Page 74 of The Ripper

“Okay, and your last name?”

“What about it?” I took her chin between my fingers.

“What is it?” she asked and pulled away when I wanted to kiss her. “You’re not allowed to distract me, you devil.” She punched my arm, and I pretended it hurt.

“Abaddon,” I pulled her back, and she allowed me to kiss her.

“Aren’t you Russian?” she frowned.

“My great grandfather took his wife’s name,” I shook my head.

“That’s actually so sweet,” she cooed, smiling. “Does it mean something?”

I sighed as I let my hands wander over her back and down her thighs. “The correct translation from Hebrew is destruction. It also has some religious references I’d rather not associate myself with.”

“I thought it sounded familiar.” She sat up on my lap and propped her palms on my chest.

“You know about it?” I raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“I think you already know I used to be religious, because you’ve stalked me for six years,” she giggled. “His story isn’t entirely clear, though. In the Old Testament, Abaddon is described as a place of destruction and death, but according to a sermon, he was an angel named Muriel who was appointed to be Adam’s guardian, and even before his fall, angels, demons, and mortal creatures were afraid of him.”

I nodded, and she shivered above me.

“That sermon fascinated me the first time I heard it, so I researched it further.” She shook her head, and I continued to listen, even though I knew the story probably just as well as she did. “There’s no real way of knowing if he’s a fallen angel, a demon born from hell, or just an angel of the abyss.” She bit her lip as she looked at me, and I patiently waited. “The one thing that is certain about him is that he’s the only being in all of hell that Satan himself refuses to have a confrontation with.”

“It’s just a name,Snezhinka.”

I swallowed my words when she gave me a naughty grin and rolled her hips on top of me.

“I don’t know; I kind of like the idea of the devil himself being afraid of you,” she laughed when I shook my head. “Still, don’t you think it’s poetic?”

“What?”

“That a messenger of God might be destined to fall for the demon of destruction?”

“Might?” I raised an eyebrow and pressed her down on my erection, eliciting a moan out of her.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she laughed.

“Well, my little angel, if destiny does exist, and we are fated to one another… maybe we’re meant to balance each other out.” I pulled her back onto my chest so her head rested on it again, and I wrapped my arms around her waist. “Perhaps you are destined to tame my destructive tendencies, and I am destined to murder your demons.”

She shivered at my words, lifting her head to look at me as I brushed my fingers through her hair, its silkiness still amazing me even after I had it wrapped around my fist.

“You know, you think you noticed me first, but it’s actually the other way around,” she giggled, toying with her fingers around the collar of my T-shirt.

I froze for a second, then my brows drew together as I lowered my chin to look at her.

“What do you mean?”

She munched on her lips, almost as if she didn’t want to give much away, but it was too late.

“I was in line at a luggage pickup, nine years ago, and across from me, was this handsome man who had a darkness around him. You were waiting on your bag from a different flight, but I felt myself drawn to you,” she smiled, moving her hand up, hovering her fingers above my face. “May I?” Arella asked, her eyes filled with warmth.

I swallowed hard, finally understanding what they meant by “fate works in mysterious ways”, so I nodded, waiting for her to continue the story.

“I wondered why everyone around you whispered and quickly looked away from you, as if you were some sort of monster,” she said as she slowly brushed her finger over my scar. “I wondered why they judged you so harshly without knowing you, and I wondered…” she swallowed, closing her mouth for a second as she peered into my eyes.

“What?” I asked, pulling her up until her face hovered above mine.

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