Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,11

“You’re another demon, aren’t you?”

“Is it my cologne or my good looks that gave me away?”

I was becoming more impressed by the second. I’d expected her to be scared and uncertain, like she’d been before. But this angel could kick some serious ass.

“I’m Cassandra,” she said when her attention fell on me. “You said your name’s Samantha, right?”

“That’s right. Samantha Day.”

She cocked her head. “I thought you were human, but...” She looked at Bishop. “I sense that she’s soulless—a gray. I don’t understand.”

“Samantha’s different from the others. I’ll explain everything later.” Bishop’s eyes flicked warily to the knife the blond angel clutched. “I’m Bishop. That’s Kraven. And the demon on the ground in need of a Band-Aid is Roth. Welcome to Trinity, Cassandra.”

“Glad to be here.” She rubbed her previously injured chest and gave him a bright smile. “Stupid ritual.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He grinned back at her.

I’d been more than prepared to like Cassandra, but a dark ribbon of jealousy suddenly appeared out of nowhere to twist through me.

“Take me to your headquarters and we’ll debrief,” she said.

“Sure thing.” Bishop glanced at me. “Samantha, go home.”

The gorgeous, blond angel gets a killer smile and I get the brush-off. Awesome.

“No,” Cassandra said. “She’s coming with us.”

“Is that necessary?” Bishop asked.

“I have a few questions for her.”

He flicked a glance at me before returning his attention fully to Cassandra and he gave her another knee-weakening grin before offering her his arm. “Of course. Anything you like.”

She took his arm and he began to lead her away, ignoring the rest of us.

I glanced at Kraven as that sharp-taloned jealousy I was trying to ignore began to leave claw marks on the inside of my chest.

He smirked at me. “Love hurts, sweetness.”

Chapter 4

I only had myself to blame. Bishop said I should go. Instead, I insisted on sticking around to help the helpless girl who wasn’t helpless at all.

Now I felt like a specimen under the microscope as Cassandra had been watching every move I made since we got back to St. Andrew’s, which was the abandoned church in an abandoned neighborhood the team had chosen as their makeshift “headquarters” and temporary hotel. Along with yours truly, the blonde angel swept her appraising gaze over the tall ceiling, stained-glass windows and rows of pews in the main sanctuary. Since there was no electricity, hundreds of candles were lit throughout, giving the area an eerie glow.

My feet hurt from these heels—which were meant for nightclubs, not brisk walks through the city streets. Still, the pain gave me a focal point. I concentrated on my aching feet rather than the threads of panic stitching unpleasant patterns through my gut. Even though I’d been given an uneasy pass when it came to the team, I still had a lot in common with a mouse in the middle of a group of feral cats. It didn’t matter if they had halos or horns.

While Cassandra studied me, I studied Bishop. Hard not to. My gaze was always drawn to him when he was in the same room as me. I couldn’t ignore him if I tried.

I refused to believe it was just because I was attracted to his soul, even if that was his hypothesis for my unearthly infatuation with him.

I didn’t feel like this toward Colin. Or anybody else with a soul.

Bishop was different for me. Different from anyone.

And when his gaze followed Cassandra through the sanctuary as if he couldn’t look away from her, the gnawing ache inside me suddenly had nothing at all to do with hunger.

The other demons had taken seats in the pews on opposite sides of the church. Kraven sat three rows from the front.

“Why’d they send another angel?” he asked sullenly, cutting through the silence that had fallen since we’d arrived here. “I thought we were supposed to be all nice and balanced. Now it’s four against two.”

“An exception was made,” Cassandra replied crisply. “Demons are rarely trustworthy enough to be part of a rare mission like this without causing trouble. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Don’t try to butter me up now, Blondie. You already said you despise demons.” His lips curled to the side. “It’s almost like you’re trying to hurt my tender feelings.”

She grimaced. “I apologize. That was rude of me. Truth is, I’ve never even met one before face-to-face.”

Roth sat in the front row, eyeing her with caution while rubbing the shallow wound at his throat. Demons and angels usually healed much faster than humans, but after the