realized it led off from the assembly room.
“Come see your rooms.”
“The bed in the infirmary is just fine—”
“No, I’m talking about Azazel’s rooms. And yours.”
“I am not—I repeat, not—going to share rooms with Azazel. I’ll mate with him, do the bonding-blood thing, but that’s it. Afterward we can go our separate ways.”
Allie shook her head. “No, you can’t. It’s permanent. A tie that can’t be broken, except by death.”
“Death didn’t seem to break the tie between Azazel and Sarah.” I hated the thought of her existence, even though she had been only one of an endless line of human wives he’d outlived.
“That was more the circumstances of her death than the tie between them,” Allie said gently. “Sarah would have let him go, wanted him to let go. But Azazel can be very stubborn, and he was filled with rage and had no way to vent it.”
“Except to go after a demon. Why me? Why did he suddenly decide that he had to kill me?”
“Because of the prophecy, of course. You were supposed to take Sarah’s place. He wanted to make certain that was impossible.” She was trying to make it reasonable, but I wasn’t buying it.
“By disposing of the demon,” I said.
“Yes. But you need to realize he didn’t know you were no longer a demon,” she said fairly. “He thought you were a monster who killed babies.”
“He shouldn’t believe the bad publicity.”
“He wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“And I’m supposed to forgive him? Because he didn’t know?”
“I don’t know that he wants your forgiveness,” Allie said. “I don’t think he’s there yet. He’s too caught up in guilt.”
“Tough,” I snapped, feeling brutal. “I’m not sharing the rooms, the bed he shared with his beloved Sarah.” I was horrified to realize that I sounded jealous. What was wrong with me?
“You won’t be. These are new rooms. It seemed wisest—Azazel is better off without the Alpha quarters.”
“But I thought Raziel was the Alpha.” I was trying not to think about Saint Sarah and her sleeping arrangements. I was trying not to think about why I was feeling such resentment. But I was being eaten up with jealousy.
“Raziel has only been the Alpha since Sarah died. The only Alpha the Fallen have ever had besides Azazel. So you don’t have to worry about any old memories getting in the way of your relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” I said.
Allie just smiled.
A few minutes later she pushed open the heavy wooden door to the suite and gestured me inside. I paused for a moment, taking it in.
The living room was beautiful. Almost Japanese in its simplicity, with low-slung couches and lower tables, it felt quiet and peaceful. Almost as if it were waiting for someone.
“The bedroom’s just beyond,” Allie said helpfully, and I couldn’t avoid it.
It was beautiful as well, with a huge bed as the centerpiece. A bed I’d share with Azazel, I thought, grimacing. It was a lovely room, and the bathroom was a sybarite’s dream. I could be happy in these rooms. If I didn’t have to share them.
“Whose rooms were these?” I asked, running my hand along the thick silk coverlet on the bed. It was deep red, the color of wine. The color of blood, I thought absently. Maybe they wanted to hide the stains.
“Tam’s last wife was into decorating, and she wanted to make a honeymoon suite. No one’s used it—you won’t find any memories here.”
I took one last look around me, then nodded and headed back into the living room. “All right,” I said. “I like it. The question is, where do I sleep until we do this mating thing?”
Allie’s expression was one of grave concern. “Didn’t you realize, Rachel? It’s going to be tonight.”
Shit, I thought, taking another look around me. “What if I’m not ready?”
“Have you changed your mind? You’re allowed to.”
“No, I haven’t changed my mind. I just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.”
“We might as well get it over and done with,” Azazel’s voice came from the doorway.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SHE LOOKED AS IF SHE EXPECTED him to cut her throat in order to drink her blood, Azazel thought grimly. He still wasn’t sure why the hell she’d agreed to this. He’d expected he’d have to spend days, weeks, breaking down her resistance. No one had been more shocked when she’d returned to the council chamber and announced she’d do it.
She had a trace of sunburn on her nose. No wonder—with her flaming hair she had very pale skin, and she’d headed straight out into the midday sun. He’d kept an eye on her through the council-room windows, watched her as she sat staring at the water. He’d known the moment she’d made up her mind, known by the squaring of her shoulders. He just hadn’t known what that decision would be.
And now she was here, in the Alpha’s rooms, looking at him like he was her worst nightmare. She was right. If he’d left her alone two years ago, she could have had a peaceful life. The demon inside her had probably already left
