Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (3 page)

Something shimmered beside me.

I stifled a scream and flew back, tripping
over the chair I'd wedged in front of the door. I kept falling. I
was going to hit the floor.

Light flashed around me like a thousand
crystals sparkling in the sun. I tried to breathe slowly. My head
didn't hurt. My back didn't ache. And something, with a touch too
slight to be real, held me.

I looked up. The angel still wore a white
shirt and jeans. His wings were hidden, and though he didn't glow,
his skin possessed a luminescent sheen. It reminded me of the
surface of a pearl. I wanted to touch it to see if it was just as
smooth.

Wait, what was I thinking? I didn't want to
touch this thing. I didn't want it anywhere near me. I pounded the
angel's chest. "Get off me!"

He lifted me effortlessly. As he stood, my
lips brushed against his neck. His skin was just as smooth as a
pearl--no, even smoother and cooler.

I shuddered as he set me on my feet.

"You were falling," the angel said.

No, really?
I stepped back hesitantly. "Oz, is he really going
to follow me
everywhere
?"

"Hey, why don't you sit by me?"

I spun around. Oz had the
same cheesy,
guilty
smile painted on his face he'd worn when I first entered the
room. "Don't try to change the subject," I said.

He looked longingly at Beauty, then picked
her up and folded her in his arms.

My stomach flipped. This couldn't be good.
You had to be desperate to use a princess pillow as a shield. "I
don't want to answer that question."

The angel stepped towards me. He raised his
hand to my cheek and, for an agonizing second, I thought he would
touch me. "Devi, I will never leave your side."

I wanted to scream. "Is he serious?"

"Hey," Oz said again, and patted the space
next to him on the bed as if calling over a cat.

Unlike a cat, I actually did what he asked
and sat by his side. "It's true, isn't it?"

Oz rubbed my shoulders.

It was as I feared. He wouldn't even look me
in the eyes. "I can't believe you. You're taking all of this way
too well."

"And why is that?" Oz asked.

I snatched Beauty from him and wrung her in
my hands. Her face twisted, and it looked like I was seeing her
through a fun house mirror. It was kind of creepy, so I handed her
back to Oz. "Just think about it for a second! With him around all
the time, how are we going to...you know..."

Oz squeezed Beauty, giving her dimples in her
eyes and teeth. "How are we going to 'you know'?"

I crossed my legs. His voice
was so low and quiet, and the way he'd unconsciously licked his
lips before he spoke made his words seem dirty. But then again,
hadn't I meant it to be
those things
when I said it?

I glanced at the angel. He
was staring at me. He'd probably been staring at me this entire
time.
Him
even
being in the room while we talked like this was so wrong.
Him
watching was--ugh, I
didn't even allow myself to think about it. "Oz, you know what I
mean. I just don't feel comfortable."

He rested his hand on my lower back. I could
feel his fingers spread over the area of skin my shirt didn't quite
cover. He leaned in closer, eyes almost black. "I didn't know you
wanted to 'you know'," he whispered.

He gazed at the vein throbbing in my neck. I
think I would have fallen over if his hand hadn't been holding me
still. I curled my toes and looked down, straight into a bloody
cartoon smile.

That snapped me out of it.
Thank God Beauty was between us. "It's not just 'you know' that I'm
talking about, but all of those things, you know?" Jesus, I'd said
'you know'
again
!
My lips quirked and a high sound escaped my throat. I wasn't sure
if I was laughing or crying. Why couldn't I think? There were
plenty of other euphemisms I could use that didn't make me sound
like I was twelve.

So I decided to be mature and took the
initiative. "Oz, let's not refer to it as 'you know' anymore."

He touched my hand lightly. Perhaps he was
afraid, or just being respectful. "I'll stop once I know what 'you
know' is, exactly."

"
You
know
what it is!" I laughed. "Now you're
just making fun of me."

He grinned. "I'm not making fun--just
enjoying myself." He lowered his voice. "And I don't know, which
makes it more thrilling, for some reason."

