Chapter Seven

Coffee. Fuck, Razr needed coffee.

That was always his first thought when he woke up. Even as

an angel waking up in Heaven, he’d wanted that uniquely human beverage that so

many of his angelic brethren turned their noses up at. Hot, cold, black, with

milk...it didn’t matter to Razr. Just hand it over or get out of the way.

He yawned, opened his eyes and blinked, startled at the

sight of Jedda sitting in a chair next to the bed he was currently sprawling

in. He’d dreamed about her, except she hadn’t been wearing a bright turquoise

silk blouse and shimmering black leggings that showed off toned thighs and

calves like she was now.

In his dream, she’d been naked. Her luxurious silver-blue

hair had blanketed her perky breasts, but everything else had been gloriously

free of any kind of covering. She’d been walking on a beach of white sand and

pink shells, and as she sauntered up to him, she’d held out his Enoch Ice

Diamond.

Razr had extended his hand... But he still didn’t know if

he’d been wanting the gem––or her. The dream had flickered away as

consciousness interrupted.

“Hey, you.” Jedda reached for a pitcher of water on the

bedside table. “You weren’t out as long as I thought

you’d be. You heal fast.”

Confused, he rolled onto his side and pushed up on an elbow,

feeling the pinch of something on his back. Bandages. She’d bandaged him?

“Where am I?” His voice sounded as wrecked as he felt.

“I brought you to my place.” She poured water into a glass

and handed it to him. “I couldn’t just leave you there bleeding on Shrike’s

floor. Who knows what he’d have done to you?”

His stomach rumbled—he’d missed the

sacrificial dinner, after all—and he took a drink of water to quell it. It

wasn’t coffee, but he wasn’t going to complain to someone who had helped him

out.

“Where are my weapons and clothes?” When she pointed at a

pile on the floor, he relaxed and set the glass down. “How did you get me here?

And where is here?”

She offered a small smile. “I’m stronger than I look, and here

is London.”

Oh, right. He’d gotten that info when he’d gone to Scotland.

“Near your shop?”

She shrugged. “It’s walking distance in good weather. One

stop on the Tube in bad weather. But this is England, so I ride the

Tube a lot. Turn over.” She made a circular gesture with one bejeweled finger.

Besides her gem-encrusted fingernails, she wore a lot of rings. As many as

three on each finger. “I’ll remove the bandages.”

He could do it himself, and he didn’t generally like taking

orders, but he suddenly wanted very much to have her tending to him. Touching

him. The dream was still fresh in his mind, so what the hell.

Besides, while it was technically forbidden for angels to

fraternize with demons, he was, for all intents and purposes, considered a

fallen angel. Which meant all bets were off, and Heaven could suck it.

She could suck it.

Groaning at the inappropriately erotic thought, he flipped

onto his stomach, and oh, look at that, he was naked. She’d stripped him bare and he hadn’t awakened? That had happened only once

before, when Zhubaal had carried him from Azagoth’s office after a particularly brutal flogging and

laid him out on his bed in Sheoul-gra. He’d awakened

confused and sore, but at least he’d been in his own bed.

“So.” The mattress dipped as she sat next to him, her warm

thigh pressing against his hip through the purple satin sheet. She liked her

jewel tones, didn’t she? Everything in the room, from the bright citrine

lampshade to the jade rug and ruby wall accents screamed, I hate subtle

color and earth tones. “What’s the deal with this punishment thing?”

His cheeks heated with humiliation. “I did something stupid,

and I got in trouble for it.”

“Yeah, I guessed that much. Must

have been pretty bad to get you kicked out of Heaven

and to be cursed with eternal punishment.”

“I also spent a few decades in prison,” he muttered into the

pillow.

His two team members, Ebel and Darlah, had rotted in jail

with him while all their fates were decided. Ebel had been released first, with

no restrictions on his power and without an Azdai

glyph. It had taken him only two years to track down his gemstone and

destroy one of the thieves who’d stolen it from him, but the amethyst had been

tainted by the evil of the one who had possessed it, an evil that darkened his

soul and turned him against his own kind.

He’d been hunted down and slaughtered. His gem and his

pendant now sat uselessly in some Archangel’s office until the other two Gems

of Enoch could be recovered and a new team could be

formed.

Next, they’d released Darlah to find her gem, but this time,

she’d been hobbled like Razr, her wings—and consequently, her power—bound, and

she’d been branded with an Azdai glyph.

She’d disappeared three years later and was presumed dead.

