Revelation (7 page)

She swallowed. “Just…just don’t touch me, okay? What’s going on? Why are you here? And what’s that…” She waved her hand, impatient. “That thing doing in my refrigerator?”

“Fair questions.” He didn’t release her. Didn’t look away. “Do you really want the answers, or are you just giving me your tough-chick act to make a point?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

A massive shrug. “It means you’ve got a choice. You can turn away, let me do what I’ve gotta do and pretend like this never happened. That’d be best.”

“Or?”

“Or, you can open your eyes.”

“I choose door number two.”

The angel laughed, harsh like glass. “You won’t be able to unsee what I show you. Believe me, you’ll want to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze. “I’m a doctor. A scientist. I always want the truth. If you think you can manage that much.”

He stared back at her, grim. And then he leapt backwards on a sweep of black wings, and settled his annoyingly cute butt on the autopsy bench, elbows resting on knees and fingers locked together. “Okay,” he said lightly. “Your choice. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You ready, or are you going to pass out again?”

“Screw you, okay? It’s been kind of a rough night.”

“They did that a lot in the Dark Ages, you know. Fainted whenever we came by. People falling on their faces left and right. It got tiresome. I’m like, ‘This is His holy word, folks! Show a bit of class. Now’s not the time to cower in the ditch like a dog. Stand up like a man and listen.’ ” He settled his wings, long feathers curling on the steel. “Or woman, as the case may be. Twenty-first century, and all. We do affirmative action revelations now, or so I’ve heard.”

His sardonic tone insulted her. “Listen, mister—”

“Luniel. Lune, if you want. Do me the courtesy.”

Morgan yanked out the desk chair and sat down, squeezing her thighs together. They still tingled. She crossed her ankles, defensive. “Luniel, then. There’s no need to be a smart-ass. I’ve never seen an angel before. I’m taking a minute to adjust, if that’s not too much trouble.”

He stared, bemused. And then he gave a sexy smile that quickened her pulse. “Well, good for you, Doctor. I’m impressed. If they don’t faint, most people only do one other thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“Run screaming.”

She forced a smile. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I’d give that a few more minutes if I were you. You ready for this?”

Morgan took a deep breath. She was a scientist. Everything had a rational explanation. “Yes.”

“You ever read the Bible, Dr. Sterling?”

“No. I mean, yes. A long time ago. But I don’t, ah…” She grinned suddenly. She wasn’t the only one who had to face the truth. “I don’t believe in it. Present company excepted, on a provisional basis, of course.”

“That makes it all worthwhile,” he observed dryly. “You remember a book called Revelation? Seven signs of the Apocalypse?”

She laughed. “Okay. I’ve seen this movie, right? Demi Moore has a baby and saves the world? I’m not sure I remember the angel in that one being such a wiseass.”

“Shut up and listen, human, or I’ll put you over my knee.”

Stupidly, she flushed. “That’s not funny.”

“It could be.” A wicked glint fired his eyes.

“You know, I have another pistol? Just let me—”

“Okay, okay. The signs are seven plagues, caused by seven golden vials, filled with holy wrath. Empty those bad boys out, Satan pops out of the pit and it’s all over. With me?”

“Sure. God kills Satan, Judgment Day comes, the world ends. Bing-bam-boom.”

“That’s the plan. Naturally, we don’t want just any idiot splashing this stuff around whenever they feel like it. So we’ve got seven guardian angels, one for each vial. All secret. No one knows who or where they are. And on it goes, waiting for God to say the word. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Ready for the good part?”

“I’m holding my breath.”

Luniel pointed at the fridge room with one wing’s tip. “That murdered angel is my brother, Ithiel. That hole in his chest was made by a demon’s sword. I’m here to find out if Ithiel was a Vial Guardian. Because if he was, we’re in deep shit.”

“And how’s that?”

“Taken a walk by the shore lately?”

“No. Why?”

“Because the sea turned to blood tonight. That’s the second plague.”

Morgan stared. He had to be kidding, right? All lies. A plot to trick her into doing whatever he wanted.

Yeah, right,
her inner critic scoffed.
Like he needs a plot. You’d have done whatever he wanted eagerly enough a few minutes ago…

“That’s not true,” she covered quickly. “People would notice. I’d have heard about it.”

“Only just happened. Switch on the TV, if you like.”

