Page 17 of Touched By Darkness

The moon filters through the canopy of leaves overhead, and its silvery glow lights up the small, bubbling stream of water that leads uphill. It’s icy cold on my feet. “That’s... reassuring.” My voice drips with sarcasm. “I haven’t let myself think that far ahead yet. How do I even explain all of this? More importantly, how do I explain saving you?”

“Ouch, don’t mince your words.”

“You’re the one who should be worried. Daemon will be on the warpath.”

His masculine chuckle rings out in the silent night. “I can handle that pup.”

We reach a clearing, and Amenadiel waits for me to catch up. “The first thing we need to do is get you a clean dress. Don’t get me wrong, I love your tits, but you can’t return to the Academy looking like something straight out of a slasher movie.”

“We’re in Hell. I should fit right in.”

The only response I get is a slight twitch of his eyebrow.

“I’m taking you back to mine for a change of clothes.”

“I can just go straight back to Daemon’s place and change there.”

“You could, but there’s something you need to see first.”

I start to reply, but Amenadiel unfolds his wings and shoots up into the sky.

My eyes scan the clearing as a strange sensation washes over me. Amenadiel’s words come back to me:Remember when you saw the door after you locked me in here? I told you then that you wouldn’t find what you were looking for behind it. And you won’t find what you’re looking for now either.

ChapterFive

AURELIA

Iblink up at the tall, gothic-looking building in front of me with pointed tower roofs and stained windows. Two gargoyles stare back down at me with grotesque faces and long teeth. A shudder runs through me as Amenadiel steps past to unlock the front door. “Does everyone here live in houses that resemble haunted castles?”

I swear the fucking door creaks when he walks inside.

“What did you expect, Angel? A colonial-style house with a white picket fence and a sedan—renowned on the sales market for its safety features—parked in the driveway?”

I enter behind him and hug my arms around myself to ward off the cold. If I thought it was cold outside, it’s even worse in here.

With a click of his fingers, the sconces on the walls light up and flood the large entryway. I expected cobwebs, silhouettes darting for the shadowed corners, and maybe a skeleton or two, but that’s not what greets me. While the building looks dark and gloomy from the outside, its interior is warm and comforting behind closed doors. Damask wallpaper lines the walls, and the black marble flooring has been freshly polished by the looks of it. It shines, reflecting the flickering candlelight as Amenadiel guides the way toward the double staircase. Expensive oil paintings decorate the space in every direction I glance. Self-portraits of rich and powerful men. I spot one of Lucifer and another of Amenadiel and his son, Dmitriy.

I quickly avert my gaze as we reach the top and continue down a carpeted hallway.

“Through here.” Amenadiel opens a bedroom door to his left, but I draw to a halt, looking between him and the door.

“I’m not fucking you.”

“Did I say I want to fuck you? Enter the room.”

I take a hesitant step forward. “If I remember correctly, you told me you hungered for sex and blood.”

He walks in ahead, his voice ringing out. “I was bored, and it was fun to rile you up. If I wanted to fuck you, I would have done so already. Believe it or not, corrupting Eden’s angels lost its shine a long time ago. Maybe because I used to be one myself.”

The room is dark, a sliver of moonlight seeping through the crack in the drawn curtain.

Amenadiel rounds the bed and pulls them open before proceeding to light a fire in the fireplace and the sconces on the walls with a simple click of his fingers. He’s at one with his magic, using it so effortlessly that it steals my breath.

He turns around and motions behind me. “Now that the room is lit up, take a look in the mirror.”

When I turn around, my mouth falls open. I can’t believe what I see.

Amenadiel walks up to me and his cold, dark eyes lock on mine in the full-length mirror as he sweeps my raven hair away from my shoulder, his fingers grazing my olive skin.

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