Book of Love (29 page)

The Black Angel’s eyes burned with hate for
the very fact of the man’s existence, disgusted by his refusal to
join with the Black Knights. A pity; the panther was gorgeous.

The panther circled the room, but so did the
Black Angel. The angel’s wings were spread, black as midnight and
dripping with the blood of a thousand dead souls. The panther
swatted at the angel, but the angel was fast to reveal the blade
and cut the panther’s paw as it slashed through the air between
them. The man fell to the floor bleeding, screams erupting from his
now human mouth. The angel laughed once more.

“
You die now,” the Black
Angel said. He lifted the blade above the man as the man’s gifted
eyes stared at the blade that would kill him. The angel thrust it
down through the man’s heart, and the man’s eyes went
blank.

* * *

Jane:

I followed Max to his car, his hand never
letting go of mine.

“
Get in,” He motioned me to
the passenger side of the black Land Rover Defender.

I eyed the vehicle. Getting in meant that I
was giving in, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to do that. Once I was
inside, I had no control over where I was going, or when I could
leave—unless I was willing to jump from a moving car. On the other
hand, he’d never held me against my wishes, and honestly, what did
I really have to lose at this point? I already knew that I should
be dead.

“
I told you to trust me,
Beautiful,” he reminded, smiling slightly as though knowing what
I’d thought, knowing that my feet were frozen to the cement of the
lot.

I felt a chill wash over me. I needed to
remember that he could tune into me like a radio, or at least feel
my emotion. I wondered then what it was he’d heard, thinking back
to all those times when it seemed he could hear me, but it had
seemed crazy. It was then that I began to wonder what it was Emily
knew about me. Did she already know about my dreams and visions of
death? Why hadn’t she told me? What was the extent of their talent?
My mind was wheeling out of control, lost in the seemingly endless
array of thoughts I’d always wished to keep to myself.

I heard Max clear his throat in a way that
was meant to break my thinking. I forced a smile and did as I was
asked, lifting the handle of the car door with a soft click. I got
in as my ears were filled with the sound of rustling coat fabric
against rough leather.

“
Where are we going?” I
asked timidly. I grabbed the buckle, now understanding just why it
was so imperative to Max that I buckle in.

He was climbing in on his side, the keys
jingling. He buckled, starting the car. “Someplace that I can prove
to you what I am.”

My imagination went wild
as I stared at his hand with the key in the ignition.
What would prove it to me?
Surely he doesn’t
—

I looked back at the doors
to the school, feeling a pang of accountability in my gut. I knew I
was skipping class, and that was something I rarely did unless sick
beyond reason, but this was beyond that—this was bigger than school
ever would be. It was my
life.
Max had known so much about my father, about me
and my family. I deserved to know if he was for real—he deserved a
chance to prove it to me.

We left the lot, heading toward his house. I
said nothing, but only because he said nothing to me. A nervous
sweat covered my body, and I wished there was some way to gain
control of this situation, but I couldn’t. The car slowed, taking
the same exit from the highway. We drove up the mountain about half
a mile before we stopped in the middle of the road.

“
This is far enough,” Max
said, shutting off the car.

He glanced at me before I
heard his car door pop and he got out. I scrambled to follow suit,
my hands shaking, thinking that this little adventure was beginning
to seem a lot like the unsolved murders you hear on the late night
news—
tonight on Dateline… Murder in the
serene peaks of Colorado…

Max eyed me over the hood of the car with an
amused smirk.

I pushed the thought away. The mountainous
air was clean as it entered my nostrils, smelling of fresh pine and
mud. I felt the gravel below my feet crunch as I twisted in place,
watching as he approached me and thinking that this was finally
it—my death.

His blue eyes were serene, though, no sign
of the murderous black I’d seen Friday night at the party. Max took
my hand in his and tugged me toward him. We were standing close
now, so close that I could hear my heart echoing off his chest.

