Dark Kiss (Harlequin Teen) (11 page)

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 have. 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.

I looked at him again with astonishment that he’d agreed to this. This weapon was incredibly important to his mission and he was letting me—a so-called
gray—
take it for a test drive.

But he was right about one thing—it would take a lot of motivation and strength for me to be able to stab someone in the chest with it. But hurting him was the last thing on my mind right now.

“You are different,” he said after a moment, studying me as we passed under the light of a streetlamp. “Different from anyone I’ve ever met. I wish I knew why.”

Ever?
I found it difficult to breathe for a moment. “Is that a compliment or an observation?”

He grinned. “Both.”

Focus, Samantha,
I told myself. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by this beautiful, dangerous angel on his mission from Heaven. He was a means to get my soul back; that was the only reason I was here right now. I already had enough painful bee stings racked up this year, I didn’t need another one
.

I wished I knew what he was thinking. He kept saying things that made me believe he thought of me as more than just a friendly neighborhood soulless monster. He watched me out of the corner of his eye as if he wasn’t sure how to deal with me being near him.

But he didn’t try to put distance between us. In fact, he was a little
too
close right now—so close I could feel the warmth from his body. My head felt cloudy again.

I inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. “So if I’m helping you, then I’m sort of on your team, right?”

He did look at me this time, his eyes an intense shade of indigo in the moonlight. “I don’t have much longer to find the others, or the searchlights showing their locations will go out. Then I won’t be able to find them at all. They’ll wander the streets not knowing who they really are or why they’re here. There’s not enough time for us to play around.”

Again, he was sidestepping my questions. “I’m not feeling very playful at the moment.”

“You’re helping me find the others, that’s all. You’re not really a part of this.”

The frustration inside me bubbled over. “If I’m not a part of this, why do you need my help? Maybe I should call it a night. I forgot I have some homework to do. Even grays like me need to get good grades if they want to go to college.”

It was a pathetic attempt to get him to say he needed me, that I was in this now whether I liked it or not. A small, scared part of me did want to help him, despite everything. I knew this was important.

“You won’t be going to college if you don’t help me. You’re trapped in this city with the others for as long as you’re missing your soul.”

“Because of this barrier you told Stephen is around the whole city right now keeping grays from leaving.”

He nodded. “If it’s any consolation it contains angels and demons, too. Anything supernatural. Anything nonhuman.”

I gritted my teeth. I didn’t want him to see that this possibility had completely floored me. “Fine. Then I’ll go to a
local
college.” I glared at him. “I guess it’s different where you come from, but here if you want somebody to do something for you, you’re supposed to be nice to them. Letting me carry your shiny weapon isn’t nearly good enough.”

He glared back at me. “I’m nice.”

I laughed out loud. “Try again. Look, I know you’re having issues with relying on me to do these bizarre errands for you. But you do need me, right?”

He pressed his lips together, his gaze sinking so deeply into me that I again found it hard to walk straight. I took that as a yes. That made things simple, really, whether he agreed or not.

We passed a bookstore with several people standing outside smoking. I tucked the heavy dagger under my jacket until we were out of view again. It wasn’t the most natural thing to be carrying around.