Page 17 of Wicked Savior
I give him an exasperated look. “To study it, of course. I can’t quite figure out what you are, but your blood would tell me your genetic make-up.” Or at least it should. The recent Druid results have shown me nothing.
“My origin is angel. Wouldn’t my genes tell you the same?” he states, but I hear a flicker of interest in his tone.
“You’re an angel, that’s true, but you seem different than them,” I inform him, utterly fascinated by this male standing in front of me. “Are there others like you?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Looks like we’re both interested in answers. Why don’t you answer my questions and I’ll answer yours?”
The scientist in me is screaming for answers. Why can’t he just give me his blood? It’s not like I’m asking for his firstborn. My mind latches onto the idea. Does he have children? His blood mixing with other races could produce interesting results. I contemplate asking him, but he’s already moving on to something else. Pushing him at this point would probably have a detrimental effect.
He arches a brow.
Right. An irritated sigh escapes. “What’s your first question?”
He shifts his stance, coming in closer to my body. A large finger swipes a piece of hair and tucks it behind one of my ears. “Why do the angels want to kill you?” His voice is low and dark as if he’s trying to entice me into telling him my secrets.
My body clenches from the seductive edge of it. “I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask them.” My answer is true, but there’s a husky tone to the words that I’m not used to hearing. I clear my throat and refocus on the conversation.
He opens his mouth, but I place a finger across his pouty lips. “My turn, right?” He doesn’t answer, but he does close his mouth. “Who are you?”
He tenses and enough seconds pass that I wonder if he’s going to answer. “Lucifer.” Blue eyes stare steadily at me, as if waiting for my reaction.
That makes complete sense. The rebellious angel. The keeper of Hell. So much speculation surrounds him, but with all the stories, it’s hard to tell fact from fiction. I deal in facts.
“Evren. It’s nice to meet you.” I squeeze the hand I’m still holding, then release it.
The look of suspicion is back. Is introducing myself not the polite thing to do?
“How did you kill those angels?” he bluntly asks.
I raise my eyebrows. He’s making the huge assumption that I killed them. I mean, I did, but it’s a leap to think a human killed an angel. “I stabbed them with a knife.” All true, although the knife alone wouldn’t kill them.
His brows come together in confusion. “A knife? There was no evidence of a stabbing. Is it spelled? I’d like to examine it.”
My mouth twitches with amusement. “As a scientist, I thought I had a lot of questions. One question. One answer. It’s my turn.”
Eyes narrowed; I ask the one question that’s bothering me the most. “Why do you want to save me from the angels?” Lucifer isn’t exactly known for his benevolent acts of kindness. There has to be a more self-serving reason.
“I’m guessing it isn’t enough to want to save a beautiful woman such as yourself?” he murmurs, a flirty smile on his lips that never reaches his eyes.
When I don’t respond, he sighs and mutters something about losing his touch. “The angels want you dead. More importantly, Gabriel wants you dead. He wants it badly enough that he’s hiding his actions from those above him.” He pauses. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prevent him from killing you. Why? Because he hates failure. Will do almost anything to avoid it. I can’t help but think if he repeatedly fails, it will push him over the edge, and he’ll fall right into my hands.”
Harsh. There’s not an ounce of forgiveness in his bones for his enemies; only hate blazes from his piercing blue eyes. I like it and admire it. Unfortunately, his need to keep the angels from me is the exact opposite of what I need to happen. I’m searching for one angel, so them coming to kill me actually saves me time.
“I see. That answer doesn’t work for me,” I inform him, much to his shock. “As you know, I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need a savior, especially not one with your agenda. So, thank you… but no thank you.”
He tilts his head as if examining my words, then smiles so broadly, dimples appear.
“I’m not asking for your permission, but I find it oddly endearing that you think you can dictate my actions,” he replies, his voice full of amusement.
Leaning down, he inhales deeply. “You smell human, but more. Not witch. Druid? Or Nephilim? Maybe the daughter of one? It’s hard to tell. I’m looking forward to spending more time together. Unfortunately, I have to leave, but I’ll leave my guards here to protect you. If you need me, call out. They will know, and I’ll appear.”
With those final words, I blink, and he disappears. Closing my eyes, I cast a net to search for power, but nothing comes back. He’s gone. For now.
Bemused, I shake my head. I guess if the angels want to kill me, they’ll have to go through him. The idea of him protecting me is truly absurd, but instead of laughter, a weird bubbly sensation fills me. I scoff. It’s not personal. He’s not trying to save me, only thwart them.
So why can’t you stop thinking about it?My inner voice whispers.
Determined to focus, I dismiss the thoughts and turn my attention back to the lab. Where was I? That’s right. Blood and specimens. Stepping over to the computer, I create an ad and infuse it with magic to make sure it finds the right specimens… Druids and dying humans.
