“Wha—”

Wrath marched into the chamber, hands on his hips as he scowled at the interior.

Sharing a chamber while the lust seal played havoc on them seemed like an extremely dangerous idea to her. A tempting idea, but a very dangerous one.

“Of course.” Apassionata’s full mouth quirked. “You are, as always, Lord Wrath, an absolute delight.”

Wrath glared at the door until Apassionata shut it behind him. “Shade needs to watch that one. Far too clever for his own good.”

“I like him.” Haziel examined the room. Through a bank of floor to ceiling glass, the jungle had been turned into a pirate’s treasure of colors by the setting sun. The largest bed she’d ever seen graced the center of the room in a proliferation of jewel-colored hangings and pillows. The bed invited you to spend the rest of your days in its depth. And brought Haziel back to the first order of business. “I’m sorry about all these delays.”

Whirling, Wrath closed the distance between then.

Her back hit the wall.

Wrath kept coming until he had her caged by his hard body in the front and his muscular arms on either side of her head. “I was the one who injured your wing.”

“But I delayed you at Ava’s.” She should tell him to stop and step back, but she couldn’t lie. She didn’t want him to do either of those things. Whether it was the seal or her disturbing obsession with him, Haziel delighted in the sheer audacity of his presumption.

“I left you there. It was up to me to bring you safely back.” He pressed closer until she could feel every hard line of him against her.

Her body delighted in the sensations. She drew in his scent of sage and leather. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can’t help myself.” Wrath lowered his mouth to within a breath of hers. “And I really don’t want to anymore.”

Neither did Haziel. She raised her chin and met his molten stare. “Kiss me.”

On a groan, Wrath closed the distance between their lips.

Prepared for a full-frontal assault, she was surprised by the featherlight caress of his lips. Wrath took his time drawing her lower lip into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. He released her lip with a moist plop. “You kiss me.”

Pure, unadulterated lust swept through her. It could be the seal, or it could be her feelings for him, but Haziel didn’t care to question. Gripping the back of his head, she took his tempting mouth like a marauder. Her tongue slid past his pillowy lips into the heated cavern beyond.

Wrath tensed and then he kissed her back.

Kiss was such a tame description for the way he took her mouth. He possessed her with lips, tongue, and teeth, taking and demanding, giving and surrendering.

His hair was like silk between her fingers; he tasted like pure temptation. Her body grew warm and pliant, and she pressed into his iron strength. His hard cock pressed into her belly in a blatant reminder of where a kiss like this led.

She wanted it all. All of him.

Holding her head, Wrath deepened the kiss until her head swum and she was a panting, writhing mess trying to get closer to him and all that he offered.

And then Wrath pulled back. Heat stained his cheekbones, and his breath came in harsh pants. “You’re right,” he rasped.

“What?” Haziel didn’t want to talk. She wanted his mouth on hers, his body driving into her.

“This is a bad idea. This is not the right time.” Wrath took a deep breath and stepped away from her. “And when I fuck you, Haziel, I want you to have no doubt about whether it’s me acting because I want you, or that fucking seal making us both crazy.”

Chapter Twenty

Deep within the womb of creation, it stirred. So long dormant, the being did not recognize what was happening at first. Around it, its siblings still slumbered, but their eternal rest was fitful, as if they felt it too.

The summoning.

The awakening.

The end of days.

And the being remembered its name. It was Pestilence, and it rode its white steed with a crown upon its head, and a bow in its hands. It was the first of the harbingers of the end of days, and it felt the calling to it and its siblings—the breaking of the seals.

Dee didn’t want to like Daniel Lee, but her abiding sin was being a pushover for a pretty face and a kickass body, and Daniel Lee had both. As well as being a thoroughly pleasant and easy guest. She’d finally caved and cleared out the spare bedroom in the living area from years of old programs and posters and let him move into it. He already shared most meals with her, and bless his heart, ate her cooking as if he enjoyed it. So, it didn’t seem too much of a concession to get him to pack up his sleeping bag and take over the unused bed.

As far as the guardianship went, he was winning points there as well. He consulted rather than sidelined her and often deferred to her experience. Unlike a lot of men she’d encountered, he was quite happy to take her advice as well.

They’d taken to having an unofficial meeting every morning in the basement to keep an eye on the hell gate together and decide between them on the best course of action. Most days, he made the coffee for their meeting.

Dressed in faded jeans and a snug white T-shirt, he divided his attention between the hell gate and the app on his phone. “It seems relatively stable.”

“It did before it started coughing up rakshassa demons and imps.” Dee had to work to keep the acidity in her tone.

Daniel threw her a sweet smile. “True. It’s a tricky son of bitch to be sure.”

Jean-Claude had sent her a message a few days ago. He’d found a group of people and joined a hike in Alaska. She shouldn’t have been hurt by his defection. She certainly didn’t love him, and was, at best, fond of him, but her ego smarted nonetheless. Dee left her men. They didn’t leave her. After Rosabella’s father had headed for the hills and taken her heart with him, she’d sworn never again. It had been surprisingly easy to keep her promise as well.

“You all right?” Daniel studied her.

Dee buckled into her emotional armor and wiped any expression off her face. “Of course. What would be the matter with me?”

“I don’t know.” Daniel shrugged, but kept that dark, compassionate gaze on her. When Rosabella had first left Eddie with her, she’d been resentful. She’d raised her daughter and didn’t want to be raising someone else’s child. It had taken little Eddie mere days to help her overcome that. She adored her granddaughter and related to her in a way that she never had with Rosabella. Perhaps if she’d been closer to Rosabella, a better mother, Rosabella would have been different.

“With Eddie still missing, I can’t imagine how difficult that must be for you,” Daniel said.

The unwelcome worry and grief taking up residence in her chest gave a vicious twist. Rosabella being here wasn’t helping either. With Daniel in the spare room, Rosabella had taken over Eddie’s bedroom. It used to be hers when she still lived here, but Dee resented her presence in there. Mostly, she resented Rosabella’s constant demands for information and veiled accusations that if Dee had done a better job of looking after Eddie, she wouldn’t be missing now. Those accusations had wriggled beneath Dee’s guard, and she lay awake at night tormenting herself with what ifs. What if she’d been more open with Eddie about the hell gate? Given her the information she needed. What if she’d told Eddie about her father? Maybe Wrath could have protected her better or even taught her how to use her Nephilim power. But like she always told Eddie, you can’t change the past by wishing it that way. “Yeah. I’m worried sick about her. Wrath couldn’t find her in hell, and we’ve heard nothing more from Shade. Sophia checked in to say she’s traveling with him, but they have nothing concrete yet.”

“This is all so hard on you.” Daniel shook his head. “You were more like a mother to her than a grandmother.” A roguish grin turned his face boyish. “Not that anyone would guess you are a grandmother.”

Was he flirting with her? Well, he could cut that out. She didn’t have time for young, pretty diversions right now. All hell was literally breaking loose, and her granddaughter was caught in the vortex. When Sophia last reported in, it was with the tantalizing hope that the hounds were still on Eddie’s scent.

But still no Eddie.

Bollocks, but she wanted Eddie back here, safe and sound, where she could first shake the life out of her for worrying her grandmother half to death and then hold her like she never intended to let her go.

She felt stripped to her soul by Daniel’s compassion, and she needed to get away. “I’m going to…er…go and do my yoga. Meditate,” she tacked on in case that sounded heartless. Not that she cared what this boy thought of her.