Текст книги "Raziel"

Автор книги: Kristina Douglas

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The sounds in the darkness were louder, the animal howls and cries of the lost souls filling the night, and I almost changed my mind. But the ocean breeze came through, calming my nervousness, and I concentrated on that, trying to shut the other noise out of my mind. I moved down to one end of the narrow balcony, peering over the edge.

It didn’t look promising. I could try sliding down the smooth expanse of what might be concrete and hope I landed on the balcony one flight down, but that would get me down only one floor, and there were multiple flights below that.

I found the perfect spot and climbed onto the ledge atop the retaining wall, then sat, staring up into the inky sky, watching as the stars came out, breathing in the night air and the tang of the ocean as a slow, decisive calm began to fill me. Nothing would get to me. No creature was going to rip me into pieces. At least, not now. I was safe here. I had absolutely no idea how I knew it, but I did. This was where I belonged.

Raziel would see to it. If nothing else, I could trust him. Nothing would happen to me. He was down there arguing my case, and he had Sarah for backup. I knew he would keep me safe.

I leaned back, lying down on the ledge to stare at the sky overhead. I wasn’t used to counting on someone else to look after me—I treasured being selfsufficient, needing nothing and no one. My crazy-ass mother had brought me up practically isolated from a normal environment, awash in her extremist religion that was a combination of fundamentalist Christianity and survivalism, seasoned with an odd touch of anti-Semitism. Odd, because my mother had been born Hildegarde Steinberg, of devoutly Orthodox Jewish parents. I never knew who my father was, though she’d insisted they’d been married. I always figured she’d bitten his head off after mating.

It was little wonder I had always considered myself an atheist. I had firmly consigned gods, angels, and demons to the ranks of mythology.

Wrong. I could imagine who was having the last laugh now. Trust me to have found an afterlife ruled by vampires instead of cherubic babies with bare bottoms and tiny harps. I suppose it was better than no afterlife at all, but the Elysian fields would have been preferable.

The animal howls were fading—the walls of Sheol must have held, at least for now. Raziel was on his way back—I seemed to know that as well. Was his annoying mind-fuck a two-way street? Or was it some kind of cosmic GPS? He was coming back to me, and I felt my skin heat beneath the clothing.

His clothing. I should take it off.

I did nothing, lying there on the ledge. I kicked off one loose shoe, letting it drop onto the balcony, then the other. It slipped and went over the edge, and I could hear it, bouncing, hitting against things as it fell, it fell—

I automatically sat up, trying to reach for it even though it was too late, and at the last minute I sat back before I went over as well. I lay back on the ledge, trembling slightly.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the sound of the surf. For a moment I could feel his hands on me, on my breasts, and my body lifted instinctively, then sank back, wiping the image from my mind. Where had that come from?

Two-edged sword, I reminded myself. Was it possible it had come from him? No, it couldn’t be. And I was much better off thinking about Super Fudge Chunk.

Wasn’t there a song about love being better than ice cream, better than chocolate? Did that go for sex as well? And, damn, why was I suddenly plagued with the one-track mind of a horny adolescent boy?

So, I wouldn’t think about ice cream. And I most definitely wouldn’t think about sex. Even though I could almost feel his hands on me, feel my nipples harden in the warm night air, feel him—

Shit, I thought, jerking in protest.

And immediately fell over the edge.

I KNEW THE MOMENT I walked into the council chamber that things were going to take a very ugly turn. Azazel stood at the head of the table, wearing an expression that said there was no negotiating, and the others, most of them, looked equally grim. Only Sarah and Tamlel looked concerned, and that wasn’t enough to keep the rest from disposing of the unfortunate female in the most logical way possible.

I didn’t want to call her by name. For some reason, if I called her by name it would make the damnable tenuous bond between us even stronger. Allegra.

Allie. A thorn in my side, a pain in my ass. But I wasn’t going to let them get to her.

“We will discuss things in order of importance,” Azazel said. “Starting with the Nephilim. They are at our gate. For thousands of years we’ve kept Sheol hidden from them, and suddenly they have found us. They are gathering there—I do not know their number, but all it would take would be a moment of inattention, a slip, and they would overrun us.”

“We can fight,” Michael said. “I don’t know why you assume they would have the upper hand. I say let them in, and we’ll get rid of them once and for all.”

