“Uh, yeah. My phone number. Sure.”
Her smile returned. “Go for it.”
“Wait here.” As I walked toward Bishop, his gaze locked with mine.
Again, my breath caught. He had a way of doing that to me effortlessly. It was kind of annoying. “It’s been a long day. I want to go home now.”
He shook his head. “You need to come with me.”
I exhaled shakily. “I just told you a few minutes ago that I never want to see you again.”
Yeah. Right before I’d groped him. Colin wasn’t the only one who was getting mixed messages from me this week.
“If I don’t find the others, they’ll be permanently lost, wandering the city, unsure of how they got here or who they are.” Frustration crossed his expression. “I should be able to find them myself, but I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” I asked.
Bishop shook his head. “The searchlights were my only clue, but they’re invisible to me. I must be damaged from entering the city. They told me I might be disoriented, but this is worse than that, and I don’t know why. It could jeopardize my entire mission. But there’s no way I can get a message to them that things went wrong. I’m on my own.”
I twisted a long piece of hair tightly around my finger. “So, the searchlights…why can I see something that you were supposed to see?”
“Good question.” His brows knitted together. “Maybe it was prearranged—a plan B nobody told me about. How else could you have found me last night?”
“I was on my way home, that’s all. I’m no plan B.” I swallowed hard. “I can’t deal with this right now. I need time to think.”
He touched my arm as I turned away. “You need me, Samantha. Without me, you’ll be back here again looking for that gray’s help.” He cast a dark glance at the lounge over our heads. “Trust me when I say that would be a big mistake.”
Tears burned my eyes, but I forced myself to blink them away. I’d be strong. It wasn’t like I had many other choices. “According to Stephen, losing a soul’s a great thing, but I know this hunger is bad. According to you, I could kill people if I lose control. And I could change into something else, right?”
He nodded. “If you can’t control your hunger, you’ll become mindless, like a zombie whose only desire is to feed.”
“Awesome. A kissing zombie.” He wasn’t easing my mind, and yet I hadn’t pulled away from him. “So what am I supposed to do?”
There was a short hesitation before he spoke again. “Help me. And I’ll help you.”
My breath caught. “You can help me?”
“I can.”
“But…how? My soul, it—it’s gone. Stephen said it’s gone forever. I can’t get it back.”
Bishop sent another glance through the club before locking gazes with me again. “He was wrong. I’ll help you restore your soul. I believe there’s a way.”
I felt a sharp, hopeful lurch in my chest. “How?”
“Here’s the thing. I’ll help you, Samantha, but you have to help me in return. That’s the deal.”
I looked at him bleakly. “I thought only demons and car salesmen made deals. Not angels.”
“I need you to find the others for me. I’ll make a deal with you to make that possible. It’s that simple.”
His controlled expression gave nothing away, but his blue eyes—they told another story. They were filled with worry, with hope, and all of it was directed at me. I held the fate of his mission in my hands—according to him, anyway. And he held my entire future in his.
If I made this choice to help him, my destiny would be irrevocably connected to an angel who frightened, angered and frustrated me, but also intrigued me more than I wanted to admit.
Even though I was essentially one of the monsters, he was willing to bargain with me. If there’d been an outbreak of vampires in the city, I wouldn’t blink at the thought of vampire hunters running around with wooden stakes taking care of the problem.
Then again, if I was one of the vampires…
“Would you have killed me last night in the alley if I hadn’t gotten away?” I finally asked. “Despite our ‘connection,’ despite me being ‘special’? Would you have?”
His brows drew together and it took him a moment to answer. “I hadn’t realized what you were until Kraven pointed it out, so it took me by surprise. I should be able to sense that, too. But you aren’t feeding, you aren’t putting anyone at risk. You’re coherent and thinking rationally. No, I wouldn’t have killed you.”
“Liar.”
His eyes flicked sharply to mine as if I’d insulted him. After all, he had just told me that angels didn’t lie. “I can’t change what’s happened so far or what you think I would or wouldn’t have done. The question is, what do you want to do next?”
Again, Bishop was so close to me that our bodies were almost touching. It was as if he was a magnet for me and I couldn’t resist his pull. “If I help you find your friends—and you help to restore my soul—you also have to promise to keep me safe, just like you told Stephen you would.”
I was revising the contract as we went along. My father was a lawyer, so I supposed it came naturally.
He raised an eyebrow. “Deal. I also have another condition of my own.”
Great. Although, I supposed it was only fair. “What is it?”
“When I need you to, you’ll help take the cloud away from my mind.”
