Soul Thief-Demon Trappers 2 (37 page)

He studied her with those deep eyes. “I wish you didn’t know what I am. It has changed things between us.”

“No. It’s not that.”

But it was. He’d probably met God in person, polished His throne or something. It was like one of those books she’d read when she was a kid: The girl would meet an immortal guy, fall in love, and then everything would go wrong until they saved each other from a hideous fate. The books always had a happy ending, but she knew that was bogus. There was never a happy-ever-after in real life.

With a sigh, Riley closed the heavy bronze doors, troubled by her conflicted emotions. Behind her there was a
whoosh
ing sound. She turned and couldn’t stop the gasp.

Ori’s leather jacket and T-shirt were gone, revealing his muscled chest. A pair of white wings hung in the air behind him. They weren’t fully extended—the mausoleum was not large enough for that—but still they were incredible. There was no evidence of the damage he’d sustained in the battle.

Entranced, Riley walked toward him. Each iridescent feather glowed as the candlelight touched it. She carefully ran a finger down the length of one. It felt like fine silk.

Pulling her to the floor, Ori laid her head on his shoulder, curving a protective wing around her. Outside, the wind gusted around the building and leaves pattered against the metal doors. All she heard was her heart beating in time with his.

“I could stay here forever,” he said.

“But you won’t,” she replied.

Ori tilted her chin upward, looking deep into her eyes. “Maybe I will.”

She wanted him to kiss her, keep kissing her until nothing else mattered. When his lips delicately touched hers, they felt like the brush of a dove’s wing. The second kiss was more insistent. A fire ignited in her belly. She felt his fingers brush her neck, gently grazing an ear as he leaned closer and kissed her cheek.

As good as it felt, she was roasting. “Your wings are really warm,” she said. He helped her out of her coat. She felt naked in front of him, exposed in ways she didn’t understand. The fire in her belly burned hotter.

Taking her hand, Ori placed it on his naked chest. Riley could feel his heart beating underneath her fingertips. “You stir my blood,” he whispered. “It’s been a long time since that has happened.”

When they next kissed, she found herself leaning into him, wanting him to touch her. Then she pulled back and shook her head.

“This is … crazy. This kind of thing only happens in books.”

“You’re sure of that?” he asked, wrapping her in those magnificent wings again.

“Angels can’t, like…”

“Of course we can,” he whispered into her ear.

At his urging, she skimmed her fingers through his dark satin hair, pulling it out of the ponytail. The pool of heat in her belly spread downward. Without thinking, she kissed his ear. He murmured in appreciation, drawing her closer. Another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue playfully touching hers.

Riley felt his fingers locate the top button on her shirt. He looked deep into her eyes, seeking permission. When she didn’t protest, it came open. He worked his way down the shirt, button by button. As the last one gave way, he gently pushed it back, then brushed his fingertips across the lace covering her right breast. Riley hummed in response. The sensations were almost too much for her to bear.

This wasn’t Simon or one of the other boys at school. This was for real.

Too fast.
With a groan, Riley pulled out of his arms. She needed time to think this through, to let her head clear.

“I’m not sure I’m … ready for this,” she said. It was a huge step, even with a mortal. She couldn’t be the only woman he’d been with all these ages. What would keep him from getting tired of her?

“It doesn’t matter. I’m with you now,” he soothed. “I have a duty to protect you, Riley, and the best way to do that is in my arms.”

His tenderness calmed her fears, and she settled back into his embrace. It would be so easy to let him make love to her.
Like in my dream.

Ori gently pushed a strand of hair off her face. “It’s your choice.”

He’d read her mind again. He was right: This was her choice. “I’ve never…”

“I know.”

He knows I’m a virgin?
What
doesn’t
he know?

“How to win your trust,” he replied. He gently kissed her forehead. “So much sadness for one so young.”

Riley curved into the hollow of his wing, feeling his breath across her skin like a whispering breeze. Outside, the wind skittered dry leaves across the gravestones.

“Tell me what you want,” Ori urged.

Riley teetered on the edge. She was seventeen, not some kid. She could be with him, but what would happen after that?