“Assuming we managed to prevail.” Azazel’s voice was stern. “And assuming our numbers are not too greatly diminished, we still have the problem of other Nephilim. They roam throughout the world in search of the Fallen, and if these know of us, then others will follow. It will be battle after battle, death and carnage.”

“So?” Michael said.

“Not all of us are warriors, Michael.”

“We need to be. We are at war, with Uriel and his legion, with the Nephilim who roam and devour at his behest. This won’t be over until the Nephilim are wiped from the face of this earth.”

“And then what do we do? Uriel will send someone else, sooner or later, and I sense it might be sooner.” He turned his cold gaze on me. “What do you know of the girl?”

I tensed. “I was sent to take her. I was about to pass her over to the next life when I saw the flames and pulled her back. I don’t know why—instinct. She had done nothing to merit eternal damnation.”

“And that’s your place to judge?” Azazel said.

I’d known Azazel too long to react. “No. But we shouldn’t follow blindly when our instincts say it’s wrong. That is why we fell in the first place—because we questioned. We failed to follow orders but followed our hearts instead. It’s bad enough when we have to face Uriel’s merciless wrath. If we judge each other, then we are doomed. She didn’t deserve eternal damnation. She’d done nothing.”

“She fornicated outside of marriage. She mocked the covenants. That would be enough for Uriel to condemn her.”

“But not enough for us.” Sarah’s voice broke through, calm and assured. As the Source she had a voice on the Council, one she seldom used. Tonight was different. “Do we aspire to Uriel’s level of perfection? Have we ever considered mindless punishment a reasoned response?”

Azazel’s glance softened for a moment, but he said nothing.

“There’s another possibility we need to discuss.” This was Sammael, usually silent during these meetings, and I looked at him in surprise. I had always been one of Sammael’s closest friends, a mentor of sorts. He hadn’t been among the first of the Fallen, despite folklore, but followed soon after, and his adjustment had been more difficult. Eternal damnation was never easy, but Sammael had once been an idealist. Until Uriel had done with him.

“Yes?” Azazel’s eyes narrowed.

“Her presence here might not be accidental.”

For a moment I was speechless. “You think I betrayed the Fallen—”

“No, my brother,” he said. “I think Uriel might have tricked you. Who is to say she’s not a demon, sent into our midst to betray us to the Nephilim and to Uriel himself? How did the Nephilim suddenly arrive at our gates, when we have remained hidden for thousands upon thousands of years? We have never had a stranger come among us. You, Raziel, have never before stopped to consider who a traveler was or where he or she was heading. You’ve never believed it to be your concern, and the rest of us have felt the same. There are too many to deliver—we can’t stop to pass our own judgment. But something made you stop.” He looked at me, his brown eyes earnest and troubled. “I think she may have cast a spell on you.”

I laughed. “Now you’re saying she’s a witch? I believe we left all that behind many hundreds of years ago.”

“I’m saying she’s a demon. Sent by Uriel to infiltrate and destroy us. You cannot deny he has demons at his command.”

“No,” I said slowly. Uriel ruled over both angels and demons, using them for whatever task he deemed necessary. Once long ago, in a moment of weakness, he’d explained himself: that it was far better for him to rule the demons and dark spirits of the world than let them fall into the hands of the Evil One.

The Evil One he believed to be Lucifer.

We knew there was no source of evil. No Satan, no Iblis, no Prince of Darkness. Evil came from within, just as love and beauty did. Evil was the price humans paid for being alive.

It was a price that had never entered the hallowed confines of Sheol. Unless Sammael was right, and Allie Watson was one of Uriel’s servants.

It would explain a great deal. The attraction I felt to her was irrational, when I had sworn to mate with no human. I liked soft, sweet women, not females who talked back and questioned my decisions and dared to enter my consciousness, as only a bonded mate should do. If she’d been sent by Uriel, then we had only one choice.

Azazel had turned to me. “Does this seem likely? You know her best. Has she been sent to open the gates of Sheol and bring us all to ruin?”

“No,” Sarah said before I could speak. “Absolutely not. She has a reason to be here, one I don’t yet understand, but there is no evil—”

“I was speaking with Raziel,” Azazel said in a cold voice, and Sarah’s mouth snapped shut. I could almost be amused—he was in for trouble tonight—

but I was in no mood to laugh.

“It’s possible,” I said reluctantly. “It would explain a number of anomalies.”

