“He breaks things, babe. That’s what he’s always

done.”

“There’s something wrong with him.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?”

“Be serious.”

Reed’s fingertips touched her cheek. “I am.” Eve stared at him for a long moment, waiting for some sign that he was playing with her or being less than serious. There was none. All she saw were warm brown eyes filled with compassion. He wore a graphite gray shirt today, open at the collar with rolled-up sleeves, as usual. He was an impossibly handsome man, physically perfect. But it was his imperfections that really did a number on her.

She leaned into his touch. “What do you know about archangels?”

His hesitation was nearly imperceptible, but she was looking for it. “Are you digging for anything in particular?”

“Is there any part of the change that would make someone more aggressive than usual?”

“Cain. Is. A. Dick. Period.

“Listen to me. Don’t judge.”

“Fine.” He couldn’t have sounded more disgrun tied.

“I know Alec Cain. But Cain the archangel. . . I don’t know him at all. They’re not the same guy.”

Reed’s lips thinned, then he exhaled harshly. “You’ve known Cain three months total, with a ten- year gap in between. Why won’t you consider that he was on his best behavior for a while and now the effort is wearing thin?”

“Time has nothing to do with intimacy. You can be around someone for years but not really know them at all. The reverse is also true.”

“I think he’s fucked you into believing whatever he wants.”

Eve bit back harsh words. Reed wasn’t trying to be an asshole, he was simply tactlessly blunt. “You can learn a lot about a person when you’re making love to them.”

He snorted, and she realized he might not know anything about that.

“Making love is for girls,” he said coldly, confirming her suspicions. “Guys fuck. We’ll do whatever it takes to get into the pants of a woman we’ve got a hard-on for. Cain is no exception.”

“Then do this for me. Dig into ascensions and see if any possible explanations jump out at you.”

He froze, his nostrils flaring. “Damn, you’ve got balls.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the mess inside him. We’re all connected. There’s something in him that wasn’t there before.”

“He’s the same as he always was’ Reed bit out. “He just has more power and less reason to play nice.”

“You talk a good game,” she shot back, “but that’s all it is. I want to know what’s inside him.”

“I don’t think you do.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “Say no more. I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you.” She put every ounce of gratitude she felt into the words, but his face remained impassive.

He stood and looked down at her with disdain. “Think about how screwed up you are, Eve. I’m right here trying to be what you want, and you’re asking me to help you with a guy who can’t love you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he disappeared.

Sighing, she said, Come back.

Eve waited, hating the feeling that her life was spinning completely out of her control. Pushing to her feet, she reached out to him again. I would do the same for you, Reed. I wouldn’t let it rest, if I knew something was wrong.

Silence.

“Ugh. I can’t win for trying.”

Exiting her office, she looked down the length of her hallway to the view of the ocean and sky beyond her living room balcony. She was so damn restless, she felt like she was going to crawl out of her skin.

The Novium was pushing her body to have some fun kicking demon ass. That lust for violence could be channeled into a lust for sex as a delaying tactic, but Eve wasn’t getting any, which left her spoiling for a good brawl. Here she’d been bitching about how much hunting she was doing, when it had actually been really damned convenient as far as her Novium was concerned. It took being cooped up at home for a couple of hours to drive that point home.

Now, what to do about it? Playing Wii sports wasn’t going to cut it. She’d suggest to Montevista that they go to Gadara Tower and use the gym, but she didn’t want to risk seeing Alec right now. She would have to thicken her skin before she exposed herself to his barbs.

Eve turned away from the beckoning beach and headed toward her bedroom instead. The moment she entered, she spotted an unfinished task—the beautifully embroidered, burgundy leather Bible Father Riesgo had lent her.

Perhaps Montevista wouldn’t bitch too much about escorting her somewhere, if she was going to church. Not that a church was any safer than other buildings; nothing was sacred to demons. But worst- case scenario would be that they cross paths with some bounty-hunting Infernals and throw down, and she’d welcome that. The demons were in town be- cause of her. They should be fighting her, not making life hell for the other Marks.

She’d rounded the bed and was reaching for the Bible when she heard the door shut and lock behind her. Tensing, she glanced over her shoulder. Her hand fell to her side.

