Deirdre showed the bouncer her ID and headed straight for the red velvet curtain separating the upstairs mortal area of DeLux Café from the underground supernatural level. Like last week, an explosion of pink and red hearts decorated the scene, and she waited in line behind a petite ocelot shifter to check in for the fun.
“Back for more?” Eve grinned as Deirdre stepped up to the table. “We’ve got a few repeat customers tonight. Men and women.”
Deirdre’s pulse sprinted, and she jerked her head toward the men’s waiting area. Whether she was excited at the prospect of Azrael being there or horrified, she wasn’t sure, but a sigh of relief escaped her lips when he was nowhere to be seen.
She ran her fingertips over the tablecloth and reached for the centerpiece, stopping herself when Eve raised a brow. “I had so much fun last week, I figured why not give it another go?” She took her ballot from the vampire’s hand.
Eve winked. “Here’s hoping you find true love tonight.”
“Thanks.” But no thanks. No way.
She stopped by the bar on her way to her assigned table, and this time she did imbibe the whiskey-laced AB negative the tall, pale, and handsome vampire from New Orleans had raved about last week. Lilith knew she needed it. She had a bad case of the jitters.
Sliding into the seat at table five, she slipped her legs, clad in pink faux leather, beneath the tablecloth and peered down at her black corset. She’d forgotten her pants wouldn’t show at this event. Oh well, her shimmery pink eyeshadow should clue the men in that she wasn’t there to play out their gothic fantasies. She’d gotten enough of that lifestyle when she was with her sire all those years ago. Tonight, she was here to have fun.
Eve smiled as she tapped the microphone and waited for everyone’s attention. As the murmur of the crowd quieted, she spoke, “You all know the rules, so, gentlemen, please approach your assigned starting table and let the games begin!”
Deirdre scanned the men’s faces—and bodies—as they filed into the center of the room. She sipped her drink, contemplating which ones had potential. Then her gaze locked on him, and she nearly choked on the blood.
Azrael.
She sputtered and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen her yet and missed her reaction. Contemplating a quick escape, she cut her gaze toward the staircase. If she were in a room full of humans, she could use her vampire speed to jet out of there so quickly no one would know what happened to her.
Sadly, every person here was a supe, which meant enhanced eyesight and reflexes. There was no way she could leave now without making a scene. She would have to put on her big girl britches and face the man who made her feel things she swore she’d never feel again. Thankfully, she had time to compose herself before she had to see him. He started three tables away from her.
The first man sat at her table, but she hardly heard a word he said. Azrael didn’t seem interested in his first date either. His gaze wandered over the wall behind her, off to the side, and then he met Deirdre’s eyes.
His own widened briefly, his nostrils flaring as recognition took hold. The woman he was supposed to be talking to looked at Deirdre, and her gaze bounced between them. Then she smiled and said something that caught Azrael’s attention. He looked confused for a moment, but then he nodded and stood.
The buzzer sounded for the men to move, and Azrael’s long strides took him past the two men he was supposed to stay behind and straight to Deirdre’s table. He pulled out the chair and sank into it, his gaze never straying from hers as the guy who was supposed to see her next tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey, man. You skipped a few.” He was short and slim, like a fae.
“Move to the empty seat.” Azrael cocked his head at her, an amused smile lighting on those full, sexy lips.
“That’s not the way this works.” Irritation edged his voice.
Azrael turned in his chair and gave the man a look that could have frozen an ice cube in the bowels of Hell. The fae grumbled, but he did as he was told and took the empty seat.
“What are you doing here?” Azrael’s voice was unreadable. She couldn’t tell if he was irritated she was in Purgatory again, happy to see her, or just plain bemused.
She straightened her spine—not that she could slouch much in a corset, but still—and arched a brow. “Same as last week. I’m looking for a date. The real question is, what are you doing here? You swore you only did this before because you were forced.”
Heat sparked in his eyes as his gaze dipped to her cleavage. “I’m also looking for someone.”
She sipped her drink. “Seems we both had the same idea.”
“It does. Although, if I’m honest, I—”
The buzzer sounded again, but Azrael didn’t move. That was just fine with Deirdre because she was dying to know what he had to say.
The man from table four stood next to them. “It’s time to rotate.”
Azrael barely spared him a glance. “You’ll be skipping this one tonight.”
“No. You get five minutes. If you want more, you can meet up after.”
The angel winked at her, and damn it if a shiver didn’t shimmy up her spine.
“I’m not finished here, so you can either move to the next lady, or we can take this outside.”
The man eyed Azrael as if sizing him up and then moved on to table six.
Deirdre grinned. If she were being honest, she’d admit his territorial display lit a fire in her core and made her panties wet. “You were saying something about being honest.”
