How to Seduce an Angel in 10 Days (9 page)

Tally supposed it was just as well, since she didn’t have any witty remarks to parry with—she’d hoped maybe he’d want to prove himself and drill her like a Craftsman. Of course, she’d gotten off just as quickly. She’d never been one of those multiorgasmic witches anyway, but it could be fun to try. Then again, she’d never really been an orgasmic witch at all, if Tally was being totally honest with herself.

She looked over at Falcon’s sleeping form and decided maybe all the afterglow bullshit wasn’t bullshit at all. Her face felt warm, her body tingled all over, and Tally had the most ridiculous urge to giggle. She leaned against him experimentally and found herself tucked against the hard length of his body.

Yes, Drusilla Tallow liked the afterglow very much.

CHAPTER TEN

Falcon’s Folly

F
alcon watched the sleeping woman next to him. She looked so fragile and small in her sleep, so utterly breakable.

He’d never known a woman to be so passionate in the bedroom when it meant nothing to her. Not that his experience was as vast and mighty as some, but he’d been with his fair share.

It was no surprise she was beautiful; no surprise he was hard again at the thought of being inside her, but what did surprise him was he found himself thinking of the future. What would happen between them when her parole was over? Or a question of a more urgent nature: What would happen when she went to Ethelred? He’d be twice damned if he was going to let her go back to Ethelred’s supervision. He could take his “bloody” Briticisms and blow them out his “arse.” Bastard. Tally could have been killed, something that would have concerned Falcon even if he hadn’t fucked her.

He cared about her, he always had. She’d been a part of his family since his sister could talk. She’d brought Drusilla home like a stray animal and Middy had asked prettily to keep her. None of them would deny her and Tally had become a part of their family.

The thought of being without her was like a knife in his chest. It occurred to him that since they’d crossed this line, he was destined to lose her. She’d eventually want more than what he could offer.

Falcon should have been there for her before she’d ended up with Vargill and then none of this would have happened. He realized his thoughts were at odds with themselves, which was why he wasn’t sleeping, but lying awake and staring in a completely non-stalker way at Tally while she slept.

He wondered briefly how many women had done that to him, lying next to him, watching him sleep. How could he want her so much and not enough at the same time?

Tally curled against him in perfect trust, her silken hair soft under his chin. He tucked the errant curls behind her ear and gathered her closer, as if the act would stop what lay ahead for them. Falcon reveled in the moment, for in this moment, she was his. He knew it was selfish and . . .

“I hope you don’t think this means she loves you, Pinky.”

Falcon had to fight not to jump to his feet, wings splayed and guns at the ready, until he realized this intruder was none other than the Angel of Death. Another guy who’d gained his lofty position through Tally’s antics.

“I’m kind of busy,” Falcon responded with a harsh whisper.

“I know, man. I waited as long as I could, but you know how the Powers are. I thought you’d never be done. Anyway, she curled up into me like that my last night at Loudun and you see what I got for my troubles?” Tristan demanded.

“You were aimless anyway. Death has given you direction,” Falcon offered, his voice still low.

“Fuck you, Cupid.”

“So, what do the Powers want? The sooner you tell me, the sooner you can leave.” Falcon pulled the sheet up to cover Tally’s bare bottom.

“You don’t need to cover it, I’ve seen it before.” Tristan winked. “Up close and personal like.”

“Let me guess. They want to see me because I’ve murdered Death with my bare hands.”

“Nope, that’s not it. They need you for a vote, but you’ve got to leave Tally here.”

“A vote? Do you have to vote, too?”

“Yeah, it’s something about that werewolf tangle the other day.”

“Damn it.” Falcon tried to extricate himself from Tally without waking her.

“Oh, it gets better. This is on the scale of apocalyptic.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” Falcon confessed. “I don’t want to leave Tally here alone. She’s supposed to go back to Ethelred today.”

“She’ll be fine. With Death and Cupid watching over her, what could go—” Tristan was promptly cut off by Falcon’s hand over his mouth.

“Don’t ask what can go wrong, because, invariably, it will.”

“Okay, fine. Just don’t put your fingers on my mouth again. I
do
know where they’ve been,” Tristan said before licking his lips. “Yep, definitely Tally.”

