muted but familiar. Azazel said something, and someone whose voice I didn’t recognize replied. I couldn’t make out all the words, but it seemed he was receiving some sort of report about his estate.
Damn. The exit to the hallway was in that very room. To get out of here, I’d have to walk past him. And ask him for an escort to my suite.
No way would I brave the hallways by myself again, not with the memory of the inferni’s teeth sinking into my flesh still vivid in my mind. If it weren’t for those blasted beasts, I could simply summon an archway—thanks to the convenient dagger with which Azazel supplied me—and sneak out of here with my demonic spouse none the wiser.
As it was, the threat of the inferni hunting me down again kept me from venturing out alone. However stubborn I could be, I wasn’t too stupid to live.
Well, nothing for it—I had to let him know I was up and moving and ready to go back to my rooms. With any luck, he’d have someone else escort me right back, maybe the demon he was talking to. After all, wasn’t that what he’d wanted? Me, staying in my rooms, with as little interaction between us as possible? He was about to get his wish.
I turned back to the bed and swiped the dagger off the mattress. A gift was a gift. I wasn’t trained in wielding blades, and I didn’t know how much good it would do me if I had to use it in self-defense—I had a sword against the inferni, and they overran me in seconds—but I wasn’t going to just leave this beautiful stabby thing here.
I walked out into the sitting room, stopping a few feet away from the door leading into whatever parlor or some such room lay beyond. My stomach tightened, my muscles tensing.
The other demon broke off mid-sentence, the following silence oddly attentive. I frowned at the little splashes coming from the room, like water dripping and gurgling in a fountain.
“Leave,” Azazel said quietly.
“My lord.” Sounds of retreat, a door opening and shutting.
Taking a deep breath, I stalked into the room.
Azazel stood at what appeared to be indeed a fountain, his fingers idly playing through the agitating water. His broad frame held a hum of tension, a bite to his energy as it misted darkly about his form. The air seemed to hush around him, as if holding its breath. In awe—or fear.
“Sleep well?” His voice was a silken murmur, his expression guarded as he looked at me.
Yeah, about that. I so didn’t appreciate the little trick he pulled on me earlier, and the reminder of how easily he could infiltrate my mind only reinforced the urge to get away from him.
“If you would be so kind,” I said with as much politeness as I managed while my anxiety grasped for control, “to have someone escort me to my rooms. Please.”
Something harsh and dark flitted across his expression, there and gone again. He took a step toward me, and I moved back a little, even without conscious thought.
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but his voice was a sensual purr. “Didn’t you want my attention?” With the kind of lithe grace of a great cat, he closed the distance between us. “You have it now.”
My back bumped into the wall. “I thought you wanted to ignore me,” I whispered. “That’s fine by me, you know.”
His power buzzed in the inches separating us, as tangible as a physical touch. An image of the torn-off wings flashed before my eyes. I sucked in a harsh breath, and my gecko brain eagerly reached for the reins, instincts kicking in once more.
He clucked his tongue, his voice a soothing murmur. “None of that now.”
Grasping my right wrist with one hand, he lifted it and pulled the sheath off the dagger I still clutched. With his hand wrapped around my hand holding the blade, he brought the knife up to his throat, laid it against his skin.
“This dagger is forged in Hell,” he said softly. “As such, it is one of the few weapons that can make me bleed.” His eyes swirled silver as they held me spellbound. “And kill me.”
My heart raced, bright spots danced in my vision. Breath coming too fast, I was glad I was leaning against the wall for purchase. One slice, and I could slit his throat. My hand trembled ever so slightly.
“Now,” he murmured, leaning in just a little, putting