Wicked Edge (11 page)

“How long
is
that chain?”

Edge laughed softly. How could he find anything funny so soon after his dark thoughts of a few minutes ago? He didn’t know. All he did know was that Passion made him feel better. “The chain is long enough.”

He lay watching her rigid back for ages before she finally relaxed on a huff of frustration. She flopped onto her back. “I can’t sleep. You make me nervous.”

He listened before answering. The cat was snoring. He’d have to point out that blemish to Ganymede. He loved punching holes in the cat’s puffed–up sense of self. Hope’s breathing was slow and steady. She was asleep.

“Anything I can do to make you less nervous?”

She opened her sexy mouth to answer.

“I’m not leaving.”

She closed her mouth.

He watched her eyes travel over his bared chest down to where the sheet draped across his hips. “And yes, I’m naked. Sorry. That’s
the way I sleep.” Not always. But he’d stripped bare before climbing into bed to accomplish exactly what he saw now. Even in the dim glow from the nightlight, he couldn’t miss her blush. Yeah, that was mean of him. He shouldn’t be taking out his anger on one of the two people who’d helped him. But maybe it was better that she learn he was a bastard now than later.

“Great. I have a naked stranger in my bed.” Her eyes gleamed at him in the darkness. “With a very long chain.”

“I get the stranger part.” He got the naked part too. “You might be less nervous if you knew a little more about me.”
Probably not, though.
And where had his offer come from? He never talked about himself if he could help it.

Her gaze burned a hole in his chest, but his offer seemed to divert her attention. Too bad. He liked the way she looked at his body—with admiration and awakening hunger.

“Why do you kill?”

Wow, she went right for the jugular. “It’s what I do. The Big Boss tells me who needs to die, and I take care of it.”

“Can’t you say no?”

Self-loathing choked him. He hated being reminded of his position, tried not to think about it. But he’d promised to answer her questions. “I don’t have free will when it comes to my job, just the manner in which I get it done.”
Don’t ask anything else.

“What happens if you say no?” She seemed to be over her nerves. Her eyes shone with curiosity and something more that made him uneasy.

How to explain this to her. “I’ve never said no.”

She frowned.

“It’s a compulsion, a knowing that what I’m doing is what I was meant to do. I’ve always understood that I was created for this job.” He tried to explain something to her that he’d never spoken about to anyone else. “If I stopped doing the job, I’d cease to exist.”

“That’s awful.” She looked horrified.

He supposed it was, but he’d sort of gotten used to existing, so he didn’t fight it.

Sympathy gleamed in her eyes.

“I don’t want your pity.” His voice was harsher than he’d meant it to be, but he hated the idea of her feeling sorry for him. “I don’t mind my job, and over the millennia I’ve learned to make killing into an art form.” There. That should wipe away her sympathy.

“I understand your anger.” And she reached out to place her palm flat against his chest.

Edge wanted to deny he was angry and push her hand from his body. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Her touch heated parts of him that had been cold for a very long time. His body absorbed the sensation, and roiling emotions awoke where no emotions were a second ago.

Lust. He understood it, almost welcomed the uncomplicated familiarity of it. But this wasn’t an ordinary sexual hunger. He wanted her bone deep. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and taste her in every way possible—the flavor of warm woman and heated arousal as he slid his tongue over her bared body, the scent of earth magic rather than heaven, the feel of her smooth skin beneath him, touching his chest, stomach, cock. But beyond that, he wanted to sink into her, merge everything he wasn’t with everything she was.

The second emotion was a lot more complex. It was a coming home to a man who knew no home, the healing of a wound none could possibly reach because he’d hidden it so well. And it terrified him. Anyone who could cause this feeling was dangerous. He rolled onto his back, and her hand fell away.

“The Big Boss doesn’t beat us into submission.” As a joke it fell flat. “He just reminds me once in a while that Death is who I am. It’s my reason for existing. Can’t argue with the facts.”

“But millions of people die every day. You can’t be responsible for each one.”

“Wouldn’t give me much time for other things, would it?” Like covering her body with his and driving into her again, and—
Stop it.
Seemed like his mind wasn’t the only thing he couldn’t control tonight. “I specialize. I rid the earth of the ones who’re too evil to exist but are fated to live long, healthy lives.”