"All I'm trying to say is, how are we going
to, you know--ugh!" I buried my head between my legs. "I can't
believe I said it again."

Oz laughed and patted my back. I wondered how
he could stand hanging around me. I mean, the angel didn't really
have a say in the matter, but Oz did.

I lifted my head slowly. His eyes were wide,
dewy and tender, like I'd just done something unbelievably
cute.

Well, I at least agreed with
the 'unbelievable' part. I contemplated holding the Beauty pillow
over my face like a mask and continuing the conversation that way.
"Alright, I am having a really hard time talking about this
while
that thing
is
here. I mean, how am I supposed to make out with my boyfriend while
an angel is standing there in the corner, watching us?"

The angel cleared his
throat.
Please, please don't share tips on
how to make out with my boyfriend in front of you.

He didn't.

But unfortunately what he said was even
worse.

"You're always being watched, Devi. Even if I
wasn't here, God would be watching."

At that second, a little part of me died. All
I wanted to do was close my eyes and never wake up; all I could do
was stare at the angel as he stared back.

Oz fell back on the bed, groaning as he
rubbed his temples. "Camael, don't talk anymore."

"Did he just say what I think he said?" I
asked, voice hoarse.

His lips curled into a demonic grin. My heart
started pounding in my chest, but before I had time to dash away he
pulled me down next to him. Then he grabbed the blankets bunched up
at the foot of the bed and threw them over us.

"You're not going to attack me, are you?" I
asked.

He inched closer--so close, in fact, that I
could feel his lips smiling as he laughed. It tickled a bit. "Not
unless you want me to."

Did I? I twisted my hands together. Breathing
was difficult. So was thinking. And Beauty wouldn't save me now. I
couldn't see anything in the dark, though I had no trouble feeling
the heat from his body.

"Hold on, I need something." I threw off the
blankets and breathed deeply. Even though I wasn't under the covers
with him anymore, my nerves were still acting up. Oz's soft fingers
lingered over my hand, silently begging to caress it. And I wanted
him to. I wanted--

I opened my eyes and saw the angel perched on
the little wooden children's chair near the door.

He'd turned off the overhead light. Moonlight
collected on his silhouette, making him glow and bleed into the
silver-looking walls of my room. He did not fit in with the mundane
surroundings of my suburban home--thrift store clothes stored in
heaping piles on the floor, cheap genre books with well-worn
spines, and scattered papers containing scribbled poems I'd
abandoned half way through.

I felt some strange desire to offer him a
blanket, even though he didn't look cold, and probably lacked the
ability to even feel cold. Maybe it was just due to the memory of
his skin, cool as polished stone.

I reached down into the space next to the
bedside table and grabbed my flashlight, then dashed under the
sheets. "This is better," I stammered. Then I glanced at Oz, and
forgot all about the angel.

He looked like one of those unattainable bad
boys in grungy clothes that designer companies photograph to sell
expensive jeans and cologne. Those models were usually on a beach
at midnight, or on the floor of a hotel room in Paris, but this one
was in my bed. And he was staring at me so intensely that the only
words that came to my mind were 'demon in the sack.'

"What are you smiling about?" He
murmured.

I bit my lip. I just couldn't tell him. He'd
enjoy it too much.

"I used to read with this when I was a kid."
I held the flashlight under my chin. "My brother and I would hold
it under our faces, just like this, and take turns telling
stories."

He raised his eyebrows, so I raised mine too.
So what if I didn't exactly answer his question? I'd still told him
something true. No way was I going to utter the phrase 'demon in
the sack' aloud to the demon in the...

He scooted closer. "Devi, what is it?"

I looked down. Not a smart
move, since the light from the flashlight beamed straight into my
eyes. I winced. "The angel is out there," I whispered.
And even though I know that, I can't stop thinking
about things I shouldn't.

