existed. “We still haven’t established what you are.”
He exhaled, relenting. “You spoke of vampires. What other creatures do you know of?”
“Dragons. Thanks to you.”
He released her and stepped back. “If there were angels, would they be the good guys or the bad?”
Lindsay’s mind spun. Angels had a biblical connotation, and she’d turned her back on religion long ago. She’d had to. She got too pissed off thinking about anyone having the ability to prevent her mother’s death, yet doing nothing.
She forced her tense shoulders to relax. “Depends on whether or not they were actively killing the vampires and dragons.”
Sleek tendrils of smoke drifted up from behind him. The mist spread outward, taking on the shape and substance of wings—pure, pristinely white wings touched with crimson tips, as if he’d trailed the edges through freshly spilled blood.
Lindsay stumbled backward, barely catching herself with a hand against the wall. The purity of his true form threatened to blind her. Power emanated from him with a warm radiance that was tangible; she felt as if she was basking in the noonday sun.
Tears stung her eyes and her knees weakened. The hallway spun with a terrible sense of déjà vu, millisecond flashes of Adrian with wings. Different clothes . . . altered hair length . . . various backdrops . . .
For a moment, she feared she would pass out. And then it all coalesced into one thought: an angel .
Shit . She was so far removed from piety, the concept existed in a totally different universe. Even now—presented with his wings and glorious golden glow—what she felt was less about reverence and more about primitive, sinful lust. If anything, she’d grown more enamored with Adrian as his wings unfurled, because seeing him without his facade exposed him as openly as she’d exposed herself in the store.
She’d been peculiar all her life. Faster, stronger, capable of sensing minute changes in the wind that told her when something wrong was nearby. As a child, she’d often felt like a mutant, always having to be conscious of how quickly she moved. The last decade had been spent trying to be “normal” while hunting dangerous things to kill. She’d given up hope of having a serious romantic relationship. The need to hide an integral part of herself had left her utterly alone in the most fundamental of ways.
Now she faced someone who knew she was different. Someone who just might accept her being that way because he was different, too. She’d been unable to confide in anyone about the underworld she knew existed. But Adrian knew . . .
“You were going to let that dragon walk away!” she accused, shielding her sudden vulnerability behind anger. Just by knowing that she hunted, Adrian knew her—in a deeply intimate way that no one else did. He was suddenly precious to her for that reason, this ethereal being of impossible beauty.
“Your safety was my primary concern.”
“I can take care of myself. You should have taken care of him.”
“I only hunt vampires,” he said smoothly. “And as I said, he was a dragon.”
The front door opened and her gaze flew to it. Elijah walked in, carrying the groceries. He paused on the threshold, his handsome face impassive as he took in the tense scene before him. A lock of his thick brown hair slashed across his brow, framing eyes like emeralds. Although she hadn’t seen him smile even once, she didn’t get an unfriendly vibe from him. He just seemed watchful and sharply curious. Definitely smart. He was canny, she bet, and hard to catch unawares.
She felt Adrian come up beside her. The scent of his skin teased her with her next inhalation. He’s an angel . And he hunts vampires . . .
“I know you’re hungry,” he murmured. “Let’s get you settled, so you can come talk to me while I make dinner.”
The thought of a celestial winged being slaving over a hot stove for her was bizarre, yet there was an eerie sense of rightness in
He exhaled, relenting. “You spoke of vampires. What other creatures do you know of?”
“Dragons. Thanks to you.”
He released her and stepped back. “If there were angels, would they be the good guys or the bad?”
Lindsay’s mind spun. Angels had a biblical connotation, and she’d turned her back on religion long ago. She’d had to. She got too pissed off thinking about anyone having the ability to prevent her mother’s death, yet doing nothing.
She forced her tense shoulders to relax. “Depends on whether or not they were actively killing the vampires and dragons.”
Sleek tendrils of smoke drifted up from behind him. The mist spread outward, taking on the shape and substance of wings—pure, pristinely white wings touched with crimson tips, as if he’d trailed the edges through freshly spilled blood.
Lindsay stumbled backward, barely catching herself with a hand against the wall. The purity of his true form threatened to blind her. Power emanated from him with a warm radiance that was tangible; she felt as if she was basking in the noonday sun.
Tears stung her eyes and her knees weakened. The hallway spun with a terrible sense of déjà vu, millisecond flashes of Adrian with wings. Different clothes . . . altered hair length . . . various backdrops . . .
For a moment, she feared she would pass out. And then it all coalesced into one thought: an angel .
Shit . She was so far removed from piety, the concept existed in a totally different universe. Even now—presented with his wings and glorious golden glow—what she felt was less about reverence and more about primitive, sinful lust. If anything, she’d grown more enamored with Adrian as his wings unfurled, because seeing him without his facade exposed him as openly as she’d exposed herself in the store.
She’d been peculiar all her life. Faster, stronger, capable of sensing minute changes in the wind that told her when something wrong was nearby. As a child, she’d often felt like a mutant, always having to be conscious of how quickly she moved. The last decade had been spent trying to be “normal” while hunting dangerous things to kill. She’d given up hope of having a serious romantic relationship. The need to hide an integral part of herself had left her utterly alone in the most fundamental of ways.
Now she faced someone who knew she was different. Someone who just might accept her being that way because he was different, too. She’d been unable to confide in anyone about the underworld she knew existed. But Adrian knew . . .
“You were going to let that dragon walk away!” she accused, shielding her sudden vulnerability behind anger. Just by knowing that she hunted, Adrian knew her—in a deeply intimate way that no one else did. He was suddenly precious to her for that reason, this ethereal being of impossible beauty.
“Your safety was my primary concern.”
“I can take care of myself. You should have taken care of him.”
“I only hunt vampires,” he said smoothly. “And as I said, he was a dragon.”
The front door opened and her gaze flew to it. Elijah walked in, carrying the groceries. He paused on the threshold, his handsome face impassive as he took in the tense scene before him. A lock of his thick brown hair slashed across his brow, framing eyes like emeralds. Although she hadn’t seen him smile even once, she didn’t get an unfriendly vibe from him. He just seemed watchful and sharply curious. Definitely smart. He was canny, she bet, and hard to catch unawares.
She felt Adrian come up beside her. The scent of his skin teased her with her next inhalation. He’s an angel . And he hunts vampires . . .
“I know you’re hungry,” he murmured. “Let’s get you settled, so you can come talk to me while I make dinner.”
The thought of a celestial winged being slaving over a hot stove for her was bizarre, yet there was an eerie sense of rightness in
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