that carried warmth and possibly a teasing note.
“This is who was at the door, and you let them in, Romeo?”
“They have someone with them and it seemed rude to turn them away.” The angel. The female had called him by another name, speaking it in a voice laced with affection.
The angel was the half-demon’s mate.
She had never thought she would see a union between two creatures of the opposing realms.
Nevar reached the top step and looked back at her. “Don’t flip out. Einar will not lay a finger on you.”
She nodded and followed him into the brightly lit room. Old paintings in gilded frames hung on the deep red walls and furniture cluttered it despite the expansive size. A fire burned in the grate directly across from her and two long dark sofas formed a line to her with a wooden table between them. Weapons covered almost every inch of the furniture, including half of one of the couches, and one resided in the dark-haired woman’s hand.
She was beautiful, her elegant figure clad in tight black trousers similar to the ones Lysia wore and an even tighter black t-shirt that accentuated the size of her breasts. The woman’s blue eyes found her and she smiled.
“Nice wings,” Taylor said and came forwards, brushing past her mate and stopping very close to Lysia.
The woman ran a hand down Lysia’s left wing and she couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up her throat.
Nevar raised a silver-white eyebrow at her, as if he had been expecting a different reaction. She frowned at him. She had no reason to attack the half-demon. The woman hadn’t meant her any harm by touching her wings. She had merely been curious.
“Do you know of her kind?” he said.
Taylor pinned him with a cold stare. “
Her
? Does she not have a name?”
He looked down at Lysia and a flicker of guilt crossed his handsome face. “I had meant to ask her when I first met her but Asmodeus interrupted. It slipped my mind today. What is your name?”
“Lysia.”
He released her hand and looked her over, his jade eyes taking her in from head to toe, heating her down to her marrow. They roamed back up her body to her face and locked with hers.
“I should have guessed you would have a beautiful name,” he murmured in a low voice with a half-smile that reached his eyes.
Taylor made a retching noise.
Lysia gasped. “Are you unwell?”
Taylor stared at her blankly.
Nevar sighed. “She asked if you were sick.”
The dark-haired beauty laughed. “No. Just… I’ve only met Nevar a couple of times and didn’t have him pegged as a poet.”
He snarled and flashed his emerging fangs at the woman, the skin around his eyes turning black as they switched to violet.
Lysia preferred them like that. They made her feel they were kindred spirits, connected somehow.
“So what’s her name?” Taylor looked across at Nevar. “Because Einar was right and I haven’t a clue what she said. It sounded like gobbledygook.”
“Lysia,” Nevar said.
“So, Lysia, how does it feel to be lumped with two blokes who don’t even bother to ask you your name?” Taylor caught Lysia’s arm and pulled her further into the room. “Bet it charmed the pants off you. Come on. Take a pew and let’s get a good look at you.”
Lysia stumbled along behind her, struggling to comprehend half of what the woman was saying. She threw Nevar a pleading look and he sighed again.
“Less slang, more words from a dictionary,” he said and followed her.
Taylor made a rude gesture to him and sat on one of the long dark couches. Nevar took hold of Lysia’s shoulders and guided her down onto the one opposite the half-demon, and sat to her right. The seat was comfortable. Perhaps a little soft for her taste. She felt as if she might sink into it.
The half-demon scrutinised her, her blue eyes slowly narrowing as her perusal went on, flicking over every inch of her and leaving no part unstudied.
“Where are you from?” Taylor said.
“She said she was born of