Angel Slayer

by Michele Hauf

  “It is.”

  “Then why protect me? Why not slay me and take away the angel’s opportunity?”

  “I do not harm mortals.”

  “Right. You just steal their souls.” She flashed her pale green gaze at him. Tears wobbled at the corner of one eye. Mortals were too tender, especially women. “Are you my protector or my destroyer?”

  “I will never be your destroyer.”

  “What about the other?”

  “I offer you protection. I vow it.”

  She released a heavy sigh. “Until you deem it necessary to sink a hook into me and dangle me before Zaqiel.”

  He did not answer. She may be tender, but she was also a smart woman.

  “So when you’ve completed the task you’ll abandon me?”

  “I will leave.”

  “Typical.”

  “Of what?”

  “My life. Just when I get attached to someone they—It doesn’t matter. You think it’ll help to put distance between me and the angel?”

  “The angelkiss on your neck will still call to Zaqiel the moment you scratch it. But distance makes the beacon weaker. Where are you headed?”

  “Italy. My father owns a villa east of Rome. I go there in the summer, but haven’t been for a few years.”

  “Then we’ll go.”

  “Whoa, buddy, I didn’t invite you along.”

  “You prefer to travel by yourself and risk facing Zaqiel alone when the urge to scratch drives you mad?”

  She slapped a palm over her neck. “It’s already driving me mad. And he can’t follow me in an airplane, can he? Can angels fly?”

  “Not the ones whose feet have touched earth. Doesn’t keep him from flashing, though. He has the ability to track you to the ends of the earth.”

  “Did you follow him after he jumped from my bedroom?”

  “Not far. The angel has the ability to leap great distances, through time and space. Makes tracking them difficult, because I can’t grasp onto his vibration after he’s flashed.”

  “Flashing and angelkisses and demons.” Eden worried her lower lip. The tear glittering in her eye wobbled and spilled down her cheek. “I can’t do this, Ashur.”

  He put a hand over hers, on her neck. If the tears touched him they might burn. “You will not give up. Do you hear me? You are a strong woman.”

  “You don’t know me. You can’t make a statement like that.”

  “I can see it in your eyes. In the determination you’ve shown me thus far. And I vow I will do everything I can to protect you.”

  “You talk a good game.”

  “Have I given you any reason to distrust me?”

  She sighed. “That knife you had. Does it kill angels?”

  “Dethnyht,” he said lowly, aware they stood in a public place. “It is the only metal that can permeate the angel’s true flesh, which is forged of a metal not found on your earth. Soaked in qeres, a poisonous perfume, it is deadly, but only if plunged through the angel’s glass heart when it is in half form.”

  “Half form?”

  “The form it must assume to impregnate you. Half-angel, half-human man.”

  “You mean with wings and everything?”

  “Exactly, but not like the wings most mortals imagine they wear.”

  “Not of feathers, that’s for sure. I usually give them steel wings and gears, but that’s a steampunk fantasy.”

  “Your depictions of the angel form are…close.”

  “What about demons? What do you look like when you’re not…like this?”

  “You will never know. It would shame me greatly if I were to expose my true form to you. Yet I must assume it to kill the Fallen.” But he would then walk away from her and it would matter little if his appearance horrified her. “Now, what flight are you on so I can go purchase a ticket?”

  She told him. “But, Ashur.” She grabbed the lapel of his jacket. “Would you do me a favor first?”

  “Anything.”

  “You licked the angelkiss on my arm and it relieved the itch. Would you…” She tugged down the scarf from her neck.

  Though he knew it a simple plea for relief from the itch, Six’s voice entered Ashur’s brain on a wave of sensory wonder. Smells and sounds were growing more vibrant to him by the second as he became a part of this world. He should resist, but he had never been one to walk away from temptation.

  He fitted her up against the wall and bent close. She smelled salty and powdery sweet at the same time, perfume and adrenaline brewed to a luscious scent.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “You smell good.”

  A nervous snicker softened her defensive stance. “So do you. But just do it, please? I can’t do the romance thing right now.”

  “I’m not trying to romance you, Six.”

  “You may not be, but your closeness is certainly stirring something in me. Concentrate, Ashur. The angelkiss.”

  That was one command he was willing to take from a woman.

  He drew his tongue along the soft, silken skin of her neck, lingering, prolonging the glide. The contact blasted open his memory vaults and flashed exquisite replays from pleasures once stolen.

  Ashur gripped the back of her head, her soft hair coiling between his fingers. The taste of her would be his undoing….

  Until the icy lash stung his shoulder. He jerked upright, a reaction to the brief pain. It hadn’t been real, only memory.

  He stepped away, and Six wobbled, but caught her palms against the wall.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Seriously?” She touched her mouth and bent her head to hide a burgeoning smile. “That was freakin’ awesome.”

  Disturbed by her reaction, Ashur excused himself to purchase a ticket. He was too quickly slipping into the indulgence of the flesh. And the willpower to make it stop did not exist.

  Chapter 9

  When they reached an altitude safe for electronics, Eden took out her laptop. It wasn’t as if she wanted to avoid a conversation with the gorgeous stud of a man sitting next to her in first class. It was because she didn’t know where to start.

