Company of Angels 02 - The Demoness of Waking Dreams

I would have done differently, if I could. If I could change things now, if I could only go back in time…” Julian paused. “But I can’t. So I hope you’ll accept my apology.”
    “ Complimenti to the Company for brainwashing you so thoroughly,” she said. “Serena St. Clair must have gold between her legs. Because the devil knows that you would never have spoken such words as apology or forgiveness before. Not in the more than two centuries I’ve known you.”
    “Luciana, I truly—”
    “Vaffunculo,” she hissed in the instant before launching herself at him. “And in case you forgot what that means, it translates to ‘go fuck yourself.’”
    * * *
     
    When Julian came out with three bloody lines raked down the side of his classically handsome profile, Brandon was unsurprised.
    “There is a reason she carries out these sacrifices each year, a reason her hatred has escalated over time. You must find out her side of the story. Get her to confess everything to you. She must make the transition to our side. That is the only way to end this. Because if you don’t, Arielle will dispose of her as she sees fit. Luciana has done some inexcusable things in the past, but I still believe there’s good in her. You’ve seen that. I know you have.”
    As Julian left, one thing was clear to Brandon.
    Julian Ascher was not telling the whole truth.
    But he was right. There was a reason Luciana believed she had to remain a demon.
    A secret she was hiding deep within herself.
    And Brandon meant to find out what that secret was.
    When he entered her room, she was sitting at the head of her bed, looking out the window into the darkness, staring out over the ocean. Outside, the moon and stars were so bright that the light flooded into the room and illuminated her pale face.
    It was an image that was entirely in keeping with the rest of his experience of her.
    Ethereally beautiful, but absolutely miserable.
    In the stark emptiness of the room, the vibrancy of her beauty was more stunning than ever.
    “Go away,” she said without turning to look at him. “You should have left when you had the chance. Did someone order you to stay?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “It couldn’t have been the bossy one,” she said quietly, still staring out the window. In the moonlight, her profile was delicate, the vulnerable lines of her difficult to reconcile with the woman who, twelve hours earlier, had injected him with poison. “ Tell me, was she always an ice queen, even when you were sleeping with her?”
    “What makes you think that?” he growled.
    “Spare me. You angels are incapable of telling a decent lie, ” she said.
    “I came to check on you. I thought you might need a friend.”
    Luciana rolled her eyes, finally turning to address him, her green eyes almost leeched of their spark. But not quite. She told him, “You’re not my friend, and I don’t need your pity.”
    “There’s a difference between pity and compassion.”
    “Please. I don’t need a lecture right now. What would someone like you know about pity, anyway? You’re as smug and perfect as the rest of them. Dressed up like a bad guy with your tattoos. Beneath that tough-guy exterior of yours beats a pure heart. It’s the same story for all of you. I bet you lived like a monk before you died. Isn’t that what it takes to be an angel?”
    He didn’t answer, refusing to let her goad him into anger.
    He wanted to tell her that he knew the difference between pity and compassion, because he had given and received both.
    To be perfectly honest, he didn’t know how to help her right now.
    He hadn’t even figured out how to help himself.
    But he asked anyway. When he did, it came out entirely wrong. Perhaps because he was tired. Perhaps because her anger touched something in him that was still raw.
    Whatever the reason, even as the words came pouring out of his mouth, he regretted them.
    “What is it you want so badly that you’re willing to sell your soul to the devil for it?” he said. “Is it that you love power? The thrill of killing? I don’t believe that for an instant. What is it you don’t have? What is it that you want?”
    You. You are what I don’t have, she thought, looking at him. Well, that and revenge.
    “Julian told me his version of the truth,” he said. “About what happened between the two of you. It seems like perhaps the two of you have just come to a ‘he said, she said’ disagreement about events.”
    “Julian is