He held her gaze, looking well past her eyes and deep into her soul. She could practically feel his wing wrapped around her body as he smoldered at her, and the calming sensation she’d felt while in his arms last week washed over her again. What was it about Death that brought her so much peace?
A look of indecision tightened his features for a moment before he squared his shoulders and nodded in resolve. “I was looking for you.”
“Oh.” A giggle bubbled up from her throat, and if it were possible for a vampire to blush, she’d have been as red as a boiled crawfish. She needed to respond, but his words had scattered her thoughts like billiard balls.
He cleared his throat. “I’m surprised to see you in all black. Going goth tonight?”
How did he do that? He’d sensed her unease and changed the subject, giving her mind time to catch up to what was happening.
“Not hardly.” She slid her leg out from beneath the table to show her pink pants.
He flashed an appreciative grin. “That’s my girl.”
“Your girl?” Damn him for making her stomach flutter.
His eyes widened like he hadn’t meant to say it. “I mean, that’s how I’ve imagined you over the week.”
“You’ve been imagining me?”
He smoldered at her again, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. “What if I have?”
“I can live with that.” She had imagined him quite a few times over the week as well, though clothing was rarely involved in her daydreams. “The woman you sat with first…what did she say to you?”
He chuckled. “She said I was obviously smitten with you, so I shouldn’t waste anyone’s time by playing this game.”
“And here you are, pissing off all the guys who want a chance with me.”
“Would they have a chance with you?”
“Not while you’re around.” What in Lilith’s name was she doing? Flirting with Death was not on her agenda tonight, but she couldn’t deny her attraction to this man. One more night wrapped in the wings of an angel wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Yes. Yes, it would. She’d just listed all the reasons she couldn’t see him anymore at her session with Dr. Monroe. Then again, the good doctor’s rebuttal was quite convincing. Azrael was immortal, so she’d never lose him to time. He’d had a steady job for millennia, and that reputation for longevity? Out of all the denizens of the Underworld, he had never been known as a player.
Yes, she’d asked around. She couldn’t help herself. Don’t judge.
The buzzer sounded again, and a demon as tall and muscular as Azrael approached their table. “Move it along, Az. She’s mine now.”
Azrael’s brow slammed down over his eyes, and he shot to his feet to face the demon. “I’m not done talking to her.”
At least he didn’t claim she belonged to him. That might’ve been a total turn off…or maybe a turn on. Gah! Simply being near him had her thoughts as twisted as a contortionist eating a jumbo pretzel.
Screw it. She wanted him. He wanted her. There was no sense in fighting a desire this strong. She downed the rest of her drink and rose, taking Azrael by the arm. “It’s obvious we’re only interested in each other. I think we should bow out of the game, don’t you, cher?”
He grunted, eyeing the demon like he was ready to fight to the death for her. So fucking hot. Sliding his arm around her back, he tugged her to his side and led her to the stairs. As they ascended the steps toward the mortal level, he tucked his wings behind his back, and they disappeared. She rested her hand between his shoulder blades, and sure enough, they were gone.
Deirdre bit her bottom lip but released it as they entered the top level so she didn’t flash fang. He could have retracted his wings during their sexy times last week, but he’d chosen not to. He’d let her experience his full self on their first encounter. That said something. She didn’t care to contemplate exactly what, mostly because her thoughts drifted to a word that started with F and ended with A-T-E.
She used to believe in soulmates. Her jackass sire, Beau, had convinced her he was hers, but that was bullshit. She gazed at Azrael’s profile as they exited the café. His strong jaw and sharp cheekbones exuded sexy masculinity. The physical attraction she felt was a no-brainer, but there was something more. Something deeper.
Devil damn her, but she wanted to explore it. She wanted to know him, inside and out. In the words of her absolute favorite singer, Taylor Swift, it could either last forever, or it could go down in a ball of flames hotter than the fires of Hell itself. Only time would tell, and they had all the time in the world.
*.*.*.*.*
Azrael led Deirdre onto the sidewalk and across the intersection, away from the café. Her being here tonight was a sign. It had to be. Throughout the week, more and more pink had found its way into his office décor. None of it was his doing. Well, not his conscious doing anyway, but when his black marble floor changed to rose quartz, he knew he would do whatever it took to see her again.
Showing up at her apartment unannounced would have been majorly creepy, but that would’ve been his next step if he hadn’t seen her at DeLux tonight. But she was at DeLux, right where he thought she’d be.
Now, as they strode side by side down the sidewalk, he needed to say something, but simply being near her was enough for the moment. She had told him to leave last week when he’d offered to stay. Perhaps she left the café with him tonight to end the confrontation with the demon and nothing more.
He stopped when they reached the end of the next block and turned to her. “Deirdre…”
She placed her finger against his lips, stopping his words. “Have you had dinner? Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”
Her talk of biting and eating had his thoughts drifting to all the things he’d like to do to her once he got her alone. C’mon, Az, he chided himself. Drag your mind out of the gutter. “Do you mean food?”
