Gone.”
Frustration filled me. “And what do I replace it with?”
“If Uriel has his way, absolutely nothing.”
“You think the Nephilim are coming as well?” I shivered, pulling the sweater more closely around me.
“Sarah told you that, did she? We all know it. We just don’t know when. But it seems as if your arrival was some sort of signal. One last piece of disobedience on the part of the Fallen.”
“You mean it’s
“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine, for pulling you back. But the truth is of little matter. Uriel would find a way sooner or later, and the presence of the Nephilim at our gates means it will be sooner.”
I digested this. I’d died once in the last three days. If it happened again, at least I’d have some experience.
I was watching him as he sat on the coach opposite me, wary. “Would you answer a question?”
“It depends on the question.”
“Why did we have sex last night? You said it was necessary. Sarah said it had something to do with finding out whether I was evil or not. Why don’t you tell me the truth.”
“Sarah’s right,” he said. “But you don’t need to worry. It won’t—”
“Happen again,” I jumped in. “You needn’t bother to explain—I already knew what you were going to say.”
He looked disturbed at the idea. “You did?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You needed to find out if I was evil, and for some reason having sex with me was the only way to do it. That seems far-fetched, but I’ll accept it. But we’ve done it, it’s over, I passed inspection, so there’s no need to repeat it, right?”
“Right.”
“So why did we do it twice?” I said it to make him uncomfortable, not because I expected a real answer.
He didn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable. He leaned back on the sofa, watching me, his eyelids drooping lazily as if he weren’t paying much attention. But he was, I knew it instinctively. I was beginning to understand a lot about him on a purely instinctive level.
“Just to remove any doubts,” he said deliberately. “A quick fuck up against a wall might not have given me quite enough information. Which is why I had to . . . taste you. Blood never lies. People do. Bodies do. Blood, never.”
I squirmed. “What kind of angel uses words like
He cocked an eyebrow. “Fallen ones.” He tilted his head, observing me like I was a scientific specimen he was about to stick a pin through, and I remembered that feeling from the night before as he searched inside me. “In truth, it might be better if everyone thinks we’re in the midst of a torrid sexual affair. The Fallen don’t like anomalies, and if you can act as if your only interest is being in bed with me, it should make everyone less nervous.”
Not much of a stretch, I reflected, then tried to slam down the thought.
Too late. “That’s good,” he drawled. “It’s what everyone will expect—anything else would be a red flag.”
“You’re supposed to be that good?” I mocked him, trying for distance.
“It’s the nature of the beast,” he replied “Bondings are never casual. Intense, consuming, occasionally dangerous, but never casual. You can spend most of your time up here, if you prefer not to have me touching you. It would probably be safer.”
He was hoping I’d choose that option— it didn’t take a psychic or someone with angelic superpowers to figure that out. He wanted—needed—distance from me even more than he had before. I just couldn’t figure out why.
“There’s no need to overthink things, Allie,” he said. “We simply have to keep things quiet until Uriel forgets about you.”
“The archangel Uriel is forgetful?” I said doubtfully.
“No. But we can hope.”
I stared at him. “No.”
“No what?” he said, rising and heading for the kitchen, secure in the belief that the conversation had ended.
“You’re not going to sacrifice yourself for me, you’re not going to stash me where Uriel can’t find me, and this conversation has not ended.” And with a mixture of dawning horror and delight, I knew I’d read his mind.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE FIRST FLOOR WAS DESERTED when Sarah made her way up from the kitchens. Everyone was too tense to eat, the kitchen staff were in disarray, and it was up to her to keep things running smoothly. The long hike made her a little breathless, and she waited for a moment to regain her composure. If Azazel realized she was having trouble breathing he would overreact, and the Fallen couldn’t afford to have that happen right now.
With everything else he was calm, measured, unemotional, able to make the hard decisions without flinching. He would have condemned Allie to Uriel’s hell, and he would have been the one to take her, if necessary. He wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
But if he knew Sarah was getting weaker, it would distract him, and right now Sheol needed his undivided attention.