“I think we have no choice, then,” Azazel said. “Either she was properly judged and sentenced to hell, or she is here to destroy us. She needs to be returned to the eternal fires.”

He was right. For her to have been sent there in the first place, there had to be a reason, even if I hadn’t been able to discover it. And if she was a traitor, a demon in our midst, then hell was where she belonged.

“You don’t have to be the one to take her,” Azazel added with a trace of compassion. “One of the others can go.”

I said nothing, refusing to accept their ruling. They couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t let them.

“You’re idiots, all of you,” Sarah snapped, finally having had enough. “Do you no longer trust your Source? Do you think I have no knowledge of what is to be and what is right? None of you count divination among your gifts, but I have seen things.”

“What?” Azazel said sharply.

But Sarah shook her head. “That is not for you to know. Not yet. You may either ignore my counsel and destroy a woman because you think she might be a witch, just like the wicked ones of old. Or you can give her time. Give Raziel time to discover why she’s here.” She turned to look at me. “Are you certain she’s not your mate? That would explain everything.”

It would indeed. It would also be a lie. I had known the women I loved from the first time I saw them. There had been a recognition, a knowledge, a peace that was far removed from the anger I felt around Allegra. Allie.

But I wasn’t going to condemn her to death, not without being certain.

So I lied.

“There is a strong bond between us,” I said, with at least a bit of truth. “And an attraction.”

“Then go to her, Raziel,” Sarah said. “Look into her eyes. You would know a demon if you looked deep enough. Touch her. A demon cannot make love;

they can only steal your essence. It’s a simple test.”

A simple test. Put my hands on Allie Watson and see if she turns into a monster. I would kill her then, if she did. Demons were easy enough to kill as long as you recognized them. Their throats were delicate, easily crushed. All I had to do was taste her. . . .

I wouldn’t do that. I was ready to prove she wasn’t a demon, but I was far from willing to perform the one act that would bind us irrevocably.

“I’ll give you this night, Raziel,” Azazel said. “But no one is to let her move around the compound without a guard. We cannot afford to take any risks. If she’s human, we need to discover if she was sent by Uriel. If she’s a demon . . . kill her. Do you understand?”

“I believe I’ve never been particularly slow,” I said, keeping my anger in check. “If you think I’d have any hesitation about destroying a demon, then you don’t know me very well.”

“In the meantime, no one is to disturb them unless Raziel calls for help,” Azazel warned the others.

“And what if she’s simply an ordinary human woman, unfairly judged by Uriel, who has thrown herself on our mercy?” Sarah demanded.

“We can’t afford to have mercy when Uriel shows none. Whether he’s behind this woman’s presence here or not, we can’t let down our guard.”

I looked at Azazel’s stony face. He was right, of course. I knew it, Sarah knew it. I pushed back from the table, letting no expression cross my face. “I will let you know,” I said, and left the room.

I stopped four flights up, finally alone in the dimly lit stairwell. I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to touch her. She was everything I wanted to keep away from—I didn’t want her mouth or her body, I didn’t want her soul or her heart. It would have been so easy to get rid of her.

To say nothing. Even Sarah had been helpless to stop the inexorable judgment.

I could see her, practically feel her beneath my hands, her breasts, the sweet taste of her skin. It burned inside me. At least my own thoughts and fantasies were shielded from her inquisitive mind. It was the only thing that made the hunger bearable.

I shoved away from the wall, furious with myself. Who the hell did I think I was? I had never shied from a task before, and this was simple enough. Touch her, look into her eyes, and I would know. If the answer was the wrong one, I would snuff out her already dubious existence. I put my hand on the railing and closed my eyes, listening for her.

And then I flew.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IWAS GOING TO FALL, I KNEW IT. MY hands were numb and slippery with sweat, and even though I’d managed to gain a tiny bit of purchase on the masonry with my bare foot, it wasn’t enough to hold me. It was a long way down. How many times can a woman die?I thought wildly. This time there wouldn’t be any coming back from it—if you died in heaven, or whatever the hell this place was, then you must be really dead.

Maybe Raziel could get out of trouble by scooping up my dead body and dropping it into that hole in the middle of nowhere. Would I perk up once I was roasting in hell, or was I going to be lucky enough for a big fat nowhere?

I didn’t want to die. Not again. I didn’t want an endless night, silence, nothingness. I wanted whatever I could grab at, food, sex, music, laughter. But my fingers were slipping, my foot lost what small hold it had, and I felt myself let go, falling backward into the darkness, the brightness of the stars overhead the last thing I was going to see.