“You need me to…?” I began, but then I got it. “You want me to touch you sometimes, because it takes your confusion away.”
“You seem to have that ability,” he said, his expression tight as if it pained him to admit it.
I’d twisted my hair so tight that the tip of my finger had turned a lovely shade of purple. “Deal. But I’m not touching you all the time.” Which was too bad, really.…
“No, definitely not all the time.” But something slid behind his gaze then. Something that went against his words.
I’d started breathing quicker and hadn’t taken a single step away from him, despite how adamant I’d tried to sound about keeping my distance. God, what was wrong with me? He affected me like no boy I’d ever known.
Maybe because he wasn’t a boy at all.
I shivered.
Fine. I’d help him. I had no other choice from where I stood, other than going back upstairs and getting cozy with Stephen and his new “brothers and sisters.”
Carly must have gotten tired of waiting, because suddenly there she was, stretching her hand out to Bishop.
“I’m Carly, by the way,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
Bishop hesitated a moment before he shook Carly’s hand. “Bishop.”
“So are we leaving or what, Sam? What’s going on?”
That was the question of the day. What was going on?
I might not feel like a monster who hungered for human souls, but kissing Stephen had changed me and could eventually take me down a very dark road if I didn’t do anything to fix it. Bishop had said he could restore my soul, which would take away the hunger I now constantly felt.
Stephen had offered no such solution.
“You need to go home now, Carly,” I said.
She frowned. “But—”
“Please. It’s important. Don’t ask me why, but you need to get out of here right now.”
“Okay, Ms. Dramatic. Are you coming with me?”
“No, I…I have to do something first.”
“With him?”
My jaw tightened. “Yeah.”
Carly looked confused. “So you’re ditching me for some guy you just met?”
I wasn’t the kind of girl who ditched her friends for some cute guy, so I could understand her confusion. Giving him my phone number was one thing, but leaving with him was another.
“I’m not ditching you,” I said firmly. I didn’t have time to argue about this. “Just—please, trust me and go home. I’ll call you later.” She nodded slowly, and I turned back to Bishop. �
��Let’s go.”
“Sam!” Carly called after me as Bishop and I moved toward the exit. “You never told me what happened with Stephen.”
“Later, I promise,” I told her. Then I looked at Bishop. “You have one hour. That’s it.”
He shook his head. “That won’t be enough time.”
“Too bad. That’s all I’m willing to give you tonight. Take it or leave it.”
He glared at me. I mean, contrary to what Carly might think and any confusing feelings I needed to sort through, I wasn’t interested in Bishop romantically. Not a chance. If I’d thought Stephen was trouble, then this guy was trouble times a thousand.
“Fine,” he said, his jaw tight. “I’ll take it.”
I cast one last glance over my shoulder. Standing behind the glass barrier on the second floor, Stephen watched as we left the club.
Chapter 8
It was just before nine o’clock on Monday night and I was walking the streets of Trinity with an angel who looked like he could go to my high school.
My mother once read this book that said when she was overwhelmed by stuff she couldn’t control, she should focus on what was happening right at that moment. Basically it meant that what happened in the past was over and what might happen in the future was not worth thinking about yet if it was only going to cause anxiety.
Live in the now. Right here. Right now. Nowhere else.
So I focused on doing just that. I didn’t think about my missing soul or who’d stolen it from me in a kiss that, for a few fleeting moments, I’d honestly thought had meant something—that the cute boy who lived on my street might actually be interested in me, had noticed me, thought I was worthy of his attention, but instead had turned out to be a monster in disguise.
Nope. Instead, I thought about how tight my shoes felt and how they’d never been meant for long walks like this. And how chilly the wind felt against my face. Instead of thinking about what my swirling hunger meant, I focused on the gorgeous guy walking next to me and how being this close to him made my stomach do constant flip-flops.
Well, maybe I needed to focus on something else. Thinking of Bishop like that was dangerous. He’d promised to restore my soul if I helped him. That was the only reason I was with him right now.
Information—that’s what I needed. And there was only one way I could think of to get it: ask.
I braved a glance at Bishop. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you working with a demon? Angels and demons…well, I’d assume you should be enemies.”
“We are.”
“Then…what’s going on? I mean, you and Kraven, you don’t seem to like each other much.”
He hesitated. “We don’t.”
“You hate him?”
“Angels don’t hate.”
Bishop seemed to talk like that. Short answers and sometimes a little too formal for your average teen. “How old are you?”
That earned me a look. “How old do I look?”
