Wicked Kiss

“Which is kind of ridiculous. I’d all but gotten used to it happening to boys. Why should a girl be any different? Maybe I’m the sexist one here.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t hesitate. Not even a second.”

“Does that bother you?”

“A little,” I admitted, but held his gaze. “Are there a lot of female angels?”

“Is that what she is? I didn’t see the imprint.”

I nodded. Since angels and demons didn’t have actual wings here in the human world—apparently such things were not physical as much as they were metaphysical—they did retain the mark of such wings. It looked like a large tattoo that stretched across their backs and down their sides. Angel wings were pale with delicate, feathery lines. Demon wings were bold and black and webbed. It was the only way to tell them apart at a glance.

“There are an equal number of male and female angels,” he said.

“Equal. Everything’s equal,” I grumbled. “Got to keep the balance on the universal teeter-totter, don’t you?”

He studied my face. “I know you’re upset.”

I didn’t break our eye contact. “Did you really tell Roth he could kill me if I screw up?”

He didn’t speak for a moment. “No.”

The demon had said it with such certainty, there had to be more to this. I needed to know the truth. “Then what did you say that gave him that idea?”

His gaze grew fiercer. “You can’t let what happened earlier with that boy ever happen again. It’s too dangerous, Samantha.”

It was so cold tonight—or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just me and my soulless side effects. My coat wasn’t thick enough to keep me warm. The tights I wore under my skirt were too thin. I shivered. “That’s the real reason you’ve stayed away from me this week. So I wouldn’t be tempted to kiss you again. So I wouldn’t hurt you again.”

His vivid blue eyes burned into mine. “You didn’t hurt me the first time.”

“But I could next time.”

“We don’t know that for sure.” He wrenched his gaze away from me, his expression shadowing. “I kept my distance because I needed to know if this pull I feel toward you was because of what you are. If this soul inside me has been a magnet drawing me closer to you since the first moment we met.”

It was what I’d also feared. That this—this overpowering thing I felt for Bishop wasn’t real. That it was just another side effect, like me being cold and hungry all the time. All because he had a soul and I longed for it. “And?”

His brows drew together. “Inconclusive. I’ll know for sure when we get your soul back.”

My heart pounded like a wild thing in my chest. “You think it’ll be that simple? Find Stephen, find my soul, pop it back in like a battery pack? Snap, Samantha’s back to normal and you won’t feel so weird around me?”

“Nothing important is ever that simple.” He searched my face. “Let me do my job. Let me find him. And then we’ll figure everything else out.”

I pushed a hand through my hair, tugging on a tangle, and realized I was literally trembling. “Quite honestly? Roth is right. Even if you purge the city of every single other gray, I’m still here. That means the barrier stays right where it is and you’re stuck here.”

“It’s fine.” Bishop rubbed his fingers over his temples, his frown deepening. “All is fine. All will be fine. I swear it will. Nothing to worry about. Nothing, nothing at all.”

There was a worrisome edge of madness to his voice, something I remembered all too well from before. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Everything’s fantastic.” When he laughed, it had a sharp, insane edge to it.

He wasn’t okay. Far from it. “You said you’d found alternate ways of dealing with the crazy when it landed. How exactly is that? Deep breathing? Meditation?”

“Something like that.”

“Care to expand?”

“Not really.”

His insistence on always being evasive made me crazy. “Nothing’s really changed, has it? You don’t tell me anything.”

“I tell you what you need to know. But some things...you don’t want to know.”

I flinched. “I thought we were in this together. Like a team. The others don’t know the secret about me....”

“And you are never to tell them.” He grabbed my shoulders tightly as if what I’d said had alarmed him. The craziness in his eyes intensified. “You hear me? None of them can ever know about your birth parents.”

“I hear you. Relax.” I reached down and grabbed his hand. Electricity sparked between us and the insanity began to ease from his expression.

Skin to skin. Touching him only spiked my hunger, but it was essential—at least right now—for him to calm down.

The others knew I could do this, just like I could see the searchlights. But they didn’t know the whole truth like Bishop did.

“Better?” I asked.

“Much.” He nodded, entwining our fingers together for a moment that was equal parts blissful and torturous before he reluctantly let go. “I know you’re frustrated by some of the things I do, but you have to trust me.”

“I want to...”

“But?”

My throat tightened as I locked gazes with him. “How can I trust somebody who won’t even tell me his real name?”

“My name is Bishop.”

“It wasn’t always.”

“No. Not always.” He looked into my eyes and for the briefest moment I was certain he was going to tell me. Then something shuttered there, keeping me out when I only wanted in.

Don’t get me wrong, I liked his name. I loved his name, really. It was right and it suited him. But it wasn’t real. It was something made up, like an actor in Hollywood who wanted to leave his humble beginnings far behind.

If anything, I felt uneasier than I had before our private talk. I followed him wordlessly back to the dark alley to find Roth hovering over the angel while still holding the knife. The way he watched her was predatory.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

“She’s so hot. Too bad she’s an angel.” He gave me a cold grin. “I checked under her sweater.”

A sudden flash of fury turned my vision red. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you myself.”