I turned back to Samael. He stepped closer. “Just close your eyes and visualize your power. That’s it.”
His voice was calm and confident, and I focused every ounce of my attention on his instructions, until my power was finally behind my shields where it belonged.
Clint choked once, and then went silent. I’d killed a man. It certainly wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. But when I made a decision to end a life, I used cool, calculated logic. I didn’t lose control and disembowel people with my power.
The smell of death hit me. Clint’s blood was sticky on my skin. I leaned over and heaved.
When I’d regained control, Samael wrapped his arm around me and walked me out of the cell. He turned left instead of right, and I allowed him to steer me like a puppet as he opened a door which led to a set of concrete stairs.
He gestured for me to go ahead of him, and I climbed the long staircase until we were around the back of his tower. Then he swept me into his arms and jumped into the sky, hauling me up to his penthouse. He let me go as soon as we landed on the balcony, and I stared down at the glowing lights of the city below us.
He didn’t make me talk about it, merely took my hand, and led me inside, walking me through his rooms and into his bathroom, where he turned on the shower.
“Do you need help?”
I shook my head. I needed to be alone. He read my answer on my face and merely nodded, although his jaw tightened. Then he turned and laid a fluffy white robe on the chair close to the shower.
He walked out. I stripped my shirt off, refusing to look in the mirror. I could feel blood caked in my hair, on my cheeks, along my neck and throat. I stepped out of my shoes and peeled my jeans off, leaning down as something clinked onto the floor.
I picked the bracelet up and slipped it into the robe’s pocket. Then I stepped into the shower, letting the water pour over me. I washed my hair twice, conditioned it, then washed and conditioned it again, unable to resist the urge. I took Samael’s shower gel, breathing in the scent of cedar. I rubbed it everywhere, rinsed, lathered up again, and then sat on the floor of the shower under the stream of water and cried.
It wasn’t that I’d killed that man. It was that I’d killed him so brutally and taken such pleasure in it. Sure, he was a piece of shit, but I’d been completely out of control. What happened next time someone pissed me off and my power decided they had to die, slowly and painfully?
What if it was someone I cared about?
I couldn’t even recognize who I was anymore.
Strong arms surrounded me and I jumped. I hadn’t heard the demon come in.
“Your shower is oversized. Is it because of the wings?”
Samael ignored my rambling, picking me up and placing me on the bench. He was still wearing his clothes, expensive Italian shoes included. He crouched in front of me.
“Tell me what I can say to make it better,” he said.
Tears filled my eyes again, and his face twisted. “There’s nothing you can say,” I said. “I’m a m-monster,” I wailed.
To his credit, Samael didn’t laugh at my dramatics. Instead, he pushed my hair off my face and nuzzled at my neck.
“You’remylittle monster,” he purred. “And while you may be having some… issues with your power, it won’t always be this way.”
My lower lip trembled and I bit down on it as he pulled me to my feet. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He reached for a towel and wrapped me in it, keeping his gaze on my face. There was a ginormous bulge in his wet pants, but he cared for me tenderly. I didn’t know what to do with that. I picked up the robe and darted out of the bathroom, leaving him to strip off alone.
By the time he reappeared, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, I’d managed to pull myself together. Mostly. Samael’s robe swallowed me, and his lips twitched as he took me in, standing in his bedroom.
“You look very young,” he said. “Almost innocent.” I shot him a look and he laughed. “And there you are.”
I reached into my robe pocket. “I have something for you.”
Nerves danced through my stomach. Losing his family the way he had… I couldn’t think of anything more traumatic. I hoped he liked it. Hoped it carried good memories for him.
Samael’s eyes lit with a curiosity I hadn’t seen before. I stepped closer, pulled the bracelet from my pocket, and handed it over.
He went still. Then he lifted his head, gazing between me and the bracelet.
“Where did you get this?” His voice was hoarse.