She frowned. “What about redemption? The person you kill might regret his evil actions sometime in his future, but you take that chance away from him.”

Edge thought about the guy about to dump poison into the reservoir. “Yeah, well tell that to the thousands of people who end up dead while he’s deciding he’s sorry.”

She didn’t seem to have an answer for that. Surprising. He’d thought she’d spout the official line of leaving things up to some supreme being.

Time to change the subject. The conversation was getting too deep, too uncomfortable. “So what’s your story? Ganymede doesn’t think you’re an angel.”

She sighed. “Ganymede is wrong.”

“How long have you been an angel?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. Looks like we have something in common. Time doesn’t have much meaning in heaven. And no big events have happened to mark my existence. I just…am.”

Sounded boring to Edge. “What does the Supreme Being look like?” Better find out now, because he’d never meet Him in person.

Again that hesitation. “I don’t know.”

He turned his head to stare at her. She looked away.

“Have
any
of the angels seen Him?” Or Her, or It. A different gender or form for the Supreme Being wouldn’t bother him.

“No.” It was almost a whisper. “Archangel Ted passes on His messages.”

Something was weird here. They’d never even
seen
Him? Then he thought about the Big Boss. Maybe not so weird. “You said you got to choose your own name. Why’d you choose Passion?”

She smiled. “Sometimes I’m not as accepting of my job as you are. I have a streak of defiance that’s gotten me in trouble a few times. Anyway, sensuality is frowned on at home. So when I chose a name, I picked one that was ambiguous enough that they couldn’t deny my request. After all, passion can mean a strong drive for something, like a passion for doing good. But whenever anyone says my name, they think of the sexual meaning. Archangel Ted hates it.”

While he tried to come to terms with her vision of heaven, she asked another question. “Have you ever seen the Big Boss?”

“No. He keeps a low profile too. I’ve met his emissary, though. Funny guy that rides around in an ice-cream truck.” Edge thought about the Big Boss. “Whoever the Big Boss is, he’s not the devil.”

From her little start beside him, he figured that’s exactly what she’d been thinking. “Sure, all the cosmic troublemakers live up to their names, but the Boss holds us in check. When I was first created, I’d wipe out a village with hundreds of people just to eliminate the one evil guy I was after. The Big Boss put a stop to that.”

“So now you only kill one at a time.” Her voice was flat.

“Yeah.” He wasn’t making a great impression. But that’s what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?”

“We need to get some sleep.” She turned her back to him.

What was she thinking? Did she condemn him? Probably. Did she blame the Big Boss? Most likely. Did it matter? He closed his eyes as he turned on his side facing away from her.
Yes.

Passion woke slowly, dragging herself unwillingly from the grip of a surprisingly carnal dream. Archangel Ted couldn’t blame her for
what she did in her sleep, so she’d allowed herself to enjoy every second of it. She’d never experienced anything even close to erotic at home, but amazingly, she’d known exactly what to do with the tawny-haired god—oops, sorry, Ted—with the tawny-haired, beautiful male animal in her dream.

Reluctantly, she released the dream. As awareness crept over her, she realized something was wrong.

Passion enjoyed room when she slept. She usually woke spread-eagled across her bed. This time was no different. Only one problem. This time her arm and leg seemed to be draped over something. What?

She opened her eyes. Uh–oh. Her arm lay across Edge’s chest, her palm resting over one male nipple. Passion could feel it pressing into her palm. She’d flung her leg over his…Oh, crap. She hastily moved her leg back to her side of the bed, but not before she experienced her first feel ever of male sexual organs. Well, at least her toes had. They’d been resting against his long, hard…She could feel heat rising up her neck and crawling over her face. She’d aroused him with her toes. Could it get any worse?
Could it get any better?

No, no, that hadn’t been her thought. She was pure of mind and body.
Who’re you kidding? Pure of mind? Give me a break.

Okay, so she had her fantasies. She might not have interacted on the mortal plane, but she knew human thoughts. Men might not think about sex every seven seconds, but they thought about it a lot.

One good thing, the sheet had hidden her leg.

