Page 20 of Sweet Vengeance

Malachi silently did as he was told, his throat too thick to speak. Like last time, he left his wing lying across the back of the sofa.

Unlike last time, when Joy sat, she let her back rest against the chair—against his wing. She was wearing nothing but a tank top and a flimsy little jean skirt that did absolutely everything for her round ass and thick thighs. His feathers brushed against the skin of her bare shoulders and back.

They both trembled.

Joy’s breaths seemed a little fast. He saw her glance quickly at him from the corner of her eye.

“Can you feel that?” she asked, her voice a little husky. She rolled her shoulders for good measure.

“Yes,” Malachi gritted.

“Right. Okay.” Her voice was breathy. “Are you—I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No.” At least, not in the way she thought.

A different kind of hunger built up in Malachi’s stomach—the desperate hunger to be touched, in any capacity. He didn’t care if it was her fingers brushing against his, or her thigh pressed against his own; Malachi had never wanted to be touched this badly in his entire life.

“Okay, I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I feel bad.”

Malachi blinked at her. “I don’t understand.”

She waved at him with her free hand. “I can’t just—it doesn’t feel right.Itdoesn’t matter if it does nothing for you; I should still make you a plate. It’s onlyright.”

Oh. She was … she didn’t like that he wasn’t eating? That was—Malachi felt strange, suddenly. Like his skin was too big for his body.

“I’m fine.”

“What did you say you ate again? Emotions? Are my—wait—” Her mind worked furiously. “Does that mean you know what I feel at any given time?”

“I can hazard a pretty good guess, yes.”

“Oh my fucking God. You know what? No. I am not dealing with the implications of that right now. Are my emotions enough? Are you feeling properly … nourished?”

A sweet ache burned in Malachi’s chest. He rubbed it distractedly. He felt so exposed. Vulnerable. Which made no fucking sense.

“Joy,” he said, waiting until she met his eyes. “Trust me when I say this: I have never in my life felt more full.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, her scent going all soft and warm. Malachi wanted to bury his face in her throat and inhale for the rest of eternity.

She cleared her throat. “What about my blood?” she seemed to force herself to ask, her voice breathless. “If you—that is, would it be—?”

Malachi’s eyes darkened. Saliva flooded his mouth. “I really am fine, I promise.”

She stared at him. “Are you really sure?”

For a moment, Malachi couldn’t speak. He was used to going hungry. After spending so much time isolated back in hell, when he’d finally broken thePriest’s gem and escaped his control, all that emotion flooding him from the earth and the humans around him had been too much.

So, he’d isolated himself again, only using the sparse visits he made to Desmond to feed.

He was used to being hungry,allthe fucking time. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Joy he’d never felt this full. Last night had felt like the first full meal he’d had in his entire life; he could have gone at least a few more days before the hunger pangs returned.

But right now …

“Great. Decision made,” Joy said, seeming to take his silenceas an answer.

She thrust out her hand.

“What are you …?” His tongue felt too heavy for his mouth. He was sure his eyes were almost entirely black, hiding the red of his iris.

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