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“She can drag out your deepest fears in a dream. Use them against you. Get information from your mind. Without proper mind protection, even kill you with the fear dreams she creates,” Fable explained with a tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “No surprise though, she couldn’t manage that much with you.”
Nice of Nova to never mention it.
I absently wondered if it was similar to his illusions. The storm had been there, the rain, the ocean—Nova in all his beautiful glory. But then again, Fable said she dragged out a person’s fears, so were those all mine? The water? The storm? Nova? Falling in love…and then dying because of it?
Fuck you, Lucifer. This is way too much excitement for the morning after banging some strange angel and drinking my weight in booze.
I was lucky my brain even powered its way through thoughts with the relentless pound overtaking my head and how mushy it felt to move and think. But as I peeked at the angel still fussing over me, I was distracted by the indigo color of his epic feather spread changing to an elusive purple.
Confused, I pointed at his wings. “Are your feathers changing colors, or am I still drunk?” I murmured grumpily, smacking his hands away when he tried to maneuver my head in a way that made it hurt like I’d taken a bowling ball to my skull. “Hands off, pretty asshole. I need pain medication if you’re going to jostle me around like a damn toy.”
Sadly, my propensity towards healing didn’t cover hangovers. Don’t ask me why because hell if I knew how it all worked. Selective healing was a bitch, and so were selective super-demon powers while we were on the topic.
“Sorry about that, Lady. Lucky for you, I can heal super minor wounds,” he bragged like it was cool shit and not the saddest thing he’d said yet.
“Super minor wounds, huh?” I taunted with a sly grin.
Fable’s laughing eyes landed on me. “Not all I can do with my hands, but you already know that.”
He would find a way to make this annoyingly sexual, but I was presently occupied with the pain of a thousand bad choices.
I held my head in my hands and waited out another nasty throb. Sighing, the massive angel leaned forward with his hands out and glowing again before the pain in my head eased, then disappeared altogether. I might find the angel seven levels of obnoxious, but he was damn good with his hands—in a lot of ways—I’d give him that.
“To answer your other question, our wings change color depending on our mood,” he went on conversationally like we were talking about the weather and not a supernatural creature’s fucking wings. Finally, he dropped his luminous gaze to me. “Thankfully, it seems like Lucifer didn’t secure a connection with you. I don’t sense her at all. No disrespect, sweetheart, but you continue to impress me. Your raw talent for defending yourself is amazing.”
Missing that last bit, I slid my eyes over to the jerk, smirking. “Mood wings? How utterly adorable.”
Throwing his head back in an explosive laugh, the angel’s wings disappeared and he rose to his full height, dick swinging. “I hadn’t even thought of that, you clever minx. Mood wings. Classic.”
“Put that weapon of mass destruction away before you break something,” I ordered, pointing to the appendage that I could still feel in my lower waist. I collected my clothes like an angry gremlin and ignored the pang of interest between my legs at the mere sight of the naked angel and his…girth. Clearly, my kitty remembered just how close to breaking me that weapon had gotten.
Fuck my new sexual appetite.
Fable’s laughter followed my quick movements to get dressed and I rolled my eyes, already regretting all of Drunk Lady’s choices. Once I’d gotten my clothes on, I rounded on the angel with a vengeance. “Did you ever meet her?”
“Who?”
Folding my arms against my now-clothed chest, I dead-eyed the asshole. “Lucifer, stupid.”
Fable donned a pair of pants, saving me another eyeful, and crossed his arms with a sexy little grin. “Already lavishing me with pet names? You’re always so sweet, darling.”
I walked the short distance over to him, putting our bodies inches from each other. It was meant to come across as intimidating, but one whiff of his familiar musk and my body throbbed with the memory of our night together.
Damn you, Drunk Lady.
“Yesterday was a one-time deal, asshole. I was drunk. You were there. Things happened. Big fucking deal. Now you’re going to tell me if you met Lucifer and what the fuck cleansing is.”
The big man sucked in a breath through his nose, then sighed wistfully with a smile. “That angry tone is just…ugh.”
I eyed the door, ready to get my bat, but the angel had me by the shoulders before I could. “Yes, I’ve seen Lucifer. And yes, she looks like you. I’m sure that’s what you were going to ask next. She probably came to you in that fear dream is my guess. She’s a mean-ass bitch, and she likes to watch her prey squirm.”
I schooled my face, refusing to show how his words had gotten to me. Instead, I smacked both of his offensive hands with spite, then moved out of his reach and re-crossed my arms. “And cleansing?”
Fable carded through his dark locks before nodding. “Alright. You got me by the balls, Lady. To put it simply, cleansing is the act of purifying a soul of its corruption. In this case, Nova’s.”
From all the secrecy around cleansing, there had to be more to it than that, so I waited with a glare trained on the angel.
“Fuck, you’re terrifying. I love it,” Fable whispered with a smile.
