Free Satan's Sword (Imp Book 2) by Debra Dunbar

“They’re solid hickory, a custom design. It took me months to get them special ordered. Try not to destroy my house, you asshole!”
    He looked at me with interest and then put his fist through another of my cabinet doors. “Come here,” he commanded. “Or I will break every last one of them into splinters.”
    Fucking jerk. I ran for the open door and sensed him throwing a burst of white as he raced to beat me there. I changed course and put the huge sectional sofa between us, surprised to see how bad his aim was. That white stuff didn’t come anywhere near me, and was barely strong enough to singe the door.
    Gregory glanced over at me and carefully closed the big steel door, locking it, and setting the deadbolt and the chain. There was no way I could get all that crap undone and out the door before he caught me. Keeping his eyes on me, he walked through the great room to the huge glass French door sets at the rear of the house that opened up to the pool and gardens. He thoroughly locked and bolted each one. I kept the sofa between us at all times.
    The angel walked over to the edge of the sofa and faced me. “Come here,” he said again, this time in that soft, deep, persuasive rumble. It rolled over me in dark blue, like velvet and thunder, and I really wanted to do what that voice said.
    “Come here willingly, little cockroach. Come to me and I won’t hurt you. Your obedience is all I ask.”
    I can’t begin to describe the feeling that blue put out into the room, into me. It was rich and sweet, and pulled at me deep inside. I wanted to walk over to him, to drown myself in those black eyes, to be as physically close to him as possible. If I did what he said, he’d be so pleased with me. Pleasing him, obeying him, would bring me such satisfaction and joy.
    Instead I shook my head to clear the fog of blue from it, then picked up a decorative wooden candle stick and waved it at him menacingly. It wouldn’t do any good in a fight against an angel, but I felt like I had to make a statement of my free will. I had to stand firm against the blue shit and its siren song.
    He dashed around the sofa at me, and I ran trying to keep as much of the sofa between us as possible as I threw the candlestick at him. We did a few laps, then reversed as he tried to catch me off guard. I should have been scared that a being far more powerful than me basically had me trapped in my own home. I should have still been angry at his arrogance and attempted compulsion, but I was actually starting to have fun being chased around the house like this.
    We continued the sofa laps for a while, when he suddenly leapt on the sofa and launched himself over it at me, knocking the huge heavy sectional over backwards. I was taken by surprise and shrieked as he hit me like a linebacker, knocking the breath out of my lungs. He wrapped his arms around me and twisted as we hit the ground, taking the full impact as we landed and slid across the floor, crashing into the dining room table and sending it flying. As soon as we stopped, he flipped over on top of me, pinning me to the ground. I wasn’t even bruised.
    I felt him take a deep breath and he looked down at me, the black bleeding through his irises to engulf his eyes entirely in their color. “Can I please see your arm?” He was obviously finding the polite word difficult to say. “I think I can fix the brand, if you’ll let me try?”
    I looked up at him. There was no blue stuff this time. No compulsion, no arrogant ordering me around. He actually said please. Still, I really didn’t want to do this.
    “I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. “I’m under a lot of stress right now, and having you constantly messing with me through the brand hasn’t done much for my temper. I need to disable it. It’s driving me insane, and I’m less liable to kill you if I fix it.”
    “Fix it? What exactly is your idea of fixing it? Making me into a mindless slave?” I asked in suspicion.
    He laughed