Dirty Angel (Sainted Sinners #1) (9 page)

F
lying
with Vesper in his arms was a strange experience for Kirael. On one hand, all he could think about was how incredibly fragile she was, how if anything happened, if he made a single mistake, it would be fatal.

On the other hand, despite the fact he was fairly certain that some of Darren’s mages were tracking them across the city, Kirael was enjoying the moment. It was perverse, but feeling Vesper’s soft curves pressed against him, the calm and trusting look on her face…

For the first time in memory, Kirael was glad that he was Fallen. Angels were awe-inspiring creatures, but their rigid purity of being kept them from many things. Everything was very black and white for them, nothing in between.

Complex emotions, like the guilty pleasure Kirael felt as he held Vesper close… angels couldn’t experience that. Nor did they have enough empathy to truly engage with humans.

Especially humans as perplexing as Vesper. Tough as nails, but willing to lay down her life and literally walk into Hell for her sister. Beautiful, but utterly uninterested in her own looks. Brave, even in the face of deep-seated doubts.

Then there was the effect she had on Kirael… it seemed that, of late, every single time he saw her he felt…

Well, he
longed
. That was a feeling he’d never experienced for a person — the only real longing he’d ever felt was his desire to return to Heaven, to undo the damage he’d wrought.

If he were feeling especially honest, he might be able to admit that the sense of longing he felt for Heaven was mostly regret, mixed with an unspeakable guilt.

When he looked at Vesper, his longing was… complicated. His body tensed when he got a whiff of her scent. His stomach turned over when she gave him one of her rare smiles. She’d been on his mind the last few days, without a doubt.

She was unique; perhaps that was the sum of his restless curiosity.

Still, he didn’t hesitate to take his time losing their pursuers, spend a little longer with Vesper in his arms. At some point, she seemed to lapse into sleep, or at least grow quiet and still.

He took her up as far as her need for oxygen allowed, flew her way out toward the Louisiana coast before spiraling back in towards New Orleans.

He told himself that he was just being cautious, that a few extra wide circles around the city would be prudent.

Nothing more than that. He was Fallen, she was a highly independent human with a messy, busy life. There could be no more than that, except perhaps the most occasional moments of friendship.

Fool
, a voice in his head sounded.
This is a path you cannot travel.

Pushing the whole matter from his thoughts, Kirael slowly descended toward the French Quarter. Vesper stirred moments before he touched down in the alley beside his house.

He tucked his wings in, sadly vanishing them.

Vesper stretched and blinked at the place where his wings were before, then stared up at him for a few moments. “We’re back?”

“That we are.”

Kirael set her on her feet, steadying her when she wobbled for a moment. She made a frustrated sound.

“I think my right foot fell asleep,” she said, shaking her bare foot.

“Will you live?” Kirael asked. The joke slipped from his mouth before he thought better of it, surprising them both.

“I…” Vesper said, then laughed. “Yes, I guess I will.”

She moved toward the main street, clearly trying to determine their location.

“We’re next to my place,” Kirael said, nodding toward his apartment. “Darren sent some of his people to follow us. I’m fairly sure I lost them, but… it probably wouldn’t hurt to lay low here for a while.”

“Oh yeah?” she said, arching a brow.

“Unless your apartment is also warded with a spell of secrecy,” Kirael said, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. “Must you make everything difficult?”

A strange look flashed on Vesper’s face, something close to hurt. “No. I’m just trying to be practical.”

“Come on, then,” Kirael said, walking over to the side entrance of his apartment. “If you’ll lend me your keys, I’ll have someone go pick up some clothes and things for you.”

“No! No,” Vesper said, shaking her head. “I’ll have my coworker drop some stuff off.”

He pressed his fingertips against a flat black electronic screen to the left of the door. After a moment, a buzzer sounded and the door opened with a mechanical whirr.

“Fancy,” he heard Vesper mutter as he opened the door and motioned her inside.

“Not my doing,” he said with a shrug. “After you.”