  The stud was a demon. The only thing she knew about demons was that they were evil. The opposite of good. Ashur had even admitted he wasn’t good.

  So why did her heart feel he was more good than he imagined?

  She had always been the trusting sort. After her mother had died, she had literally been raised by the maid while her father worked insane hours. At a young age, she’d grown accustomed to chatting with the grocery delivery-man, the window cleaner, the TV repairman, and knew all the managers at the local restaurants who delivered takeout.

  Independence was her middle name. But her trust had altered a year ago after the nasty breakup with her fiancé, Chris. That had been a horrid time in her life. Ashur’s mention of joy this morning had sparked memories of it. That’s why she’d left the room crying. It was silly that it still affected her. By now she should be able to handle listening to some guy’s story of joy.

  In her heart, Eden knew carrying around the pain was detrimental to her mental health. She was over it, and moving ahead, but that didn’t mean shrapnel of the experience could ever be completely removed.

  So here she sat next to a demon who intrigued her more than frightened her, and she was okay with it. Because if she wasn’t, madness waited a step to the left. Seriously, how many women woke up to discover they’d been targeted to give birth to an angel’s nephilim child?

  “The nephilim,” she asked softly, catching Ashur’s attention. “Aren’t they supposed to be giants?”

  “Not like your fairy tales report.”

  “The Bible is not a fairy tale.”

  “If you wish. The nephilim are a good foot or two taller than most of your tall mortal men, and stronger than ten men combined. Their appetites are voracious, and they feed upon any living creature they can get their hands on—including humans. They drink blood, Six. The nephilim are wicke
d incarnate.”

  “Peachy.”

  Sorry she’d asked, she scanned through the e-mail files she’d downloaded yesterday and hadn’t a chance to look through. Anything for a distraction from the thought of giants sucking people dry of their blood.

  “I do not understand the purpose of the seat cushion as a safety device,” Ashur whispered to her. “If the plane falls from the sky, what will one small piece of foam do to break the fall?”

  “That’s assuming we land in the ocean,” she said. “They’re flotation devices.”

  “The impact would still kill a man. So strange how modern people are always offering unnatural reassurance for disasters that cannot be prevented. Why not accept the world is a dangerous place and risks are a common occurrence? Mortals accept false reassurance with disturbing ease.”

  “No sense in worrying about something you can’t prevent. But, dude, if you’re ever in need of a job after this slayer gig is up, don’t try for a counselor or health care services position.”

  “Why not?”

  “Compassion and tact are required.”

  “I see.” He grinned. It was a moment of self-awareness that captivated Eden.

  Ashur had come to her, a demon intent on one goal. Yet he was softening as he relaxed into the world and took it all in. Could the world be influencing him? Would that be a good or bad thing when finally it came to slaying the angel?

  She took in his face as he studied the overhead controls for air and light, the rough stubble, the hard lines, the scruff of dark hair that looked more pissed than actually styled. Her awareness made him uncomfortable, she knew. He couldn’t meet her gaze.

  “You don’t like it when I look at you.” A blast of air beamed onto her forehead.

  “Sorry,” Ashur offered and switched the air off. “Doesn’t bother me when you look at me.” The light showered their laps, and Ashur left it on.

  “You’re not very good at lying,” Eden said. “Interesting.”

  She stroked her neck just above the pearl necklace and Ashur reached to gently clasp her wrist. “Sorry. It’s bugging me again. Should have brought along some aloe. I have never been licked by men so much in my life. A girl should really enjoy it, but— Could you, please? It does help.”

  “The mortal wants a demon to drag his tongue along her flesh, defiling as a means to comfort?” he asked.

  “You make it sound very dirty.”

  The demon’s eyes grew deeper in color, capturing Eden with his silent regard. The edges thickened with a bright blue that almost glowed. The effect wasn’t so much creepy as enticing.

  “Yes,” she said on a gasp. “Please.”

  Bowing to her neck, he took a moment to smell the perfume imbued in her pores. His proximity, nose almost touching her ear, hair skimming her cheek, awakened her senses, made her blood rush. Who’d a thought a cure for an itch could be so sensual?

  Across the aisle an older woman with her nose in a book glanced suspiciously at them. Ashur dragged his tongue along Eden’s neck. She sighed softly. The old lady dropped her jaw open. Eden couldn’t help but smile.

  “Mmm,” Eden intoned. “That feels much better.”

  Head bowed over her, he smiled. The smile didn’t move his lips into a curve but she saw the satisfaction in his kaleidoscope eyes. Never had she looked into eyes so beautiful, and ever changing. Moments ago they’d seduced, now they appeared…innocent. Learning the world, indeed.

  And learning her? Bring it on.

  If he was a demon, she couldn’t see it. On the surface Ashur was all man. Handsome, powerful, determined to protect her. The combination was so sexy it took away her breath. She could never dream up a man like him, yet now it was as if she were walking through a tempting reverie.

  Eden tilted her head and brushed her lips across his. He didn’t flinch, allowing her the slow exploration. If he wanted to learn, she was willing to offer. Warm and firm, his mouth felt like a place she’d never been to before, a place she wanted to learn.