He let go of my hands, gently touching my
cheek. “This is all you’ll need to know in order to see that I’m
not lying to you, Beautiful.”

His fingers barely touched my skin—icy cold.
He shut his eyes, and for the first time I noticed the tinge of
blue that encircled them, powdered with a delicate shimmer, like
frost. His shoulders flexed, his body groaning. Something grey
began to fan from behind him, slow at first, but as it continued to
grow, I had to take a step back to in order to see them in their
entirety.

They were soft and delicate, but massive at
the same time. Muddied grey feathers draped in intricate layers
from two large muscular bows, dipping to the ground in an elegant
arch. A light cottony glow surrounded each side. The same silvery
shimmer I’d found in the flecks of his eyes coated each individual
feather. He moved them slightly, and the wind of it fell across my
face, wafting toward me a smell I knew all to well—the sweet smell
of death.

I allowed myself a moment to relish the
familiarity of it before attempting to speak. “How is it
possible?”

He opened his eyes, the flecks of silver now
brighter than they’d ever been. “These are it, the thing I know
you’ve been wondering for the last thirty minutes.”

I furrowed my brow, stepping toward him,
challenging our closeness in my attempt to look brave. His wings
had not surprised me the way I thought they would, almost as though
a part of me had known they were there all along. The dimple on his
cheek was deep, his lips curled.

It was true.

I said the first thing
that came to mind. “So, you really can read my thoughts.” My cheeks
blushed, wondering if he knew all the other thoughts as well—namely
the ones involving the level of attraction I’d had for
him—
still
had for
him.

Max grabbed me around the waist, his
strength suddenly overwhelming, yet soft. His arm caged me, finding
my body fit into his like a lock and key. He winked with a knowing
smirk, making me feel further mortified. “Some of them,” he
whispered. “But that ring I gave you protects you from most of
that. Touching you makes it pretty clear, though.” He released me
and I leaned away.

He had a sudden air of
arrogance around him that he hadn’t before, as though his wings
validated confidence. I looked down at the ring. My hand floated in
the small space between us, unable to hide my amusement. “From your
grandfather, huh?” I lifted my brow. I was surprisingly calm and
confident, despite the circumstances—despite the
wings.

Max shrugged.

“
Was
anything you told me before the truth?” First it was the fact that
his grandfather is actually his little brother, and now the fact
that the ring was a gift from
him.
Then… the wings? What else was
a lie?

“
It also protects you from
Greg,” he protested. “Most of all him.”

I looked at the wings once more, seeing they
moved just like any other limb, with as much ease as any skilled
bird. I had to believe him now; there was no other choice. But why
wasn’t I more surprised?

“
Do you believe me now?”
His head was low, but his eyes still watched mine.

I nodded.

Max shook his head. “No. Not good enough,
Beautiful. I want to hear you say you believe me.”

I swallowed, my skin
drenched in a cold sweat. “You really are a…” I paused, afraid to
say it. “An
angel.”

He laughed, standing
straight and crossing his arms against his chest. “Yes,
and?”

I swallowed, taking a brave step forward and
around him, my fingertips grazing the down of his feathers. They
were dense but soft, layered in scalloped rows with a silky
shimmer. It was undeniable, and he knew I had more to say.

“
And
you’re
my
angel.” I pinched a feather between my fingers, watching as
it fanned back into place as I pulled. “Which means…” It was all so
obvious. The face I’d been longing to know and see was suddenly so
clear. I came full circle, looking him in the eyes. “You saved me.”
It was the first time I could bring myself to say it out loud—it
was the first time I’d seen the pieces fall together as
one.

Max nodded. “Yes, it means that I saved
you,” he replied. His wings dropped, carrying his emotion. “So, you
can see that killing you is not what I’m here for. Not even
close.”

“
I was
supposed to die,” I blurted, my hands clenched. Max did this to me.
He
cursed
me.

A flash of guilt washed across his face.
“I’m sorry for that. I know what it did to you.”

