I could get rid of that memory in the pouring rain, when I’d wrapped my legs around him and fought to get more of him. The memory of the climax that had shattered me, thrummed through my body in waves as he’d slowly released me.

And the Nightmen had come.

It would be the wise thing to do. I could remember other sex, unsatisfactory sex with humans, and maybe that was part of my curse. Though wasn’t Lilith supposed to arouse men? And I had, but not for myself. I’d aroused them for their wives, for the babies that hadn’t yet come. While I had been raped by monsters.

Gone. That was gone. And yet, in the Dark City I had only followed my natural course. I had had sex with a monster, although this one was beautiful, and he had been smooth and strong and hard. I’d learned pleasure at his hands—maybe that was worth remembering.

Allie and Raziel would protect me from him. I hadn’t asked who’d saved me—someone must have known there was trouble. I had no illusions about it: Azazel was important here. They had more than likely been watching him, and had come to save Azazel as much as to save the Lilith.

The reasons didn’t matter. I was safe, and would continue to be. Azazel would never hurt me again. Never touch me again. Allie had promised me, and her word was law.

So why did I want to weep?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

AZAZEL TOOK ME AT MY WORD. I never saw him, not when I walked along the beach, soaking up the sun that somehow managed to shine through the mists that surrounded Sheol. Not at the communal meals; not in the long, spacious halls of the peculiar building. It looked like an old seaside villa from Hollywood days, part bungalow, part mission style. I couldn’t remember how I knew that much. There were too many lives for me to remember, and I learned to take my arcane bits of knowledge with equanimity. I knew enough of what was important. That my curse was finally lifted. And that I didn’t dare see Azazel.

I wondered if he’d been sent away. I had been welcomed by everyone, the fallen angels whose names were the stuff of legend: Gabriel and Michael, Gadrael and Tamlel, and the lesser-known ones, with names like Cassiel and Nisroc. And their wives, sweet, quiet women whom Allie was trying to drag into the twenty-first century. For the first time in my endless life, I felt safe and happy, cared for and at ease, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that there were no babies in Sheol had something to do with it. I wouldn’t have to watch a baby die, ever again.

I could help, though. The women assured me they had willingly traded the hope of children for the rich love they shared with their husbands, and never regretted the loss. They told me this as they wept in my arms, and my heart ached for them. At least I knew I hadn’t brought the curse of infertility to them—it had been a gift from an angry God, along with other curses they refused to speak of.

I worked in the infirmary alongside Allie, tending the small hurts and minor illnesses. Up until recently there hadn’t been so much as a cold among the Fallen, but that had changed. It had started seven years ago, with the loss of so many in the battle with the Nephilim, and the inhabitants of Sheol were slowly becoming more vulnerable.

“I’m not sure whether that’s a bad or a good thing,” Allie confided one afternoon as we sat out in the sun. For once we were doing absolutely nothing. Allie had an almost feverish energy and was seldom still, but for now we simply sat, our hands idle. “I used to call them the Step-ford wives—everyone was perfect; no one gained weight or had colds or even got so much as a splinter. It was creepy. But once the Nephilim broke through, everything changed. The wives stopped being so acquiescent, the men became less autocratic. Some of the women have even told me the sex is better, though I find that hard to believe. Sex with the Fallen is … miraculous, no matter what the circumstances.”

I felt my face heat, and I turned away to glance toward the mountains, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “Do they have magic dicks or something?” I said in my raspy voice, trying to sound cynical and unconcerned. Everything about me had recovered from the trauma the Truth Breakers had inflicted, both inside and out. Everything but the wound of Azazel’s betrayal, and my voice, now permanently raw and broken. Allie assured me it was very sexy. I couldn’t see any particular advantage in that.

I felt her eyes on me. “Don’t you know?”

So here was the question. Should I lie to her, the woman who had saved my life, and protect my tenuous peace of mind? Or did I admit to a truth she probably already knew?

But Allie was a better friend than that. She simply moved on, letting me avoid giving a direct answer. “I think it’s more a case of the Fallen only taking their true mates. When they’re between wives, they will sometimes indulge in casual sex, but I gather those couplings are simply enjoyable, not life-altering. That’s how I knew I was supposed to be Raziel’s bonded mate. It took him too damned long to admit it, of course; but then men, even the fallen-angel variety, are a pain in the ass.”

Life-altering? The moments with Azazel deep inside me went far beyond enjoyable, but I refused to believe it meant anything. Besides, he was gone, banished, and I didn’t have to—

“Raziel requires your presence.”

I let out a little shriek. I hadn’t heard him approach, had had no idea he was anywhere near. And suddenly he stood in front of us, the dark creature who’d followed me, kidnapped me, loved me, and betrayed me.

No, he hadn’t loved me. He’d simply fucked me, following orders. Orders from Uriel.

Allie’s worried eyes were on me. “What does he want? Tell him he can wait.”

“He can’t wait,” Azazel said, his blue eyes boring into me. Even in this world of color they were still vivid, hard, unreadable. “There is news.”

Allie hesitated, glancing at me again. “Then come with me—”

“No,” Azazel said. His look was physical, like a touch on my newly healed body, like a caress, and I wanted to close my eyes and revel in it. I ignored it and him as I rose, preparing to follow Allie.

He caught my arm. Just like that, he put his hand on my arm, and I was helpless to break free as a rush of feeling swept over me. “Rachel and I have unfinished business. We’ll follow in a moment.”

Allie cast me an apologetic glance. “He’s right. I’ve been keeping him at a distance, but you need to deal with it sooner or later.”

“Deal with what?” I said coldly. Azazel’s flinch was so brief I might have imagined it, but I knew what had caused it. My ruined voice.

So he was capable of feeling guilt. So what?

“The elephant in the room,” Allie said incomprehensibly. A moment later she was gone, leaving me there on the beach, with Azazel still touching me.

“What do you want?” I rasped. In truth, it was a sexy bedroom voice. For what little good it did me. “If you’re going to tell me you’re sorry, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m not sorry.”

Now, why didn’t that surprise me? “Then why are we talking?”

“I did what I had to do. I had no choice, and if I had to do it over, I would do it again.” His voice was cool, matter-of-fact.

“Including fucking me up against that door in the pouring rain? That was what you had to do? What you’d do over again?”

“Find me a door.”

I swallowed convulsively. So I wasn’t immune to him. That shouldn’t surprise me. Fucking Azazel was the first sexual pleasure I had known, I told myself, deliberately crude. That was a powerful influence, no matter how epic his betrayal.

“What do you want from me?”

He said nothing, and I made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They weren’t icy cold at all, I saw with sudden shock. They were filled with heat, an earthy desire that shook me as I stared at him, and I wondered what he could see in mine.