Iniquity (The Premonition, #5)(3)

“Yer love is ruthless,” he breathes against my cheek. “Hush, now. We can argue about it later. I was wrong ta tink ye’re like Persephone,” he admits as he explains. “Dat portrait blinded me ta whah ye are. Dere is another name dat suits ye better.” He turns me around so that he can look into my eyes. His green eyes shine with ancient fire. “Ye’ve begun a havoc in Sheol. ’Tis yer face,” he uses his thumb to rub my cheek tenderly. “Beauty wi’ grace. ’Tis a face worthy of launching a tousand ships. Ye’re na Persephone atall ta da ones dat hunt ye now...ye’re Helen.”

“What?” my voice shakes as I whisper.

“’Twas Finn who learned da truth—Molly really. She has developed a taste for Fallen. She attracts dem with a certain skill. ’Tis her air of innocence dat draws dem in. ’Tis like milk and honey ta dem. She stumbled across quite an interesting bird.”

“Interesting how?” I ask.

“One dat knew a great deal about ye.” His eyes are a slow burn as he watches me. “’Twas Finn dat made him elaborate on whah he knew.”

“Which is?” I murmur, feeling all the blood draining away from my cheeks.

“We were wrong when we tought dat ye’re da only hybrid human-angel.”

“I know I’m not the only one—there’s Russell...”

He slowly shakes his head at me. “I’m na speaking of da other. Sheol has found a way ta create deir own version of yer kind...and dey want ye ta meet him. Ye’re very special, Genevieve, special in that ye’re still the only one—da only female.”

“How can you be sure your source wasn’t lying?” The need to deny what he’s telling me is so strong that I can taste the fear on my tongue.

“Our source was interrogated by Finn. He told Finn anyting he wanted ta know just for the pleasure of his touch.”

“What does this mean?” I ask as my hands rest against his chest for support. I feel like my legs might give out on me at any moment. “What do they want?”

“Yer enemies, da Fallen, have decided dat ye’re worth a war. Dey’re gathering da means ta wage dat war. Every demon is now deciding whether dey’ll play a part.”

“And what part do you intend to play?” I ask.

His neck bends and his lips hover inches from mine. “The part that allows us ta survive, of course. Da Fallen would like ta introduce ye ta deir spawn. Dat does na fit inta me plans.”

“What if the price becomes too high,” I wonder aloud, “for your plans?”

“Ye have me marrow in yer bones, mo chroí. And I’ve yers. I will lay down me life ta protect ye,” he promises. “We have ta strike a truce. I can na fight ye and dem, too.”

“I don’t trust you. There can be no truce.”

“I’ll love ye in yer dreams until ye do,” he says in a husky voice. “’Tis yers ta decide. Do I have ye in da day or in da night? Either way, I will have ye.”

Brennus lowers his head then, kissing me roughly and causing an ache for him to spread inside of me. His hands entwine in my hair, keeping my lips to his. I shiver at the craving for him he generates with his intoxicating kisses. Stroking my hair, he murmurs against my lips, “I love ye, Genevieve. I’ll protect ye from yer nightmares.”

My twisting sense of fate abruptly ends when Reed’s voice whispers, “Evie,” breaking the fever growing within me.

“Evie...love?” Reed says again, less distant. My eyes flutter open to find Reed reclining next to me on our bed in our room. “Good morning,” he murmurs, brushing his lips to mine, but it’s not Reed that I taste on my tongue...it’s Brennus.





Stay wi’ me, Genevieve... I hear Brennus’ deep voice whisper in my mind before it fades away and is gone.

The darkness between my heart and my soul swells, pushing them further apart, making room for Brennus. I’m the light to his darkness. There’s no escape; he’s a part of me. I close my eyes. Pick a side, demon, I inwardly scold, speaking silently to my own black heart. His kiss was sweet like cinnamon...

My lips move over Reed’s now, and as I grow more awake, so too does the desire for the one who has me in his arms, my aspire. Light and smooth he teases; it increases the tension that coils within me for him. It warms me, teaching my skin by touch about love. I breathe him in.

The fire inside stirs, stokes, and then burns me. I open my eyes to see perfect green ones above me. Pleasure spreads; it finds new places I hadn’t known existed. Gravity begins to win; it pulls me to Reed with magnetic stirrings of yearning. I want to fade into him, fit myself under his skin.

My fingertips reach up behind his ear, entangling in his dark brown hair, tussling it as I draw him closer to me. Our lips part to taste one another. I groan softly. Reed reacts; his wings unfold violently from him with a snap. The darkest gray feathers splay out thrillingly behind him. His arm goes behind me, pulling me nearer as my legs wrap around him. He lifts his lips from mine. Our cheeks brush against one another’s. The sensation of it vibrates through me, reaching that dark place in my heart. I feel the darkness retreat for a moment before it fights back, surging forward with the blackest desire.

My fingernails tense on Reed’s scalp. The white sheet around me is unbearably constricting. My bare leg slips beneath the sheet to rub against Reed’s skin. All of a sudden, I feel a desperate ache to consume him. I want to make Reed bleed. I want to make him bleed for me—only for me. My fingers shift in his hair, sliding to the back of his neck. The sharpest points of my teeth follow the column of his throat downward, grazing the smooth perfection of his skin. His grasp tightens on my hips.