Wings of the Wicked - By Courtney Allison Moulton Page 0,37

at me with a silly, adorable smile. “I’ll be your valentine.”

I laughed out loud. “Yeah, right. That’ll go over well.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re against the idea. Do you think your Guardian would be jealous?”

I did my best to give him a serious look as I fought back laughter. “Cadan, you are not going to be my date. And you’re avoiding all of my questions.”

He frowned. “The answers aren’t so exciting, believe me.”

I recalled Ava’s story about the relic guardian. “So, this Grigori who hates you. You aren’t old lovers, are you?”

“No.” He laughed. “No, no. She had something I wanted, and she wouldn’t give it to me. It’s a story for another time.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “If you won’t talk about the Grigori, then I won’t talk about Valentine’s Day.”

That sly smile crept back into his sculpted lips. “I meant it when I said I’d be your date. I love parties. We first met at a party. Don’t you find it oddly romantic?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Odd, yes. Romantic, no.”

He frowned. “That hurts. Really.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“Speaking of romance,” he started, “are you going to tell me about this book you were so engrossed in that you barely even noticed me?”

I gave him a sidelong glance. “You really want to know?”

“I’d like to understand what captivates you,” he said. “So that I may aspire to do the same.”

“Would you like a little wine to go with all that cheese?” I asked.

“Would you like me better if I were gloomy and morose?” He grinned, his eyes teasing.

“I wouldn’t like you much at all if you were either of those.”

He leaned back and lazily put his elbows up on the back of his chair. “Then what is the appeal of your Guardian? He is quite definitely gloomy and morose.”

I’d let Cadan have one point. “Don’t you think morose is a little severe?”

“You must agree that he is rather moody and glum.”

“He’s not glum.”

His grin widened. “So you admit that he’s gloomy and moody.”

“I never said that.”

“But you don’t deny it.”

I exhaled in annoyance. “You’re obnoxious.”

“But at least I’m not morose.”

“Will isn’t morose.”

“Tell me about the book you’re reading.”

I blinked in surprise. Was he serious? He sat beaming with self-satisfaction. Playing games with my head was apparently hilarious. He was insufferable.

“Please?”

I stared at him. He was serious. “Okay then.”

I didn’t even realize what time it was until the librarian came into the room and told us they were closing. I was shocked that I’d had such a good time and that I was sorry it was over.

“And this is where I leave you,” he said, standing.

I followed, watching him carefully. “It was nice talking to you.”

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, his lips and breath warm. “It’s always a pleasure.”

He stepped aside and held out his arm to allow me first through the door. He followed me out of the library, and I stopped at the bottom of the steps. The night air was very cold, and snow fell generously. I turned toward Cadan and looked up at him. He wasn’t quite as tall as Will, but he was built strong, and he was beautiful.

“Really, Cadan,” I said. “Thank you. I’ve had a pretty bad week, but you made me feel better.”

“Then I can die happy,” he replied dramatically.

I rolled my eyes. “Cut it out. I’m being serious. I enjoyed talking to you.”

He smiled warmly. “I hope we can do it again soon.”

“Are you going to tell me that story?” I teased. “About the Grigori?”

His smile widened. “Maybe. Good night, Ellie.”

“Good night.” I smiled at him before walking away.

I was conflicted. I felt like Cadan was my friend and definitely not my enemy. He was demonic by birth, but there was nothing about him that radiated evil. Will was so sure that demonic reapers only wanted the destruction of the world and my death above all, but Cadan didn’t want to kill me. He’d had a thousand opportunities so far.

Or was I just an incredible fool?

A shadow passed over my head, and I looked up, startled.

A reaper appeared out of the Grim, ash-gray wings spread wide through the falling snow. White-blond hair billowed and settled as the reaper landed. Cold, pale eyes locked on mine.

Ivar. Her body moved so fast that the heavy cloth of the black cloak she wore lifted in the air behind her. The gray furred hood fell off her head as she lunged for me, clawed hand outstretched. I knocked her arm aside,