“You will set our future, Riley. I surrender myself to you, body and soul.”

His next kiss was surprisingly tender. It felt like a lover’s kiss.

“Tell me what you want,” he repeated.

Her final doubts melted away. “You,” she whispered. “I want you.”

“Then I am yours, Riley Anora Blackthorne, and you shall be mine.”

Ori curved his wings around her, lifting her face, her body to melt against his. Raw desire surged between them. It surrounded her. Overwhelmed her.

Love me. Forever.

Nothing else mattered.

*   *   *

Riley awoke sometime
later, covered by a wing that was toastier than any blanket. When she rolled toward Ori, he stirred, those dark eyes searching her face.

“You look content,” he said.

“I am.”

Did she feel different? Not really. Other than an intense heat that surged through her veins, she hadn’t changed. Other girls had told her what it was like their first time, but hers hadn’t been like that. There’d been no fumbling, no uncertainty. Ori was a born lover, and now he was hers.

“I want this forever,” she said, tracing one finger across his full lips. Then she sighed. “But that’s a very long time, and I haven’t even finished school yet.”

Ori chuckled. “You worry too much, Riley Anora, my
valiant light.
”

She snuggled next to his body, mindful they were both nude. Underneath them was some sort of padding, almost like a sleeping bag only far richer in texture and comfort.
More angel mojo.

Ori bent over her, running a line of tiny kisses down her forehead to her nose. “Morning comes soon. Let’s not waste the night with talk.”

“What happens in the morning, with us I mean?”

His answer was a breath-stealing kiss.

T
HIRTY-THREE

When Riley awoke again she was lying on the floor of the mausoleum fully clothed. The comfy padding was gone; so were the candles and the angel. For a few seconds she wondered if it had just been a dream.

No dream could have been that good.

Then she saw the rose. It was blood red, lying next to her. She sampled its fragrance and, like Ori, it was heavenly. After some time, Riley finally moved into a sitting position. So where was the angel? Doubts seemed to crowd her when he wasn’t near. She wanted him here, holding her, telling her she’d made the right decision.

How long can this last?
What would Heaven say if they found out?

She pulled on her jacket and then combed out her hair. A quick check of her pocket mirror generated a sigh of relief. Her makeup wasn’t trashed. While she reapplied her lip gloss, Riley tried to recall every moment with the angel, but it seemed too magical to capture in mere memories. It hadn’t been like she’d thought: It hadn’t hurt that first time, and when she’d voiced her worries about becoming pregnant, he’d assured that wasn’t possible, not with him. Still, something kept nibbling on her like a tenacious bug; she couldn’t quite sort it out. Riley gave up and pushed open the mausoleum doors.

She found her lover a short distance from the mausoleum. His wings were tightly cramped against his back, a barometer to his mood. Something was wrong.

“Ori?” she called.

He turned toward her with an expression so sad it almost brought tears. He beckoned her over, but when she asked what was wrong, he shushed her.

“Enjoy the moment,” he said, intertwining their fingers.

They faced east. The sun had just poked over the horizon, and it made the feathers on his wings glow as if they were absorbing the light.

“I always love the sunrise,” he said. “It reminds me of Heaven.” Then a tremor ran the length of his body.

“Ori, what’s going on?”

He turned toward her again, taking both her hands in his. His expression was even sadder now. “You have a decision to make, dear Riley. It will be the hardest of your life, and I am so sorry you must make it.”

He was spooking her. “What are you talking about?”

The angel hesitated. “I need you to pledge yourself to me. If you do, then I can keep you safe for as long as you live.”

For a second she swore she felt the earth shake, but it was just her body.

“I have made my commitment by being with you,” he explained. “I have placed my future in your hands, Riley. Do not think that was a light decision. In the past, any angel who lay with a mortal woman was punished.”

“Punished? But isn’t God all about love?” she asked. “I mean, wouldn’t He want us to be together?”

“There are rules.” Ori let go of her hands. “Your soul is …
in play
, as we call it. It happened the moment you made the arrangement with Heaven. That agreement attracted notice in the lower realms.”