I didn’t want to be torn away from my
father. I’d wanted to go with him. Every day here was like a cage,
my soul with my father, but my body left behind.

“
Are you sorry that I saved
you?” He reached for my hands, seeing they were tense and knowing
his answer. He traced my knuckles, coaxing me to relax my grip. I
let him. “I know that I shouldn’t have, but I’d finally found you.
I wasn’t willing to—” He stopped himself, watching for my
reaction.

“
Finally found me?” I
whispered.

He laced his fingers between mine, ignoring
my question. “You shouldn’t have lived, Beautiful. I know what it’s
left you with. The thing is… I also knew that it would. I know the
decision I made ten years ago was made too fast. If I’d had time to
consider the consequences, things would have been different. I’m
sorry.”

I tried to pull away, finding myself
overwhelmed by the disconnected feelings I held toward life, but
then also the things I’d been allowed to stay for—to see. “I know
that I seem bitter toward living, Max.” He let go and my fingers
slid through his, falling to my sides. “But in truth, that’s not
it. Sometimes I wish I’d died, but sometimes I’m happy I’m still
alive.” What I didn’t say was that the times I felt happy to be
alive all involved him. Though what he was came as a surprise, it
didn’t change the tingle I felt. “A part of me is glad you saved
me.”

His solemn expression lightened a little,
reflecting the same look of relief I’d seen in my dream.

“
That was really you in my
dreams, wasn’t it, Max?”

He nodded. “It was.” He looked up at me, his
blue eyes washing over my body. “I’m sorry to pry, but it’s my job
to watch you.”

I swallowed. “So, you saw when Greg kissed
me, didn’t you? And that was real, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t move or respond, glancing at the
ring on my hand.

I grumbled, angry with myself. “I didn’t
want to do that, you know. Something about him tricked me. Greg put
me under some sick spell.” I was pacing in small circles. “And it
makes sense—you gave me this ring just after that.” I lifted my
hand, inspecting it.

His mouth opened, and I waited for anything
to come out—staring at his perfect lips, his frosty eyes, his giant
shimmery wings that loomed taller than me.

He stood quite still and calm. “It’s not
your fault. Greg has that power over people. He can brainwash
anyone he wants. You saw Alexis—though I don’t think it took much
to get her to do what she did.” Max had a skeptical look on his
face. “I’ve been in her head before, and she leaves it rather
open.”

My pacing stopped and I giggled, unable to
hold it back. I knew what he’d said about Alexis was true. Her
foreseen deaths were so vivid and clear. It was as though she’d
wanted me to see them.

After allowing myself that
moment to relax, I wiped the smirk from my face and concentrated
back on what happened in my dream. “He just—Greg did something to
me and it was like I couldn’t resist. I actually felt as though
I
loved
him.”
Disgust laced my expression.

“
He’s a Black Angel, Jane.
They have different tactics than I do. I would never falsely
convince someone they loved me. It’s dark magick.” He raised his
brow, half smiling.

I rolled my eyes, knowing
that Max had meant that he’d wanted to seduce me with his charm,
but chose against it. “But you
can,”
I interjected.

I watched his wings slowly begin to retract
back into his spine. He moaned as though the stretch had felt good.
Standing before me now, he looked so ordinary. It was hard to
believe the wings had even been there. “I would never trick your
thoughts into feeling something toward me…” He paused, his eyes
looking at the ground with shame, though the smile on his lips
remained. “Besides, I don’t think I have to.”

My mouth fell open, trying
to protest.
Stop reading my
thoughts!
I yelled in my head.

“
Then stop leaving them so
open,” he replied. “Sometimes you’re close to impossible to read,
but right now…” He laughed and shook his head, mocking my open
mind. “But like I said, I’d never use that power unless it was to
protect you. Mind control is dangerous, and addictive, as you’ve
seen with Greg. My soul may be dead, but we still have our vices,
and our rules. What he’s doing is considered illegal.”