“Unless you drink blood, in which case…” She licked her lips. “Never mind.”
“No, food works.” Food would require conversation, and that was a good thing. If he went home with her now, they’d have a repeat of last week, and he wanted to see if they could be anything more. “Do you…eat?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Food has no nutritional value for me, but I enjoy a rare steak every now and then. Sausage too.” She winked and dropped her gaze to his pants. “But maybe I can have that for dessert.”
His cock twitched at the seductive way she spoke. Damn, this woman lit his soul on fire. “I know just the place. It’s actually near your apartment.”
“Already planning the after party as well?” she purred. “I like the way you think.”
They definitely needed to start their second date in a very public place. Was it getting hot outside, or was the heat radiating through his veins simply from being in her presence?
“Do you want me to call an Uber?” she asked. “I left my car at home tonight.”
“How about we fly?”
She grinned. “Even better.”
They slipped into the alley between two buildings, but as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, she spun and planted her lips on his. He returned the kiss, holding her tight to his body and memorizing the way her delicious curves felt against him.
As the kiss slowed, she leaned back and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Just wanted to get that out of the way so we both know where we stand. We want each other’s bodies. Now, let’s go get to know each other’s minds.”
He adjusted his now fully hard dick and checked the alley entrance to be sure no mortals were around before unfurling his wings, wrapping his arms around her, and taking to the sky. They shot straight up, high enough that, to the people below, they would look like nothing more than a bird. Of course, his magic helped with that illusion, but Deirdre’s bright pink pants could draw unwanted attention if they flew too low.
Once again, she held her arms out to her sides, completely unafraid of the heights at which they soared. “I think this has become my favorite mode of transportation.”
“I’m glad you enjoy it. I like it too.” In fact, he enjoyed it too much. From the moment his Nora crossed over to the spirit realm, he swore he would never open his heart to another again. Yet here he was, doing just that.
Could the Angel of Death find forever happiness with the undead? One way or another, he intended to find out.
He flew her across town to the Smoke and Embers Steakhouse, and thankfully the place was still in operation. Before he met Deirdre, it had been years…no, decades…since he’d ventured topside to have a meal. In fact, the closest he’d been to the mortal realm in forty years—aside from his visits to the souls he had to reap—was the Underworld side of DeLux Café.
Maybe the Angel of Death really did need to get a life.
And he held the start of a potential new one in his arms. After landing in the alley, he hid his wings and offered Deirdre his arm. She took it without hesitation and strolled with him to the restaurant entrance.
“Welcome.” The host, a man in his early twenties with slick black hair and green eyes, regarded them as if he were bored. “What’s the name on the reservation?”
“We don’t have one,” Azrael replied.
“Mm.” He pursed his lips and looked at them like they were naughty children. “We’re a reservation-only establishment. I have an opening next Tuesday at six.”
They didn’t require reservations the last time he was here, though he couldn’t tell the condescending bastard about his visit forty-some-odd years ago. “I see three empty tables right over there.”
The host didn’t bother turning around to look. “That section is closed.”
Azrael’s jaw tightened with an audible click. How hard would it be to seat them at a table? No one else was waiting for one. This, right here, was why he preferred to only deal with the dead. The living were so self-absorbed. “Look,” he started to argue, but Deirdre patted his bicep and stepped toward the host.
She linked her arm around the man’s and touched his shoulder as she whispered something in his ear. Then, she tugged something out of her pocket and passed it to him.
“Right this way.” He smiled and seated them in a cozy nook in the back corner of the dining room.
“What did you say to him?” Azrael asked after the man handed them menus and walked away.
Deirdre laughed. “It’s not what I said; it’s how much I tipped. This section isn’t closed, but a host isn’t about to seat someone without a reservation for free.”
“Interesting.” He had a lot to learn about society today. “Do you drink wine?”
“Only when my usual isn’t available.” She winked, and his stomach fluttered. “Red, please.”
“Of course.”
When the server arrived, Azrael ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.
“What’s good here?” Deirdre looked at her menu, stealing a glance at Azrael as she awaited his answer.
To say he was smitten was an understatement. Her blonde hair cascaded to her shoulders, and her shimmery eyeshadow perfectly accented her sky-blue irises. She looked good in black. Delectable, actually. Hell, she’d look good in Charon’s dusty old robes, as long as she only had eyes for Azrael.
She arched a brow when he didn’t reply.
He cleared his throat. “Everything. If you’re going for rare, the prime rib is excellent. Or…it was forty years ago.” He scanned the selection of steaks, deciding on the New York strip for himself.
