Free Sweet Disgrace by Cherrie Lynn Page B

more often, the world would be a brighter place.”
    Celeste felt her expression darken. “If only it were that simple.”
    His fingers trailed down to trace her cheek, the line of her jaw. His dark gaze followed the progression, then lifted to meet her own. As always, those black eyes ate up what little light the moon cast, letting none of it escape. “Tell me about your home. What do you do there?”
    “What do you think?”
    “I’ve always imagined it as one big never-ending choir practice.”
    “It’s not like that at all. It’s beautiful. A lot like earth, only more vivid. More…perfect, and completely peaceful.” Absently, she traced the line of one of his markings where it snaked over his shoulder. “I suppose that sounds insufferable to you.”
    “You might be surprised,” he muttered. Silence stretched out for a moment. “Aren’t you going to ask me what it’s like where I’m from?”
    Celeste chuckled. “Actually, no. I apologize if that offends you. But I don’t really want to know where all those souls I’ve lost have gone.”
    His hand fell away from her face. It disturbed her how much she missed that touch once it was gone, and when he moved to sit up, an empty hollow yawned wide in the pit of her stomach.
    “Fair enough. I’m sure it wouldn’t make you feel any better.” The bitter edge in his voice hurt, and just then she thought she might pay any price to ease his suffering.
    Their new position gave her a full view of his back, with its intricate, swirling black patterns. She put her arms around his waist and dropped her lips to his shoulder. “When must you go?”
    “Soon.”
    “And I won’t see you again?”
    “I don’t know.” He turned to look at her, half his face silvered by moonlight. “Perhaps you will, eventually.”
    She didn’t want to think about all those tasks ahead of her, struggling for souls against his colleagues. She would be missing him the whole time. And when they finally faced each other again years from now—centuries even? What then?
    Of course, she was assuming she wouldn’t be reassigned for this little excursion.
    Distressed, she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed closer to him, breathing the fiery, exotic scent of his skin.
    She didn’t want to go home. The swift, sudden knowledge shook her to the core.
    Damael turned back to look out over the ocean, his hair a brush of silk against her cheek.
    His fingertips trailed along her arm, and then his hand grasped it hard. Lifting her head with a frown, she followed his gaze to see an eerie, wavering orange glow burning under the swells of the ocean.
    “It’s a portal.” Damael stood abruptly, pulling her with him and exhorting her to put on her robes. She did so quickly, fear thrumming through her.
    “Are they coming for you?”
    “Most likely. I need you to go.”
    “No—”
    He finished shrugging into his shirt, leaving it open, and took her by the arms. His dark eyes burned into hers. “Celeste, listen to me. You and I, our job is done. Go home. If they want to hurt you, I don’t know that I can stop them.”
    “ I can,” she insisted. “Do you really think I can’t take care of myself?”
    His eyes narrowed. “Because you did so well against Nax.”
    “She caught me by surprise. It won’t happen again.”
    “Dammit, you’re not a fighter. Go . It’s not worth you staying here and risking—”
    “It’s not?” she interrupted, hearing an unaccustomed hard edge in her voice. “What we just shared isn’t worth it, isn’t worth fighting for?”
    “Pointless is what it is. It can never be, don’t you understand? Now go, before I’m forced to send you back myself. And that won’t be pleasant.”
    “Damn you, Damael. I should have known you were nothing but the heartless, merciless, cruel minion of Hell I’ve always taken you for.”
    Something dangerous flared in those eyes. “When have I ever professed differently? Now—”
    Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off