Angels of Darkness

or after you had your adventures at the Manadavvi compound.”
    â€œOh, no, I wasn’t,” I spat out at him. “I find you all worthless and weak, despite the fact you think you’re gifts straight from Jovah’s hands. Until I met you, I never wanted to speak to one of you, let alone take one as a lover—”
    â€œAnd now that you’ve met me?” he whispered. “You want me as a lover?”
    â€œThat’s not what I meant to say—”
    But it didn’t matter what I meant to say. He jerked me even closer, wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, and covered my mouth with a hard kiss. My skin went up in a blaze of heat; my bones melted against his body. I felt his wings settle around me, caging me, trapping me, exciting me with their delicate, whispering touch. I wrenched my head back to gulp for air, and then lunged forward again, locking my lips to his. Somehow I had gotten my right hand free, or he had released me, because now I had both of my arms around his waist, under his shirt, and I began sliding my palms up and down his hot skin. My fingers reached the ridged, muscular juncture where his wings met his shoulder blades, and I rubbed my thumbs across the roughened skin. He moaned with pleasure and shuddered in my grip.
    â€œIf you’ve never slept with an angel,” he murmured, “how did you know to do that ?”
    â€œInstinct,” I laughed against his mouth. “Anything that seems too private to touch—should be touched. In circumstances like this.”
    He kissed me again. “I thought you didn’t come here so you could take me as a lover.”
    â€œI came here to drag you out of your bitterness and isolation. If seducing you is the only way to do it, well, I’m prepared to make the sacrifice.”
    Now he laughed, but the sound was shaky. “I can’t—I’m not—I’m not thinking clearly right now and any decisions I make—any choices—might not be rational—”
    I deliberately leaned in to rub myself against him. It was immediately clear other parts of his body were also responding to my touch. My fingers tiptoed up his spine again to caress the hard mass of tissue guarding the muscles of his wings. Again he gasped, then he drew me so close that I was lifted off my feet.
    â€œLet’s not be rational,” I suggested. “Let’s do things that will embarrass both of us in the morning.”
    He did not bother answering that. He merely carried me across the cluttered room to a door that led to an equally messy bedroom, kissing me the entire way.
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    I f you’ve never made love to an angel, I highly recommend the experience.
    There was no light, or only what little seeped in from my lonely lamp, yet that seedy, cramped room seemed lit with fey radiance. I writhed beneath him, my arms twined around his neck, his wings reared up over both our heads like a divine canopy. I felt sheltered, protected, free to open myself to him completely because no danger could make it past the haven of his wings. My hands explored his ribs and hips while his body worked above mine, driving me to frenzy and then to satisfaction. When he cried out and collapsed upon me, gasping for breath, I kissed his cheek and murmured into his hair.
    â€œOh, I think you’ve definitely found your purpose in life. No need for all this trauma and despair.”
    He laughed into my ear. “I don’t think you can be sure yet,” he whispered. “We’ll need to experiment a few more times.”
    And we did.

CHAPTER 7
    W hen I woke up the next morning, my first thought was that I was glad the angel was blind. Sweet Jovah singing himself into laughing hysteria, I must look like a mad street beggar, my hair in tangles, my lips puffy from too many kisses, my face pale from lack of sleep. But, oh, the angel curled up beside me, his cheek still resting on my naked shoulder—he looked sublimely serene. I could not remember the last time I had seen Corban’s face so peaceful. He still bore traces of neglect from four days of wretchedness, but they just served to add a scoundrel’s charm to his everyday symmetrical beauty. I felt his whiskers scratch my bare skin, and I couldn’t help smiling as I gently combed a finger through his knotted hair.
    My second thought was that it wasn’t exactly morning.
    I frowned as I glanced at the boarded-up window, which