  This dream she would claim, keep close to her heart as all the others she secretly hoarded.

  Her fingers moved across his chest, pressing his rigid muscles. His body felt like steel, solid, and not as warm as most human bodies were, but it was not cold. Not dead. He was alive.

  His breath whispered into her mouth as she parted her lips against his. “Six,” he muttered. “What are you doing?”

  “You don’t know what a kiss is?”

  “It’s been so long. Too long.” An achy longing roughened his voice.

  “Since you’ve been kissed? I suppose so.”

  “It distracts me from the task.”

  “What can you possibly do regarding that task while in this airplane soaring over the ocean? Just let this happen. Let me get comfortable with you.”

  “Is this how you find your comfort with all men?”

  A weirdly jealous question. The rescuing knight was asserting his claim to her. She liked that. “No. I’m following my heart right now.”

  And even if he insisted this had nothing to do with romance, Eden couldn’t flee the desire to rush forward and dive in.

  She opened her eyes to find his were closed. And he did not move away so she kissed him again, firmer, at the corner of his mouth. The tickle of his mustache made her smile and dash out her tongue to trace his lip. She glided her fingers along the line of goatee framing his jaw and mouth.

  For a moment of undiluted bliss she forgot she sat in an airplane, fleeing from a mad angel, and in the presence of a disapproving old lady who observed from across the aisle.

  “Your kisses are good for a man who hasn’t done so in a thousand years,” she said. “Thanks for letting me kiss you.”

  Eden sat back and looked out the window. She had kissed a demon…

  …and I liked it.

  Whatever happened from here on, she had to trust Ashur. He was the only one she could trust.

  But could she trust her own heart not to leap into uncharted waters?

  Five hours into the flight, the old woman across the aisle drowsed. Six observed her, and Ashur settled back in the seat to give her a better view. The laptop still sat open on her lap, but she hadn’t tapped at the keyboard for a while. She’d dozed for a few hours, as well.

  He was fascinated by the technology, and really wanted to crack the laptop open to see how it worked, but would not do it in front of Six. She seemed very possessive of the computer.

  He glanced at the screen and saw another of her paintings that made him hiss. What in the black sea Beneath? That one was not an angel.

  Fashioned of black steel, angled row bar, metallic mesh, gears and menace, the creature had horns centered down its skull and small wings that stretched beyond the elbows and flared out in silver flames. There was no sigil on that creature. And why should there be?

  Ashur clenched the armrest until it cracked.

  Six switched her gaze to him. “What’s up? I think I dozed off a bit there. We almost there?”

  She was not aware of his anxiety as she pulled down the cover of the laptop and closed it.

  Never had he been so blatantly revealed. It shamed him. He did not like the feeling.

  The creature Six had painted was him.

  Her tender expression prompted Ashur to look away so she would not see the tight anger on his face. “Ashur?”

  “A few hours yet,” he replied. “You are not going to work on your paintings?”

  “Oh, this piece I was dabbling on always gives me trouble.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It’s just…not right yet. It’s the first piece I’ve ever created without having a dream to refer to.”

  “Then why create it?”

  “I don’t know.” She tapped the top of the laptop. “He appeals to me. But he’s not a dream angel. Just something I felt compelled to try.”

  Ashur huffed out his breath. Foolish mortal muse.

  “I’ll look at it again in the morning when my head is c
lear. So, do you like the airplane ride?”

  “It is monotonous.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been in my own world. Let’s talk and make things less boring.”

  She reached for her purse and pulled out a lipstick and smoothed it over her lips. She pressed her lips together, rubbing the gloss around. He liked her mouth. It was too soft for one as rough as him. Perhaps that was why it attracted him so much.

  Upon noticing a couple sitting ahead of them, their heads bowed together in sleep, he wondered if Six had left a man—boyfriend, lover—behind. Would she have simply up and left New York without notifying him? Perhaps she’d contacted her lover using the laptop. He wasn’t sure how it worked, but he knew people used a plethora of electronic devices to speak instantly with their loved ones nowadays.

  “Do you have family?” he suddenly asked. He nodded toward the sleeping couple.

  “It’s me and my father.” She sat back and rummaged in her purse for something else. “What about you?”

  “I told you I was forged, not born.”

  “That’s…weird.”

  “It is what I know. That means no family, no relatives of any sort. Just me and the ranks of Sinistari.” None of whom he knew well. They were dispatched on separate missions when needed. Only once had he assisted a Sinistari who had encountered two Fallen at once. “So only you and your father?”

  “Yep.”

  Good. There were no other men in her life. And why was that important?

  “Last time I spoke to him was a month ago, I think.”

  She pulled out a bottle and spritzed her face with what he could only guess was water.

  “That seems an inordinate amount of time not to speak to someone so close. He must live far away.”

  “No, he lives down the street from me in the Wilson penthouse. He’s very busy. We’re not close like some families who do lunch or go on vacations together.”

  “I find that startling. The two of you live so close and yet…?”

  “Really? You, who do not have family, can be surprised at another person’s choices?”

  “You have me there. I don’t think I would normally be concerned, but with you it seems I am. Is that water?”