Wicked Edge (18 page)

She had to say something. “I assume you had a purpose in getting out of the shower naked.”

His sexy lips tipped up in a smile so sensual she had to force her hands to stay at her side. Awareness gnawed at her, exposing the gleaming bones of the real her that lay hidden within her angel shell.

“I want you to want me.” He reached for a towel. “This was a cheap ploy to achieve that end.” He stilled, his gaze sliding over her body. “Did it work?”

“Yes.” But she wouldn’t act on it. Not now, not here. She turned to open the door.

He didn’t try to stop her. As she slipped from the bathroom, he threw a final few words her way.

“Think about your heaven, sweetheart. From what you’ve told me, I figure you’ve never been in heaven at all.”

Passion shut the door before closing her eyes. She felt his comment as a punch to the stomach and almost doubled over with the pain. She had to believe that heaven was her home, because if it wasn’t, her whole existence had been a lie.

She couldn’t go back to the dungeon tonight and lie down beside him. Not after this. And she needed some alone time to think about the questions he’d raised about her home. None of what he’d said about heaven made sense, and yet the truth that lived in her said it made all the sense in the world.

She didn’t dare discuss any of this with Hope. The other angel would freak. Although from the way Hope looked at Murmur, Passion suspected she would find heaven pretty boring now.

Passion went back to the dungeon just long enough to tell everyone she’d be staying in her old room if anyone needed her.

Edge came back before she could leave, but he didn’t try to stop her. He simply watched her from those eyes that saw too much.

She’d almost reached her room when she met Kemp Hardiway in the hall. He recognized her and stopped. Passion didn’t have good memories from the last time she’d seen him, so she was tempted to say hi and keep on going. But that would be rude, so she paused.

He smiled, and it made a huge difference. Kemp would never look like the friendliest person in the world, but if he’d let his hair grow out, mess it up a little, and smile more, he’d be a great-looking guy.

“Did you ever finish your survey?”

He watched her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable, but that was probably just his way. “Yes.”
Lies on top of lies on top of lies.
“I see that you stayed on after the earthquake.” A lot of people had checked out, even though the hotel hadn’t been damaged.

He shrugged. “It’ll take more than that to scare me away. Besides, I have business in Galveston.” He didn’t mention what that business was.

Passion smiled. “Well, I hope the rest of your stay is less eventful.”

He nodded. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

Just before he turned away, Passion caught the edge of his smile. Something about it looked a little too personal. And once again, she got the feeling she should know him from somewhere. She had other things to worry about, though, so she forgot about him once she stepped into her room.

She didn’t stay long in the shower. The warm water and steam brought back images she could do without tonight. Passion needed a clear head to think things through. Climbing into bed, she turned off the light.

A mistake. Because even as she tried to work through the muddle her life had become, she drifted toward sleep. Her last thought was how she really missed knowing that Edge slept beside her.

Edge sat at the foot of her bed and watched her sleep. Her pale hair was spread across her pillow and she’d pulled the sheet up to her chin.

He smiled. If that was her symbolic protection from him, she was in lots of trouble. His smile faded. So was he. Edge had no idea why he was sitting here when he should be on his way. A whim? Could be a costly one.

They would make love soon. He’d seen it in her eyes as she’d watched him emerge from the shower. She didn’t realize it, but he did. And he wanted to bury himself deep inside her more than he’d wanted anything for a long time. But first, he needed to do this.

He said her name softly.

Startled, she sat up and looked wildly around the room. Her gaze fixed on him. “How did you get in?”

“Not much can keep Death out when it wants in.”
It.
That’s what he was, a tool of the Big Boss. Here, in this room, in the darkness with this woman, he could admit it. At least to himself.

“What do you want?”

She might sound calm, but he could hear the panicked pounding of her heart. Enhanced hearing was a bitch.

“The Big Boss touched base with me a little while ago. He has a job for me. I thought you might want to go along.”

“Why would I want to do that?” She sounded horrified.

As she should. “Yeah, it was a dumb idea. Forget I asked.” He started to rise.

