Page 46 of Touched By Darkness

Amenadiel pushes off the doorframe and enters my room. With his hands in his pockets, he takes in the strewn clothes on the floor, then the open book on my lap.

Intrigued, he walks up to me, shuts the book, and reads the title. “Are you curious about Hell, little angel?”

I open my mouth to speak, but I’m cut off when his eyes flick up from the book.

“Or are you curious about me?”

“I’m not curious about you,” I bite out.

His lips spread into a smile, and I wonder if he’s aware of his close proximity or the fact that his fingers are still on the book.

“Ask me questions and I’ll answer.”

I slide the book out from beneath his touch and hug it close to my chest. “How long did it take you to master your powers?”

“A long time.”

“That’s not an answer.”

His heavy feet sound on the hardwood floor as he walks up to the fire and leans with his hands on the fireplace. “If you want to embrace your powers, you need to give in to the darkness.”

“I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough.”

When he turns, a bitter smile—the kind of smile that turns blood to ice—graces his lips like an intruder in the night. “Luckily for you, I come prepared.”

I watch him disappear out the door before returning with a bound and gagged naked human man.

He tosses him onto the bed like he weighs nothing. “The night is young, and so is this man. I trust you’ll have fun, angel.”

My incisors throb at the sound of the human’s fearful whimpers and the scent of his blood from a cut above his eyebrow. “Did you retrieve him from the human world?”

“Of course. Only the best for my protégé.” Then he turns for the door, but before he leaves, he swings back around. “Oh, and one last thing. You’re not allowed to kill him.”

I look back down at the terrified human when the door shuts with a soft click. The thrum of his pulse beats erratically beneath his pale skin, and his bottom lip, wet with tears, trembles.

It’s not lost on me that Amenadiel brought me a gift. This is the equivalent of a father gifting his daughter a doll for her birthday.

But Amenadiel is not my father, and it’s not my birthday. And this man is not a doll.

Although he could just as well be.

My eyes cloud over with a red mist at the sound of his pathetic pleas when I stroke my fingers over his stubbly cheek. He shouldn’t show his fear so openly; it only makes me want to hurt him more.

To claw him open with my nails.

Explore his insides.

My sharp incisors elongate, glinting in the dim glow of the fireplace. “I’ll look after you, I promise.”

ChapterEleven

DARIANA

Ithrow open the door to the living room and enter with a dramatic flair. “I deserve a reward for my performance.”

Daemon lifts his head off the couch, then looks at me from beneath his dark lashes. That cold, detached look in his eyes could scare off a grown man, but I’ve known Daemon my whole life. He’s all bark and no bite. At least where I’m concerned.

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