Page 80 of Touched By Sin
His breath gusts over my chin and his teeth grind as he hovers with his lips over mine. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why are you so grumpy?” I counter.
“I’m trying to keep you safe.” He shifts infinitesimally closer as I hold my breath against the onslaught of his intoxicating, masculine scent and his heat. He’s built like a tank, towering over me. If he touched me now, my queen would topple. I need the shield of board pieces to guard me against him. Especially when I feel the heat of his fingertips slide down the thin strap on my shoulder. His lips follow, a soft press on my creamy skin. As he straightens back up, my lungs burn from the need to inhale fully.
“Stay close to me tonight.” He opens the door and guides me inside with his hand pressed to my lower back. I hastily pull the strap back up while he steers me deeper into the belly of the mansion. My heels sink into the red plush carpet on the stone floor. Cast iron sconces flicker, creating shadows that chase us along the walls, and the air smells of long, dark winters and damp stone. I always imagined Hell as a warm place, with burning flames designed to entrap your soul, but it’s cold, and the flames on the walls don’t ward off the icy bite in the air.
Voices drift closer, causing Daemon to stiffen beside me as he pulls on his tie. It’s the only outward sign of his unease. His face remains a hard, impenetrable mask.
As we enter a large sitting room, my gaze dances over the plush couches in front of the most impressive mantelpiece I’ve ever seen, and the intricate carvings in the stone draw my eye as we walk closer.
Flames flicker wildly, the occasional spark quickening my heartbeat. Three men sit on the couches, and when they spot us, their conversation falls silent. Lucifer is the first man to stand up. His dark eyes fall up and down my body, noting every curve and crease in the expensive silk. It’s difficult not to fidget beneath his scrutinizing gaze. Lucifer strikes me as a man whom nothing gets past. He sweeps his hand out and says, “Meet my brother, Amenadiel.”
The man in question walks up to us and holds his hand out for mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again,Angel.We met on your first day at the academy, remember?”
I don’t like the way he emphasizes my nickname. It feels wrong. My skin crawls when I slide my hand into his.
Pressing a kiss to the backs of my knuckles, he smiles. I know him from the stories told to me as a young girl. Amenadiel is Lucifer’s oldest brother and one of the fallen angels that walked out of Eden. “I believe you’ve met my sonDmitriy?”he asks.
I snatch my hand away out of instinct. “I have.”
Memories of Dmitriy’s hands on my body flash through my mind as he steps up to us with a smirk. “Hi, Angel.”
Next to me, Daemon vibrates with anger. If he could, he would wrap his fingers around Dmitriy’s throat and squeeze.
“Have you settled in well in Hell?” Amenadiel asks.
I snap my eyes away from Dmitriy and try to focus on his father’s question. “As well as can be expected.”
He hums, his gaze dragging over my white wings and pale skin. “And the academy? Are you enjoying it?”
What is this?
Why the millions of questions?
I look to Daemon, but his face is a stony mask while he glares at Dmitriy. “Um, yes, I enjoy it.”
“Excellent,” Amenadiel says.
Lucifer lifts his hand, wiggling his finger impatiently while clearing his throat. Out of the shadows appears a waiter with a tray of tumblers filled with an amber liquid. They all help themselves to a glass. Lucifer hands me one, watching me closely as I bring it to my lips for a hesitant sip. The bitter burn warms my stomach. Amenadiel holds my gaze with his dark eyes, smirking behind his glass. There’s something not right about him. The true devil isn’t the man in the room who bears the name, but the man watching me with cold, dark eyes that are void of any warmth.
“How long did it take for your wings to turn black?” I ask him, causing Dmitriy to choke on his whisky.
Amenadiel slowly lowers his tumbler, his lips quirking in an even slower smile—a smile with a hardness to it. Next to me, Daemon stands frozen. I know he asked me to stay quiet tonight, but my curiosity can’t be leashed. Lucifer and his brother have both walked on the same green grass and climbed the same tall trees as me. They both had white wings that were brighter than snow and felt the sun heat their cheeks. I’m a stranger to their world, but they’re not a stranger to mine.
“A long, long time, sweetheart. It might not happen for you.”
The worm dangles on the hook just below the surface, squirming and wiggling. I’m circling the bait; we both know I’ll bite. “Why wouldn’t it happen for me?”
Bringing the tumbler to his lips, he winks, pulling the worm out of the water. “Curiosity leads to trouble.”
I narrow my eyes on him as I take a sip of whisky, relishing the burn and how it gives me something to focus my nerves on. Amenadiel likes to play games. I’m starting to think it’s a family trait. “And yet, life is meaningless without trouble.”
Dmitriy looks bored, and Daemon stares into the distance like a silent statue behind me. Only Lucifer is paying close attention to our exchange.
Amenadiel’s cold eyes sparkle in the glow from the fireplace. He likes to challenge me. “The trouble with trouble is that it starts out as fun.”
I raise a brow, but just as I open my mouth to speak, Lucifer cuts in, “Let’s retreat to the dining room.”
