Page 30 of Touched By Death

“You’ve had a difficult day,” he says after a while, the backs of his knuckles skimming my cheekbone. “Nightmares are bound to happen.”

“Why am I wearing your shirt?”

A soft sigh leaves him. “You were covered in blood.”

Humming, I roll over onto my stomach and burrow deeper into the pillow. It smells of Dmitriy and fresh linen.

Chapter Eleven

DAEMON

“Well, if this isn’t fucking cozy?” I growl, two seconds away from tearing my cousin to shreds. As soon as I heard that the angel had been hurt and witnesses had seen Dmitriy carry her out of the academy, I flew over here with the others hot on my heels. Clearly, gossip doesn’t reach my ears as soon as it should, if this view is anything to go by.

Slowly shifting the little witch’s unfolded wing out of the way of his bare chest, Dmitriy slides out from the bed and rises to his full height. The fucking smirk on his face makes me want to grab his head and bash his face against the nearest wall, but with one look at the angel sleeping soundly in his bed, I force down the urge. My heart hurts at seeing her in Dmitriy’s shirt. Ronan and Alaric growl behind me, like snarling dogs. Dari sidesteps me, but I grab her hair and pull her back behind me.

Dmitriy watches the exchange with amusement sparkling in the depths of his dark eyes. They flick over my wings as they unfold behind me in a threatening display. “What can I do for you, cousin?”

“What happened?”

His brows fly up at the same time Dari’s jaw hits the floor.

“What happened?” she all but shrieks, pointing to the bed. “Are you not going to fucking slaughter your cousin for touching her?”

I hold my hand up, silencing her tirade. “What. Happened?”

Crossing his arms, biceps bulging, he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip. “The stalker happened.”

Stiffening, I look past him at Aurelia before shouldering Dmitriy out of the way and sitting down beside her on the bed. As I stroke her hair away from her throat, she stirs, mumbling Dmitriy’s fucking name in her sleep. It takes everything in me not to cut off his balls and serve his head on a fucking platter, but the long cut on her olive skin has me pausing. I look behind me at Dmitriy. “He cut her?”

The smirk on his lips falls, and he scrubs at his jaw as he walks up to me. “Yeah...”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” I growl.

Clearing his throat, he looks at me. “Aurelia is dangerous, Daemon.”

Lost in my own thoughts, I ignore his statement. “Why not just kill her?”

“I think you need to hear me out. What I have to say is important.”

When he doesn’t immediately elaborate, I gesture wildly. “Go on then. I’m listening. You have two seconds.”

“I think she feeds on fear and chaos.”

Shoulders tense, Alaric walks up to us. “What do you mean?”

“Have you seen her drink any blood lately? How is she sustaining herself? You must have seen firsthand how she tortures her victims.”

“The body parts,” Alaric says under his breath, his eyes growing wide.

“Yes, and the other night, when this guy”—he gestures to Ronan—“escorted me home, she had just burned down a pub as part of the hunt.”

I slowly rise to my feet, hands fisting rhythmically at my sides, and look down at the angel and back. I’m too fucking restless to stand still, knowing someone tried to hurt her and I wasn’t there to protect her again. “What are you saying?”

“I think someone knows more about her darkness than we do.”

“Fuck off,” I snarl, pointing a finger to the bite marks. “What about them? Did you drink from her?”

“Me?” He laughs incredulously—a quick burst of chuckles that soon dies down when I roll my shoulders back. “No, that was the stalker.”

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