Noting that his gaze was hung up on two very private areas that were clearly visible through the soaked shirt, I realized that I would have no problem stabbing him through the heart at the moment.
Not at all.
“I’m also very pissed.” I joined my hands together on the hilt as I swung the sword forward. Grace spit and crackled, charging the air.
“I can tell.” Zayne snapped forward, catching my wrists before the sword could reach him. “And I’m kind of turned on.”
A scream of rage left me as I leaned back, bracing my weight on one foot. I kicked out, catching him in the stomach.
Zayne grunted, but didn’t let go. “Ouch.” He twisted his arm, spinning me around. He pulled me back against him and the chill of his skin seeped through the thin, wet shirt. “Didn’t we just find ourselves in this very same predicament only a few hours ago?”
White fire crackled and throbbed as I pulled against his hold. “When you said you would kill me the next time you saw me?” I spat back. “Instead you saved me.”
“But I’m still seeing you.” His chin dipped, grazing my cheek. “Aren’t I?”
“Yeah, and the night is still young.” I threw my head back, but he avoided the blow. “Why are you even here?”
“I was watching your place.”
I stiffened. Well, now I knew he remembered where we lived. “That’s creepy.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, and it’s also wrong. It’s our place.”
His grip on my wrists tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t. Keep telling yourself that you’re going to kill me or that you didn’t save me because you needed to do that. Whatever makes you feel good.”
His other arm circled my waist. “You’re making me feel good.”
There was a rather shameful flash of heat in response to his words, to how his voice had finally changed, becoming rougher, deeper. I didn’t know if I was more annoyed with myself or him at that moment.
“You’re going to wear yourself out.” His lips ghosted across the curve of my jaw, sending a fairly inappropriate shiver dancing over my skin. “And then what, little nephilim? No grace. No daggers. It’ll just be me and you.”
“It’s always been just you and me, Zayne.”
Whether it was my words or the use of his name that startled him, his hold loosened enough for me to slip my left wrist free. I twisted away from him, and for a second, the Sword of Michael throbbed intensely between us.
He smiled then, and my heart tripped over itself, because it was one of his smiles. Warm. Charming. Kind. Familiar.
“Maybe I’ll keep you alive, then,” he said. “Keep you in a cage, my pretty little nephilim. You can be my pet.”
His pet? I blinked. He did not just suggest what I thought he did. “Maybe I’ll cut off your—”
He yanked forward, and I tried to dig in, but my feet slipped over the wet deck. Tingles exploded along my shoulders.
He spun me out to the side. His wings snapped back as my gaze darted to the gathering shadows racing across the rooftop, toward us.
Chairs and tables lifted to the air, flying to the sides as two cyclones of red and black...smoke came at us.
I squinted. “What in the holy Hell?”
The smoke expanded and then scattered, revealing the demons’ smooth, waxy skin and oval-shaped, pupilless eyes and holes for nostrils above wide, cruel mouths.
These weren’t Ghouls. They were Seeker demons who were often sent to retrieve things of value for Hell.
How in the world did Gabriel get them on his side?
They skidded to a halt as they got an eyeful of...not me.
Of Zayne.
“Fallen,” one of them whispered in a guttural voice.
Zayne lifted his wings. I didn’t see it, but I felt them stir my hair as they rose above us.
The other Seeker demon cursed. “I didn’t sign up for this.” He turned on his heel and started to run, red and black smoke gathering around him.
Well, then.
Zayne lifted off the deck like a rocket. The Seeker demon didn’t make it very far.
I glanced at the other demon. He started forward, clearly not as affected by me.
“You’re coming with me, nephilim.”
Now I was kind of offended.
“Don’t make this hard,” the demon ordered. “You’ll just hurt yourself in the end.”
“Really?” The Sword of Michael pulsed intensely. “God,” I muttered, stepping to the side. “Tonight is the worst.”
I swung the sword. The Seeker demon was fast, but I was faster. He jumped back, but I spun, slicing the sword high, catching him in the midsection. The fiery blade cut through him as if his bone and muscle were nothing more than tissue paper.
“Dammit,” the Seeker demon muttered just before the flames rippled over his body...parts.
“Stimulating final words,” I said, turning around.
The other Seeker demon met the same end. Sort of. There were sounds of a whole lot of...ripping and tearing that I didn’t even want to think about.
My arms trembled as the grace throbbed in the center of my chest. I shouldn’t be burned out yet, but I was getting close. Normally I could last longer, but again, wasn’t like I was getting much rest. There was enough juice in me to do what needed to be done. My heart started racing again as wet warmth gathered under my nose. Zayne already felt my grace, so me pulling on it wouldn’t alert him to what I was doing.
Now was a better time than any. That’s what I told myself as I started across the roof to where Zayne stood. I wouldn’t even need the Crone. Zayne was here, and even though I wanted to punch him really hard, he was in there. He had to be. Why else was he watching me? Why else had he showed not once but twice to back me up? He was in there, and I was going to free him, one way or the other.
Pressure clamped down on my chest as those magnificent wings soundlessly swept back. He looked over his shoulder at me. One side of his lips curled up as he dragged his lower lip between his teeth.
My stupid, stupid heart skipped, and my steps faltered for only a heartbeat.
And that was all it took.
He was just so fast, too fast, and even if I was in tiptop shape, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He caught my arm before I could even lift the sword.
The glow under his skin increased as he lowered his head, coming within mere inches of the Sword of Michael. “You’re bleeding.”