She bit her lip. There wasn’t one here. She’d check when she got upstairs. “Okay. Say I believe you. Go on.”

“Well, we’re all in a flap about it, aren’t we? It could be just some”—Luniel waved a hand—“some random thing, y’know? But it might not. If a demon tipped out the mojo and caused the plague, we’re in for some serious trouble.”

“The end of the world? Please.”

“Worse than that, I’m afraid.”

She shook her head, exasperated. “Worse than everyone dying, angel? Astonish me.”

“Don’t you get it? Heaven’s supposed to win. It’s all meant to go just as the big guy said it would. But if demons get a hold of His wrath, everything gets twisted. And in the end, hell wins.”

“Riiight. The demon Apocalypse. Bummer. Whose stupid idea was it to leave those vials lying around in the first place, eh?”

“Look, I’m just gonna pretend you’re taking this seriously, okay? Ithiel is the key. I have to know if a demon stole the vial.”

“And how will you find this out, again?”

“I’ve got a few tricks.” He grinned, cheeky and handsome. Like he was just some guy flirting with her in a bar. “I can do magic. Wanna see?”

Morgan swallowed. Flyboy had all the moves, all right. Charming, funny, sexy. And disarming. You wouldn’t believe he had a lying bone in his body. Far too much like her mother’s killer. She wanted to punch his face in. “In a minute. I’ve got a few questions first.”

She expected him to brush her off, shy away from scrutiny. But Luniel just shrugged. “Fire away.”

Okay. Time to concentrate, catch him out.
She frowned,
trying to remember what she knew about angels. “You bled when I shot you. Are all angels flesh and blood?”

“Yep. Between you and me? We were kind of a practice run for humans. Bigger, stronger, heal faster, don’t age, that kind of thing. And I guess He decided the wings were too much fun. Toned the whole thing down for mark two.” He frowned. “Come to think of it, you guys got a raw deal.”

“Oh.” She shifted, uncomfortable. “So that’s why you’re so, ah…”

“Tough? Witty? Roguishly handsome?” He winked. “Wait till you see Dashiel.”

“One’s enough, thanks,” she replied dryly. “So gunshots won’t kill you, huh? You’re immortal, then?”

“Nothing’s polished me off yet.” A cocky grin.

“And nothing can?”

“Ithiel’s dead, isn’t he? Demonsteel through the heart tends to do that. Forgive me if I don’t make you a list.”

“Fair enough. You say this blood is the second sign. What’s the first?”

“Supposed to be boils and sores. Rotting skin, the crazies, that kind of thing. Seen any of that recently, Doctor?”

Morgan laughed, uneasy. “The Manhattan virus? You can’t be serious. I’ve been studying that. It’s just a blood-borne pathogen.”

“Is it?” His gaze didn’t falter.

Doubt crept into her guts, and she swallowed. “Another thing. You say that guy’s your brother, yet you don’t seem too cut up about him being dead. Why’s that?”

His gaze darkened, but he didn’t let it slip. “We, uh…don’t see too much of each other these days.”

“Oh. You guys fall out, or something?”

“Heh. Yeah. You could say that. But blood’s blood. We still talk occasionally. Talked. Whatever.”

“But he never mentioned this guardian business?”

“Nope.”

“Doesn’t that seem strange?”

“So he’s a tight-assed son of a bitch. What can I say? I love the guy.”

“Okay.” She thought hard, adding up what he’d said. The explanation requiring the fewest unusual assumptions was the
most likely…“You say this demon could have stolen your brother’s bottle thingy—”

“Vial.”

“Yeah. That. Whatever. You say the demon could’ve taken it. But if the blood in the ocean really is one of your signs, it could’ve been one of your guys who did it, right? Not a demon?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“And I’m guessing you angels and demons slaughter each other all the time, right?”

“And twice on Sundays,” he said cheerfully. “Best fun you can have with your pants on.”

“So Ithiel’s murder probably had nothing to do with this. If the blood really is a sign, it’s actually more likely that this is the real thing, isn’t it? Just like in Revelation? God wins?”

“Guess so. If you put it like that.”

She held her breath. “So if it is, why wouldn’t you know about it?”

Luniel wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Was afraid you’d ask that.”

“Uh-huh. And why would you even care, either way? Isn’t it ‘meant to happen’?” She made ironic quote marks in the air. “When it’s all over, won’t you guys just get sucked up into heaven, or something?”

