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Wicked Edge Page 8


  Edge walked over to a chair and sat. Then he leaned back, folded his hands behind his head, and stared at Hope.

  His next words dragged Passion’s attention from the way his T–shirt stretched across his broad chest. Not that she was staring at his chest specifically. She had to look somewhere, didn’t she?

  “Are you an angel, Hope?”

  “You don’t have to answer that.” Passion knew she was too late. Because Hope was an angel, a good one. She wouldn’t lie. Unlike you. Well, Passion had never claimed to be a good angel. She questioned too many things and definitely tried the patience of even those whose goodness shown supernova bright.

  Hope dropped her gaze. “Yes.” Her voice was soft and woeful.

  Edge smiled. “Thank you, Hope, for being honest with me.” He slid his gaze to Passion, his expression saying, “Unlike your roommate, who lies through her wings.”

  “We need your help, Hope.”

  His voice was almost gentle with Hope, and the resentment she felt surprised Passion. It shouldn’t matter that he’d never spoken to her like that. Hope was sweet and innocent and anyone would react to that. Passion wasn’t either of those things.

  Hope offered him a small smile. “I don’t know how much help I’d be. I mean, I’m only here to convince the wicked ones at the castle to change their evil ways.” She studied him. “What are you?”

  “I’m a cosmic troublemaker. I cause…trouble. I’m a very, very bad man, but I could be saved if someone took the time and cared enough.”

  Passion felt like growling. Couldn’t Hope see that he was manipulating her?

  Hope looked doubtful that she was up to the job. “I think that Archangel Ted needs to send more angels. This is too big a job for two of us.”

  Edge’s smile widened as he looked at Passion.

  Hope had a big mouth, not that anyone had believed Passion’s story about being a normal human.

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  Without warning, the door swung open, and a chubby gray cat padded into the room. Then he shoved his rump against it, and the door swung shut. “I’ll take it from here. This explanation needs to come from someone with finesse.” Ganymede leaped onto the bed with Hope. “Hey, babe, looking good.”

  Hope shrieked.

  Ganymede glanced at Passion. “Is she always this excitable?”

  “When a cat is talking in her head, she is.”

  Ganymede sat down and began to wash his face. “I don’t think anyone’s done an official intro. I’m Ganymede, and the crazy dude over there is Edge. We’re cosmic troublemakers. You don’t have to worry your cute little head over what that is.”

  Cute little head? Sexist jerk. Passion made sure she shouted in her head so that Fat Cat wouldn’t miss it.

  Ganymede stopped washing his face. “Body shape isn’t an issue here. Besides, women love chubby fur balls. They think I’m cute.”

  Passion snorted her opinion of that.

  Edge exhaled deeply. “Look, let’s get on with this. I’m tired. Having your will sucked from you and almost causing the apocalypse takes a lot out of a guy.”

  Hope shot Passion a desperate glance. Passion shrugged. She didn’t like this idea at all, but if she were honest, having both Ganymede and Edge close would make it easier to start convincing them to choose a better life. Okay, so she wasn’t too optimistic about her chances of success, but she had to try. They were her passport back home. Is that your real reason? She pushed the question aside.

  “Here’s the deal.” The cat sidled closer to Hope. “When you did whatever you did, Edge here calmed down, so we’ve decided that both you ladies should stay with him in the dungeon.” He rolled over onto his back and waited for his tummy to be scratched.

  “In the dungeon?” She sounded a little breathless.

  Passion couldn’t believe it when Hope actually reached out and tentatively rubbed his stomach.

  “It’s built a lot stronger than this room.” Ganymede purred. “Will that be okay? Oh, and I’ll be staying too, because I’ve had twinges of wanting to destroy the universe lately. But I’ll be in this form, which is a lot cuter and less threatening than Edge’s form.”

  Hope was struck speechless, a rare occurrence.

  “Hey, you don’t have to make a decision now, babe. Grab a few things, and we’ll take a look at the dungeon. If you hate it, you can come back here.”

  Passion gathered what she’d need for the night while Hope did the same.

