What if he’d been shot?

  She felt she should go back to help him. He’d put his life at risk to save hers and it only seemed fair to return the favor.

  They were partners.

  She moved against the surging crowd and when she reached the stairs and started heading up, a strong hand closed around her wrist and held her back. She whirled around in a panic, relieved to see Smith.

  “I thought you might have gotten shot.”

  “I did.”

  Before she could ask any more questions, he pulled her up tight against his body, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders as they were jostled by the fleeing crowd.

  If he’d been shot, he didn’t show it.

  She put her arms around his waist and held on to him, delighting in how safe he made her feel.

  This was where she belonged.

  The thought was unexpected, but true. She wanted to be with Smith, no matter what he was… or wasn’t.

  They flowed out towards the parking lot with the crowd. It was much easier to move with the wave than trying to fight against it.

  “Do you think he’s following us?” she wondered.

  “I’d bet on it,” Smith said. “But first he has to find us.”

  Screams rang out in the distance, followed by gunshots.

  “Run!” Smith led her out of the crowd and through the parking lot, over to his sporty, red Corvette.

  Jillian couldn’t do it.

  She couldn’t ride in that car. It was too fast. Too dangerous.

  What was the crash safety test rating?

  How would the frame hold up in a head-on collision?

  What about fires?

  “Get in,” Smith said, as he unlocked the doors.

  “I can’t ride in this.” Her stomach flipped and sheer fright had her frozen.

  She saw a vision of herself crashing in the car, trapped inside, surrounded by flames and smoke.

  She didn’t want to die like that.

  The loud crack of gunshots made her jump in surprise.

  Jonathon was running across the parking lot, breaking up the screaming crowd, headed straight in their direction.

  “Get in!” Smith shouted at her over the roof of the car.

  Jillian had a split second to make a decision.

  Either get in that racy car, or stay out in the parking lot and get shot.

  The death trap posed better odds for survival.

  She threw open the car door and slid down into the leather bucket seat.

  Oh, God.

  She was going to die.

  Jillian squeezed her eyes shut as the car peeled out of the parking lot. They swerved from side to side as Smith steered them onto the street and steadily increased their speed, weaving around whatever was in their way.

  She opened her eyes and bright headlights came at them in a blur.

  He was going the wrong way!

  She shrieked as they almost collided with a large truck head-on before he swerved to miss it. More cars kept coming at them, too fast for her to comprehend. Jillian held her eyes closed and gripped the edges of her seat, holding on tight.

  He was driving too fast.

  At the same time, she was glad that he was speeding. She wanted to put some good distance between her and the museum.

  And Jonathon.

  The murdering bastard. He’d admitted to killing her grandparents by tampering with their car’s brakes. That was exactly what the police had found in the investigation, and with no signs of foul play, their death had been classified as an accident, not a homicide.

  Jillian still had no proof.

  It was her word against Jonathon’s, and that hadn’t gone so well for her in the past. The museum’s entire Board of Directors had taken Jonathon’s word over her unfounded accusations.

  After tonight, they might change their minds.

  The car suddenly swerved to the left, hopefully turning down a street where they were going the right way this time. She grabbed hold of the armrest to keep from flying around inside the car.

  When their speed slowed she opened her eyes and looked over at Smith. His brows were drawn together in concentration, his eyes focused on the road.

  “You should put on your seatbelt.” He down-shifted and steered around another corner, tossing her around in the seat.

  The ride might be a little rough, but he handled the vehicle with practiced skill.

  Seatbelt.

  How had she forgotten to put it on? It was normally the first thing Jillian did when she got into a car. Tonight, she had a lot of distractions.

  “Aren’t you going to wear one?” she asked as she drew the strap across her chest and secured the buckle.

  He didn’t seem to be afraid of anything. Fights. Bullets. Head-on traffic. Jillian had to work up a ton of courage just to leave her house on some days.

  “I don’t need seatbelts.” He spared a glance at her, his blue eyes stormy and fierce, before looking back at the road.

  “Because you aren’t human,” she said, remembering where they’d left the conversation. “Does that mean you can’t die?”

  “I can’t die from traditional methods—car crashes, guns, knives, fire, drowning—none of those things.”

  Jillian swallowed nervously. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. She eyed her clutch on the floorboard at her feet. She could use a few of her pills, her level of anxiety was through the roof, but she thought better of it. The pills made her cloudy, dazed, and slowed her down.

  She needed to keep her sharp edge if she was going to make it through this alive.

  “Who was that man back at the museum?”

  Smith sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Someone very dangerous.”

  “I picked up on that,” she scoffed, laughing. “He has the same powers you do. Are you the same?”

  “We are not the same,” Smith said, emphatic. “Asmodeus gets his powers from the devil through a link created by black magic. I had my powers restored because I agreed to help the Archangel Gabriel by keeping the rings away from Lucifer.”

  “Then what does that make you?”

  His jaw clenched tight. Eventually he said, “I’m an angel.”