“It’s complicated…”

“Yeah. Right.” She folded her arms. “Whose side are you really on? And don’t even think about lying to me.”

Luniel sighed, tilting heavenblue eyes to the sky. “It’s not really a matter of sides—”

“Answer me, creature. If you’re really a demon, I swear to God I’ll slice you up with this autopsy saw.”

He leaned back, palms warding her off. “I’m not a demon, okay? Give me a break. Demons have beady little red eyes and smell bad.”

“But you’re not exactly in the club, are you? You curse, you flirt, you don’t exactly look…
angelic
. Sorry, I don’t buy it. What’s the catch?” She held his gaze with hers, triumphant, determined not to let him get away with anything.

He grimaced. “Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds. We had…kind of a disagreement. About…stuff. It’s not important.”

She shook her head, incredulous but satisfied. “I should’ve
known. You’re a fallen angel, right? Did the wrong thing by Dad and got grounded for it like a sulky teenager.”

He jammed his chin into his hands and pouted comically. “We’re not exactly
fallen
, okay? We still play for heaven. We’re just not on the first team.”

“That has to be the worst rationalization I ever heard.”

“We’re called the Tainted, and there’s a bunch of us. We’re not damned, but we’re not exactly heaven’s favorites, either. It’s kind of a halfway thing?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, okay? We work for an archangel called Michael. He calls us when he’s made a mess and doesn’t want to get his hands even dirtier than they already are.”

Morgan blinked. “Michael?
The
Michael? From all those paintings? Girly long-haired guy with the armor and the big sword?”

“Girly.” Luniel snickered. “I am so telling him you said
girly
. But yeah. Isn’t more than one Mike, far as I know. Thank heaven.”

“And so you want to stave off the Apocalypse. How come? What do you care? Won’t it all be nectar and ambrosia and harp music…?” She stared. “Oh, shit. Heaven doesn’t want you, right?”

Luniel shrugged, sheepish. “Hey, at least you guys got somewhere to go. Heaven repossessed my soul. I’m just gonna blink out. Even hell’s gotta be better than oblivion.”

Her mind worked it over, incredulous.
I can’t believe I’m sitting here talking about the end of the world. With an angel. A fallen angel. Who’s probably lying through that killer smile with every blasted word.

He lighted to his feet. “Okay? Done with the inquisition? Let’s go see if we can’t raise a few demon sigils—”

“One more thing.” Morgan stood, facing him. If he was going to lie, he’d have to lie to her face. No more omissions. Just the facts.

Luniel halted, exasperated. “What?”

“What was your sin?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your sin. What did heaven throw you out for?”

His jaw tightened. “You really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“Come closer, then. Trust for trust.”

Morgan took a step. She didn’t trust him. Not at all. But she had to know.

“Closer.” Luniel beckoned, a fiery glint in his eyes.

She edged closer. She could feel his body heat. Smell that delicious toffee scent. Feel his lips on hers in her memory, that scorching kiss, his strong arms around her…

She tightened her mouth, stoic. His magnetism affected her, she couldn’t deny that. Didn’t mean it wasn’t all part of the trick.

He leaned over her. His sooty hair fell on her shoulder, fragrant, inviting. She shivered.
It’s a game. Don’t fall for his lies. Don’t let him touch you…

His lips brushed her ear. Unwillingly, she gasped, heat sparkling all the way down.

She felt him smile, his mouth curling. “I spanked too many disobedient doctors,” he whispered. “Watch out, or I might fall right off the wagon. Now, you wanna see Lune’s magical angel autopsy, or what?”

Morgan gave him a playful grin, and stalked off towards the fridges, and Luniel’s gaze licked the sweet curve of her ass every step of the way.

He swore, and tore his eyes away.
Nice work, Lune. Because flirting with her is
such
a good idea right now.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing her scent to fade, her skin’s smoothness under his fingers to disappear. Kissing her was a mistake. But fuck it if it wasn’t the most pleasurable one he’d made in a long time. He still had an aching hard-on that stretched his jeans, and if she hadn’t noticed she was either dead or blind.

He felt like smacking his face into the wall until it bled, just to take the pain. What was he thinking?

Hell, he wasn’t thinking. He just wanted her. Wanted to have her, own her, silence those clever questions with kisses and make her stupid with sensation, pleasure her so deep and breathless that she couldn’t make more than an incoherent sound.