  No one said anything until they were standing in the dungeon. Someone had pushed the torture equipment to the side. There were two air mattresses on the floor along with a lamp beside each, a few chairs, a small coffee table with a hotel phone on it, and a cart with a TV.

  “Where will you sleep?” Passion stared at Edge before glancing around the room. Could they squeeze another mattress in here? Ganymede was a cat. He could sleep anywhere as long as it wasn’t on her bed. That would just be creepy. “Do you need a litter box?” Aimed at Ganymede.

  “I’ll let myself out. If I’m gone for more than a few minutes, check to make sure I’m not whipping up a plague of locusts.” He stared at Passion, and again she had the feeling he was laughing at her. “And I’m a cat. Cats sleep wherever they want to sleep.”

  She gave him slitty eyes.

  “Okay, not on your bed. That work for you?”

  Passion nodded and then looked at Hope. “What do you think? If you don’t want this, say so.” Part of her prayed Hope would refuse. But then she looked at Edge. She really did want to help him. Is that all you want? Maybe she needed to define “help.”

  Silence filled the room as everyone waited for Hope’s decision. It didn’t happen because suddenly the door swung open. Sparkle swayed in, wearing a new pair of stilettos and carrying handcuffs. She kicked the door shut with her foot and then dropped the cuffs onto a chair.

  “I come bearing gifts.” She slanted Ganymede an irritated glance. “Which is more than I can say for the cat. All he brought was his mouth.”

  Ganymede yawned. “My mouth has been good to you. Don’t knock it, sugarbunny.”

  “You were listening at the door.” Edge made it a statement.

  Sparkle widened her eyes. “You thought I wouldn’t? I knew you’d eventually get to this point in the discussion, and when I went to my suite to change shoes—I stepped in chocolate with the others—I found these.” She pointed at the handcuffs. “There’re lots of sexy memories attached to them. They’ll make Hope feel safe.”

  Sparkle focused on Hope. “I don’t think we were ever introduced. I’m Sparkle Stardust. This is my castle.” She smiled. Wickedness shone in that smile. “And you’re absolutely beautiful, so filled with wide-eyed innocence and goodness.” Sparkle’s lids slid almost shut and her expression turned ecstatic. “So much goodness. I can almost taste it. Between you and Passion, I’ve never had so much raw material to mold, to shape into something amazing.”

  Okay, that was creepy. Sparkle made them sound like Play-Doh projects. Passion moved a little closer to Hope. She’d been so focused on the obvious dangers posed by Edge and Ganymede that she hadn’t thought too much about the third cosmic troublemaker in the castle. Maybe she should have.

  Sparkle seemed to mentally shake herself and was once again marginally normal. “I knew that Hope and Passion might be a little nervous about Edge sleeping right there beside—”

  “Not beside me.” Hope was definite about that.

  “No. I already told you not to even think about it.” Passion glared at Sparkle. “He can sleep on the floor if you can’t fit another mattress in here.”

  Edge was starting to show some interest. “I don’t sleep on floors.”

  Hope clutched her clothes to her chest. “I can go back to my room right now.”

  Edge raised one brow as he looked at Passion.

  “You. Will. Not. Sleep. In. My. Bed.” Passion refused to form even one mental picture.

  “See, I knew you�
��d need me.” Sparkle picked up a cuff and shook it.

  Edge’s smile faded. “No. Whatever you have in mind for that, my answer is no.”

  Now it was Passion’s turn to show interest. “Explain.”

  “We used the handcuffs with the chains embedded in the wall on Dacian. They were made to withstand a vampire’s strength. They wouldn’t hold you long, Edge, but if you suddenly got the urge to kill Ganymede in the middle of the night, they’d give you at least two minutes for Hope to do her thing.” She glanced at the stone wall beside one bed. “Attach the cuff to the chain and then click it onto your wrist.” She didn’t meet his gaze.

  “No one chains me to a wall.” Edge leaned forward, his amber eyes almost glowing.

  “I think this is a stupid idea.” Passion forced her thoughts away from the fantasy trying to form in her mind.

