“You all saw that, didn’t you?” she asked, turning around to all the hunters. “You saw him vanish.”
Michael nodded, looking somber. “Yes.”
“Did you see the Archangel?”
Michael frowned. “Who?”
“The Archangel. The angel. Flowing raven hair, dressed all in white, wings a mile wide?”
Georgie shook her head. “We saw no angel. You did?”
“Yes. How could you not see him?”
“It doesn’t matter that we didn’t. You did. He spoke to you and Dalton?”
Frustrated, Isabelle sighed. “He took Dalton. I know he did. He gave Dalton what he wanted.”
“Redemption?” Georgie asked.
Tears burned Isabelle’s eyes, choked her as she fought for the words, hating that she had to say them out loud. “No. Damnation.”
Her legs refused to support her and she sank to the ground, shaking. Georgie was the first one there to wrap her arms around her.
“Isabelle, stand.”
“I can’t.” The splash of hot tears rolled down Isabelle’s cheeks in rivulets she didn’t even try to hide. He was gone. Vanished. Had the Archangel given Dalton what he’d asked for? The demon inside her had gone, too. She no longer struggled against it, trying to keep it from surfacing.
Instead, the worst form of emptiness she’d ever felt wrapped itself around her. Where had Dalton gone?
Angelique knelt down beside her, stroked her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Isabelle tilted her head back to stare up at Angelique. “He did this for me. I’m not worth it, Angie. How could he have sacrificed so much for me?”
“Because he loved you, baby. He really loved you that much.”
Her sister understood. She knew what had happened. Isabelle was free of her demon, but she’d lost the one thing, the only thing that was important to her. She couldn’t survive this. It hurt too much.
She bent forward, pressed her head against her knees, and sobbed. Her heart was torn in two. She never thought she could feel this much pain, never thought anything could hurt this much.
She cried until there was nothing left, until she felt sick. Then hands reached underneath her and lifted her. Through swollen lids she recognized Michael, who picked her up and started toward the main house.
“No. Wait. I want to go to the cabin.”
Michael shook his head. “You can’t be there alone.”
“Yes, I can. I’ll be fine. It’s just up the road from the main house. You can leave someone there with me if you want. I need to be where Dalton was.” She clutched his shirt. “Please.”
He relented and carried her toward the cabin, laid her down on the bed, and covered her.
Angie was there a minute later, pressing a cool, wet washcloth over her face. It felt good, washing away some of the grit and the tears.
“You want me to stay with you?” she asked.
“No. I need to be alone. I need to process all of this.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
Isabelle loved her sister. It would be good to spend time with her again. Just not right now, not when she was so raw, when everything hurt so damn much. “I’ll be all right. Please, just let me be. I need to sleep. I’m so tired, Angie.”
Angie pressed a cool hand to her forehead, then swept it down her cheek. “You’re not alone, Izzy I’m here. We’re all here for you. You’re never going to be alone.”
Isabelle grasped her sister’s wrist. “I never told you how sorry I am.”
Angie tilted her head. “For what?”
“For Sicily. For what I tried to do to you.”
Her sister smiled, tenderness and love reflected in her eyes. “That wasn’t you, Izzy. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
The tears started fresh. “You’re too forgiving.”
Angie bent down and kissed her cheek, then slid a box of tissues in front of her. “And you’re not forgiving enough of yourself. Let it go.”
Isabelle nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Ryder and I are going to stay here with you. We’ll be in the other room if you need us.”
“Okay.”
Angie left and closed the door, leaving Isabelle in blissful darkness.
Exhaustion took over and she fell into a hard, dreamless sleep. When she woke, it was still dark.
Something had awakened her. A sound, maybe?
Fear jacked her heartbeat up to a hard pounding. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood.
Maybe it was Angie coming back to check on her. But if it was, she’d be in here by now. Isabelle stared at the closed bedroom door for a full minute, waiting. Nothing happened.
Probably just her imagination. She went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, then turned off the light. As she walked through the doorway back into the bedroom, her breath caught as she saw a dark shape stepping through the sliding glass door to the bedroom.
Hadn’t that been closed and locked when she’d come in here? She couldn’t remember. She glanced at the door leading to the living room, to Ryder and Angie, and back at the figure who stood like a sentinel now that he was fully in the room.
She could scream, or she could run. She could do both.
She had to do something, and now.
“Isabelle. Don’t scream.”
It was a whispered plea.
In Dalton’s voice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Isabelle reached for the doorway, dizziness weakening her knees.
Dalton? It couldn’t be.
But as he moved toward her, she found herself unable to move. She recognized his walk, though. And the closer he came, the more familiar the shadow seemed.
Was she still dreaming? Maybe she wasn’t awake at all.
He reached her, and pulled her upright. And oh, God, it was his face. His hands were warm as he snaked them around her waist to drag her against him. His kiss was tender, and oh, so real.
This was no dream. She sobbed against him, unable to control the flood of emotions that burst from her.