  “Get out!” Her reaction came before she could stop it.

  Honestly, she didn’t know what else to say.

  “An angel?” she asked.

  “A fallen angel, to be exact.” Smith glanced over to gauge her reaction. “I lost my wings for coming to Earth and taking wives.”

  Jillian’s mouth fell open.

  She didn’t quite know where to take things from here. She might not know much about angels, but she had a feeling one had to do something pretty naughty to get thrown out of Heaven.

  She’d read the story of the fallen angels in the Bible.

  When man began to multiply on the face of the land and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of man were attractive. And they took as their wives any they chose.

  She was one of those daughters.

  “Are you serious?” she asked, though she believed every word.

  He couldn’t be lying. Not with those powers she’d seen, and the mind control thing.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I’m here to help you.”

  “Like a Guardian angel?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Are you helping me because you want to get your wings back?”

  ***

  Her innocent question hit him in the chest like a Mack truck. Kyriel was rendered speechless.

  He couldn’t tell her the truth.

  She already didn’t trust him, and if he told her he’d intentionally slept with her to get her pregnant, thereby saving her from a fate worse than death, she’d never forgive him.

  But it hadn’t all been a lie. He’d developed honest feelings for her. Feelings he didn’t know how to deal with because he’d never had them before. He’d loved many women for a short time, but he’d always been glad to see them go while he moved on to the next.

  It wasn’t like that with Jillian. He couldn’t get enough of her, but how did he convince her what to believe when he didn’t even know?

  “Is Smith your real name?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “What is it?”

  “My last butler’s name.”

  She shot him an irritated look. “What is your real name?”

  “Kyriel.”

  He released a deep sigh. He’d wanted to keep his true identity a secret, but now that it was out, he felt relieved.

  Relaxed.

  Like he could be himself.

  It was a good feeling.

  “Kyriel,” she said his name.

  The sound of it coming from Jillian sent tingles of pleasure rippling through him. He liked that, and couldn’t wait to make her scream his name when he made love to her again.

  He steered the car around another corner and she grabbed onto the door. “Can’t you be more careful driving?”

  “I am being careful.” He relaxed into a playful smile. “I’m not known to crash.”

  Kyriel had been driving since the invention of the automobile and he’d never wrecked. Not once.

  “I thought you might have some special power to transport yourself wherever you want to go.”

  “I do, but I like driving.”

  He looked over at her, and his gaze was drawn to her round shoulders, and further down to her breasts straining against the front of her low-cut gown. The sequins sparkled in the dim light from the dash.

  He licked his lips as he thought about sucking her nipples until she moaned from the pleasure. He went hard in an instant and, instead of staring at her exposed thigh, he had to force his gaze back to the road before he ruined his no-crash record and slammed them into a wall.

  “Where is the ring?” He tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

  “I hid it somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “Am I supposed to trust you because you’re an angel?” Her look was skeptical.

  “No,” he answered. “You should trust me because we’re partners.”

  After a long moment of silence, he won out.

  “It’s in a locker at the airport.”

  “Smart girl,” he said, smiling.

  Jillian made a great partner. He was the one who intended to lie, cheat, and steal to get what we wanted.

  But Jillian also made him want to be a better man. One she deserved. Maybe she was the angel instead, sent to save him.

  From himself.

  Chapter 31

  Safely back at The Plaza, Jillian and Kyriel were once again locked away in a room together.

  Naked.

  In bed.

  Jillian supposed she should be more concerned by all that Kyriel had revealed about his being a fallen angel, and about his nemesis, Asmodeus, but she couldn’t help the way he made her feel.

  She’d always known there was something different about Kyriel, something special, and she’d fallen in love with him because of it.

  The angel part didn’t matter.

  Not tonight.

  If the end of the world was coming, Jillian wanted to spend the rest of her time with Kyriel.

  She let her eyes fall closed as the feel of his warm hands and wet mouth sent warming shivers all through her body. Being like this with Kyriel, in his strong hands, at the mercy of his expert touch, was a delight she gladly surrendered to. He had taught her to stop worrying and just feel.

  In his arms she was free.

  His mouth and hands were everywhere at once until no part of her was left untouched. The erotic assault enflamed her passion, alighting her senses with such overwhelming pleasure she thought she might come right out of her skin. She squirmed and writhed beneath his heated touch, unable to remain still.

  The warm pressure of his lips blazed a trail of ecstasy over her hips, moving up to her breasts, where he sucked and licked at her nipples until they both hardened to aching peaks. A long, keening moan escaped her. She couldn’t hold it back.

  He was incredible.

  Kyriel laughed, a rumbling sound low and deep in his chest, as if he knew the brand of exquisite, agonizing torture he was inflicting upon her and it pleased him.

  Jillian could take no more. She wanted her angel. Needed to feel him inside of her.

  His mouth covered hers in a hungry kiss. She loved the taste of Kyriel, his spicy smell, the warmth of his skin.