Before Falcon could process his impulse to knock Death’s teeth down his throat as a Good Idea or a Bad Idea, he had Tristan by the throat and had lifted him off the ground.

“That joke was in bad taste, I get it,” Tristan agreed and then laughed. “Bad taste. Get it?”

Falcon squeezed harder.

“Can’t. Breathe.”

“You don’t need to breathe.”

“Still uncomfortable.”

“Show her some goddamn respect.” Falcon dropped the other angel.

“Man, it was just a joke. You’ve got to lighten up.” Tristan rubbed his throat. “For a sissy with pink wings, you sure do have a grip.”

“I mean it, Tristan. She’s been through hell and she doesn’t need this shit from you.”

“Oh, so she kills me, eats my organs, and leaves me to rot and I need to be considerate of her feelings? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m
dead
.”

“So am I and you don’t see me crying about it or blaming her.”

“Maybe you should.”

“She blames herself enough as it is.”

“Is this a pity Tally party?” Tristan sneered. “I’ve had enough of this shit. I’ve been as good-natured and accommodating as I’m going to be. We’ve all had enough of the Surly McHero routine, Falcon. No one needs saving, least of all a—”

“Be careful what you say. Because like you said, we’ve all had enough of Surly McHero. You never thought that applied to you, Tristan?
Oh, I’m the great war hero who’s so tortured,
even though just between you and me, we know that you didn’t save anyone. Dred Shadowins did and you took all the glory. You’ve always wanted what belongs to other men.”

“I hope you’re not referencing Tally now, because she doesn’t belong to
other
men. She’s pretty equal opportunity for
all
men.”

This time, Falcon did have time to process the Good Idea, Bad Idea scenario, but he simply didn’t care. Tristan had called Tally a whore. Falcon was going to break his face in places that would ensure the man could never open his mouth again, let alone say such hateful things about his woman.

Small fingers closed around his arm, giving him pause. He turned to see Tally standing behind him, wrapped in a sheet and her golden hair haloed by the light of the setting sun. Her eyes shimmered with tears and if her hands hadn’t been on him, he would have already beaten the Angel of Death bloody.

“No, Falcon. Please.”

He wanted to open his mouth and argue, but her emotions were written so plainly on her face. She felt all the guilt and self-recrimination anyone could ask her to feel. She didn’t want any more violence to happen because of her. Falcon lowered his arm to his side, though it went against his instincts.

“You’ve fought enough for me,” Tally said before turning her attention to Tristan. “I’ve already apologized to Falcon, but I know I owe you one, too. I was going to send a tea box, but somehow that doesn’t seem to cut it. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I’m sorry for what you suffered; if I could take it back, I would.”

“You can. There’s going to be a vote today to take a man’s life. The werewolf who almost bit you? You could take the curse and channel it back to the Abyss and then no one has to die.”

“The portal to the Abyss isn’t a swinging door, Tristan.”

The pain on Tally’s face almost broke Falcon, but the steady pressure of her touch assured him she was holding her ground. Falcon wondered when she’d found such strength. He felt a warmth grow inside him and realized he was proud of her. She was facing her fears, her past, and her pain all on her own.

“No, it would most likely kill you. But you could atone for your sins. I’m giving you your way out, but you’re too selfish to take it.”

“I know you’re angry and you have every right to be. All I can do is say I’m sorry. I hope one day you’ll forgive me, Tristan. I’ve been thinking about something for a while, wondering if it would be the easy way out,” she began.

Falcon didn’t like the sound of this and when she moved to stand between them, he got a sinking feeling in his gut, but he knew her well enough to keep his mouth shut.

“You’re the Angel of Death. If you want to pay me back in kind for what I did, I understand.”

Falcon felt like he’d been gutted. Tally was offering to die.

His wings exploded out of his back and hardened into silver armor, but he made no move. He’d learned that one couldn’t protect a person from herself. This was Tally’s choice.

She extended her hand to Tristan, waiting for him to take it and, for Falcon, the world stopped. Time was meaningless. His existence would change forever if Tristan took Tally away. He’d kill him.

A small voice nagged at him from somewhere in the back of his head—it cried out that killing Tristan would be wrong. This was Tally’s choice and if he really cared for her, he’d do what he could to help her find her redemption.

Yes, he could admit he cared for her. It wasn’t love with a capital L, but he cared for her.