And then something moved in front of them, the dark iridescent blue of death, I thought dreamily, when death should have been black, and I smiled. It wasn’t pain after all; it felt as if I were being cradled in someone’s arms. If this was death, then I shouldn’t have been afraid of it. It felt safe, warm, as if I were exactly where I belonged and—

Bright light slammed into my eyes, and I let out a howl as I put up my arm to cover them as someone dumped me on my back. Maybe I was going to end up in hell after all, I thought grumpily, refusing to move my arm. If I didn’t look, maybe it would all go away.

But curiosity had always been a character defect, and the sound of his footsteps was enough to make me move my arm and look. I was back in the apartment, on one of the pristine sofas, and Raziel was just slamming the window shut before turning to look at me, furious. As usual.

“How big an idiot are you?”

I ignored him, sitting up and looking around me with a blazing smile. “I’m not dead,” I announced.

“That depends on your definition,” he said, moving to the door. So he was going to abandon me as quickly as he’d saved me. I couldn’t complain—it was better than being smashed to bits on the terrace below.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. He simply locked the door. I was going to point out that it was already hermetically sealed, but figured he knew what he was doing. He waved his hand and the lights dimmed, and I wondered whether it was cosmic power or some kind of motion sensor. A celestial Clapper.

“What did you think you were doing?”

Well, at least he was talking to me. “I just wanted some fresh air,” I said hopefully. “Someone locked me in, and I don’t like being shut up. I’m claustrophobic.”

“No you’re not. Not anymore. You were looking for a way to get downstairs, weren’t you? So you could see what was going on.” Ah, he knew me too well. Already. “Curiosity is not a trait we value in Sheol. You’re lucky I came in time.”

“Yeah, what about that?” I said in a calm voice. “I thought you knew what I was thinking. I was sending you every distress signal I could come up with.

Why didn’t you come?”

“If I had to spend all my time in your convoluted mind, I’d immolate myself,” he said. “I’d prefer to keep away, but I was coming up here anyway and I thought I’d find out whether you were asleep or not.”

“Hardly asleep. I haven’t had dinner yet.”

It was too dark to see if he rolled his eyes, but I had the definite impression that he’d done the angelic equivalent of it. “You don’t need to eat as often here.”

“It’s not a question of need, it’s a question of want. I eat for the same reason I read. Not for nourishment, but for sensual pleasure,” I said brightly. And then regretted it. Mentioning sensual pleasure opened up a subject that was far too sensitive, as far as I was concerned. I didn’t want him wandering around inside my mind, reading my irrational and badly banked desires.

He was holding himself very still, looking at me, and there was something in the air, a tension that slid beneath my skin. I could feel my heart beating, not the terrified flutter of minutes ago as I’d faced death, but a slow, relentless thudding that seemed almost audible. Damn, I thought.

He made a gesture, and the lights in the kitchen dimmed. The room filled with shadows, making me even more nervous. “You know, a gas fireplace would be nice in here,” I said in a conversational tone, trying to lessen the tension that rippled beneath the surface. “It would make it cozy.”

I half-expected him to wave his arm and a magic fireplace to appear, and then I shook myself. He wasn’t a genie, granting my three wishes. Though I wasn’t sure exactly what he was, at least as far as I was concerned.

“Since even a match could end up destroying me, I don’t find fireplaces cozy at all. You’ll have to do without one.”

I’d forgotten. “Good point,” I said brightly, trying not to look at him. I’d always had a healthy interest in sex, in men, but more often than not I found better things to do. I had better orgasms on my own, something that would doubtless shock the slightly prudish Raziel, and I’d often found boyfriends not worth the trouble. So why did I suddenly have to become obsessed with someone?

“I’m not prudish.”

“Shit!” I shrieked as if I’d been pinched. I could feel the color flood my face. How could I have forgotten? His ability to hear my thoughts was almost the worst thing about this entire experience.

“Worse than dying?”

“Stop it!” I snapped, thoroughly flustered.

“How are your hands? Are you hurt?”

I looked down at them. My fingers were red, cramped, and I pushed off from the couch. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll just run some water over them.” I wanted to get away from his far-too-observant eyes.

“You don’t need to.”

He was standing between me and the kitchen, effectively blocking the way. “I think that’s my decision,” I said, trying to circumvent him.