She took a deep breath. “No, wait. I’ll go.” She climbed from the bed, gathered her clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom.

What the hell was he thinking? She’d try to save the scumbag he was about to kill. That’s what angels did, and she thought she was an angel.

And if he wanted to make love to her, this was a crappy way to try to win her heart. He quickly backtracked. Not her heart. He didn’t want her heart. Just her body.

Then why had he made the offer? He raked his fingers through his hair. Damned if he knew.

He’d almost convinced himself that he should leave without her when she came out of the bathroom. Dressed in leather pants, heeled boots, and a sexy top, she was a walking ad for Sparkle. Edge smiled. God, he loved Sparkle’s fashion choices.

“Ready?” He’d give her one chance to back out.

She nodded.

He beckoned her over to him. When she reluctantly stepped close, he wrapped his arms around her. She held herself stiff against him, but even as he prepared to dematerialize, he felt her soften, her body melding to his. And if ever he was tempted to tell the Big Boss to get someone else for tonight’s job because he had better things to do, now was that moment.

Edge closed his eyes and savored her warmth, her
innocence
, because she
was
innocent or else she wouldn’t be going anywhere
with him.
Don’t go crazy. She’s just a blink of eternity’s eye. Do your job.
Opening his eyes, he took them away.

They materialized on a dark street. A woman hurried along the sidewalk. Alone. It was late and everything was closed up. Behind her, slow steady footsteps stalked her. Edge pulled Passion into the shadow of an alley to watch.

“She’s coming home from work at a bar. She didn’t take a taxi because she doesn’t have the money. She has kids waiting at home for her.”

Passion remained silent.

“He’ll kill her in the next block. She’s caught one piece of good luck, though. He won’t rape her. He’s only about the kill. She’ll be his tenth. Fate has him slated to live forty more years. During that time, sixty more women will die. The law will never stop him.” He smiled into the darkness. “But I will. Tonight.”

“There must be another way.” Passion’s voice quavered—uncertain, torn.

“Give me another way that will save her life, Passion.”

“Can’t you just…stop him now and give yourself time to get proof to the cops?” She sounded desperate.

“There
is
no proof. And the Big Boss doesn’t play that kind of game. Fate has decreed that he continue killing until he dies. ‘Until he dies’ is the operative phrase.”

“I can’t just watch and do nothing.”

Was she trying to convince herself? What was he trying to accomplish by letting her witness his kill? She’d hate him for forcing her to make this kind of decision.

The man came into view, a darker shadow in a world of blackness.

“He doesn’t look like a serial killer.”

Edge could tell her a lot about serial killers and what they looked like. This one wore a suit, expensive shoes, and appeared to have
just left his corner office. “See the knife in his hand, Passion? That’s not a fashion statement. Clothes don’t make the killer.”

She grabbed his arm but didn’t seem to know what to do beyond that. The man had almost reached them and was walking faster to catch up with the woman.

“Charles is a building inspector. He likes to dress well for his kills.” Edge glanced up at the building the killer was passing. He focused.

Suddenly, the balcony on the fifth floor tore loose with a grinding screech and plummeted to the ground…with Charles crushed beneath it. Not one of Edge’s more satisfying jobs, but he didn’t think Passion would appreciate his wilder creative efforts. “Hmm, Charles inspected that building last week. Guess he missed something.” Edge loved the irony of it.

Passion started forward, but Edge reached out to stop her. “He’s dead.”

She’d clapped her hand over her mouth as though to hold back a scream. Now she dropped her hand as she tried to free herself from his grasp. “I know, but…His soul is still there. I can feel it. I need to try…” She started to shake. “I think I can bring him back.”

Edge frowned. “Explain.” Luckily, the balcony hid most of the horror other than a thin trail of blood wending a path across the sidewalk.

“The night you fought Bain on the landing, you didn’t see, but the woman was dead. Her neck was broken. She didn’t have a heartbeat. But when I touched her, she just woke up.”

