“You shouldn’t be here,” I told her.
“Don’t do this again,” she said with a sigh.
I bit back a growl of frustration. She needed to go now before it was too late. She deserved more than me. I’d only bring her more pain and misery.
“You’re not scaring me away.” Her tone was laced with determination that was reflected in the set of her jaw and sharpness in her eyes. She looked so gorgeous it was taking all my effort to keep from pulling her close and kissing her pouting lips until I couldn’t remember anything but her.
“How are you so blind?” I demanded, my frustration boiling over. “I’m not good for you. I’m only going to hurt you again and again. What do I need to say or do to make you understand? I don’t have a fucking soul, Laila. I’m never getting it back. I’m never getting out of here.”
She folded her arms, framing her perfect breasts, and I cursed under my breath. I needed all my blood cells firmly inside my head for this conversation. But my blood wasn’t interested in listening to reason as it migrated south.
“You can sit there and tell me whatever you want, but I know you have a heart even if your soul belongs to the Devil. I’m not leaving you, and I’m not giving up on us.”
“There is nous,” I bit out.
She flinched. “Maybe not to you,” she whispered.
“It takes two people to have a relationship.”
Laila gave me a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re right.”
My breath stalled in my chest, and my lungs constricted. I knew I was supposed to be happy she was agreeing with me, but all I could feel was panic. She was going to leave me, walk away, just like I’d told her to.
“I can’t make you talk to me, but you can’t make me leave either.”
“Laila, please.” I wouldn’t be able to ignore her if she stayed, every second of trying would be absolute torture. But more importantly, she wouldn’t be out of the danger zone when the demons returned for me.
She leaned back against the wall just beyond where I could reach and closed her eyes. “Good night, Joriel.”
I studied her while she sat unmoving. The colors had faded in her pale blond hair. There were dark circles under her eyes, standing out starkly against her white skin. She looked exhausted, drained. I didn’t know exactly how much was from expending her power to bring me back from the edge of madness versus just being stuck in these caves. The skirt of her dress was torn in so many places it barely covered her legs anymore, and she’d ditched the sandals she’d been wearing. They now lay in a corner of my cell, just another piece of evidence for the demons to find. It was like shewantedto be discovered.
I wanted to be pissed at her for her reckless choices, but I couldn’t. All I could feel was a potent mix of relief and fear. Relief that she was still here, that I hadn’t lost her. And fear because it was only a matter of time before the demons found out about her. And when they did, they would destroy both of us. I’d rather live through a thousand more years of torture in this place than watch a demon blade cut into Laila’s skin. At least I deserved to be here.
I’d signed up for this. I’d stood in front of Lucifer and given him my soul. Laila was only here because a demon had betrayed her, had stolen her out of Heaven and left her to rot in Hell.
It was his fault she was here in tattered clothes with bags under her eyes. And I swore if I ever got out of these chains, I’d make him pay for what he’d done to her.
For a brief second, I allowed myself to imagine what would have happened if I’d met Laila somewhere else. But it was impossible. She was an attendant of Heaven. There was no way our paths would have crossed. No matter how I tried to write the story, she’d always be out of my reach. There was no realm, no situation, where I’d be worthy of Laila.
* * *
I hadn’t saida word to Laila in what might have been days. Eventually she’d stopped talking to me too.
I missed the sound of her voice, but I couldn’t admit that to her. Even now, when my willpower was cracking down the middle and I was ready to beg her to say something—anything—to me, I couldn’t. Because when I’d woken up, she was gone.
I felt her absence like a missing limb; it was impossible to ignore.
The only evidence left that she’d existed was the strip of her dress she’d given me to clean the blood off my hands, which I’d shoved deep in my jeans pocket where the demons wouldn’t see it.
I thrust my hand into that pocket now, feeling the silky material for the hundredth time, seeking proof that she was real, that she wasn’t a dream conjured by my imagination. The tattered thing in my chest thumped in protest. I couldn’t help wishing she’d come back. I knew I wasn’t good enough for her, but that didn’t make me want her any less.
Closing my eyes, I offered Father a prayer of thanks that she’d left my cell before I caved in to my selfishness. I had no doubt if she were here now, I wouldn’t be able to ignore her. I wasn’t strong enough to resist her light forever. Laila was the sun, and I wanted to bask in her warmth.
Without her, it was impossible to ignore the cold that seeped so deep into me it would infiltrate my soul if I still had one.
The sound of light footsteps had my eyes flying open. I yanked my hand out of my pocket before the three demons came into sight. They were all low-ranking ones—two male and one female. The lesser demons never took my blood, but they were no less cruel than the greater demons.
The woman looked down at me like I was a new toy. She had long black hair that streamed over her sunburn-colored chest, which was clad in nothing but a black bra. I looked away from her, toward the men who were at least clothed. I’d never seen any kind of hierarchy among lesser demons before, but the way the men flanked the woman made it look like she was in charge.