He was too big to get around. Before I could guess his intention he’d taken both my hands in his, and his touch zinged through my arms like an electric shock. I jumped back, tripping over my own bare feet in my effort to get away from him.

He caught my elbow as I fell, righting me, then releasing me immediately. “You’re very clumsy, aren’t you?” he observed.

It didn’t do any good to guard my tongue—he already knew what I was thinking. “You make me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Let me count the ways,” I said. “You’re a guardian angel who tried to toss me into the flames of hell; you’re a vampire; you think I’m a pain in the butt;

and if it weren’t for you, I’d be alive and living in New York City, minding my own business.”

For a moment he said nothing. Then he spoke. “First of all, I’m not a guardian angel, not yours or anyone’s. Guardian angels don’t exist—they’re just folklore.”

“Sure they are. Like vampires.”

He ignored that. “Second, you are most definitely a pain in the butt. You’ve disrupted my life as badly as I’ve disrupted yours—”

“I doubt that,” I broke in dryly.

“Let me finish. If it were not for me, you’d be in hell right now. You were scheduled to die, and nothing can contravene that. Normally you would have simply ended up in the dark place. Most people don’t have escorts, only the ones Uriel deems necessary. I have no idea why he thought you were so important—at first glance, you seem ordinary enough.”

“Thanks so much,” I said.

“But he had something in mind. You must have offended him with your books. Uriel is easily offended.”

“I’m harmless,” I protested, fully believing it.

“I doubt that. As for my being a blood-eater, that is no concern of yours. It has nothing to do with what is between us.”

His words gave me an uncomfortable jolt. “What’s between us? There’s nothing between us.”

“Of course there is.” He moved away from me then, and I found I could breathe normally again. Or at least more normally. Apparently I’d been holding my breath, though I wasn’t quite sure why.

I could see him quite well through the thick shadows. The light from the bedroom pooled at the entrance to the main room, and I could see the glitter of his strange eyes, the expression of weariness across the elegant lines of his face. He pushed his hair away from his face, as if pushing something unacceptable away from him. And then he lifted his head to look at me.

And I knew what was coming next, as clearly as if I’d thought of it myself.

“No,” I said flatly.

A faint smile curved his mouth. “No, what? I didn’t ask you anything.”

“Just no,” I said, refusing to show how nervous he made me. I moved, suddenly busy. “Do you have extra sheets, maybe a pillow? I can make up the couch for the night until we find someplace else for me to sleep. I certainly don’t want to drive you out of your bedroom, though you were very kind to have brought me in there last night. At least, I assume it was you—maybe Sarah was responsible, which is very like her. She’s quite kind, and I’m sorry I ever suggested she was—”

“Be quiet, Allie,” he said.

It was the first time he’d used my name. Not my full name, but the more familiar nickname. I froze, my words vanishing, as if he’d shut them off with a wave of his hand as he had the lights.

He approached me slowly, and a part of me wanted to run. Not that there was any place to go except straight off the balcony. He’d locked the front door.

Why?

He stopped directly in front of me, too close for me to escape, crowding me and yet not touching me. “Look at me,” he said in a low, soothing voice.

“I am.”

He shook his head and made another gesture, and overhead lights I hadn’t known existed blazed on. They should have been blinding, but I was already in some kind of daze. “Open your eyes and look at me,” he said again, and his soft voice had steel beneath it.

So I did. Looked up into his gloriously striated eyes, almost like those of a cat. Looked up and felt him invade me, as surely as if he had me underneath him, skin to skin. He was inside me, an act of complete possession, and I tried to say something, to protest, but all that came out was a soft, defensive mew of pain. He didn’t retreat, and I felt staked, like a butterfly with a giant pin through my heart. I could feel my body lift, rise slightly, and I knew I was no longer touching the floor. I tried to push him out, but he was much too strong to fight. All I could do was remain there, suspended, as he scoured my body, and I felt a scream inside my chest, my heart, desperate to escape.

And then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over, and he released me. The bright lights vanished, my feet touched the floor, and I collapsed, nerveless.

He caught me as I fell, and I wanted to scream at him, to hit him, but I couldn’t summon the energy. He set me down on the sofa with unexpected gentleness. “Lie down,” he murmured. “It will pass in a moment.”

