So much for the post-sex glow and tender moment time. “H-he was the one who found Az. He knew because—”
“Because he’s a f**king punishment angel.”
“Ah . . . I guess you do know him.” The angel world was composed of thousands, but it figured that her bad luck would hold and Sam would know Rogziel.
His hands tightened. “I know he’s a sick ass**le who should have burned long ago.”
Yep, definitely sounded like he knew Rogziel. Maybe the angel world was smaller than she realized.
Falling from heaven had hurt like a bitch.
Omayo stared below at the bustle of the streets. He didn’t remember how long ago he had actually fallen, because time had lost meaning for him. He didn’t know, didn’t care.
Humans flocked on the street below. He watched them, had always watched them.
The morning sunlight slipped across the river’s surface. Couples walked hand-in-hand. Young lovers stopped to kiss. Tourists snapped photographs. Laughter and voices filled the air.
Emotion.
He could sense it all around him, and, finally, he could feel.
Pleasure. Joy. Happiness. No more watching, now he felt everything. Just like humans. No, more than the humans. He appreciated each moment more because he knew what it was like to live in a void and feel nothing.
He turned away from the balcony and paced back inside his apartment. His shoulders rolled, and for an instant, he felt the flutter of wings that weren’t there.
Small price to pay.
So he’d burned. So there would be no more flying for him. The clouds lost their appeal after centuries anyway.
He’d fallen. He’d f**ked. He’d loved. He’d laughed.
Humans were the lucky ones. They had paradise right at their fingertips, and they didn’t understand their joy.
He understood.
He’d burned for this joy.
A knock rapped at his door. He frowned but walked forward. He glanced through the peephole—humans had such fun little inventions—and surprise had his jaw slackening.
He jumped back—too late. The door flew inward, and the heavy wood landed on his body.
“Hello, friend.” The mocking voice grated as Omayo shoved the wood away from his body. He surged to his feet, more than ready to—
A growl reached his ears. Low, menacing.
He stilled even as terror rose within him, spiking his blood and making his heart shudder.
“I know all about you,” that voice he knew too well said.
Omayo saw what waited in the doorway. The building was empty—just his apartment and a vacant garage downstairs. No one could help him.
As if humans could fight this. They’d be slaughtered in an instant if they tried. He’d never risked a human life. He wouldn’t start now.
“You watched them too long . . .”
Omayo stumbled back and sent a burst of power right at his old friend. “Get out!”
But the one he’d known for centuries didn’t move.
The blast seemed to have no effect. “You wanted to feel, Omayo . . .”
Was that so wrong? His hands fisted. “Centuries of nothing. Nothing. They have it all. I just wanted—”
The attack came at him in an instant. Teeth bit into his neck. Claws raked his body. He tried to scream, but the blood choked him.
Pain ravaged his body. Fury and fear twisted his stomach. . . even as the claws ripped into his gut.
No!
“Hope you enjoy every moment . . .” That damn voice. “Hope you like how it feels.”
Cold swept over his skin, and Omayo fought. No, no, he hadn’t fallen for this. Not the pain, not hell—
The twisted teeth sank into his throat and stole his scream.
“Go to hell, Fallen. See how that feels.”
Sam stared down into Seline’s face as a roaring filled his ears. “Rog . . . ziel.” He bit the name out from between clenched teeth. His least favorite punishment angel. Rogziel liked the job too much.
Time for a house cleaning upstairs. Rogziel needs to fall, and I need to rip him apart.
“How long have you been with him?” he demanded.
Her lips parted, and he glimpsed her small, pink tongue. Even though he should have been sated—how many times did I have her?—his c**k didn’t get the message. It jerked and rose eagerly toward her and she was naked and—
He dropped his hold and stepped back. His elbow rammed into the door.
“I’ve been with him for nearly thirty years.”
What? “Impossible, you can’t—”
“When my mother died, he took me in.” Her shoulders straightened. “He raised me, provided me with shelter and food, and in return . . .” A brief hesitation as she drew in a deep breath, then Seline said, “In return, when I was old enough, he wanted me to help him hunt.”