I shake my head. My entire body goes stiff and I try to lift myself, but Anna has ahold of me, and she’s whimpering for more like a needy little vixen.

I have to momentarily close my eyes against the sight of her.

“We can’t,” I whisper.

“Kai?” The sound of the surprise and hurt in her voice kills me. I want to give her what she wants—what we both want.

It’s time to stop.

I want so badly to ignore this stupid fucking feeling of intuition, or whatever the hell it is, and take this girl with every ounce of strength in my body, but I don’t dare. I’ve never had a feeling this strong and clear. When I attempt to move off her, she tightens her hold around my waist. Her back arches underneath me again, lifting her hips to mine in the most agonizing way. I am about to lose all control.

“Damn it, Ann, please! Don’t. Move.”

Our gazes collide, and we’re both panting with unsated need. She’s gorgeous and so bloody hot for me that I have to look away.

And move. Quickly. I get my arse off the bed, and immediately that overpowering sense of intuition leaves me, and it’s just me and the beast. Scorching pain racks me from thigh to stomach, and my head gives a giant throb. I grab my hair, pacing—I can’t stay still. What have I done to myself? It feels as if I might die. I try to shake away the excruciating headache that makes me barely able to open my eyes, but it’s no use.

“You don’t want me.” Anna’s small voice shoots straight through my ears and down to my core, making me groan with animalistic longing. Her eyes water and she looks lost.

Can she not see how I want to ravish her like the devil I am? I like to think of the beast and myself as separate entities, but I’m fooling myself. We are one and the same. Right now I want to give in to my darkest urges, throwing caution and gentleness aside, shredding every scrap of cloth between us, and overpowering her body with mine to see how loud her sweet voice can get.

“Don’t do that,” I struggle to say. “That was the single most difficult thing I’ve done in my entire life.”

I stand, trying to clear my head.

“I don’t understand, then,” she whispers.

No, no she doesn’t. And neither do I.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? And don’t think for a second I don’t want you—” I push my knuckles against my pounding forehead. “But it shouldn’t be like this.”

“Like what?” she asks.

Everything is wrong. I don’t even know how to explain it. I’m so bloody frustrated. Why is she asking me these questions? Is she blind to the kind of person she is, and the kind I am? None of this is good enough for her.

“Uncommitted,” I say. “In a hotel room.”

“Then commit.” Her voice is resolute. As if it’s that simple.

I throw my arms out, at a loss. “I can’t!” That is not my life, and will never be. She can try to slum it with me all she wants, and fool herself into thinking it’s okay, but I know the difference between us. Eventually, she will, as well.

“I’m not taking your virginity,” I tell her. “You would regret it.”

I lean my forehead against the wall, but the pain in my gut is too powerful to stand. I turn and slide to the floor, elbows on my knees, face in my hands. My abdomen contracts in anger as I force myself to breathe.

I hope she understands. I hope she can forgive me and move on with her life, realizing how narrowly she escaped being ruined by the biggest bastard she’ll ever meet. I will take her to that convent and then we must go our separate ways. She and Patti can move to the middle of nowhere and she can attempt to live in peace. It’s good that we didn’t have sex—this way she’ll be able to forget about me, and she’ll be okay.

I look up at her, feeling a sliver of hope for her, and that’s when I see it.

She’s staring right at me, and floating around her body like a grand cotton-candy swirl is the pink of love. For half a second my heart rejoices—she loves me. And then I realize . . . I’ve ruined her anyhow.

I shut my eyes and lose all energy.

In a perfect world I would stand and take her in my arms. In a perfect world I would be her stupid boyfriend and make love to her all night without worry. In a perfect world I’d tell her the words I’ve been too afraid to admit to my own self.

As quickly as my heart swells, it seizes in terror. Anna doesn’t know the stories of Neph who fell in love and attempted secret relationships, only to be executed in horrific public displays as warnings to other Neph.

I will not allow that to happen to Anna.

I hear her moving about the room but cannot bear to open my eyes yet. When the phone rings I still don’t move, but I listen to her conversation.

Holy shite. The nun is dead.

CHAPTER TEN

One-Way Flight

“I’m the devil’s son straight out of hell, and you’re an angel with a haunted heart.

If you were smart you’d run and protect yourself, from a demon living in the dark.”

—“Save Yourself” by My Darkest Days

I’m not accustomed to hanging around once things get awkward. I know Anna expects me to say something, but I can’t. I take her to the convent to get whatever this nun has left her, and then take her back to the hotel room. We sit on her bed and I use my knife to open the box. I won’t lie, I’m dying of curiosity—but what we find inside takes me completely by surprise.

I stare down at the shimmering hilt. Every major pulse point in my body is pounding erratically. This cannot be what I think it is. . . .

“May I?” I ask.

“Go ahead.” She nods toward the mysterious sword hilt.

I pick it up with care, and it’s warm in my hands. The metal feels solid, but just under the surface it seems to swirl as if made of liquid.

Blood slams inside my ears and head. “I don’t believe it,” I whisper.

“What?” Anna asks. “What is it?”

Could it be a heavenly relic? I quickly drop it back into the box and close my hands into fists. Anna reaches for it, and the second her fingers touch it she gasps and yelps, yanking her hand away as if she’s been stung. This confirms everything I need to know.

“What is this thing?” She stares at it with distrust.

“It clearly wasn’t forged on earth. I think— But it’s impossible. A Sword of Righteousness?” Saying the words out loud sends a wave of cold over me. I’ve heard tales of these weapons, but I’ve never heard of one being on earth.

“What’s that?” she asks in awe.

“They were used by the angels in the war of the heavens.” Used by angels, feared by demons.

“But why is she giving it to me?” Anna asks.

Why, indeed? Was this nun truly human?

“Only the angels of light could use them. The old legends say the blade will appear when needed if the wielder is pure of heart. Anna . . . it’s the only known weapon that can take out a demon spirit.”

We stare at each other, and her eyes are wide when she asks again, “And why is she giving it to me?”

Isn’t it obvious? Anna is good and pure and full of innocence, like an angel. The Sword of Righteousness reacted to her touch. But in my sordid hands it was useless. There have always been major differences between us, but in this moment it’s as if stone barriers are erected around her.

OFF-LIMITS.

She is destined for something I cannot fathom. Something I could easily ruin if I stay near her. Today I had a freak moment of strength, but I can’t guarantee that will ever happen again. I need to get her to safety, away from me.

Her eyes have gone a bit foggy with shock.

“I need to clear my head,” I say absently as I grab my wallet and keys. I give Anna instructions to call Patti on the room phone, and I rush out.