Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,10
madness to his voice, something I remembered all too well from before. “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Everything’s fantastic.” When he laughed, it had a sharp, insane edge to it.
He wasn’t okay. Far from it. “You said you’d found alternate ways of dealing with the crazy when it landed. How exactly is that? Deep breathing? Meditation?”
“Something like that.”
“Care to expand?”
“Not really.”
His insistence on always being evasive made me crazy. “Nothing’s really changed, has it? You don’t tell me anything.”
“I tell you what you need to know. But some things...you don’t want to know.”
I flinched. “I thought we were in this together. Like a team. The others don’t know the secret about me....”
“And you are never to tell them.” He grabbed my shoulders tightly as if what I’d said had alarmed him. The craziness in his eyes intensified. “You hear me? None of them can ever know about your birth parents.”
“I hear you. Relax.” I reached down and grabbed his hand. Electricity sparked between us and the insanity began to ease from his expression.
Skin to skin. Touching him only spiked my hunger, but it was essential—at least right now—for him to calm down.
The others knew I could do this, just like I could see the searchlights. But they didn’t know the whole truth like Bishop did.
“Better?” I asked.
“Much.” He nodded, entwining our fingers together for a moment that was equal parts blissful and torturous before he reluctantly let go. “I know you’re frustrated by some of the things I do, but you have to trust me.”
“I want to...”
“But?”
My throat tightened as I locked gazes with him. “How can I trust somebody who won’t even tell me his real name?”
“My name is Bishop.”
“It wasn’t always.”
“No. Not always.” He looked into my eyes and for the briefest moment I was certain he was going to tell me. Then something shuttered there, keeping me out when I only wanted in.
Don’t get me wrong, I liked his name. I loved his name, really. It was right and it suited him. But it wasn’t real. It was something made up, like an actor in Hollywood who wanted to leave his humble beginnings far behind.
If anything, I felt uneasier than I had before our private talk. I followed him wordlessly back to the dark alley to find Roth hovering over the angel while still holding the knife. The way he watched her was predatory.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
“She’s so hot. Too bad she’s an angel.” He gave me a cold grin. “I checked under her sweater.”
A sudden flash of fury turned my vision red. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you myself.”
“Chill out, gray-girl.” Kraven stood nearby with his arms crossed over his chest. “I was chaperoning from a disinterested distance. Don’t worry, he didn’t get frisky. It was just her back.”
“She smells so good.” Roth crouched down lower so he could put his face close to hers. “Like strawberries and whipped cream. It’s making me hungry.”
“Get away from her,” Bishop warned.
“Make me.”
All I wanted to do was protect this defenseless girl. I was about to move toward Roth and kick him as hard as I could, hoping to do a little damage with my high heels, when she let out a gasp and her eyes snapped open.
“Back from the dead.” Roth gazed down at her lasciviously. “Welcome, beautiful.”
She stared up at him hovering over her with the knife in his grip. Then her hand shot out and grabbed his throat.
“Get off me.” She pushed him upward and then slammed him down to the ground. She easily disarmed him and held the knife to his throat.
He looked up at her straddling his chest, his eyes wide with surprise.
“That I didn’t expect,” Kraven said, from where he leaned against the wall. “But I kind of like it.”
“Easy.” Bishop approached the furious angel. “It’s okay.”
“How is this okay?” she demanded. “He was sniffing me like a horny dog. Very unprofessional. He must be one of the demons.”
“I’m definitely enjoying this,” Roth said with a lewd grin. “You can sit on me anytime, beautiful. Clothing optional.”
“You’re disgusting.” She jabbed the knife into his throat deep enough to cut him. He winced and blood trickled down his neck. The mocking edge to his expression disappeared. “I despise demons.”
In a single effortless movement, she got to her feet and inspected the golden dagger. Her gaze flicked to Bishop. “Who’s the leader here?”