valid point,” she continued. “Since vampires are not exactly human, I believe angels should be allowed to interfere. Casimir and his kind are supposed to be dead. Their very existence is unnat—” She stopped with a wince.
“Unnatural?” Connor finished her sentence. “An accursed blight on humanity?”
Her face grew pale. “You are quick to condemn yourself.”
She was the one who’d called him unnatural. A Cheater. He felt stiff and cold down to the marrow in his bones. “You heard the demon. I’m on the list for hell.”
“Did you hear me? I told you demons are deceivers. You shouldn’t believe anything he told you.”
“I knew it long before he told me.”
“Why?” She stepped toward him. “What have you done to deserve hell?”
He narrowed his eyes. First the priest had wanted to know, and now an angel, but he would never confess. “I’m a vampire. Is that no’ enough?”
“Is it?”
Bloody hell, he didn’t know. Father Andrew was always preaching that they were still the childr
en of God. Connor figured there was hope for Vamps like Roman, but not for him. He was doomed, with no one to blame but himself.
And he should never have tainted someone as good and pure as Marielle. “I apologize for . . . touching you. I had no right.”
She started pacing again and went around the dinette set before heading back to the couch. She halted and rested her hands on the back of the couch where an Indian blanket rested.
She traced the design with her fingers. “I don’t think you need to apologize. You didn’t force me.”
“Ye’re innocent in the ways of the flesh. I took advantage of that.”
She glanced his way and arched an eyebrow. “Then I stand corrected. You sorely abused me.”
He flinched as if she’d thrust a spear through his heart. He shut his eyes briefly, willing the icy cold inside him to spread out and freeze the pain. “Aye.” It was all he could manage to say.
Weariness dragged at him, sapping away his strength. He strode to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of synthetic blood, and shoved it into the microwave.
“What is that?” She moved closer.
“Food.” He shot her an annoyed look. “Blood. If I doona drink it from a bottle, I might steal it from you.”
“Would you?”
He’d rather die. “I’ve taken blood from others. Thousands of people. I’ve been around for centuries.”
She rested her elbows on the breakfast bar and watched him. “I’m feeling a bit . . . disgusted.”
That hurt. “I’m sure ye are.” He grabbed the bottle from the microwave and guzzled down some blood.
“When’s the last time you bit someone?”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What does it matter?”
“Was it last night?”
“Nay.”
“Last year?”
He paused, wondering what she was up to. “No.” He finished the bottle and set it in the kitchen sink.
She perched on one of the barstools. “As a Deliverer, whenever I touched the dead or dying, their entire lives would unfold before me. I would see everything.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop. “Most people spend their lives trying to do right, but not everyone. I have seen some dreadful things.”
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