“That makes no sense,” she said, stepping away from him. “The demons have always known my name. You’re saying that just because I agreed to help Heaven, now I’ve got all of Hell after me?”

“Not all, only those who are truly ambitious.”

Riley drifted up the path toward the mausoleum, troubled. She hadn’t expected this, not after the night they’d spent together. She turned to face her lover. “What is this decision I need to make?”

Ori sighed deeply, his expression still troubled. “The fundamental measure of a mortal is his or her soul. Yours is very powerful, Riley. That is why you must pledge it to me. That is how Hell will know we have a bond, one that is lasting and true. Only then will you be safe.”

He wants my soul?

“Yes,” he said, reading her mind. “Nothing less will do.” He was a few feet from her now. The wings were gone and he looked like any mortal. Harmless, if you didn’t know what lie beneath.

Riley hesitated, so many questions pounding at her at once.
Why would an angel want my soul? Martha didn’t.

“That was different,” Ori responded.

“It doesn’t make sense. You’re saying Hell’s after me, but the Five tried to kill me
before
I did the deal with Heaven.”

“The rogue wasn’t after your soul, Riley. It just wanted you and your father dead.”

“Why?”

Ori stepped closer, offering his hand. “Please trust me. I only do this to keep you alive.”

He sounded so sincere, but she took a step back anyway. “I have trusted you. I slept with you, remember?” She’d given him something truly precious—her virginity. You could only do that once. Did Ori think so little of her that it meant nothing?

Something stirred inside her. Riley wasn’t sure what it was, but it seared like a live coal in the pit of her stomach. She’d felt this before, in the parking lot with Allan right after he’d punched her.

“What does this soul pledging mean to me?” she asked.

“It means that we are bound together.”

“That was a vague answer,” she muttered. “You seem to be really good at those. Does that talent come with the wings?”

Ori frowned. “This is best for both of us. I’m the only one who hasn’t hurt you.”

“Give it time,” she said, surprised at her bitterness. What was feeding that? Maybe the fact that almost every guy had lied to her.

Ori began to pace in front of the mausoleum, his moves disjointed, a mirror to his turbulent emotions. “I killed that demon for you, Riley. I have saved your life more times than you know. What else can I do to earn your trust?”

The coal in her stomach was a blast furnace now. She felt the tears slip down her face, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. “Tell me the truth. How many mortals have you been with? Am I the first? The tenth, the thousandth?”

“This is for your own protection,” he retorted. “You have no notion of how much danger you are in, from both Heaven and Hell.”

“So God’s going to smite me, too?” she replied. “If that happens, how am I supposed to stop the end of the world? You guys really need to get your stories straight.”

“If you deny me, others will come for you, others more evil than you can imagine. Please, Riley, I am your only hope,” he insisted.

“They can’t get my soul unless I give it to them,” she said, crossing her arms over chest.

“Oh, Riley,” he murmured, “there are countless ways to lose your soul, most of them genuinely noble.”

“You’re lying. Why did I ever believe you?”

His wings reappeared, snapped tight against his back, vibrating with anger. “Clear your head, girl!” he shouted, his fist clenched now. “I am your last chance! Do not deny me!”

“Oh, dear, now you’ve upset him,” a smooth voice said. “That is never a good thing.”

Riley jerked in surprise to find a figure leaning against one of the gravestones clad in a black shirt and slacks, his collar-length ebony hair shot with silver. His eyes were bottomless midnight blue.

Ori started, then gave a deep bow. “My Lord, I did not expect you.”

My Lord?

The newcomer laughed at the angel. “Of course you didn’t. No one ever does.” Those eyes fell on Riley again. They had a depth to them beyond anything she’d experienced.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“I’m his boss,” he said, angling his head toward Ori.

He sure didn’t look like her idea of God.

The figure straightened. “You work it out, Blackthorne’s daughter. You’re a very smart girl.”

Blackthorne’s daughter.
Demons called her by that name. Maybe Heaven did, too. They were on holy ground, so no way this could be Hellspawn. Ori had called him “my Lord,” which meant he was an angel, at least.