Passion swayed, and he tried to pull her to him. She stepped away even though he still held her hand. That hurt. But what else did he expect?

“Maybe I didn’t bring her back. I mean, Ted never said I had that kind of power. But if I try now…”

“If you try now and succeed, sixty women will die.” He hardened his voice. No way was she bringing this bastard back.

Above them, someone opened a window and leaned out. “What the hell happened?”

“Time to go.” Edge wrapped his arms around Passion and took them home.

Once back in her room, he released her. She stumbled over to her bed and sat down.

“Will you be okay?” Good time for him to be thinking about that.

She nodded. “How do you do it? Does killing just become routine? Do you ever wonder if the ones you killed could’ve been saved?”

Anger roared through him. “I remember the name of every person I kill. And no, I don’t wonder if they could’ve been redeemed, because I can
see
their futures, and none of them would’ve ever regretted the lives they took. What I
don’t
have to worry about are the ones I saved, because I eliminated the predators that would’ve preyed on them. Think about the victims for a change, Passion.” Why was he so angry? Did it matter what she thought? And if it mattered, why had he asked her to come with him in the first place? He huffed his disgust. He didn’t know what the hell he was feeling.

“Do you ever wonder if you can be redeemed?”

Her question was so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “I stopped wondering about that a long time ago. Redemption isn’t part of my employment package.”

“I don’t understand you.” She flung her hands into the air. “Do you really care about the ones you save, or is it just part of the job? Maybe you even enjoy the killing.”

Coldness crept through him.

“I don’t understand
any
of you.” Passion sounded defeated. “I mean, have any of you thought about the people who lost their
homes when Ganymede did his earthquake imitation? It’s been all over the news, but I haven’t heard anyone here talking about it, saying they were sorry it disrupted so many lives. All I’ve heard is worry that it might be traced back to the castle.”

Edge actually felt his heart ice over. “Yeah, we’re all bastards.” It was better this way.

“I think I want to go to sleep.”

Translation: get out of my room.

“Sure.” He strode to the door and then paused. “But tomorrow we’re going to talk about this bringing-people-back-from-the-dead thing.”

Edge took the stairs down to the dungeon instead of the elevator because he needed to work off his mad. Passion wasn’t the only target of his anger. He’d defended his job to her, but the truth was that after tens of thousands of years he’d had enough. There. He’d admitted it. No amount of creativity could make him less tired of the whole thing. He wanted out.

Guess he had a decision to make. Keep on killing or stop existing. Hell of a choice.

Passion had watched a man die last night, and her only regret was that she didn’t
feel
any regret. Yes, the violence had horrified her, but beyond that…Where was the wrenching agony an angel should feel at the destruction of a life?

What if you’re
not
an angel?

She could close her eyes and still see the black swirling around him. Irredeemable. As hopelessly lost as Edge. Then why didn’t she feel the disgust for Edge that she’d felt for the man buried beneath all that concrete and metal? Would an angel play favorites?
No.

She’d sensed when his soul fled. Somehow she’d known he was beyond her reach once that happened. And she’d been
glad
that she didn’t have to save him. What did that make her?

Not an angel.

The whisper in her mind had no question mark at the end this time. But if she wasn’t an angel, then what was she? Panic pushed at her. She had to be something,
somebody
. Her uncertainty had her teetering on the edge of a yawning abyss. She closed her eyes
and stepped back from the chasm. She didn’t have time for an identity crisis tonight. Passion glanced at the clock.

Time to go. She’d spent the day in her own room, away from the distractions of the others. Okay, away from the distraction of
Edge
. Besides, if she wasn’t an angel, then she didn’t have an obligation to trail around behind him and the others. Sure, she was being selfish, but logical thought escaped her when he was near, and she really needed to get her head together. But there was just so long she could hold her conscience at bay, so she’d agreed to meet everyone in the hotel’s restaurant.

Passion took a last look at herself in the mirror. Each day she changed a little more. She wore Sparkle’s makeup and clothes. She cared about how she looked. Hello, vanity. Fine, so she cared what
Edge
thought about the way she looked.