She pointed the little black fob and mashed a button.
Beep-beep.
An older, white SUV’s blinkers shone through the curtain of falling rain.
Phoebe reached toward the driver’s side door handle, but I shoved myself in-between. “Allow me, please.” I popped open the door.
Her eyes held a hint of amusement. “Why, thank you ever so much, Mr. Hellspawn. I dunno if I would’ve been able to open it myself without your help.” She fluttered her eyelashes, and a dimple in her cheek appeared.
“Sassy thing, aren’t you?” Grinning with delight, I ushered her into the shelter of the vehicle.
“My dad used to say I was the queen of talking back to him.” After settling herself into the worn leather seat, she strapped the seatbelt across her chest then pushed the ignition button. The vehicle’s engine purred.
Still standing between her and the open door, I leaned down. “I like your sass.” I quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek and used my power to evaporate the moisture from her clothes.
She reflexively touched the spot I’d kissed, searching my face. Something shone from the depths of her eyes. Confusion? Surprise? Hope?
I trotted to the passenger’s side and got in.
Once I closed the door, I wrang the moisture from my own clothing and the seat.
Phoebe opened her mouth then shook her head and focused on the steering the car down the narrow dirt road.
“So,” she said while tilting the rearview mirror. “Do you have a favorite place around here to visit, somewhere we can talk?” On the steering wheel were several buttons. She pressed one until she seemed satisfied with the song coming through the speakers. “I’d prefer it to be public, if you don’t mind, if you can avoid making everyone go crazy and killing one another.”
“I can, but why? We’re alone right now, and I’m behaving myself.” Her profile, just as lovely as looking straight into her face, drew my stare. Her nose, with a little bump in the middle, was neither too long nor too short. High cheekbones and a cute chin rounded out her bone structure. “And no, I have no favorite place. I don’t go out in public much unless my work requires it. Plus, why would I want to get out and rub elbows with the people who’d sooner kill me than talk to me courtesy of my father’s curse?”
“Humans aren’t responsible for what he did to you.” Out of her periphery, she looked me over while switching her attention back and forth from the road. “That would’ve been, what? A hundred thousand years ago?” She raised her eyebrows and laughed. “I can’t wrap my head around this.” Flapping her hand as if wiping away an invisible cobweb, she shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll pick a place to go.” She adjusted the volume of the radio to a few decibels lower. The display showed the current song as “Layers of Time” by Lacuna Coil.
“Besides. It’s not you in particular I’m worried about, but your evil cohorts. Who is this Samael guy? He actually seemed...” A soft snicker blew from her lips. “Decent.”
“He used to be the Angel of Death.” I ran a finger over the frame of the sunglasses hanging from the front of my shirt and watched rolling fields slip past. “Now, he’s more of an enforcer, I guess.”
“Oh, but of course, because it makes perfect sense.” Her tone mocked. “Like everything else that’s happened recently.”
The rain slackened and the clouds thinned, letting rays of sunlight filter through and reflect on the puddles of water on the sides of the road.
She kept one hand on the steering wheel and used the other to sweep her now dry hair from her neck.
An angry, red welt marred the side of her throat, and my stomach dropped to my toes.
Fucking Malachi.I wanted to wipe away the injury and everything that had happened so far.
I reached out an index finger, not quite touching her skin. “Does the burn hurt?”
When she saw where I pointed, she gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not too bad. Feels like a carpet burn.”
She drove the car along a winding road, which turned to smooth pavement.
The rolling hills in the distance disappeared, replaced with tall trees in the beginnings of showy fall foliage winding along the path. The leafy behemoths—maples and oaks—towered over the road. Moisture dripped from their leaves onto the car as we passed.
I placed my hand on her neck, letting my thumb stroke the upraised welt. She didn’t flinch and she didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry.” Transferring a wisp of ether from my hand to her flesh, I forced it to heal instead of destroy.
Similar to the night Brian had cut her lips with his forced kiss, the ether didn’t want to obey. The sensation of bending it to my will was like shaping oil into a ball. Impossible, yet I kept at it until I forced it to obey. This was the second time I’d used it to heal Phoebe, and I found the sensation didn’t sicken me as much as I thought it would.
“Oh,” she gasped, jerking a hand to touch her neck. Pulling into a parking spot, she killed the engine then narrowed those innocent eyes on me. “Did you heal it?”
