Free Domiel by Dawn McClure Page A

enough to the dance floor to move fast when a kick-ass song blared through the massive speakers. Funny how things changed. God, quit thinking about it.
    Domiel had been acting strange ever since her minor meltdown. Even now, among the humans, he threw off a protective vibe directed right at her. Funny thing was, she kind of liked it.
    When they commandeered a tall table with four stools, both took seats so their backs were to the wall. As she settled into the stool, her thigh brushed against his. She’d sparred with him so many times on the training mats, the contact should have passed with no thought whatsoever. This time the contact felt intimate.
    She pulled her thigh from his, wondering why in the hell it mattered. “Why were you fantasizing about me?”
    Instead of making him uncomfortable, he only shrugged. “You’re strong. Sexy. What’s not to fantasize about?”
    And yet he hadn’t even raised his eyebrows back at the house. “The red hair?”
    “Personal preference.”
    He was completely without emotion when he spoke about his fantasy involving her wearing an apron and go-go boots. Or was it just that he hid his emotions better than most? The personal preference toward red hair pissed her off. “Okay. So you don’t like my blond hair?”
    “Did I say that?”
    “Is the phone ringing yet?” She’d pulled away from physical intimacy only to strike up an intimate conversation. She took a healthy drink of her vodka. Maybe the booze would trigger some common sense.
    He pressed her. “Why do you care?”
    He was actually serious. “I don’t.”
    His fun personality and the fact that no one could keep him interested outside of the sack had all the women in the Alliance begging for his attention. As the newest addition to the alpha males of the Alliance, he’d been labeled fresh meat. For many, he was the one that got away. For a few he’d been a notch in their bedposts. For all he’d been unattainable beyond the bedroom—or closet, kitchen, wherever and whenever the mood struck him. That type of challenge made the fresh meat even tastier, especially for the tough, wicked women of the Alliance. If she wasn’t mistaken, a few of them had made bets on him. No one had won yet.
    He took a healthy swig of his beer. “The day I came to collect Jade’s soul for her transition, I stood over her body while she fought to stay alive. As I waited for her to take her last breath, so I could locate her silver cord and sever it, Samael begged me to spare her life, as though I had that power. He knew I couldn’t control when a person’s time in this realm was up, and yet he begged because he didn’t know what else to do. When I decided to give Jade my angelic blood, I didn’t do it for him. I did it to experience what he was willing to give up for her. His life. His soul. What would make a person do that?”
    Where in the hell had that come from? How’d they go from talking about fantasies to serious questions about life?
    She took a decent chug of her drink and figured what the hell? Listening to Domiel speak of Jade’s near-death experience, and his part in it, gave him an edge with her. He’d saved one of her friends. Why he’d brought it up, she couldn’t guess and didn’t feel the need to analyze.
    “You’ve never loved someone to the point you’d give your own life for theirs? Trade your happiness for theirs?” She’d never really thought about it before. Once you came to care for someone, those things just fell into place. Hell, she’d placed herself in front of Jade and Lexie many times before, when weapons threatened to bring them down. They’d done the same for her.
    “No.”
    The swift way he’d answered her was telling in itself, but his eyes told another story. What made him care? Who made him care? “Don’t angels feel anything?”
    “Most do, yes. Feelings for others are not dormant, as lust is. My job was demanding. I had to shut out the begging and the pleas of the humans and