Always, Angel by Heather Killough-Walden

Author:Heather Killough-Walden
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2011-08-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Angel let the fire in her palm go out and slowly lowered her hand. It took a good amount of energy to maintain magic like that and Hesperos was weakening her already. From the moment he’d appeared, she’d been flayed by his overwhelming presence. Her skin felt warm, her heart was beating faster than was strictly comfortable, and her throat had gone dry. She couldn’t help but remember what he felt like as he kissed her . . . and did other things to her. Two thousand years hadn’t managed to dim that memory.

She cleared her throat as best she could and shook her head. “Following me now, Hesperos?” Her voice cracked a little.

The king spread his hands at his sides. “Always,” he said softly.

At once, Angel wondered how much he had seen, how much he had heard. How long had he been floating about as nothing but a specter, keeping tabs on her? If he’d been reading over her shoulder as she had studied up on the archess . . . that would be bad.

“So, let me see if I can get this straight,” he said now, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and allowing his powerful gaze to drop to the rubble in the alley. “You’re obviously immortal—or very long lived at the least,” he said, almost conversationally. He spoke as if he were simply sorting out the facts. As he did, he paced toward her, once more circling around her in the sharklike fashion he managed so well.

It fit him. He was most definitely a predator, and Angel had never felt more like prey in her life. She swallowed hard and simply listened.

“You can change your hair, eyes, and skin color, but not your features,” he added, glancing up to blatantly appreciate her figure. Angel’s mouth went a little drier, but he continued. “You can create and manipulate fire. And you wield some sort of force blast.”

Here, he stopped, faced her fully, and crossed his arms over his chest. “But that’s not the best part,” he said, his voice having dropped a little. He cocked his head to one side, his green-gray eyes once more piercing her to the core. “Word through the supernatural grapevine is that you’ve been cleaning house, Angel,” he said.

Angel’s heart skipped up into her throat and her head suddenly felt tight, like someone was squeezing it in a vice. Blood rushed through her ears.

“A wraith in Pittsburgh, an Icaran in upstate New York, another Icaran in Brisbane, Australia—and just now. . . .” He looked down at the ground between them and filled it with his boot as he took a step toward her. “You gave him a warning, I’ll admit. But you would have done away with my subject without a second notice. Am I right?”

“Like you said,” Angel told him, taking a step back, “I did warn him.”

Hesperos smiled a small, almost sad smile and shook his head just a little, taking another step forward. “What are you protecting, Angel? If I recall correctly, you didn’t have a problem with our kind two thousand years ago.

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