“Just admit we’d be sitting here like this eventually, no matter what.”
“If it makes you feel better to know that.”
She couldn’t contain a sharp bark of laughter that turned heads in their direction. David cringed as he noticed the attention. “I don’t think better is quite the word I’d use,” she said bitterly. “And that was a real shitty, cop-out thing for you to say, just for the record.”
In the candlelight, she saw a muscle flex in his jaw. Which meant he was getting really pissed off. “I didn’t want to do this here, Madeleine. That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even necessarily want to do it tonight.”
“Just choosing your moment to drop the ax? Hey, I get it. The sad thing is, I can’t even blame you.” She shrugged, trying to block out the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. Panic and horror, denial and defensiveness all warred for domination in her brain, leaving no room for rational thought. Snatching her purse off the floor, she flung the strap over her shoulder and stood.
David rose in front of her and stepped into her path, taking her arm. “Don’t leave like this. We’re here already…we can still have an evening.”
A pity date? Or just hanging out as friends? Was he serious? She jerked her arm from his grip. “Take your hand off me before I show you psycho right here in front of all these people.”
He held up both hands, as if to say he surrendered. As if he truly believed she would go off and have a screaming fit in the middle of the restaurant. The scene around her began to blur, the pinpricks of candlelight in the votive cups becoming starbursts as tears filled her eyes. It wasn’t fair that at that moment, he looked more beautiful to her than he ever had. There was a time she’d dreamed of marrying him, having the perfect house, the perfect family. Perfection, at long last. Denied yet again.
“Goodbye, David.” She walked past him. He gave her a wide berth.
Chapter Two
From the shadows, Ash watched her. She burst through the front doors of the restaurant and paused, one hand grasping the iron railing, the other flying to her mouth. For a moment, she stood and looked back at the door, then she raced down the steps, putting distance between herself and the establishment as fast as she could. Thunder rumbled overhead.
This could be it, if he wanted it to be. Her fate was in his hands now—it had been all of her life. Given her distraught state, one subtle manipulation of the stoplights and she could get hit by a car as she crossed the street. He could take her that way, or he could walk up to her, stand face-to-face. Look into her eyes and drag her soul out of her body with one touch. He hadn’t decided yet. Either way, it would put an end to all these centuries of wanting her. She’d be his at last, for eternity.
So vibrant. Sometimes a soul shined so brightly it was given more than one turn on the earth because of all the good it could do. So pure and good that his kind didn’t stand a chance of corrupting it, or even dared to try.
She was one of those old souls. She’d had several cycles. He didn’t know how or why she’d been given such a crap deal this time that he’d been able to find a weak spot to worm his way in, nor did he care. All along, he’d known if he just had a little patience, an opportunity like Maxwell Gatlin would finally present itself.
Invisible as the sudden gust of wind from the approaching spring storm, Ash moved up beside her as she stood at the corner, and stared at her profile. It could have come from a delicate eighteenth century cameo. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. A shiver racked her and she rubbed her bare arms, almost as if she sensed his presence there…and perhaps she did. She paid the tears no heed, not bothering to wipe them or hide them from other pedestrians. Someone asked her if she was okay; she dismissed the question with a curt nod. The light changed, and she stepped off the curb into the street.
No. Not this way. He didn’t understand it himself, but she held such fascination for him, he was content to simply follow her. Watch her. Bide his time until she was ripe for plucking. How and when he would know that, he wasn’t sure…but he would.
“So here we are again. When do you plan to take her?”
The crystal clear voice sounded at his back just as a deluge fell from the sky. Dammit. He was currently invisible to the humans, so if someone was speaking to him, that only meant…
He turned and squinted at the blindingly white figure standing behind him. Robes, wings, faint halo, the whole bit—all of it completely unaffected by the sheets of rain sweeping down from the sky. The entire angelic getup was so melodramatic, it always made him smirk. “I was wondering when you might decide to show up.”
The angel’s gaze followed Madeleine’s progression across the street, sadness glinting in the blue depths of his eyes. Ash never could remember their damned names. He never uttered them anyway, so it made no difference.
Ash turned his back on the winged being, summarily dismissing him. “You’re wasting your time with this one. I’ve been waiting eons for this, as you know, and nothing is going to deter me. So, save your breath. And your prayers. Don’t even think about seeking outside assistance. She’s mine.”
“There isn’t one thing that could persuade you to—”
“No. Not one, not one million. Not for all the stars in the universe would I trade her.”
The angel huffed. “At least give her more time.”
“For what? For you to slink around and try to sabotage me? I’m afraid your appearance has only made me realize I’d better act fast. Perhaps tonight…as she sleeps. I’ll simply rip her soul out, take her home. Show her what she’s been missing all these centuries.”
