RiskingEternity (6 page)

“This has upset you?”

“What was your first clue?” she snapped.

“You are attempting to attack me with a pizza cutter.”

Her anger deflated as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her drained. Exhaustion weighed her down. She tossed the cutter onto the countertop with a frustrated huff, feeling like an idiot.
Again.
“Just how did you know that was going to happen,
Dominicus
?” She scrubbed her face with one hand before reaching in the cabinet for another cup.

“I was granted knowledge of it. I wanted to keep you safe.”

“
Granted knowledge
by whom?” Nice to know he was low on the totem pole. Didn’t the low-end guys end up being suicide bombers? She supposed that meant he was going to end up playing Roman candle eventually. Good thing she hadn’t had a chance to get attached.

“By the Most High.
Maggie, I don’t understand why you are this distressed.”

“The most high what?
Is he some kind of ringleader, like the Grand
Poobah
or something? Is he in control of the terrorists?”

“Terrorists?
Of course not.
He is the Most High over the Heavens and the Earth, the ruler of all creation.”

She stopped, frozen for a moment. The what? “Wait, do you mean God?”

“Of course.”

She nodded dumbly. He actually looked confused as to why she didn’t understand him. He was
batshit
crazy. There was no other explanation.

“So God told you a tanker truck was going to plow into my favorite Starbucks.”

“No. I had no idea about the tanker truck.”

Well that was a relief.

“He told me you would die there this morning.”

Okay, not so much.

“I spent all day yesterday hoping you would come back, now I’m regretting that you did. You are insane.”

“I swear I speak the truth.”

She poured more coffee and took a gulp of the too-cool brew. Maybe he’d make sense when the caffeine kicked in. “You are gorgeous, can make me come with a kiss and you are completely fucked in the head.”

She was suffocating, choking to death on the knot of nerves lodged in her throat. She slammed her cup onto the countertop and picked her way through the broken shards to her bedroom to change clothes. Her work clothes, with the tight skirt and buttoned-up blouse felt too restrictive.
Dammit
, why did every guy she liked have to end up being some kind of weirdo?

She slammed the door behind her, locking it, and stripped out of the pencil skirt and blouse. Wearing only her panties and bra, she dug in a drawer for something comfortable to wear. Sweats would be good.
The looser the better.

“Maggie, please listen to me.”

She gasped and spun around. How the hell did he get in? “Get out!” She rushed toward the bathroom, ready to slam the door in his face.

“You died, Maggie.”

His words stopped her. Her muscles seized and she stood, rooted to the spot. The memory of a nightmare she didn’t remember having washed over her.

She lay on the cold hard concrete outside of a club, blood pooling around her.

“You need help,
Dominicus
.” Hands shaking, she forced herself to move, to reach behind the door for the robe hanging on a hook there.

“I was supposed to take you to Hell but I couldn’t. You weren’t evil. I took one who was.”

A shadow like black smoke screaming as it ripped away from the body.

“Leave now.
Before I call the police.”
She shrugged into the heavy robe and tied the sash tight around her. The bulk of it shielded her, held her together when she was on the verge of shattering into a million little pieces,
provided
protection from the crazy man she’d hoped to lose her heart to. Tears pricked her eyes. Please, just go. Please leave before I lose it.

“I fixed you. I would never harm you. I took advantage of someone I love, stole his power so I could fix you.”

A hand pressed over the hole in her chest. Heat blazing through her, squeezing her heart and forcing it to pump, knitting the flesh and making it heal.

It couldn’t be real. Her hand slipped through the front of her robe to rub her chest, to soothe the ghost of remembered pain. Her fingers brushed irregular flesh and she paused, examining the edges of a small, puckered scar.
A scar that hadn’t been there before this weekend.

“Please stop. Please.” Her knees gave way and she leaned against the wall, sliding down to sit on the cold bathroom floor.

“I brought you home, bathed the blood from you. When you were cold, I kept you warm with my own body. I want only to protect you, to keep you safe.”