At the same moment, the bedroom door burst open. She pulled away just as Ryder came through, his laser aiming right at them.
Isabelle stepped in front of Dalton and held up her hand. “Don’t! It’s Dalton.”
Ryder flipped the wall switch and bathed the room in light.
“Jesus. You’re alive?”
Angelique was right on Ryder’s heals, weapon in hand.
“I’m alive.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Ryder asked.
“I have a lot to explain,” Dalton said. “But to Isabelle first.” Dalton put his arm around her. “I need to talk to her. Alone.”
Shaking, her mind awhirl with questions, Isabelle cast a pleading gaze to her sister. “Please.”
“Just give us tonight. I’ll meet with all of you in the morning.”
Ryder nodded. “We’ll head up to the house. I’ll let them know you’re alive. First thing in the morning you can come talk to Michael.”
“Thanks,” Dalton said.
They walked Ryder and Angelique to the front door, and Dalton turned the lock, then flipped the lights off, taking Isabelle to the sofa.
“I’m sorry about scaring you.”
She didn’t care about that. She kissed him, unable to believe he was there, alive. But his touch, his taste, it was all him, and she couldn’t get enough. Not when she had thought she’d never see him again. Her fingers tangled in the thick silkiness of his hair, then roamed down over the corded strength of his neck, his shoulders, his arms. And the way his mouth moved over hers, devouring it like he hadn’t seen her in years, proved he was just as happy to see her. Reluctantly, she pulled away.
“What happened with the Archangel?”
He dragged his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. When I disappeared there was nothing but a black void. I thought for sure the Archangel had granted my wish and I was going to b
e given over to the Sons of Darkness.”
“My demon is gone. I don’t feel it anymore.”
He grinned. “I know. The Archangel suddenly appeared before me and told me our dual wishes for self-sacrifice were so sweet it was like a sugar overdose. Then he gave me a choice.”
“What kind of choice?”
“Redemption or humanity.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips, too afraid to ask, but too curious not to. “What did you choose?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Her stomach fell. “Oh, God, Dalton. You gave up redemption.”
“You were willing to trade your life for mine,” he reminded her.
She shrugged. “I’m half demon. The Sons of Darkness were after me. What kind of life is that? You were an angel.”
“A fallen one.”
She laid her palm against his jaw. “An angel, Dalton. I’m nothing compared to that.”
“Apparently the Archangel disagreed, because he didn’t accept your offer to die. Or mine, either, for that matter. And I chose humanity because I wanted to be with you, because I love you. What good would redemption be if I’m miserable? I’d just screw it up again and end up damned.”
Tears filled her eyes. She’d never been weepy before, but lately she’d been such an emotional basket case. “I love you. I can’t believe you did this for me. And the demon blood in me is …”
“It’s gone, Isabelle. You won’t have to fight the demon side of yourself any longer. The Sons of Darkness will have no use for you.”
She felt as if a giant weight had lifted off her. For someone who had thought so little of herself for so long, she suddenly felt like she might actually deserve this happiness after all.
“So you’re human?”
His brows lifted and he smiled. “Totally.”
She warmed at the thought and leaned against him. “I really like the sound of that. I can’t begin to tell you how I fell apart when you disappeared. It was like a part of me died.”
He sobered at her words. “I’m sorry. I know. I felt the same way. It hurt to leave you. And then I suddenly appeared back at the circle in the woods with the Archangel, and he explained things to me and gave me my choice. I figured you’d end up back here, and I really wanted some time alone with you first before explaining things to the rest of them.”
“As soon as you disappeared, this is where I wanted to be.”
“We’re attached, Isabelle. Physically as well as spiritually. You’ll never be able to go far from me without me knowing where you are, without me calling to you without saying a word.”
She welled up with so much emotion she couldn’t speak. She leaned closer to him, still too raw to believe he was really there, that he wasn’t going to be ripped away from her at any moment.
He tipped her chin up with his finger and placed his mouth on hers, and everything was right in her world again. One kiss, and he placed his stamp on her, that utterly sweet and possessive mark that said she belonged to him. The way he kissed her was amazing and powerful, so tender and yet so demanding at the same time, crushing her against him in such a definite way that told her in no uncertain terms that she was his and always would be. She had never felt loved like that before—this was what had been missing from her life, what she had craved and what she would never do without again. This feeling of being whole because she was being held and kissed by someone who truly loved her, truly knew her, and accepted her for who she was.
She kissed him back, accepting the man he was now, loving him because he was strong, because he was willing to give up his life for hers. And because she knew that asked right now or fifty years from now, she would still be willing to lay down her life for him.
The power of love was an amazing thing. It strengthened all her weaknesses, and provided her the ability to give strength to others. She never knew this kind of ability existed before she met Dalton. She had so much to thank him for.
“I need to make love to you, Isabelle. I don’t want to waste a minute of time with you.”
She smiled up at him, content to look at his beautiful face every day for the rest of her life. “I’m fine with waiting to explain to the others why you’re still alive.”