“All right,” Reed said gruffly. “I feel it, too. Happy?” His hands were shoved into the pockets of his

black slacks; his face was austere and somber. Eve sensed how it pained him to make the admission and how hard he fought against his jealousy in order to be honest with her. He would have preferred for her to give up on Alec altogether. Instead, he gave her hope.

“Don’t get too excited,” he muttered. “He’s still a prick. He knew what he was getting himself into when he went after the ascension.”

She became very still. “You think he wanted this?”

“I think he pursued it.” Reed looked at her. “There are many handlers who are better qualified. Cain was chosen because he secured an endorsement somewhere.”

It felt so odd to be so composed on the outside when she was breaking into pieces on the inside.

“H-he had to know that things would change between us in the process, right?”

His face took on a stony cast. “He knew archangels are incapable of romantic love, yes. But he might not have been thinking about that—or you—at the time.”

More honesty, even though keeping that last sentence to himself might have helped his cause with her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, rounding the bed toward him. After Alec’s Jekyll and Hyde complex, it was a relief to interact with someone who was bare and genuine. To his possible detriment, no less.

Perhaps Gadara was correct in his assumption about why Reed had approached Sarakiel for assistance.

For her, Abel gave Cain the benefit of the doubt. It was only fair to give the same to him in return.

When she reached him, Eve didn’t think twice. She cupped the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers.

Reed’s arms wrapped around her so fast, they felt like a steel trap snapping shut. His head tilted to better fit his mouth to hers. His aggressive hunger stole her breath and melted the chilled place inside her.

His fervor was far different from Alec’s. There was lust, yes. Passion in spades. But his desire lacked the bite of fury and shadowy darkness of Alec’s. With Reed, she didn’t feel as if she was a waterlogged life preserver for a drowning man.

Breaking the connection, he rested his forehead against hers. “Don’t use me to punish Cain.”

“No.” She pressed more tightly against him. “No Cain. Just you.”

He cupped her buttocks in his hand and lifted her feet from the floor.

Eve. . . want you..

His lips, so firm and sensually curved, were softer than she’d expected. The last time he kissed her, he’d been rough. Angry. This time, his tongue was velvety soft as it licked deep into her mouth. The plunging motion was so deeply sexual she grew hot and wet. Moaning, she rubbed against him.

Want you, Eve, want you..

Alec’s challenge echoed—”What’s more important? When someone wants you because they can’t help it? Or when they want you because they make the conscious decision to want you?”

But Alec was wrong. He didn’t want her— consciously or otherwise. He needed her, but this afternoon she’d come to realize that she couldn’t keep him afloat. Not in that sea of madness inside him. He would pull her under with him, just as he nearly had when he ascended to archangel. A Mark couldn’t survive that Change—Alec, a mal ‘akh, had barely survived it—yet, as his body had altered states, he’d dragged her down into the inky blackness of his agony. It was Reed who’d pulled her free and saved her from certain insanity.

Reed pivoted, pinning her to the door. Want you.

Her legs wrapped around his lean hips. Their chests heaved together, the sound of their labored breathing more potent for its rarity. Marks didn’t sweat, didn’t get winded, didn’t have racing hearts. . . except when gripped by lust for blood or sex. Stress didn’t affect them, nor did regular exercise. The rarity of physical reactions created a craving for them, part of the way God encouraged Marks to retain their humanity despite a life of killing.

He pulled back and pressed his hot cheek to hers. “Sometimes, I hate you.”

Eve felt that resentment occasionally, when he watched her and thought she wasn’t aware. If it’s any consolation, sometimes I hate myself.

“You wanted me before he came back into the pictore, then denied me afterward.” His hand cupped her breast, his thumb stroking across her nipple. Hot, dark eyes watched her pant and arch into his touch. They challenged her, mocked her.

“You damned me.”

Want me back.

His voice in her mind was different from the one that spoke aloud to her. It was rougher, deeper, his half-formed fleeting thoughts pushed away as quickly as they appeared.

“I want to walk away from you.” He rolled his hips so his hard length stroked directly against where she ached. “I want to fuck someone else and let you know that I have. I want you to lie in bed at night and wish you were beneath me. But you don’t.”