He followed her up the two flights of stairs, then opened the second security door by typing a ten-digit numerical passcode into another electronic pad.

Once they stepped into his apartment, Kirael realized his mistake. There was nothing to
do
in his apartment. He had a two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, and personal gym. Plenty for him, but…

He’d never entertained a guest here before, unless he counted Mere Marie’s random appearances. In fact, the moment he brought Vesper here before was the first time he’d ever allowed
anyone
in his home.

Vesper didn’t notice his discomfort, making her way into his kitchen without a moment’s hesitation.

“Where are the glasses?” she asked, opening a cabinet at random.

“Left of the sink,” he said.

Vesper poured herself a glass of water, then took a long drink. Turning to face him, she leaned against his kitchen counter. “Now what?”

“That wasn’t enough excitement for you?” he asked, amused.

“I didn’t ask you to juggle,” she fired back, but he noticed a sparkle of humor in her eyes. “I meant that we should sit down and plot out our next few moves, get ahead of the curve.”

“Tomorrow,” he said with a shrug. “Tonight, I plan to have a glass of expensive whisky and then rest.”

Maybe two glasses of whisky, to make sure he didn’t toss and turn and try to suss out the mystery of Vesper tonight.

“That actually sounds pretty good,” she said, finishing her water and returning to the sink for a second glass.

“Right this way,” he said, leading her into the living room.

Vesper dropped onto one end of the couch. Kirael felt her eyes on his back as he moved to the side board where he kept his small stash of fine whiskeys, pouring two glasses.

When he handed her a glass, she set her water aside and rose, taking a sip. For a long moment, there was palpable tension in the air.

Another first; Kirael couldn’t remember ever feeling
awkward
around someone before.

Vesper walked over to examine the two racks of DVDs that hung on the wall beside his flat screen TV. After a second, she made an amused sound.

“The Dresden Files, huh?” she asked.

“Are you a fan?” he asked, taking a seat on the couch.

“I like the show,” she said with a shrug. “Since he’s sort of supposed to be in our world, it feels a little silly.” She paused, “Then again, I watch Buffy, so…”

“I don’t know what that is,” he said.

Her immediate look of horror almost made him laugh out loud.

“You’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” she asked, like he’d just admitted to killing puppies for fun.

“I have not.”

“Oh man,” she said, giving her head a disbelieving shake. “Do you have Netflix?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s the remote?” she asked, growing impatient.

Retrieving it from the table beside him, he handed it over. Vesper had the whole thing set up in very short order, explaining the whole thing to him. Most of it went over his head, but he didn’t mind.

Her excitement was entertaining. She started the show, even going so far as to turn off the lights. Vesper sat beside him on the couch, launching into a detailed explanation of the show and the characters.

“And that’s Spike… he’s my favorite, such a badass…” she said. Kirael wondered if she realized that she had a huge smile pasted on her face.

After a full episode, Kirael had to admit he liked it, though he couldn’t match Vesper’s excitement.

“It’s basically amazing,” she said, beaming.

“It’s not very surprising that you like it,” he said. “Seeing as you’re kind of the real-life version of her, right?”

Vesper’s expression turned to sheer astonishment, her mouth dropping open for a moment. “I… that’s… really nice of you to say…”

Kirael had to laugh at that. “Well, different hair… but you both slay demons, don’t you?”

“I don’t slay them,” she qualified. “But… yeah. I know it’s dumb that I even like this show, since it’s basically a TV show about my actual job. But there’s a lot of interpersonal drama too.”

“Yeah, and everyone is really attractive,” he said with a wink.

Her cheeks went bright pink, which made Kirael’s smile grow wider. She sipped her whisky and glanced away, setting it on the coffee table.

Then as he watched, Vesper sucked in a breath, tipping her head back and looking up at him with wide eyes. Her gaze dropped to his lips for a moment, then she moved to press her lips to his.

Kirael struggled not to growl low in his chest. She was all heat and sweetness, her lips soft and inviting. She leaned into him, her lush breasts brushing his chest, one small hand coming up to cup the back of his neck.