I had no choice. I lay back, trying to catch my breath, trying to fight the sharp pain between my breasts, as if he’d caught my heart in his fist and squeezed it. I closed my eyes, and felt everything begin to fade. I had long enough to wonder if I was dying all over again, if Raziel had done something to end me. And then darkness came down.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ISAT BACK ON THE SOFA ACROSS from her, watching her. Even in the shadowy light she was color against the soothing white, the richness of her thick brown hair, the warm tones of her skin, the black silk of the clothes she’d taken from me. She was heat, she was fire, deadly to me, and yet somehow irresistible.

She was no demon. I was as sure of that as I could possibly be, short of taking her blood. She was human, and vulnerable despite her attempts to shock me. She was vulnerable, and the best thing I could do was leave her alone.

I couldn’t. Not after the Grace of Knowing. Looking so deeply into her had been an act of intimacy from which there was no coming back. There was a bond between us that I didn’t want, but it existed anyway, and it was purely sexual. An animal need that I wasn’t going to fight anymore. I was going to fuck her. I could imagine Uriel howling, and I thought the word again. Fuck. I was going to take her bed and wear myself out with her, and when she was climaxing I would look into her eyes and know the last bit of her, the place where even a demon couldn’t hide. I would fuck her and make her come and know her.

And if she was a demon, I would kill her.

She stirred. She was going to be angry with me for what I’d done to her, and I didn’t blame her. It was an invasion, one she’d accepted. One of many she’d accept.

I could scoop her up and carry her into the bedroom, have her clothes off before she realized what I was doing. It would simplify matters. But just as she had allowed me to look inside her, she would have to allow me to be inside her. And if she had any remaining defenses, they would shatter as she did.

She moved, then lay still. “You son of a bitch,” she said quietly.

“I’m not the son of anything. How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been violated.”

“That’s about right.”

She sat bolt upright and glared at me, ready for battle. “And I don’t suppose you feel any remorse.”

“Why should I? I needed to see if you were a demon.”

She looked at me blankly for a moment. “A demon? Do they even exist? Hell, of course they do. Angels and demons and vampires and cannibals.

What other treats do you have in store? Shape-shifters? Werewolves?”

I didn’t move. I was hard, and had been since I’d gone into her, my body desperate to follow. And I knew, even as I’d pulled back, that I’d left enough behind that her defenses would be down.

I needed them that way. More than anything on this earth or the next, I wanted to be able to walk away from her. To leave my rooms, report to Azazel that she was an innocent, and leave her disposal up to them.

But I was afraid disposalwould be the operative word. And even in such a short time, we’d come too far for me to let them take her. Too far for me to turn my back on her.

If Uriel had sent her to infiltrate us, then he would have sent her well armed. The Grace of knowing was powerful, but underestimating Uriel was always a mistake. I was sure she was innocent, caught by a series of coincidences. But I couldn’t afford to be wrong.

She was still glaring at me, her eyes shuttered. I had seen all she would let me see. If I wanted to be certain, to protect Sheol as it needed to be protected, then I had no choice.

I was prepared for resistance. I had kept out of her head as much as I could, but there was no mistaking that she felt the same bond I felt. The same intense, sexual need that I was an expert at denying, had been denying since the moment she had come into my world, thanks to those terrible shoes that had caused her death. I’d been counting on that resistance, along with my own, but that was out the window. The Grace of knowing was not enough.

I rose, and reached my hand out to her. “No,” she said.

I waited. I could do anything I wanted with her. I could force her, then wipe the memory from her brain. I could simply take her blood, just enough to read her, not enough to make me sick. Blood from anyone but the Source or my bonded mate was dangerous, even in small amounts, but it was a risk I had to take.

“Come with me, Allie,” I said. And I made her move, because I could. “Come.” And she rose.

I DIDNT WANT TO MOVE. It didn’t matter. He pulled me up and stood over me. I hated tall men—they made me feel weak and inconsequential. I was still wearing his clothes, his black jacket, his black T-shirt, his black silk trousers. He took the lapels of the jacket and pushed it off my shoulders, down my arms. I stood still, knowing I ought to argue, protest, anything but stand there and let him slide the jacket off me and toss it behind him onto the sofa.

He reached for the hem of my T-shirt, and I wanted to back away, but my feet were rooted to the floor. I tried to stem my panic. This was the fulfillment of a fantasy that obsessed half the teenage girls in the world. It didn’t matter. Having sex with a fallen-angel-slash-vampire was a really bad idea.