He turned his head to stare at her. “Bed hog.” But his eyes were hot and hungry.

Embarrassed, she looked past him to where Hope sat up in bed with a laptop open in front of her. She’d turned on her lamp. Ganymede still slept. Passion strained to see what was on the screen. Facebook? “Where’d you get that?” Archangel Ted didn’t approve of the social networks.

“Hmm?” Hope glanced at her but looked right back at the screen. “Sparkle brought it this morning when she delivered the clothes.”

“What clothes?” Then she saw them draped over the backs of the two chairs. “Never mind.” Passion didn’t like the idea of someone coming into the room and leaving without her knowing it. But at least her face had cooled off enough for her to chance a look at Edge again. “I’ll release you.”

“Don’t have to.” He held up his cuff-free wrist.

Passion glanced at Hope. “Oh, thanks, Hope.”

“It wasn’t me. He was free when I woke up.” She never took her eyes from the screen. “I registered as Angel Hope. I said that I could help people find happiness. Do you think I’ll get any friends?”

Edge laughed. “Oh, you’ll get friends.”

“How did you free yourself?” Passion tried to free
herself
from the siren call of all that bare male flesh just a few inches away from her fingers. Heaven wasn’t big on the senses. She needed to load up on her experiences before she went home. Right now she was hoping for tactile overload.

“If you want to keep a nonhuman as your bed prisoner, sweetheart, you really need to know what his powers are.” Edge’s smile mocked her. “You didn’t hide the key. So when I wanted to get out of bed to stretch my legs, I just called the key to me and it came.”

Wait. Her toes had been resting on bare…“Did you put on any clothes before you got out of bed?”

He looked puzzled. “Why should I? You and Hope were asleep.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Hope sounded distracted. “Wow, I have a friend request already. Do you think I should ask him if he’s evil? Because if he is, I can help him.”

“No, don’t ask him anything.” Passion stared at Hope until the other angel looked at her.

“What?”

“He got out of bed naked and walked across the room naked. Didn’t you think that was newsworthy?”

Hope shrugged. “I didn’t look at him with lust, so what’s the big deal?”

Didn’t look at him with
lust
? How could she not? All that bare beautiful skin, all those rippling muscles, all that sexual temptation walking across the room. How could she freaking
not
?

Passion turned her gaze back to Edge. He returned her stare. Now that she’d calmed down enough to examine her response, she realized something.

She was in deep trouble. Hope’s reaction had been the perfect angel’s response. Passion’s response was all volatile
human
reaction. This was not good.

She tore her gaze from his. “What will you and Ganymede do today?”

“Ganymede will stay with Sparkle. Neither of us should be alone until we track down whoever is doing this.” Edge picked up his watch from beside the mattress. “Almost noon. Who’d know in this tomb.” He started to climb out of bed. “I need to get dressed.”

She thought about ripping the sheet from the mattress and offering it to him, but then changed her mind. Something sly and wicked suggested that she needed that sheet because it was chilly here in the dungeon.

She swallowed hard as he scooped up the clothes he’d flung on the floor last night and stood with his back to her. Oh. My. God. From broad shoulders down to tight butt and hard thighs, he was a living, breathing fantasy. Passion might never leave her cubicle again if she could just tape pictures of him like this all over it.
Turn around, turn around
.

She knew her face was flushed and her eyes wide. Hope had the same view facing her…And she didn’t even look! The other angel
was too busy staring at her laptop. Passion couldn’t conceive of anyone being that…
good
. Okay, try dead. Someone just needed to bury her. Passion looked enough for both of them.

He slid jeans over his lean hips and didn’t bother with anything else. Passion was in the middle of licking suddenly dry lips when he turned around.

Edge paused in fastening his jeans to study her. Then he smiled, a slow sensual lifting of his sexy lips. “No naked angels in heaven?”

“No naked cosmic troublemakers in
this
room.” Lord, how would she survive another night knowing what slept beside her? Okay, she’d think positively. Maybe their search today would turn up the culprit.

His expression said he knew exactly what she thought of naked cosmic troublemakers. “I’ll be next door in Dacian’s shower. If you hear shouts of ‘Kill Ganymede,’ come running.” He strode from the dungeon.