“Seventeen or eighteen.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Then that’s pretty much what I am.”
Pretty much? That wasn’t exactly a comforting answer, since it basically told me he wasn’t only seventeen or eighteen.
I cleared my throat. “So, um, the nonhating thing. What about, like, fiery vengeance and smiting the unholy? Angels do that, right?”
This earned me a half grin, which unfortunately drew my gaze back to his lips. I wondered if all grays constantly thought about kissing people—with or without souls. I really didn’t want him to affect me so much, not now that I knew what he was and what he could do.
He didn’t look directly at me when he replied. “It’s a little different than you might think.”
“Okay, then what’s up with the demon/angel interaction?”
“Do you see a searchlight yet?” he asked instead of answering.
I glanced around. “Not yet. You’re sure there are others?”
“I’m sure.”
“Angels or demons?”
“Likely a mix.” He was quiet for a moment. “Angels and demons—we’re two different but necessary ends of a scale. Demons are on one end and angels are on the other. Balanced numbers—of both light and dark forces—keep everything properly aligned.”
I had an image in my head of a huge weight scale with a bunch of demons sitting on one side and an equal number of angels on the other. “Could you tell what Kraven was last night? I mean, if you hadn’t checked his back to see the imprint? He looked so normal to me.”
His lips thinned. “Here in the human world he could have been an angel or a demon—or a human. I couldn’t tell for sure.”
Something occurred to me. I remembered Bishop’s initial hesitation when we found Kraven in the alley. “Do you know him? Like, from another time?”
He looked at me sharply. “Why would you ask me that?”
I was surprised by his reaction and actually took a step away from him. “I don’t know. It just seemed like it to me. I figured that might be why you might dislike each other so much.”
He turned his gaze to the direction we were walking. “Angels don’t hate demons, but we have a natural aversion to each other. It can’t be helped.”
That wasn’t exactly a direct answer. “Then why work together? Why not just team up with other angels?”
He didn’t speak for a moment. I got the distinct feeling that my questions were making him uncomfortable. Well, that made two of us. But I needed answers so I could figure out how I fit into all of this and how Bishop might be able to help me.
“It wasn’t exactly in my mission parameters to discuss the situation with one of…” He trailed off before flicking a glance at me, his blue eyes guarded, but I knew what he meant.
“One of the bad guys,” I finished for him. A shiver went down my spine—this time it wasn’t a pleasant one. “But you know I’m different, right? You said that already. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have asked me to help you, no matter what I could do. I mean, you have that knife of yours…” This time I was the one to trail off. Some things really didn’t need to be spoken aloud.
He watched me carefully and there might have been a little bit of regret in his expression. I wasn’t sure. “You’re afraid of me now.”
I swallowed hard. “Do you blame me?”
“You don’t need to be. I mean you no harm, Samantha.”
His deep, beautiful voice sent waves of warmth through me, even when we weren’t touching. It made me want to believe him. But while words might be warm and beautiful, actions were even better. “Okay. Then prove it.”
His eyes held mine. “How?”
“Let me hold your dagger.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You think that’ll help?”
“It might. I mean, if you let me hold something so important, something that could actually kill you, that might give me a bit more confidence.” The more I spoke, the more sense it made. At least, to me. “Consider it a symbol of trust between us.”
He held my gaze steadily, while his scent—still spicy and delicious and potentially addictive—kept me close effortlessly. It was all I could do to try to keep my expression neutral.
Finally he pulled the dagger out of its sheath. I eyed the hilt with surprise as he held it out to me.
“Really?” I said.
He nodded. “I want you to trust me, Samantha.”
I thought about my horrible nightmare, when I’d used this knife to kill Bishop before the shadows pulled me apart. My stomach twisted. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to stab you?”
A glimmer of humor lit up his eyes. “Not really.”
“So you don’t think I’m dangerous?”
A smile played at his very distracting lips. “Oh, you’re dangerous, all right. But not when it comes to something like this. Despite everything, you’re a teenage girl. I’m going to take a wild guess that you haven’t had much experience with weapons. However, I hav
e. A lot of it.”
Despite my lack of experience, he thought I was dangerous to him? That annoying shiver returned, spinning around me and landing right in the center of my stomach. I finally reached out to take the dagger from him. My fingers brushed against his as I did, sending that strange electric sensation through me again. No nightmarish visions this time, thankfully. The knife felt heavy and I held it at my side, close to my leg so anyone who drove past us on the street wouldn’t be able to see it. And actually, yeah, it did make me feel better.
Dark Kiss (Harlequin Teen) Page 9