Wings of the Wicked
Page 118

“Did you have a good time?” he asked.
“Tonight was amazing,” I replied with a smile. “Thank you, Will. For everything. You are wonderful.”
“I just want you to be happy and safe.”
“With you, I am.”
He smiled. “Good.” He kissed me and I threw my arms around his neck.
“I think,” I said as I pulled back to look into his face, “that we should go back to your house soon.”
His smile widened. “Yeah?”
I nodded, but the happiness in his expression faded to a frown. He pulled back and his shoulders became rigid. I stared at him and his jaw tightened.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, running my fingers up and down his neck soothingly.
He let out an annoyed grunt and squeezed me a little tighter. “Cadan. I’m going to kick his ass. Again.”
I laughed. “Why?”
“He tried to kiss you.”
I rolled my eyes. I knew him well enough to know it was all just hot air. “So? I didn’t let him.”
“Doesn’t matter.” His expression and hold on me softened. He kissed my hair and said against it, “You’re still mine.”
Being sweet wasn’t going to make me forget his threat. “I’m so tired of this macho male ridiculousness. If you hit him, I hope he hits you back.”
“Me too. Then I’ll hit him even harder.”
I glared up at him and he grinned at me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Well, you’re mine,” he repeated, softer now, dipping his face to mine. “And kissing you is my job.”
“Is it now?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, and kissed me, luxuriously slow.
“So sweet” came a deep, growling voice from the trees.
Will and I sprang apart, startled, and shock waves of terror ripped through my body. Demonic power slithered through the grass toward our feet like a mob of snakes.
It was Merodach. His horned, winged form was cast blue in the moonlight, his dark skin gleaming and sporting the angelfire scar I gave him. Behind him was the spike-headed Rikken, his mouth dribbling thick saliva down his chin.
Will threw a protective arm over me and stepped forward. How had they found me? I didn’t want to fight. I wanted the demonic reapers to go away. This night had been too perfect, too incredible—too good to be true. This couldn’t be happening. I didn’t want to fight tonight. I just wanted to be with Will … for one night of peace and happiness…. That was all I wanted, and I couldn’t have anything I wanted. Hell had to ruin everything.
“The war is nigh, Preliator, and the storm is coming,” Merodach boomed, his power pressing on my skin like cold, heavy snow.
“Did you come all the way out here just to tell us the forecast?” Will snarled, charging right into battle mode, his sweetness and tenderness only a faint memory now. An instant was all it took for him to become prepared to kill.
Merodach snapped his eyes to Will. “I have come to finish what I started. Sammael and Lilith have no use for you, Guardian. They require the vessel of Gabriel only.”
“Your boss is dead,” I shouted at him. “Bastian is gone, so why are you still trying to capture me?”
“Bastian was naught but a foolish pawn,” Merodach said defiantly. “He was never in control. I am in control, and I want you to suffer. Rikken, make the Guardian bleed.”
It all happened so fast, I hadn’t even had time to react. Rikken vanished and reappeared directly in front of Will. Will threw a punch, and Rikken ducked and grabbed his left arm. His grasp was firm, and then he sank his teeth into Will’s forearm. Will shouted out in pain and protest before ripping his arm back. Rikken grinned, baring teeth as Will’s blood dribbled past his lips, mixing with the viscous drool that always seemed to be pouring from his mouth. Will stared in astonishment at the bite in his arm, at the torn tissue and blood seeping from the wound. It didn’t look like something he would bleed to death from, but he looked more pissed off and surprised than in pain. He growled a curse and shot forward. His punch slammed into Rikken’s face—through it—and the demonic reaper’s head exploded as if Will’s fist were dynamite. Rikken’s skull erupted into chunks of rock and his back hit the ground, his stone body shattering on impact. Rikken was gone in a heartbeat.
Will came to a stop and staggered, staring at the ground. I watched him, confused, as he wobbled like he’d just spun in circles and was dizzy. I moved toward him, staring at him. Before I could ask if he was okay, he lifted his head heavily, his lips parted, brow furrowed, and his eyes met mine. The green was dulling quickly, and my heart slammed in my chest. Then Will collapsed.
My mouth opened to scream and my lungs burned as if fire flashed through them, but I heard nothing. My arms flailed in front of him, grabbing hold of him as he hit the ground, and I fell with him. He lay there, his body shuddering and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. My hands touched his cheeks and neck and forehead as I stared frantically into his face. Merodach stood behind me, but I’d forgotten him.
Sound surged through my ears, and I was drowning in my own keening wail as tears rolled down my face and into the corners of my mouth. The brutal taste of salt on my lips shook me awake and back to reality. The blood from Rikken’s bite seeping out of Will’s arm ran down the front of my dress, staining the plum chiffon black-red.
“Will,” I sobbed, my hands shaking. “Will!”