Chapter 3 Lovesick

MALRIK

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” a voice said behind me.

I didn't turn around. I knew that voice: smooth, cultured, with just a hint of an accent that spoke of centuries spent in too many places to count.

"Azrael," I said flatly. "What do you want?"

The angel, or former angel depending on who you asked, stepped up beside me, his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit. He looked human enough, with his dark hair and sharp features, but I could see the faint shimmer of his true form beneath the surface. Wings folded tight against his back, invisible to mortal eyes.

"I want to know why one of the most feared demons in the Pacific Northwest is spending his nights on a rooftop like a lovesick teenager," Azrael said, his tone amused.

"I'm not lovesick."

"No?" He followed my gaze to Sera's window. "Then what would you call it?"

"Curiosity."

"Bullshit." Azrael tilted his head, studying me. "You saved her. That's not like you, Malrik. You don't save humans anymore. Not after Prague."

I felt my jaw tighten at the mention of that cursed city.

"She's different," I said.

Azrael huffed a quiet laugh. "They're always different."

"No." My voice dropped. "Not like this."

"How?"

I didn't answer.

"She's human," Azrael continued, his voice softer now. "And Sergei knows about her. You've painted a target on her back just by being near her."

"I know."

"Then why are you still here?"

"Because I can't fucking leave," I said, my voice dropping to a menacing whisper. 

I felt his gaze sharpen on me.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.

"Every time I leave," I said, "I feel it."

"Feel what?"

I hesitated. Then said it anyway.

"Like something is pulling me back."

Azrael was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed. “Whatever this is, it’s not clean.”

“What do you mean”

"Whatever happened when you touched her, Greyhaven felt it. And... you may be bonding with her."

"That's impossible. I'm a demon. We don't bond."

"You're a high demon," Azrael corrected. "And high demons absolutely can bond. It's rare, but it happens. Usually when they find someone whose soul resonates with theirs."

I stared at him. "You're saying she's my-"

"Soulmate? Maybe. Or maybe she's just the first person in centuries who's made you feel something other than rage and bitterness." He shrugged. "Either way, you're fucked."

"Thanks for the pep talk."

"I'm serious, Malrik. If you're bonding with her, it's only going to get worse. You won't be able to stand the thought of her with anyone else, of her being in danger, of her even breathing without you knowing about it." He paused. "And if something happens to her, if she dies or leaves you, it will destroy you."

I looked back at Sera's window. She'd gotten up from the couch and was moving toward the kitchen, her movements slow and tired. There were dark circles under her eyes. She wasn't sleeping well.

Neither was I.

"What do you suggest I do?" I asked.

"Walk away. Now. Before it's too late."

"And if I can't?"

Azrael's expression turned grim. "Then you'd better be prepared to fight for her. Because Sergei isn't going to let this go, not after what you did."

"I'll kill him," I said.

Azrael grabbed my arm before I could move. His hold surprisingly strong.

"Don't," he said. "Not yet. Not like this."

I glared at him.

"Let go."

“This city has ignored you for decades but answered her in one night. This might be bigger than Sergei, you need to understand what you're getting into first.”

"If you go after Sergei now, you'll start a war. And she'll be caught in the crossfire."

He was right. I hated that he was right

"Then what?" I demanded.

"Protect her. Keep her close. And when the time comes, you end Sergei quickly and quietly." Azrael released my arm. "But first, you need to tell her the truth. About what you are. About what's happening between you. She deserves to know what she's getting into."

I thought about the way she'd looked at me when she hugged me, the trust in her eyes. Would she still look at me that way if she knew the full extent of what I was? If she knew about the blood on my hands, the souls I'd claimed, the darkness that lived inside me?

"She'll run," I said quietly.

"Maybe. Or maybe she'll surprise you." Azrael turned to leave, then paused. "For what it's worth, Malrik, I hope she does. You deserve something good in your life, even if you don't believe it."

"But be careful, we have seen cities answer before. Never for anything good.”

He was gone before I could respond, disappearing into the shadows like he'd never been there at all.

I looked back at Sera's window. She was standing in the kitchen now, a mug of tea in her hands, staring out at the city lights. And then, as if she could feel my gaze on her, she turned and looked directly at me.

She couldn't possibly see me. I was too far away, hidden in shadow. But I swear she knew. I saw her lips part, saw her take a step toward the window.

A flicker of movement caught my attention. Over on the other side of the street, a sleek black sedan sat there, its tinted windows hiding its occupants. I zeroed in, allowing my senses stretch. I could hear voices—muffled, but definitely male. 

She's pretty. Be a shame if something happened to her.

I was across the rooftops and down to street level in seconds. I burst into her building, ignoring the startled doorman. I could smell her now, stronger than ever, mixed with the sharp tang of fear.

I didn't bother knocking. I kicked the door open, shadows swirling around me, ready to tear apart anyone who'd dared to touch her.

The apartment was empty.

No, not empty. She was there, standing in the middle of her living room, a kitchen knife clutched in her shaking hands. She spun toward me when I entered, her eyes wide with panic.

"You," she breathed. A mix of recognition, relief, and fear washed over her all at once

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

I offered no answer; explanations could wait. I forced myself to calm down, pulling the shadows back to appear human again. 

"Are you okay?"

"I, I don't know. I thought I heard something. And then I got this." She held up her phone with a trembling hand.

I took it from her, my blood running cold as I read the message:

Tick tock, little bird. He can't protect you forever.

"Pack a bag," I said, my voice hard.

"What?"

"Now."

"Malrik-"

"Now, Sera. You're not safe here." I met her eyes.

She stared at me for a long moment, fear and confusion warring in her gaze.

"Come with me," I said.

SERA

I should have been calling the police, demanding answers, and running as far away from him as I could get.

Instead, I was throwing clothes into a duffel bag while he stood guard by the door, his body tense and his eyes scanning the hallway like he expected an attack at any moment.

"Where are we going?" I asked, zipping up the bag.

"Somewhere safe."

"That's not an answer."

He looked at me, and there was something in his eyes that made my heart skip a beat.

"My place," he replied. "It's warded. Protected. No one can get in without my permission."

"Warded?" I repeated. "What does that mean?"

"It means you'll be safe there."

I wanted to push, to demand a proper explanation, but the look on his face stopped me. He was barely holding himself together, I realized. Whatever control he usually maintained was slipping, and I could see the edges of something dangerous beneath the surface.

"Okay," I said softly. "I trust you."

His eyes flashed-literally flashed, like there was fire behind them-and then he was moving, closing the distance between us in two long strides. His hands came up to cup my face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the tension in his body.

"You shouldn't," he said, his voice rough. "You shouldn't trust me, Sera. You don't know what I am or what I'm capable of."

"Then tell me," I urged

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll run. And I-" He paused, his jaw clenching.

There was something in his voice that should have scared me. But instead of fear, I felt a strange thrill run through me.

"I'm not running," I replied. "I'm right here."

He made a sound low in his throat: something between a growl and a groan.

"We need to go," he said, his voice strained. "Now. Before I do something we'll both regret."

I wanted to ask what he meant, but the look in his eyes told me I already knew.

He wanted me. Craved me with an intensity that should have been frightening. And the worst part was, I wanted him just as badly.

"Okay," I managed. "Let's go."

Just as we reached the door, the lights flickered out. Every bulb, every appliance, and the entire city outside my window disappeared into darkness. Greyhaven was plunged into blackness for a heartbeat that felt like an eternity. Then, strange white symbols ignited on the glass. 

Malrik froze completely. 

"What is that?" I whispered, my heart racing. 

He stared at the window as if it had just opened a wound. 

"Trouble," he replied.