Now it was Razr’s turn. Returning to Heaven with his gem

would redeem him. Returning with both his diamond and Darlah’s garnet would

make him a hero. Heaven would once again have the three Enoch stones, and he

could put together another team to combat demons.

He needed those stones, and one was within his

grasp. He just had to exercise a little patience and be smart.

Jedda’s finger smoothed over the bandages, and he nearly

purred. No one had touched him like that since Darlah. And even then, their

relationship had been sexual, frantic, and intense, with zero intimate moments.

At least, not by his definition of intimate.

“Can I ask what you did?”

He inhaled sharply, wondering how to play this. He could

lie, tell the truth, employ avoidance... He had a few options. In the end, he

settled on a generic version of the truth, figuring that offering a little

information might help him draw info out of her, as well.

“I was part of an elite demon-slaying team. We got careless

one day, and our carelessness cost lives and property.”

Anger and regret burned through his veins at the memory.

They’d been battling hordes of demons advancing on a shithole village in what

was now Somalia, and Razr had ordered Ebel to station the stones and their

human guardians on the edge of town near Razr and his team. But Ebel had

misunderstood, placing the trio of humans and gems in the center of town,

leaving them out of the team’s sight and vulnerable to demons who somehow

slipped through the barrier generated by Razr’s Ice Diamond. It had been a clusterfuck

of epic proportions, and one Razr would never forget. Not even his dreams gave

him respite from the sight of the death and destruction.

“I’m sorry,” Jedda said softly. “I know exactly what that’s

like. I lost my entire family because I was careless too.”

“They’re dead?”

She peeled a bandage away with surprising tenderness. He’d

have ripped the sucker off. “My parents and one sister are. My other sister and

I might as well be strangers.”

Okay, so now he had to know. “What kind of demon

are you?”

She shifted, planting one warm palm on his waist, and his

body stirred to sudden, hot life. Beneath his hips, his shaft swelled, and the

satiny sheet rubbing it like a caress made it even worse.

“I’m not a demon.”

He laughed. “Bullshit.”

“I’m not.” She pulled off another strip of bandage, and he

welcomed the slight burn of the adhesive tugging on his skin. He needed the

distraction. Badly. “I’m a gem elf.”

“A what?” Talk about a distraction.

“A gem elf,” she said slowly, as if he was hard of hearing.

Or a toddler.

“I heard you. I just don’t know what a gem elf is.”

“Aren’t angels supposed to know everything?”

How cute. Angels seemed to be kept in the dark about

everything.

“Obviously not,” he said, adjusting his hips to accommodate

his pinched erection. “But I do know you’re a demon.”

She removed another bandage, this time less gently. A lot

less gently. “I think I’d know if I was a demon.”

“How would you know?” he shot back. “Does a giraffe know

it’s a giraffe? Have you been classified by science or Baradoc,

the demonologist?”

She huffed in indignation, and he hid his smile in the pillow. “My people aren’t part of the demon or human

worlds. We don’t have any kind of corresponding religions or lore. We even have

our own realm.”

He snorted. “Angels don’t know everything, but we are

familiar with all the realms. If there was an elven realm, I’d know.”

“That’s pretty arrogant.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an angel. A fallen angel,”

he corrected.

“Angel or not, you’re an asshole,” she muttered, and he

laughed. She was adorable. And clearly, a demon. So

was she lying to him or did she truly believe she was an elf?

A fucking elf. Ridiculous.

Her fingers fluttered over his bare shoulder blades, and he

went taut at the first probe of the scar-like streaks from which his wings

would emerge if they weren’t bound.

“What are these?”

“Those are wing anchors.”

“That’s where they cut your wings off?” There was a

startling note of sadness in her voice that left him off balance. She didn’t

know him. Not really. And yet, she felt bad for him? “I’d have thought they’d

have healed by now. When did you fall?”

“A couple of years ago,” he hedged, not wanting to get into

this, especially because his wings hadn’t been severed. Just bound so tightly

with special golden twine that they ached every minute of every day.

“But the stitches––”

He sat up quickly to change the subject, but the sudden move

knocked her off balance and sent her sprawling on the floor. Right on top of

the insanely bright rug.

“Oh, shit.” He leaped off the bed to help her up. “Sorry.

I...” He trailed off as he lifted her to her feet, the look on her face as she

stared at him leaving him even more off balance than before.

Those amazing eyes glittered as she took in his nudity. His

cock, already rock hard, jerked under her gaze. Desire hammered through him,

becoming a rapid pounding in his groin that grew more intense the longer they

stood there, both frozen by what was happening.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.