Soft, downy wings enfolding her, blocking the chill and cradling her to his hard, aroused body.

“Wings.”
She was shaking, her body breaking down in fear while a small corner of her mind watched. She could hear the
threadiness
of her voice, her harsh, shallow breaths, but she couldn’t seem to feel anything but a slow slide into panic. “You had wings. You had wings and you flew with me.”

“Yes.” The air behind him shimmered for a moment and wings as dark as night appeared. They lay against his back in a graceful arc from his head to the floor, the feathers gleaming in the harsh vanity lights.

Oh shit. Maybe she was the one going crazy.

“I’m seeing things. I have a concussion, or someone put something in my coffee this morning, or…something.”

“No, you see what is really there.” He went down on one knee beside her and pulled her against him. She tried to scramble away, but he held her tight. He carried her to the bedroom and sat on the mattress, holding her, trying to soothe her.

“Oh, God.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to think,” she sobbed.

“You don’t have to think, just believe.” He cradled her in his arms and his gentle lips pressed soft kisses over her cheeks.

Angel kisses.

A mirthless giggle escaped her at the thought. Gram had always called freckles angel kisses. When she was little, she believed it, believed she really was special, that angels existed and snuck into her room to kiss her goodnight.

Jesus, she was delirious.

Blazing heat, instant arousal, the sensuous slide of feathers over bare skin.

One had. An angel had come to her bed, kissed her, made her burn.

“You’re an angel.” She reached up to feel his wing, to slide her fingers over the warm, smooth feathers. They quivered at the light contact. Oh God, the wing was real, living flesh. He could feel her touching him.

“You kissed me that night, didn’t you?” The feathers under her fingertips trembled again, the movement so slight she barely felt it, yet it shook her to the core. Oh yes, he’d kissed her. He’d kissed her, and it was good.

“I had to. The man at the nightclub had put something in your drink. I had to pull the drugs from you.”

The biting taste of chemicals in her mouth, salty and bitter, the heat on her tongue, burning away.

“But you didn’t stop when they were gone, did you? You kept kissing me.” It was a hint of a memory, teasing her mind. A wave of want washed over her and her body melted, went liquid as it rippled through her. There was heat and need and his hard body against hers.

“I couldn’t stop.” His voice was strained, his eyes hot and guilty. “It was wrong, but I couldn’t stop.”

Lust and need stretched between them, making her body clench and ache. His breathing was harsh, and every rough rise and fall of his chest brushed his skin against hers. Tingles fluttered through her at the slight contact, sizzling over her nerve endings to settle in a pool of heat between her thighs.

“Kiss me again,
Dominicus
.”

For an endless moment he stared at her. His expression reflected the conflicting emotions battling inside of him. Finally he sighed in surrender and he leaned over her, covering her lips with his. His kiss claimed her, marked her soul. She slipped her hands under his shirt, exploring his body, the rippling of his muscles as he
moved,
the heat of his skin.

Shifting, she straddled his lap and the tingles erupted into showers of sparks. Her breath caught as a flush of arousal washed through her. Easing down, she pressed herself against him, allowed his thickening cock to press against the flesh weighed down by her need. She thrust her hips against
him,
ground her sensitized clit over him.

“More. Oh God, give me more.” Her voice was no more than a whisper, but he heard. She could feel the groan rumble through his rib cage as he moved. Twisting, he laid her down on the chenille bedspread, then stretched over her, covered her. The length of his hard cock settled against the wet crotch of her panties and his zipper cut into her with a pain that sent pleasure skyrocketing.

He began to move, thrusting against her, pressing the hard ridge into her, driving her higher. Shit, she was going to come. Just from this, dry humping on her bed like some teenage virgin getting her first taste of sex.

He knew it, too. His eyes blazed with arousal, with carnality and desire and determination. Face set, he watched her as the need climbed higher in her, taking over until she couldn’t think of anything but him, couldn’t feel anything but his body grinding into hers.