Kirael couldn’t resist the siren’s call of her touch. He buried one hand in her hair, his thumb under her jaw to control the angle of the kiss.

He teased her lips with his tongue and she opened for him. He took his time, teasing and nipping, until she moaned into his mouth.

Fallen were no strangers to seduction, by any means. Kirael knew exactly how to draw a woman into his bed, had a calculated strategy for times when seduction might be necessary for a mission, or to appease his own boredom.

Usually by now he’d be formulating every single step in his head, anticipating, pushing the whole thing forward as quickly as possible.

With Vesper, though, it all fell away.

There was just
her
. Her taste, the soft sounds she made. The way she inched closer and closer. The feel of her fingers tugging gently at his hair, just at the nape of his neck.

He wanted to bend her back on the couch, strip off her dress, taste her exquisite skin. He wanted her on top, breasts bouncing as she rode him until she came, shouting his name.

He didn’t wonder if she would be good. He
knew
she would be everything he could want, that she would probably blow his mind.

And yet… though he could have taken things further, likely even taken her to bed, gotten her out of his system and off his mind…

He didn’t. He kept the kiss hot but controlled. Cupped her breast over her shirt, just to hear the sharp intake of her breath, just to know that she wanted him.

This will have to be enough
, he told himself.
You are on a mission. You have nothing to offer her. Taking it any further would be the ultimate act of selfishness.

When Vesper lifted the hem of his shirt, her warm fingers exploring his hip, he broke the kiss. Sighing, he leaned his forehead against hers for a beat, eyes closed.

“I have nothing to give you, Vesper,” he said. He wanted to say more, to explain himself, but he lacked the words.

“I—” she started, then stopped. She pulled away from him, shaking off his touch. “Okay.”

“I have a guest bedroom,” he said.

Her gaze narrowed for a second, then she shrugged. “Fine.”

“I have some things to do, so I’ll just show you where it is,” he said, clearing his throat.

His second experience with awkwardness bloomed, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

He stood, turning the TV off, and walked her to the guest room. After a brief explanation of where she could find towels for the guest bathroom, he left to dig up a shirt for her to sleep in.

When he brought it to her, she gave him a glassy look.

“Thanks,” she said, then shut the bedroom door in his face.

I suppose I deserved that
, he thought.

Heading back to the living room, he picked up both the empty whisky glasses and carried them to the kitchen. He rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher, his mind turning over and over the same thoughts.

What is this pull I feel toward Vesper?

And,
does she feel the connection, or just physical desire?

And,
why in the name of Lucifer am I this concerned about what anyone thinks?

Then,
she’s just a human woman.

And,
so why can’t I stop thinking about her?

Growing tired of the cycle, Kirael went to his bedroom and changed into gym shorts, then headed to his miniature gym. It just had a treadmill, free weights, a heavy bag, and some other small equipment, but it was his escape.

He went at the punching bag for a good fifteen minutes, working out a little of his pent-up aggression. Then some weights, to stick with his usual routine.

Finally, he jumped rope for twenty minutes and hit the treadmill for thirty, running until he was about to fall down.

When Kirael finally showered and sought his bed, he felt a strange combination of exhaustion and restlessness. He closed his eyes, desperate now for sleep, but still he felt…

Unsettled. Unfinished.

Unsatisfied.

Rolling over and covering his face with a pillow, he groaned.

If he’d thought his fascination with Vesper dangerous before, now it was doubly so. He absolutely could not afford this distraction, not when he had too far to travel on his road to redemption.

Not only that, but getting involved with Vesper would be wrong. She might be every bit as amazing as her hero Buffy, but she had no real idea just how bad Kirael’s past was…

If she’d flinched at his admission of being an assassin, she’d certainly turn tail and run if she heard a fraction of the things he
truly
regretted doing. Kirael was as bad as one of Buffy’s villains, and his attempts at penitence didn’t change that one bit.

Tossing the covers back, he crept back into the hallway. Feeling ridiculous, he put his ear to her door, listening.