  She parted her lips to the probing entrance of his tongue and pulled him down on top of her, caressing her hands over the length of his back.

  She never wanted this to end. Jillian wasn’t just in love with Kyriel, she was crazy about him, and knew she’d never want for another.

  ***

  Kyriel kissed Jillian until his bruised lips ached from the burning pleasure. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her unique scent, sweet, musky. She was so soft and welcoming, and he wanted to bury his hard, aching shaft in the warm depths of her body. Lose himself to the wild fury of need he had for this amazing woman.

  He already was lost.

  Jillian was a taste he had come to crave and, needing to taste more of her, he lifted her legs over his shoulders and grasped the twin mounds of her bottom in his hands to bring her glistening sex to his mouth. He furiously licked and suckled her clit until she grasped his arms and dug her nails into his flesh, her cries and moans unintelligible.

  “Kyriel!” she screamed, her legs shaking and trembling.

  How he loved hearing her scream his name with reckless abandon.

  His real name.

  He slipped his finger inside her silken crevice and stroked her to a frenzied peak. When her little pants and moans came faster, turning desperate, he swiftly removed the rest of his clothes and slid up along her body.

  He groaned as he sank into herheat, then drew back and knew the exciting pleasure of entering her again, and again, until he no longer knew where he ended and she began.

  ***

  Jillian relished the incredible feel of his hard length moving inside her, so big, but so gentle. He held her close, his hard, muscled chest against her breasts, his hips grinding against her as he thrust into her with long, measured strokes. The pleasure of his lovemaking flooded her with uncontrollable joy.

  For once, her mind was clear of everything. No obsession with order and symmetry. No compulsion to arrange things in perfect harmony. No fear that it would all fall apart.

  All she knew was the powerful man straining above her, giving her pleasure unlike any she had known before.

  She dug her fingers into the thick muscles of his back as he plunged deeper, his frenzied thrusts devastating and ruthless, making her cry out in surprise and wonder.

  She trembled with need, moving her hips to keep pace with his fierce rhythm, her breaths coming in short pants. His large hands closed over her backside, lifting her, urging her on. That thrilling, pulsing heat arose, spiraling through every part of her body, and Jillian gave herself up to the passion.

  “Kyriel, I can’t wait,” she cried, as tiny bursts of pleasure exploded from the soft core of her body. “I can’t stop it!”

  “Give it to me, beautiful girl,” his words ended on a pleasured groan as he drove deep and hard inside her. “Give it all to me.”

  Jillian shook all over. Her body was pure sensation. One more thrust from him and she would come.

  He gave it to her and she whirled out of control, the intensity of her climax carrying her to a dazzling height of ecstasy where she burst into a thousand pieces, utterly losing herself to a blissful rapture.

  ***

  Kyriel felt Jillian clamp down around him, moaning as she reached her pleasure. He braced his hands on the bed, riding her hard and fast towards his own building finish. His climax slammed into him with such a violent force, the stunning pleasure left him shuddering and groaning as he found his release deep inside her warmth.

  He remained joined with her for long moments after the bliss faded. Their labored breaths mingled. Their hearts beat against their chests to the same rhythm. Kyriel finally knew what it felt like to become one with another person.

  This was love.

  Kyriel was torn.

  How would he leave her behind once he got his wings back?

  He couldn’t.

  On the other hand, how could he think to give up his redemption for a woman?

  He wouldn’t.

  But Jillian wasn’t just a woman. She was the woman. The one he’d prayed for and dreamed about through his long, lonely centuries. Why had God sent her to him now? Why did the woman he’d found love with have to be the obstacle to his redemption?

  “Kyriel, are you all right?” Jillian’s soft voice broke into his conflicted thoughts.

  He eased off her and rolled onto his back, then pulled her into his arms. “I’m great,” he lied.

  Kyriel had to decide what he wanted more.

  Love, or redemption.

  ***

  The time for taking orders from someone else was through. Jonathon knew what was expected. He knew what had to be done, and how to achieve the goal.

  He waited in his silent car, experiencing a strange, excited kind of calm. Perhaps his patient mood was due to the fact that he was about to advance his position another notch.

  All the way to the top.

  Once he held all three rings, he would give the orders. The others would bow to his wishes. Armies would advance on his command. Countries would honor his name. All he desired was within his grasp and, soon, he would answer to no one.

  That was how it should be.

  Jonathon knew Lucifer wanted him to be the one to set him free. It was him the Dark Lord had chosen. Of course, only Jonathon understood this, so it was no use trying to convince the Head of the Order to give up the sapphire. He’d never part with the ring. He thought it gave him power. The arrogant man thought he was the one Lucifer had chosen, but he was wrong.

  Tonight, Jonathon would show him exactly how wrong.

  He shifted his gaze from the dark, quiet house outside to the black sword resting on the passenger seat of his car. It spoke to him. It told him things. Secret things. It wanted to be used.