Oz lifted the flashlight out of my hands,
placed it under his chin and smiled, destroying his sexy,
demon-in-the-sack look and replacing it with the
creepy-bedtime-stories-from-a-demon by-the-campfire look.

"Hey!" I laughed, snatching it back. "Why did
you take it?"

He wrapped his hand around mine and brought
it towards his chest. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss
me, but he was only interested in positioning the flashlight under
his chin. "I needed to light my face up before saying something.
Isn't that how you said it worked?"

"That's just--"

He put a finger over my mouth, stopping me.
"No, you can't say anything until you have the light."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, though I think if we
keep passing it back and forth like this I'm probably going to get
a seizure."

He sighed and brushed my cheeks with his
thumb. "Your eyes are tearing up a bit." Then, more softly: "Are
you still thinking about the angel?"

"It's kind of hard not to," I grumbled,
glaring at the blankets above us.

He smiled. "I know a place you can go where
he can't follow."

"Really? Like
The Church of Elvis
?"

He chuckled. "That might
actually work, but it's not what I had in mind." He ran a finger up
my arm. "I was talking about
Morrison's
."

Images of sagging gutters and clogged drains
waltzed through my mind. Oh yeah, and books, both good and
bad...but mostly bad. Yeah, I could see why an angel wouldn't want
to hang out there.

"Forneus made a charm," Oz murmured.

I froze. "The poppet," I whispered.

He nodded.

"So
you
were the one who hung up that doll
decked out in pins and bloody feathers."

He bit his lip, I think to stop from
laughing. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It is! It's totally creepy. I can't believe
you have any customers...or maybe I can believe it, since most of
them are old men with saltine crumbs in their beards who walk
around looking at their shoes."

"Don't forget the cute girls
who spend hours shuffling through the 35 cent racks to unearth gems
like
Sweet Savage
Sentiments
."

My body burned. I wanted to
throw off my sheets and take a deep breath of cool air, but
couldn't because the angel was out there.
Watching
. "Alright, that does it.
You're no longer spending the night."

He sucked in a breath. "You were going to let
me spend the night?"

My toes curled as his eyes went wide.
"Maybe," I responded. "I mean, I was thinking about it before." I
giggled, and it sounded a bit hysterical. "I thought you couldn't
talk without the flashlight."

He touched my shoulder. "Well, you did it
once. I guess that was my free pass."

He leaned in closer to the
light, and our faces were just inches away from each other. "You
have to let me stay," he said. "Who else will to whisper
'sweet,
savage
dreams' in your ear before you fall asleep?"

I recoiled in horror. "That does it. You're
not staying. Something like that would give me nightmares for
weeks."

Oz tilted his head to the
side. "Let me stay, Devi," he said, in a voice reverent and
pleading. Blood rushed through me, making me giddy.
Alright
. My lips fell
open, ready to say it.

And then he flashed another
sinful grin and ruined the moment. "I won't say anything more
that's,
you know
,
sweet or savage."

"Right." I tried to glare, but I couldn't
stop myself from smiling. "I'm going to regret this in the
morning."

Every part of his face relaxed except the
center of his forehead, making him look serious and distant. "I
hope not. I don't want you to ever regret anything, especially the
things you do with me."

Every cell in my body buzzed softly, like a
hundred white butterflies trembling before taking flight, all
because he was beside me. I placed my palm on his chest, felt his
heart race. My limbs ached. Each heartbeat in my own chest felt
strained, as if it were held together by strings that were snapping
one by one. And my lips smiled until my cheeks hurt. He'd be here
until--

I turned my head into the pillow.

"Are you still thinking about the angel?"

I sighed. "No, but thanks for reminding
me."

"What is it, then?"

I don't want to tell you. I
want us to stay like this, forever
. I
glanced at him--at his warm skin and beautiful, familiar green
eyes--and unconsciously I spoke the fears I'd hidden: "I don't
think I'll ever be able to enjoy a simple moment with you again
without thinking about--"
How I am destined
to kill you because you love me
.