Azrael opens the first door. “This will be your mother’s room.”
Her trunks—and the one rocking chair from home—are already here, stacked neatly in the center of the room. She walks briskly toward them, already taking inventory of everything. I fight the urge to laugh.
“Mother, I’ll check on you in a little while.” I give Azrael’s hand a small squeeze, silently asking him to give her some space.
She waves me off without looking up, and Azrael pulls me gently across the hall.
“Close your eyes,” he whispers. “I want you to be surprised.”
I close them. I feel his arm wrap over my shoulders as he guides me forward. “Go ahead and open your eyes, Mercy.”
I gasp, covering my mouth as tears spring to my eyes. “It’s perfect. I dreamed of something just like this the other night.”
I wander through the room, in awe at how closely it mirrors my dream. Could it have been a premonition? A glimpse of the future gifted by whatever strange powers I’m developing?
Azrael beams. “I’m glad you like it.”
“All of this,” I wave my hand around. “It’s all too much. I don’t deserve it.”
He rushes to my side, pulling me into a fierce embrace and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t say that. You deserve every bit of it.”
My heart swells and I realize there’s really nothing left for me in the place we once called home. “You saved my life, and my mother’s… Thank you.”
His hand reaches up gently to stroke my cheek. Then, leaning down so his lips almost brush mine, he whispers, “I love you, Mercy. And I’ll stop at nothing to keep you safe.”
I kiss him hard and deep. Desperate. Our tongues sweep against one another, our bodies press together like we’re afraid to be apart. Like we might die. I only pull away for air long enough to say, “I love you too, Azrael.”
His mouth is back on mine in an instant, even hungrier this time. My heart races and the world spins. And then—time stands still. I don’t know which one of us is doing it, only that we’re frozen in this moment, just the two of us. His hand cradles my head as his fingers curl into the hair at the nape of my neck. The kiss slows—each stroke of his tongue is deliberate, deep, and drenched with desire. I suddenly have the urge to take things further. I want more.
My fingers reach for the button on his pants—and then, he’s pulling away. Time snaps back into motion. We’re standing several feet apart, breathless. Confusion washes over me. I don’t understand why he keeps stopping this—us?
Azrael begins to pace, jaw tight.
“You stopped time again. I need to check in with Zora and let her know what’s going on. I’m sorry. I need to go.”
“Please, Azrael,” I whisper. “Don’t.”
He pauses, torn. “I promise I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning. I have a show tonight… and chores that must be completed before the Ringmaster notices they haven’t been done.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration.
“I’ll have the servants bring you lunch and dinner. Unpack, settle in. Try to rest. I’ll see you soon.”
Disappointment sags my shoulders. “Okay.” I stammer my response, feeling helpless.
“One more thing,” he says, “don’t explore. I’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow, but until then… Promise me you and your mother won’t go wandering the house.”
It’s such an odd request, laced with unease, but I nod. “I promise.”
He exhales in relief. “Thank you.” Then softer. “I miss you already.”
Chapter 36
Azrael
My walk back to town has me moving with a pep in my step. Now that Mercy and her mother are safely tucked away in the manor I can finally end the pathetic excuse for a man—Jacob. But first, several others need to be handled. They should’ve never laid their hands on my mate. My afternoon is about to consist of murder and demonic retribution. I can’t fucking wait.
The first three are easy enough to find. I’ve been watching them. They’ll be starting their day early—with a drink in hand. I practically skip around the corner and into the alley, careful not to be seen. In an instant, I dissolve into shadow and slip through the back door of the club, drifting through its dim, reeking halls until I reach the private rooms. Where I find victim one mid-thrust into some whore.
Tendrils stretch from me extensions of thought, wrapping their icy grip around his neck and squeezing until he turns blue.He claws at his skin, drawing blood, and gasping for air—until he finally collapses, unconscious. The girl screams as he keeps scratching, deeper and deeper, until blood streams freely down his neck. When she bolts from the room, tears streaming, to search for help, I materialize just enough to drag my glowing dagger across his throat, muttering the spell that damns him for eternity. I siphon his blood through the ragged claw marks he carved into himself, still warm from the fight for breath. I’m careful not to overfeed before slipping back into shadows in search of the second victim.