  “Yes. I’ll do it.” Hope’s voice was quiet, determined. “Passion, we have to. Think of all those souls we’re responsible for. We can’t just abandon them to death because…because…” She didn’t seem to know where to go after the “because.”

  Passion did. “This whole thing is crazy. If Edge wakes up in the middle of the night with death on his mind, he could kill us before he left to search for Ganymede.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” Edge seemed sure of that. “My killing urge is pretty specific. You saw it. Ganymede was my target. I didn’t try to kill any of you.” Uncertainty touched his eyes. “Did I?”

  Passion looked away. “No.”

  Ganymede was all business. “Then I don’t see a problem.” He padded to the foot of Hope’s bed and settled in. “I sleep late. Don’t make a lot of noise when you get up.” He glanced at Sparkle. “Will you bring a few of my snacks with you in the morning, sugarlump? Don’t want to get up and not have anything to eat.”

  Sparkle’s good humor evaporated. “You bet I will, sugarlump.” She headed for the door. “You know what to do, Edge. The chain is long enough for you to turn over.” She dropped two keys beside the handcuffs. “The small key is for the cuff. The larger one is for Dacian’s door. He and Cinn don’t want to be jumping up and down answering your knocks.” She chanced a quick glance at a furious Edge. “Passion can release you in the morning.” Then she jerked open the door and disappeared into the hall. She slammed the door shut behind her.

  Ganymede looked a little worried. “She’ll think about how mad she is all night. Then she’ll do something I’ll regret.” He looked at Edge. “Do you know what I did wrong?”

  Edge shrugged, his expression thunderous.

  Passion decided to leave Ganymede in the dark. He deserved it.

  Hope stared at Ganymede sprawled across the bottom of her bed. “We have a chain for Edge, but what about if you go crazy?”

  Ganymede looked insulted. “I’m a cat. You don’t chain a cat. Besides, if I feel funny, I’ll yowl and you can bop me in the head. When I come to, you can start talking.” He yawned. “I have to stay in cat form. Sparkle would make all of our lives hell if I slept on the bed in human form.”

  Passion could almost see his furry cat face trying to smile at the thought.

  “I wouldn’t let you sleep in my bed in human form.” Hope was pretty definite about that.

  So where did that leave Passion, the angel-slut of heaven?

  Edge huffed his disgust at the chain. Everyone’s attention snapped to him. He scowled at them. “Time for bed.”

  Passion nodded. She draped her clean clothes over a chair, grabbed her nightgown and robe, and then escaped to Dacian’s shower. She did some deep-breathing exercises while she was in there. Why had she agreed to this? Oh, yeah, she was an angel and it was her duty. Finally, she could stall no longer. Putting on her robe, she opened the bathroom door and scuttled back to the dungeon.

  The room would’ve been completely dark—no windows—if someone hadn’t plugged in a nightlight near the door. She could see the dim outline of Hope. She’d lain down and pulled the covers up to her chin. She was facing away from Passion’s bed. The lump at the foot of her bed was Ganymede.

  Slowly, Passion swung her gaze to her bed. She could see the outline of his tall shape. Edge was lying on his back, and he seemed to fill the whole bed. Passion stared at that shape until the clinking sound of the chain startled her into speech. “Are you comfortable with that chain?”

  “No.” His voice was an irritated growl in the darkness.

  “Oh. Well, let me know when you need time in the bathroom. I’ll get the key to your cuff.” She forced herself to approach her side of the mattress. Taking a deep breath of courage, she slipped onto it and then clung to the edge like an insecure bat.

  His soft chuckle made her feel breathless, whether from fear or something else, she wasn’t sure.

  “I took a shower earlier.” Long pause. “I didn’t get a chance to pick up anything from my room, so I only have the clothes I was wearing.”

  She breathed a little easier. He had his clothes on under the covers.

  “I undressed in the dark.” His voice was a sensual whisper. “Hope was already asleep, so I didn’t offend her angelic innocence.”

  Passion knew he was enjoying every second of this. Evil got a kick out of torturing others. At least he couldn’t reach her with his chain.

  “Sweet dreams, wicked angel.” His soft chuckle seemed awful close.

