“If this is the case, why don’t I remember?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Your memories were taken.”
That was even more difficult to believe. The demon slowly got to his feet, his wings extended, and déjà vu swept over me. I tensed, and he let out a low curse, but seemed to come to some decision as he stalked toward me.
I curled up in the chair. This was my dream, but I’d let down my guard. If he wanted to hurt me…
“Get that look off your face.”
I trembled as I gazed up at him.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You never need to fearme. You are perhaps the only creature in all the realms who is safe from my wrath.”
I opened my mouth, but he was suddenly kneeling in front of me, his hand fisted in my hair. His expression was hard, but his eyes were… tormented.
“Rememberme, Danica. Rememberus.Please. I can’t do this without you.”
His voice was pure agony, and something twisted deep in my chest. I raised my own hand without meaning to, cupping his cheek as he had mine.
He seemed to come to some decision, because his mouth was suddenly caressing my neck. I tensed, but he kissed me so gently, with such tenderness, my eyes burned.
He moved to my lips, and I opened for him, shuddering, and his mouth teased mine, achingly slow, as if we had all the time in the worlds. And then our kiss deepened, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and the déjà vu struck again. I couldn’t help but kiss him back, my mouth conforming to his, my hands rising to clench in his hair.
I felt as if I’d kissed him hundreds of times before. It was this kiss–more than any story he could tell me–that made me want to believe him. If only so I could feel his mouth on mine some more.
He dragged his mouth away and pressed it to the corner of my lips, then kissed his way up my cheek. His whole body shuddered, and he buried his face in my hair.
“Remember, little witch.”
* * *
DANICA
I woke, hopelessly aroused.
And the memory slammed into me.
I stood, frozen, unable to move. There was a body on the ground below me, and I was straining, doing everything I could to break the ward. If I could just move the knife…
Blood dripped from my nose, and the ward seemed to ‘pop’ as it broke. Adrenaline made my muscles tremble, and my vision narrowed as I twisted toward the door.
A high demon blocked my only exit. A high demon whoburnedwith power and fury.
Despite my terror, my gaze couldn’t help but sweep over him, noting every inch of his hard body, from his blue-black hair to his blazing silver eyes and down along the hard plane of his chest.
I’d had that chest pressed against me. I’d slammed my hands into it in fury, clutched at his shirt in need, pressed my head to his heart, just to hear it beat.
I knew it, deep in my bones.
“Well, this is interesting.” I flinched at the promise of death in his voice. His gaze shifted to the demon on the floor, his extremities already ash. The older demons were like that when they died, as if their body belonged only to the underworld, and when they were done using it, the underworld snatched it back.
“I didn’t kill him,” I blurted out, and Samael shifted his gaze back to me, scanning me from head to toe. His gaze lingered on my face, and I wiped at the blood smeared above my lip.
“You broke my ward,” he mused. I didn’t know how he could make such inane words sound like a death threat, but my hand tightened on my knife. At the very least, I could go out fighting.
“It wasn’t easy,” I admitted. “Listen, I think I have some explaining to do. This isn’t what it looks like.”