The Nephilim were at their gates. She could hear their howls and moans in the night, the hideous, bone-chilling sounds as they attacked the impenetrable door. Impenetrable for now, but sooner or later they would get through. Someone was a traitor, the Nephilim horde would be shown a way to break through the barriers, and there would be a bloodbath.
She knew it. Azazel knew it. She wondered how many of the Fallen were aware of what awaited them. Quite possibly most of them.
Her breathing had steadied now. She checked her pulse—it was slow and even. People lived longer, healthier lives in Sheol. But they couldn’t live forever, and her life was drawing to a close. Sooner than it should have in this sacred place, but she accepted it. Azazel, however, would not.
She pushed away from the long sideboard in the front hall and went to her husband. He was down by the water—her knowledge was instinctive and sure. She knew him so well, knew how he’d fight to keep her. But in the end there was nothing he could do. She would have to leave, and he would go on.
He didn’t turn when she joined him on the moonlit beach. He was sitting on the grass, and she sat beside him, leaning against him as he put his arm around her waist. She pressed her face against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of him. Her blood kept him alive—their joining was so complete they seldom had need for words.
But tonight she felt like talking. “I’ve been talking with Allie.”
He settled her more comfortably against him. “He really did bed her, didn’t he?”
“Most thoroughly. Though there was only the slightest scratch on her neck, and it hadn’t healed. But he would have taken enough to be certain—Allie is not your traitor.”
“I know,” he said, not sounding happy about it. “And how is she?”
“That poor creature,” Sarah said with a laugh.
“She’ll manage,” Azazel said with his customary lack of sentiment.
“I’m talking about Raziel. He doesn’t realize what he’s gotten himself into. She knew where he was.”
That was enough to make Azazel sit up straight and look down at her. “Are you certain? Maybe she just guessed.”
Sarah shook her head. “She knew. It won’t be long before she can read his thoughts just as he reads hers. And he’s not going to like it.”
Azazel managed a dry laugh. “He’ll hate it. So you’re telling me this woman really is his bonded mate? And she can already hear him? That’s extraordinary.”
“So it appears. No wonder he hauled her back from the pit Uriel had consigned her to. Clearly it wasn’t an accident. What bothers me is why Uriel set it up. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Raziel was supposed to dispose of his bonded mate.”
“Why should it surprise you? If Uriel can deprive us of our bonded mates, it weakens us. He can’t kill us, can’t send his legion of soldiers against us without sufficient reason. All he can do is torture us. As long as Raziel has no mate, he will remain at less than full strength. That’s the way Uriel wants us, if he can’t have us dead. Too bad for him it backfired.”
Sarah smiled. “Raziel’s still fighting it.”
“That’s his problem, not ours. He needs to claim her and feed, but he’s a stubborn bastard. He’s going to have to figure this out on his own. I just hope it doesn’t take him too long. We need him at full strength, the sooner the better.” He looked out toward the ocean, his blue eyes wintry. “What about the woman?”
“Oh, I think she knows, deep inside. She may have always known. She’s probably going to fight it as well.”
Azazel sighed. “Just what we need. Soap operas in Sheol.”
A bestial scream rent the night air, and Sarah shivered. “The Nephilim are coming closer,” she said in a low voice.
“Yes.”
“They’re going to get in, sooner or later.”
“Probably sooner,” he said in his pragmatic voice.
She managed a shaky laugh. “Couldn’t you at least lie to me, tell me everything will be all right?”
He looked down at her, reaching up to brush her moonlit silver hair away from her face with a tender hand. “Now, what good would that do me? I don’t shield my thoughts. Unlike you,” he added.
“You really don’t want to know some of the things that go on in my tortured mind,” she said lightly. If he knew what was going to happen, he would try to do something to stop it, and there were things that couldn’t be changed. Her death was one of those things, whether she liked it or not.
He rose, pulling her up into his arms, against his hard, strong body. Once her body had almost equaled his,