  She felt his warm breath slide across the sensitive skin behind her ear at the same time his fingers trailed a shivery path down her exposed arm.

  “How long is that chain?”

  6

  Edge laughed softly. How could he find anything funny so soon after his dark thoughts of a few minutes ago? He didn’t know. All he did know was that Passion made him feel better. “The chain is long enough.”

  He lay watching her rigid back for ages before she finally relaxed on a huff of frustration. She flopped onto her back. “I can’t sleep. You make me nervous.”

  He listened before answering. The cat was snoring. He’d have to point out that blemish to Ganymede. He loved punching holes in the cat’s puffed–up sense of self. Hope’s breathing was slow and steady. She was asleep.

  “Anything I can do to make you less nervous?”

  She opened her sexy mouth to answer.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  She closed her mouth.

  He watched her eyes travel over his bared chest down to where the sheet draped across his hips. “And yes, I’m naked. Sorry. That’s the way I sleep.” Not always. But he’d stripped bare before climbing into bed to accomplish exactly what he saw now. Even in the dim glow from the nightlight, he couldn’t miss her blush. Yeah, that was mean of him. He shouldn’t be taking out his anger on one of the two people who’d helped him. But maybe it was better that she learn he was a bastard now than later.

  “Great. I have a naked stranger in my bed.” Her eyes gleamed at him in the darkness. “With a very long chain.”

  “I get the stranger part.” He got the naked part too. “You might be less nervous if you knew a little more about me.” Probably not, though. And where had his offer come from? He never talked about himself if he could help it.

  Her gaze burned a hole in his chest, but his offer seemed to divert her attention. Too bad. He liked the way she looked at his body—with admiration and awakening hunger.

  “Why do you kill?”

  Wow, she went right for the jugular. “It’s what I do. The Big Boss tells me who needs to die, and I take care of it.”

  “Can’t you say no?”

  Self-loathing choked him. He hated being reminded of his position, tried not to think about it. But he’d promised to answer her questions. “I don’t have free will when it comes to my job, just the manner in which I get it done.” Don’t ask anything else.

  “What happens if you say no?” She seemed to be over her nerves. Her eyes shone with curiosity and something more that made him uneasy.

  How to explain this to her. “I’ve never said no.”
/>   She frowned.

  “It’s a compulsion, a knowing that what I’m doing is what I was meant to do. I’ve always understood that I was created for this job.” He tried to explain something to her that he’d never spoken about to anyone else. “If I stopped doing the job, I’d cease to exist.”

  “That’s awful.” She looked horrified.

  He supposed it was, but he’d sort of gotten used to existing, so he didn’t fight it.

  Sympathy gleamed in her eyes.

  “I don’t want your pity.” His voice was harsher than he’d meant it to be, but he hated the idea of her feeling sorry for him. “I don’t mind my job, and over the millennia I’ve learned to make killing into an art form.” There. That should wipe away her sympathy.

  “I understand your anger.” And she reached out to place her palm flat against his chest.

  Edge wanted to deny he was angry and push her hand from his body. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Her touch heated parts of him that had been cold for a very long time. His body absorbed the sensation, and roiling emotions awoke where no emotions were a second ago.

  Lust. He understood it, almost welcomed the uncomplicated familiarity of it. But this wasn’t an ordinary sexual hunger. He wanted her bone deep. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and taste her in every way possible—the flavor of warm woman and heated arousal as he slid his tongue over her bared body, the scent of earth magic rather than heaven, the feel of her smooth skin beneath him, touching his chest, stomach, cock. But beyond that, he wanted to sink into her, merge everything he wasn’t with everything she was.

  The second emotion was a lot more complex. It was a coming home to a man who knew no home, the healing of a wound none could possibly reach because he’d hidden it so well. And it terrified him. Anyone who could cause this feeling was dangerous. He rolled onto his back, and her hand fell away.

  “The Big Boss doesn’t beat us into submission.” As a joke it fell flat. “He just reminds me once in a while that Death is who I am. It’s my reason for existing. Can’t argue with the facts.”

  “But millions of people die every day. You can’t be responsible for each one.”