His eyes flashed, and she hurried to stand before him with her neck craned back to meet his gaze, toe-to-toe with the beast. He took her throat in one large hand, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her neck. They locked gazes, his intense silver eyes boring through her. Last night, after he'd beheaded the four, she'd innately known he wouldn't hurt her. Even when he spoke of replacing her with a nymph. Whatever claim he had on her, she was more than just a blood monkey, especially when he had his choice of blood monkeys outside of Hell.

What the fuck did he want from her, if more than her blood?

She closed her eyes and offered her neck, surprised to find her pulse quickening in excitement.

"You spit fire one moment and submit the next," he said, his voice thick with need.

"We are both complex creatures."

She gasped as his fangs pierced her throat. The pain subsided, replaced by familiar warmth. He didn't drink long and sealed the wound after.

"No more whiskey," he snarled, turning away.

When she opened her eyes, he was gone, and she was just as confused as ever. She caught her reflection in the mirror, and the sight of the tattoo around her neck infuriated her. She strode from the room through the house to the alley to retrieve what belongings she had.

She was on her way back to her room with the scarf securely wrapped around her neck and the whiskey that had fallen mercifully into an outside trash bin without busting when she felt the change in temperature. Not as severe as traveling through the shadow world, but close.

She pushed the door to her room open slowly, surprised to see who awaited her.

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"Gabriel?"

He lifted his chin in greeting from his spot at the table.

"You here to kill me?"

"Nope."

She closed the door. His dark eyes dropped to the whiskey.

"What is it with whiskey?" she demanded. "You're immortal --can't kill you."

"Mortals need the power of reason to deal with us. It's Immortal Code. You have free will."

He took the bottle and tossed it out the window. This time, she heard it smash.

"A choice?" she echoed. "I haven't had a choice yet with you people."

"But if you did, you'd need to be sober."

Was he amused? She couldn't tell.

"Well, what do you want?"

He offered a hand. She took a step back.




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