“She has done nothing to deserve this. I suppose telling you how disgusting you are…”
“Makes no f**king difference whatsoever. Fly away, now.” He set out across the street himself, following Madeleine’s hurried steps before she could round the corner up ahead.
“This won’t be the last you see of me, demon.”
“You’ll be too late.”
“I doubt that.”
When Ash turned to inquire what the angel meant by that pompous, all-too-knowing retort, there was no one behind him. Nimble bastards.
He didn’t have time to puzzle over it. Madeleine’s heels were clicking away toward the parking garage. Well, he’d show that haloed freak. He’d take her right now.
He caught up behind her as she entered the structure, lured by her delicate lavender scent, captivated by the way her gleaming dark hair clung damply to her shoulders. Her dress was a silky black sheath that accentuated every curve—even more so now that it was soaking wet. Her pale calves were full and lush, and he had the sudden vision of wrapping his hands around her slim ankles and pulling them wide apart. Sliding his hands over the fine-grained flesh while she writhed and begged him to hurry and…
There was a snap, and suddenly Madeleine pitched to the right with a gasp, one arm flailing out to break the fall that was inevitable. It would be too little, too late.
He had no idea why he did it. Later, he would curse himself. Without thinking, without hesitation, Ash dropped his shields and dove, catching her mere inches before her head could hit the curb. She struggled in his grasp and turned to look up at him in shock.
Thunder cracked overhead. Clear blue eyes, wide and fearful and crystalline with tears, met his for the first time.
Shit.
That f**king angel had it right, after all.
Chapter Three
“Oh my God,” she gasped, trying to help the stranger as he lifted her and stood her back on her feet. “I’m so sorry. My…the heel of my shoe broke.” She bent over and lifted the ruined shoe, inspecting it with a trembling sigh. “That’s the perfect ending to a shitty night.”
“Sorry to hear,” he said, but there was an ironic edge in his voice that didn’t sound sorry at all.
“It’s no big deal, I guess. I hardly ever wear them.” Maddie placed a hand to her chest, trying to coax her racing heart into a slower rhythm. If he hadn’t caught her…
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, then tilted her head and inspected her savior. He had black hair, pale skin. Dressed in what appeared to be black jeans and a similarly colored shirt. But how the hell had he caught her? He must have been right on her heels. The thought turned her blood to ice water. She hadn’t even heard him, and there was no one around…
He just stood there, watching her. There was something disconcerting about the steady way his gaze rested on her, pulled her in. For a moment, it seemed a struggle to fill her lungs.
Suddenly she became aware that she must look a mess—hair wet, makeup streaked, clothes in disarray. One foot bare. Something about that darkly intense, heated stare made her want to cross her arms over her br**sts, but she resisted the urge. She wasn’t showing much cl**vage. But beneath her slinky dress and slinkier bra—she’d hoped she might get lucky tonight, after all—her n**ples were tightening to stiff little peaks.
“Where did you come from?” she asked, when it appeared he wasn’t going to say anything else. Trying to keep her attention away from him, she leaned down to pull off her other shoe and stood on her bare feet. Her soles breathed a sigh of intense relief.
He shrugged broad shoulders. “I was right behind you, heading to my car. I almost tripped over you. You should really buy higher quality shoes, you know. You could have killed me.” His mouth lifted in a smirk. Little by little, she’d begun to notice things…like the fact that it was a very nice mouth. His eyebrows were straight and set low over deep, mysterious eyes. The ends of his hair brushed his neck in just the right place.
“A man who encourages shoe buying? Awesome. I might have just hit the jackpot.” Well. That had sounded like nothing but a freaking come-on. She wanted to kick herself.
The smirk broke into a very white smile that crinkled his eyes perfectly, and she found herself relaxing a bit and returning it. Hey, don’t get too comfy. Ted Bundy was handsome and charming too. There was definitely a hint of wickedness behind that smile.
And given the way her luck was running lately…
“Well, um…I don’t mean to appear ungrateful, but I have to be going. Thank you for…saving me.” She ended on a nervous laugh. The words seemed pitifully inadequate to her own ears. Her skull would have cracked like a melon on that concrete. A fine tremor still worked through most of her muscles, and she hoped she could take a single step without falling flat on her face.
“Aside from the death of a shoe, what’s been so bad about your night?” he asked, seeming to utterly ignore what she’d just said. His voice was laced with genuine curiosity, so she didn’t mind so much. A hot guy wanted to chat with her. After the rejection she’d just been dealt, it felt pretty good.
Just then a car zoomed past, making her jump. He was waiting for an answer.
“Oh, I don’t want to dump all my problems on you.”
“What a shame. I’m such a good listener.”