Tristan eyed Tally and reached out his hand to take hers and Falcon made up his mind. Her redemption rested in Tristan’s hands? No. He refused to believe that and he wasn’t going to lose her to a selfish man’s sense of entitlement.

Tristan took her hand in his; Falcon was too late. Yet Tally still breathed, still stood in front of him. The anger was gone from Tristan’s face.

“I loved you, Tally.” The confession seemed to have been ripped from the Angel of Death like a vital organ.

“You never said so and you never acted like you did. You were always out with other women. You talked down to me, made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything to you.”

Falcon felt another sensation, a tightening in his chest. Was he having a stroke? No, a heart attack? He was angel—he couldn’t have those things. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“I know.” Tristan hung his head. “I didn’t think you’d stay with me. I thought if you didn’t think you could do any better, you’d never try.”

“Oh, Tristan,” Tally sighed. “What a mess, huh?”

“I didn’t mean what I said about you being a whore. You didn’t deserve that. And me? I probably deserved what I got at Loudun.”

“Then why are you still so angry?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.”

Tally hugged him.

Falcon felt the stirrings of a certain green-eyed bastard. He was jealous! He knew he had nothing to be jealous of—Tally had spent the last night in his arms, as evidenced by the fact she was only wearing a sheet.

Pressed into the chest of a man she’d dated for years.

It was only reasonable to assume that they’d spent many nights tangled with each other. The visions that assaulted Falcon now were very uncomfortable and he wished, not for the first time, he’d beat the brain juice out of Tristan Belledare.

“I loved you, I did.” Tristan said as he sank to his knees and laid his head on Tally’s stomach like a child seeking comfort.

Falcon coughed. “So, I thought we had to go, or something.” He shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet.

“Do you forgive me, Tristan?”

“Yes.”

Realization hit Falcon again, but this time it was like getting hit with the wrong end of a hippopotamus. During their conversation on the beach, Tally had been asking for his forgiveness, but he’d been too stupid to figure it out. Instead, he’d kept trying to get between her thighs. He’d been concerned about demonstrating the prowess of his cock while she’d asked for redemption.

He couldn’t very well say it now, not with Belledare going on all needy. It would be like the third wheel on a date saying, “Hey, pay attention to me, too. I’m included. Damn it.” Tristan was being a dick and he still had Tally in his arms.

The nasty implication there was that’s where she’d rather be. At least, Tristan could tell her he loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them, he could say it. And from the haunted expression on his face, it looked like he meant it.

How did they get from verbal sparring to this? It made the bile rise in his throat. It was his own fault for being so gung ho to kick Tristan’s ass. If he’d ignored Belledare’s fat mouth, they’d already be on their way and none of this would have happened.

But then Tally wouldn’t have Tristan’s forgiveness, either. Damn, but Falcon felt like a selfish bastard. It was small comfort Tally didn’t return Tristan’s declaration.

“Shouldn’t we be going?”

“We’re having a moment here. I’d think with you being Cupid, you’d be a bit more understanding,” Tristan growled.

“Him?” Tally snorted and pulled away from Tristan. “Nah, he says he can enforce the party line without ‘spewing’ it.”

“Really?” Tristan raised a brow. “So there’s been no grand confession, no talk of
feelings
?”

Falcon felt the words die in his throat. Tristan had effectively crushed his windpipe without touching him, but Tally rode to the rescue.

“We don’t need to talk about feelings. I know Falcon’s stance on most things.”

He didn’t know why, but that pissed him off, too. Falcon couldn’t put his finger on it, but he found Tally’s comment to be incredibly insulting.

“There you go.” Tristan rolled his eyes. “He’s willing to beat me stupid, but he can’t tell you he loves you? I guess I’m not one to talk, but I’ve said it now, Tally. I love you. I still love you. When you’re ready for an angel who can commit, you know where to find me.”

“Tristan, no offense intended, but you couldn’t commit before. I’m not sure anything has changed.”

Wait, so, she wasn’t saying she didn’t want Tristan and that she’d stay with Falcon. She was saying that she wanted proof Tristan had changed.

This was all in one word dragonshit.

Falcon didn’t want to lose her. He knew that much. He didn’t want to lie, either. Not only that, but Tally would smell a lie like a six-week-old piece of fish left in a dirty jockstrap.