Dragon's Storm (Legion Of Angels #4)(15)

“How do you know that’s not from my adventure this morning in the Wilds.”

Nero gave me a hard look. He knew. It was impossible to lie to him. Every move I made, every glance, every blink, every shift of my body was a dead giveaway. That, plus he could read my mind.

“Ok, fine,” I admitted. “It was from my fight with Colonel Fireswift.”

“And his son.”

“Yes, Jace was there too. The Colonel likes to pit us against each other.” I frowned. “Jace isn’t all bad, though. We train just fine together when his father isn’t around.”

“You should find another training partner.”

“Well, there was this one guy. Strong, powerful, lethal as all hell, easy on the eyes too. Nice wings.” I brushed my fingers against the tip of his wings. “But then he got himself tied up in angel business. I’m lonely, you see. I need someone to keep me warm during these cold winter nights.” I was trying hard to keep my face serious, but a smirk was pulling on my lips.

Nero leaned over and took my lower lip between his teeth, drawing it out slowly. “You shouldn’t provoke me, Pandora.”

My heart thumped against my chest. “Oh, but it’s so much fun. Your reaction always makes it worth my while.”

“I’m going to make you forget all about your jokes. And about your friend.”

His look was dark, his voice ruthlessly sensual. He was so close—and yet so far away. He took my hand and flipped it over. His thumb massaged slow, deep circles into the inside of my wrist. He was hardly touching me, and my heart was threatening to explode out of my chest. I was so doomed.

Nero dipped his head, his mouth stopping only inches from mine. “There won’t be a single word on your lips but my name.”

I snorted. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

His mouth swooped down on mine and he drew me into a deep, all-consuming kiss that overrode all logical thought. There was nothing but the two of us—and that kiss. My hands clawed at his back, trying to pull him in closer. He didn’t budge. His hands didn’t even touch me. His lips trailed my jaw, dipping to my neck. Nero took my hand in his and kissed the top with gentlemanly grace. Then he flipped it over and kissed the underside of my wrist. Each touch of his lips was a burning brand in my skin, devouring me. It was the most sensual kiss I’d ever experienced, and I wanted more.

His fangs brushed against my neck, so lightly that they didn’t break the skin. My blood surged beneath the surface. Why wasn’t he biting me?

My lips parted, a soft moan escaping them. “Nero.”

He looked up, hitting me with a deliciously dark smile. “There it is.”

He grabbed my hips roughly, turning me around. My palms slammed down on the countertop. His chest was hard against my back, his breath hot against my neck. He exhaled slowly, then his fangs sank into me. Liquid fire pierced my skin, cascading through my veins, drowning me in a firestorm of pleasure.

I moaned in protest when his mouth lifted from my neck.

“Leda.” His eyes were wide, dilated.

I turned around, clawing at him in sheer desperation, drawing him closer, a silent demand for him to continue drinking from me.

“I have to stop now, or I won’t be able to,” he whispered against my lips.

His voice rumbled, a sign that he was at the verge of losing control. Like standing at the edge of civilization, just one more step would send him tumbling into the wilderness. I wanted him to tumble. I wanted him to lose all control. And to take me with him.

He kissed me, his tongue sliding across my extended fangs. “Drink from me.”

I dipped my mouth to his neck, kissing the skin softly once before sinking in. His blood flooded into my mouth, as sweet as the gods’ Nectar—and just as addictive. I pulled him hard against me, drinking deeper. He groaned in approval.

I can hear you two making out down there, an amused voice chimed inside my head. Damiel.

I pulled away from Nero, dizzily plopping onto one of the barstools.

“I am going to kill him,” Nero growled.

I touched his face. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” And he looked serious.

“Come on,” I said, sliding off the stool. “Let’s go check on your dad.”





6





The World of Angels





Nero and I took the staircase up. Each step was made of glass. Transparent, almost invisible, they seemed to float up to the next floor, where Damiel was staying in his ‘gilded cage’, as he liked to call it. And he was indeed staying in a very luxurious prison.

The entire floor was a single room with majestic ceilings so high and vast that two teams of angels could comfortably play a game of football in the air. Large windows looked out on the city. Like downstairs, they were made of enchanted glass. Damiel could see out, but no one outside could see in. It was an essential precaution since most of the world, the Legion included, thought Damiel had died long ago.

We passed through the magic barrier that kept Damiel inside the open apartment. It also kept everyone out except for Nero, Captain Somerset, and me. The barrier was completely invisible. Only the low hum of the Magitech generator powering it betrayed its presence.

Damiel stood behind the cooking island of the open kitchen, a spatula in his hand. At first glance, he looked a lot like Nero. He had the same hair as his son, if not a bit more bronze than caramel. And his eyes were blue instead of green. But other than that, the two angels might have been twins. They had the same body type: hard, flexible muscle filling out a set of wide shoulders and a chest cutting down into a narrow V waistline. Their hair was cut short with a little extra length in front. They both wore the same stern expression on their faces—especially when they looked at each other. And they both looked the same age, forever frozen at twenty, when they’d drunk the gods’ Nectar for the first time.