He pulled her to stand, took one step back, and began unbuttoning her dress. She was amazed that she could still feel butterflies in her stomach as his knuckles brushed against her breast, as if each moment was like the very first time he touched her. She watched as he slowly, painstakingly, undid each button, keeping his gaze riveted on her face as he did, knowing it was driving them both crazy to wait. When he drew the material apart and reached inside with his hands to surround her waist, her stomach jumped at the contact.
Dalton smiled. “I love the feel of your skin against my hand, how rough I am and how soft you are.”
She took his hands and lifted them to her breasts. “I like you rough.”
He took the piercings between his fingers and tugged on them. Isabelle tilted her head back, letting the sensations tingle through her nerve endings before looking up at him again. “I love when you do that.”
He smiled. “I know.” He arched her over one arm, then took a nipple into his mouth, taking the silver ring in his teeth and torturing her further, before sucking her nipple with a long, deep draw that made her whimper and reach for him. She dragged her nails down his arm, hard, and he rewarded her by biting lightly on her nipple.
Maybe they both just needed to feel alive, to know that this was real, but their touch, their tasting of each other was fierce, not gentle. It seemed to be what they both wanted, what they each needed.
Dalton straightened her and stripped her dress off, following the fabric with his mouth, his teeth, licking her ribs, biting her hip, scratching his fingers down her legs and then holding her while she stepped out of the dress. Then he shouldered her legs apart and buried his face at her sex, sliding his tongue between her throbbing lips and tantalizing her with every stroke, every light suck, mastering her body the way he’d mastered her heart.
She shuddered against him, shocked at how quickly he could bring her to the edge of orgasm, but she couldn’t—didn’t want to hold back—she was too filled with joy, with pent-up passion for this man she loved so much. They’d been given a second chance and she was ready to burst with desire.
He dug his fingers into her buttocks, demanding what only she could give him, and she did, crying out, tilting her hips toward him and giving him everything as she came. He licked her gently over and over again while she trembled against the wash of madness. Then he raised up, stripped off his clothes and drew her down with him to the sofa, taking her mouth in a deep kiss.
Isabelle was lost in the heat of his body, the rasp of his legs against hers as he positioned himself underneath her, then drove inside her with a harsh thrust. She welcomed him with a cry of delight, bracing her palms on his chest and lifting off him, only to crash down against him, impaling her sex on his shaft. Now it was her time to claim him, to show him that he belonged to her in the way that her body gripped his, forming to him, accommodating him, welcoming him with a surge of wetness and heat that belonged to Dalton alone.
“Yes,” he murmured against her neck as her breasts brushed his chest. “Damn, yes.”
She lifted her butt and then ground against him in a slow undulation of utter pleasure, feeling him twitch and tremble inside her. She held him tight to her, squeezing her legs together, possessing him completely.
Then he stilled, and she lifted her head, their faces so close they exchanged panting breath. She watched his eyes darken as he pushed inside her, hard and relentless. His smile was wicked, his eyes nothing but passion now. She gripped his shoulders and rode him, watched him, felt him lose it, and went with him, tears filling her eyes as she climaxed, rocking against him while his arms flew around her and held her so tight she couldn’t breathe. She fell against his chest and let the beauty of this moment wash over her, knowing that it would always be like t
his, grateful that they had been given the chance to love each other for as long as they could.
Later, they showered together and Dalton made love to her again, this time gently, washing her first and then taking her up against the wall of the shower. Easy, slow, watching each other the entire time. It was painfully tender and her heart swelled with so much emotion she felt like she’d burst with it.
Then he turned the shower off, dried her gently and carried her to bed.
She smiled as he snuggled up behind her and pulled the sheet over them both.
It would be like this every day. And for the first time in a long time, she fell instantly asleep, no longer plagued by the demons of her dreams, no longer worried by the ticking clock. They had all the time in the world now.
“What is it going to take to win against the Realm of Light? Must we always be made to look like fools?”
Aron slammed his fist down on the stone table to make his point.
Tase stood and nodded, trying to keep his own anger in check. It wouldn’t do at all for the Master to see him lose control. “I hadn’t expected the Archangel to intervene. That’s not according to the rules, if you ask me.” The Master didn’t interfere. Though Tase complaining about it would do no good. What was done was done. He had lost both Dalton and Isabelle. Now it was time to regroup and move on.
“So what are we going to do about it?”
Tase’s flames shot out toward Aron, but he quickly reined them in. “Do? We’re going to do nothing. In our grand plan, Isabelle and Dalton were soldiers. Just like the others we’re recruiting. We have more important things to do, to focus on.”
“The humans.”
Tase nodded at Kal. “They are more important. Our minions.”
“That goes very well.”
“Yes, it does.” Tase was happy at the progress. So was the Master. “Do not concern yourselves with small losses.” Tase smiled.
Losing Dalton was no small loss, Tase.
The Sons of Darkness cowered before the appearance of the Dark Master. Tase, as leader, stepped forward and bowed his head.
“Of course it wasn’t, my Lord. I meant no disrespect.”