Chapter Eighteen

Uriel

I whispered the incantation and sliced through another neck, decapitating my hundredth black-eyed demon in the last two hours. An electric storm thundered above the Eiffel Tower, shaking the structure where I stood on the first level. Whirling, I watched Dommiel gut another demon with the blade attached to his artificial arm. Glancing back across the platform, there were none left of the dozen we’d been fighting here for the last fifteen minutes.

Black-winged angels covered the grounds below, finishing off what was left of the massive horde that had attacked Paris. I’d been more than willing to run to their aid when Anya came for me this morning, explaining how one of Vladek’s attack hordes was trying to take control of France and was moving in on Paris.

A flash of blue streaked past us to an upper level. Dommiel’s gaze followed it with a devilish grin.

“That’s my girl.”

I shook my head. “You know? I think you actually get more turned on the bloodier she gets.”

“No need to think.” He wiped the blade attached to his arm dripping with black blood on his cargo pants. “It’s the fucking truth, man. Best foreplay ever.” His gaze followed her above where the zing of blades echoed. “She’s a goddamn siren to my black soul when she starts killing things.”

I sheathed my sword and stepped up to the balcony, gripping it with both hands and looking out. Trying to catch my breath, I tossed over my shoulder, “Your soul isn’t so black anymore, Dom.”

He parked himself next to me, gazing across the lawn where Maximus, the black-winged leader of this archangel army, swung his giant sword wide and cleaved two demons at once. What demons were left were sifting away, running, or losing their pathetic lives. We’d won this battle pretty quickly.

“Speaking of, how’s yours doing?” asked Dommiel, adjusting his eye patch.

“What’s that?”

“Your soul?” He stared at me pointedly. Dommiel didn’t play games and he wasn’t going to let me evade, even though it wasn’t his goddamn place to butt into my business.

“I’m fine. No need to worry your little head about poor old Uriel.”

He dropped his head back on a bark of laughter. “Poor old Uriel, eh?” He kept chuckling, both of us watching Maximus’s army taking care of business below. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think any of us pities you. None of us do.”

“Then what’s with the question?”

“You’ve changed,” he said emphatically, pulling out a brimstone cigarette and lighting it. “And not for the better.”

I scoffed. “Well, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

“I just did, asshole.”

Only Dommiel would dare call me that. No heat behind it. It made me smile.

“It’s not funny.” His dark ruby eye fixed on me, pointing with the hand dangling the cigarette. “I know better than anyone what hatred can do to a man. Or a demon or archangel. Whatever.” He waved his flesh hand in the air.

Biting my lip, I focused on the mayhem below, glorying in watching one of Vladek’s hordes get pummeled into the earth. Quite literally.

“My hatred is just fine. It’s serving me well enough.”

“You’re such a dick.”

I actually choked on a laugh. “Come again?”

“Look, we all know you went through hell. We get it. But if you let them change who you are, who you were, then they win.”

“Philosophy from the wisdom of a fallen demon.”

“I know better than you what hatred costs.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, the tip flaring red. “Besides, Anya is worried. When she worries, it gets my panties in a bunch.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

“No. We wouldn’t.”

I reached over and plucked the cigarette from his hand and took a long drag. Brimstone was an otherworld narcotic that heightened an angel or demon’s magical senses. It was a temporary high and a filthy vice I’d never been tempted to try. But one hit flared the rolling power inside my chest, making it hum with life. Making me feel slightly more aware.

“Not bad.” I went to hand it back, but Dommiel was grinning like a fiend.

“Keep it.” He lit another.

“Look.” I paused, a gust of wind pushing against us. A streak of lightning spider-webbed across the sky, but the rumble of thunder sounded farther away as the battle ended. “I get it. But I have a plan, and it’s going to work.”

“Your plan to get into Vladek’s castle.”

I took another drag, inhaling deep, relishing the burn of the brimstone. “That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh.” He eyed me carefully. Smart one, this demon. He knew my whole plan, I was sure, but he didn’t mention it. “So what happens when all goes well, and we’re finished with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. What’s your plan for afterward? After Vladek?”

Nadya lit up my mind. She was afraid of me last night. Maybe not of me, but definitely of being intimate. I wasn’t lying when I told her I’d wait as long as she needed. What would it take for her to trust me? More time? Or was she scarred too deep? Should I walk away and leave her in peace?

Dommiel chuckled. He squinted as a swirl of gray-gold brimstone smoke filtered around his face, his one-eyed gaze on me. “I thought so.”

“What?”

“You should definitely go for it. Nadya needs a man like you.”

I stared at him, unblinking, for a few seconds. He laughed louder, tipping his head back and blowing a stream of smoke into the wind.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“It’s so fucking obvious. I knew it the second we brought you to her doorstep. You two vibrate like two tuning forks around each other.”

He leaned his elbows on the bannister, watching Maximus’s army moving into formation to sweep the city since we’d decimated the central horde here.

“It fits, though. You two.” He took another drag before flicking the cigarette into the wind. “Makes sense.”

I didn’t ask, because I didn’t want to know. But then in typical Dommiel fashion, he barreled ahead anyway.

“You have similar wounds, the two of you. You’d heal better together than you would apart.” He faced me and clapped me on the shoulder with an easy grin. “Besides, she wants you something fierce.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You’re a bigger idiot than I thought then.”

I took one more drag, enjoying the zing of the brimstone, before stubbing it out on the railing. “She might. But it’s more complicated than that. She’s…scared.”

“It’ll hurt her more—hell, it’ll hurt you both if you just ignore it and let it go.”

“So what do I do?” And how the hell did I find myself asking for relationship advice from this damn demon of all people?

“Easy.” He shrugged. “You find out why she’s scared, and you make it go away.”

“Easy,” I repeated on a disbelieving huff. “Yeah.”

Anya sifted beside us with a crackling snap of power, her katana gripped in her right hand at her side.

“Well, that was easier than expected.” She smiled.

Dommiel eyed her like she was dessert. “Yeah. I’d say we’re done here. Let’s get home.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s check in with Maximus first. Make sure he doesn’t need help.”

“I think you all can manage from here,” I said, eager to get back to Nadya. Even though I planned to keep my distance, I needed to be near her.

“You’ll let us know if you two need anything,” said Anya, her black hair whipping in the wind.

“I will.” I gave her a nod, then Dommiel. “Thanks.”

“Just remember what I said. Take care of it.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Make her fear go away. Easy, right?

With that, I sifted out through the Void, blurring through time and space before snapping out in the woods next to Circe. She barely opened her slit eyes at me even though I’d stirred up a tornado of snow.

“All quiet here, girl?”

Circe stared at the cottage and huffed out a puff of gray smoke.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

The cottage was pristine, a square of yellow light coming from the window, a wisp of wood-smoke swirling out of the chimney. I could picture her inside, wearing that thin, white gown, looking so beautiful it made my heart hurt. I gulped hard and patted Circe.

I’d give her some space for now and focus on the fight in Zigor’s pit that was coming. For now. But one thing about myself had never changed. When I wanted something, I didn’t give up. I only hoped Nadya was ready for my kind of perseverance. Because claiming her and making her mine was quickly eclipsing all other goals in my life. I hoped Dommiel was right and she wanted me half as much as I wanted her.

“Dommiel says it’s easy, girl.” I smoothed a palm over Circe’s scales. “But I don’t know exactly what it is she’s afraid of.”

Circe grunted out a disinterested growl.

“I guess I’ll just have to figure it out.”

Or die trying.