Pleasure spiraled, twisting tighter and tighter until it broke, crashing down on her like a wave, pulling her under and dragging her deeper. She clung to him, disoriented, holding on to him as her orgasm swept over her, tossed her into a maelstrom of sensation, and finally ebbed.

Warm lips pressed against her damp brow.

“Sleep, Maggie. It will all make more sense when you awaken.” The command, steeped in suggestion, soaked into her. Her limbs grew heavy and she sank into a sleep filled with dreams of angels and puppies, fighting for her soul.

Chapter Six

When Maggie woke, sunlight reached across her bedroom floor. Rubbing her gritty eyes she stretched. Why was she in bed this late in the day, and wearing nothing but her underwear? She sat, holding the sheet to her chest, and winced as something sharp poked her. She slipped her hand under her and pulled out a downy black feather with a very sharp quill.

Her brow wrinkled in confusion.
Where…

Black wings arching over her, drowning in pleasure.

She dropped the feather, scooting away from it as if it were a snake. Holy shit, it wasn’t a dream. But it couldn’t be real, could it? If it was real, he might still be in the apartment. She found her robe draped over the foot of her bed and pulled it on. Tightening the belt, she stepped out of the small bedroom, looking for him.

The apartment was empty. No one was there.

She rubbed her now aching head. Either she was having some seriously screwed up dreams or she was going completely crazy. Hunger hit her and she wandered into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and find something to eat.

A noise outside the door caught her attention.

“
Dominicus
.”
His name escaped on a breathy whisper. She was afraid to hope. Rushing over, she swung the door open. She blinked, staring at the empty doorway. He wasn’t there. A whimper drew her attention down.

“Well, hello.
You again.”
She crouched and held a hand out to the little black and tan pup. “Are you going to let me pet you this time?” The puppy licked her fingers and she braved an attempt at petting it.

“Aw, you’re a sweetie, aren’t you?”

The puppy peeked around her into her apartment before looking up at her, its little ears perked and its head cocked to one side. She laughed at the cute picture it made. It was almost as if it was asking to come in and play.

“No, you can’t come in, little one. I’m not allowed to have pets.” The pup whimpered again. Turning its head the other direction, it lifted one tan foot and pawed the air.
Too freaking adorable.
“If the landlord wasn’t such a pet Nazi I’d take you in a heartbeat. I did get you something, though. Wait right there.”

Leaving the door open, she hurried to the kitchen and pulled out the bag of puppy food and a plastic cereal bowl and took everything to the door before the dog could wander off.

“Here, pup, look what I got you. Are you hungry?” She quickly filled the bowl and set it in front of the dog. It looked at the food, then back at her. “It’s okay. Go ahead and
eat,
cutie. I might not be able to keep you, but I’ll do my best to make sure you find a home.” The pup gave her a big doggie grin before taking a tentative bite of the food. Wow, she hadn’t imagined the size of its mouth.

“What are you doing, Maggie?”

She jumped with a startled squeak and fell backward, landing hard on her butt. The puppy growled at
Dominicus
’ sudden appearance, its hackles
raised
.

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me!” She stood with an irritated huff and retreated back into the apartment, leaving
Dominicus
to follow.

“I am sorry. I didn’t intent to sneak.”

“Then give me some kind of warning.” She stomped to the kitchen and jerked her yellow cup from the cabinet to pour
herself
a cup of coffee. Frowning at it in confusion, she turned to face him. “I could have sworn I broke this mug.
Twice.”

“You did. I fixed it.” From his tone, he could have been talking about tightening a screw or hammering a nail. There was nothing in his tone or inflection to indicate he was capable of doing a small miracle, of mending broken glass. Or flesh.

He wasn’t human. What future did she have with an angel? He could never be the man she wanted, the partner she needed.

“You fixed it like you fixed me.” She met his startling blue eyes over the rim of her cup while she sipped, trying to act like everything was normal while her mind raced.

“Yes.”

A shiver rippled through her. What kind of magical powers did he have? What, exactly, was an angel capable of doing? The possibilities scared the shit out of her, but they also left her feeling a little too warm for the thick terrycloth robe she wore.