“Perfect.” She folded her menu on the table. “Tell me about Azrael, the Angel of Death.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Everything. Let’s start with an easy one. How old are you?”
He chuckled and laid his menu next to hers. That one wasn’t as easy as she thought. “I honestly don’t know.”
“As old as the Underworld itself?”
“Older.”
She let out a low whistle. “And here I am only two hundred thirty-six. Talk about robbing the cradle.” Her smile lit up her entire face. “Were you always a death angel?”
“It’s what I was created for: escorting souls to the spirit realm.”
The server arrived, and they placed their orders. “And when I say rare,” Deirdre said, “I mean slap it on the grill for five seconds and plop it on the plate. I like it bloody as hell.”
“I’ll let the chef know.” The server took the menus and scurried off to the kitchen.
Deirdre sipped her wine before resting her elbow on the table, her chin in her hand. “Now for the ten-million-dollar question. Have you always been single?”
His brow rose as he looked into her eyes. He’d heard from the other angels, who dated much more often than he did, that talking about exes early in a relationship was a red flag. He didn’t want to give her any reason to end this thing before it could begin, but she had asked. The least he could do was be honest. “No.”
She blinked. “No? That’s all you have to say about it?”
“Do you want to hear about my past relationship?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t…wait. Did you say relationship? As in singular? Like you’ve only ever had one?”
“I did.”
“C’mon. A smokin’ hot angel like yourself has only ever dated one chick? I find that hard to believe… Unless there’s something wrong with you. Is there something wrong with you? Please tell me you don’t still live with your mother.”
Azrael flashed an amused grin. Was that nervousness he detected in her tone? Why did he find it so endearing?
“I’ve dated several people. As you learned last week, I do have some experience.”
“Hell yeah, you do.” She took another sip of wine, her shoulders shuddering as if the memory thrilled her.
“I’ve only had a relationship with one. Her name was Nora.”
“Tell me about her.”
He closed his eyes for a long blink, expecting the familiar emptiness to expand his chest, but he merely felt a slight twinge of discomfort. “She was human. Everyone said I was crazy for falling in love with a mortal. They were right, but I couldn’t help it.”
“The heart wants what the heart wants.”
“Very true.”
“What happened to her?”
He smiled sadly. “She loved me, but she wanted nothing to do with the Underworld. I can’t blame her; it looked very different back then.”
Deirdre cocked her head, her brow furrowing in a most adorable way.
“It was all fire and brimstone. These days, it’s much more refined.”
“Interesting. You’ll have to give me a tour someday. The closest I’ve been is the café. Anyway, did you move topside?”
“I split my time. My job is in Purgatory, so I couldn’t move to Earth. It worked for us, but she refused any means of becoming immortal. She grew old and died. I reaped her soul and counseled her through her grief, which was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.”
“I can imagine. You couldn’t have assigned another angel to take care of her spirit?”
He shook his head. “What kind of partner would I have been if I abandoned her when she needed my help?”
“Good point.” She reached across the table and rested her hand on top of his. Her skin was cool, and the gesture brought him comfort he hadn’t expected. “Do you ever go visit her in the spirit realm?”
“Dark angels are forbidden from entering that realm.”
Deirdre grimaced. “So you had to lose her twice. I’m so sorry. That must have been hard.”
She had no idea how difficult it had been, but… “It was a long time ago, and I grieved my loss properly. Let’s not dwell on it.”
She smiled softly, brushing her thumb across the back of his hand. “Thanks for sharing.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” The words surprised him. He meant it. The only person he shared anything about himself with was Jessie, yet he would answer any question Deirdre asked of him.
He laced his fingers through hers. “Your turn. Have you had any long-term relationships?”
She slipped from his grasp and pressed her lips together, smoothing her napkin in her lap. “It’s in the past. Let’s leave it there.”
“You can talk to me if you’re hurting.”
She scoffed and lifted her gaze to his eyes. “I’m not.”
“Will you tell me how you became a vampire?”
She screwed her mouth over to the side, her gaze becoming distant. Azrael could only imagine what she must have gone through to make her avoid her past like this.
The server arrived with their food, and Deirdre’s tense posture relaxed. “This looks amazing.” She picked up her silverware, cutting into her steak immediately and shoving a large piece into her mouth.
Azrael could take a hint. He’d drop the subject for now.
They made small talk over dinner, Deirdre telling him about her undead life and all her adventures, while carefully avoiding anything that happened when she was human. She knew how to have fun. Maybe too much fun. As exciting as her second life sounded, Azrael was a trained therapist. She couldn’t hide her repressed sadness from him. She was compensating for a loss she refused to acknowledge, and that made her all the more intriguing.
As they ate, her closed-off demeanor shifted, the bubbly, flirtatious woman who’d originally caught his eye resurfacing.
He wanted to know both sides of Deirdre. The light and the dark.