A match hissed to life, and he held it against the wick of a candle. “Welcome to my place.”
Compared to utter darkness, the candlelight was surprisingly bright. We stood at the opening of a black granite foyer that led to a vast room beyond, also carved from black granite. Silk rugs in chromatic shades of navy, gray, and black decorated the floors. The furniture was sparse, but the pieces Jev had selected were sleek and contemporary, with clean lines and artistic appeal.
“Wow,” I said.
“I don’t bring many people down here. It’s not something I want to share with everyone. I like the privacy and seclusion.”
He definitely had both, I thought, looking around the cavelike studio. Under the candlelight, the granite walls and floors glittered as though flecked with diamonds.
As I continued my slow exploration, Jev walked the room, lighting candles.
“Kitchen to the left,” he said. “Bedroom in the back.”
I tossed a coy glance over my shoulder. “Why, Jev, are you flirting with me?”
He watched me with dark eyes.
“I’m starting to wonder if you’re trying to distract me from our previous conversation.” I trailed my finger over the only heirloom piece in the room, a full-length silver-plated mirror that looked like it belonged in a medieval French château. My mom would be truly impressed.
Jev dropped into a French Deco — inspired black leather sofa, spreading his arms along the back. “I’m not the distraction in the room.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
I felt his eyes devour me as I moved around the room. He assessed me head to toe without blinking, and a hot ache shivered through me. A kiss would have been less intimate.
Shoving down the warmth his gaze stirred inside me, I stopped to take in a breathtaking oil panting. The colors were so vivid, the detail so violent.
“The Fall of Phaeton,” he informed me. “The Greek sun god Helios had a son, Phaeton, by a mortal woman. Each day Helios drove a chariot across the sky. Phaeton tricked his father into letting him drive the chariot, even though Phaeton wasn’t strong enough or skilled enough to handle the horses. As expected, the horses ran wild and fell to Earth, burning everything in their path.” He waited, drawing my eyes to him. “Surely you’re aware of the effect you have on me.”
“Now you’re teasing me.”
“I enjoy teasing you, true. But there are some things I never joke about.” All banter left him, and his eyes turned serious.
Trapped in Jev’s gaze, I accepted what had so plainly been laid out before me. He was a fallen angel. The power that vibrated off him was different from what I felt around Scott. Stronger and sharper. Even now, the air whipped with energy. Every molecule in my body was ultrasensitive to his presence, aware of his movements.
“I know you’re a fallen angel,” I said. “I know you force Nephilim to swear an oath of fealty. You possess their bodies. In this war that’s going on, you’re on the opposite side from Scott. No wonder you don’t like him.”
“You’re remembering.”
“Not nearly enough. If you’re a fallen angel, why do business with Hank, a Nephil? Aren’t you supposed to be mortal enemies?” I sounded more sharp than I intended; I wasn’t sure how to feel about the idea of Jev as a fallen angel. A bad guy. To keep this revelation from pushing me over the edge, I reminded myself I’d figured this all out before, once upon a time. If I’d handled it then, I could handle it now.
Once again, pity flashed across his expression. “About Hank.” He dragged his hands down his face.
“What about him?” I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was having such a difficult time telling me. His features carried such deep sympathy, I automatically stiffened, bracing for the worst.
Jev stood, walked to the wall, leaned an arm against it. His sleeves were pushed to his elbows, his head bowed.
“I want to know everything,” I told him. “Starting with you. I want to remember us. How did we meet? What did we mean to each other? After that, I want you to tell me everything about Hank. Even if you’re worried I won’t like what you have to say. Help me remember. I can’t go on like this. I can’t move forward until I know what I left behind. I’m not afraid of Hank,” I added.
“I’m afraid of what he’s capable of. He doesn’t draw the line. He pushes as far as he can. Worst of all, he can’t be trusted. With anything.” He hesitated. “I’ll come clean. I’ll tell you everything, but only because Hank double-crossed me. You’re not supposed to be in this anymore. I did everything I could to leave you out of it. Hank gave me his word he’d stay away from you. Imagine my surprise, then, when you told me earlier tonight that he’s putting the moves on your mom. If he’s back in your life, it’s because he’s up to something. Which means you’re not safe, we’re back to square one, and coming clean doesn’t put you in any more danger.”
My pulse hammered through my veins, my alarm running deeper than bone. Hank. Just as I’d suspected, everything led back to him. “Help me remember, Jev.”
“Is that what you want?” He searched my face with the need to know that I was absolutely certain.
“Yes,” I said, sounding braver than I felt.
Jev lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa. He unbuttoned his shirt carefully. Even though I was taken aback, instinct told me to be patient. Bracing his elbows on his knees, Jev hung his head between his naked shoulders. Every muscle in his body was rigid. For one moment, he looked like Phaeton from his painting, each sinew etched and chiseled. I took one step closer, then two. The guttering candlelight flickered across his body.
I sucked in a breath. Two jagged stripes of torn flesh marred his otherwise flawless back. The wounds were raw and red, and wrung my stomach into a knot. I couldn’t imagine the pain he was in. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to create such brutal gouges.
“Touch them,” Jev said, looking up at me with nervousness rising to the surface of those unreadable black eyes. “Concentrate on what you want to know.”
“I — don’t understand.”
“The night I drove you away from the 7-Eleven, you ripped my shirt and touched my wing scars. You saw one of my memories.”
I blinked. That wasn’t a hallucination? Hank, Jev, the caged girl — they were from Jev’s memory?
Any doubt I’d been dragging around vanished. Wing scars. Of course. Because he was a fallen angel. And even though I didn’t know the physics behind it, when I touched his scars, I saw things no one else could possibly know. Except Jev. I finally had what I wanted, a window to the past, and fear threatened to get the better of me.
“I should warn you that if you go inside a memory that includes you, things will get complicated,” he said. “You might see a double of yourself. You and my memory of you could be there at the same time, and you’d be forced to watch the events as an invisible bystander. The other scenario is that you’ll transfer into your own version of the memory. Meaning you might experience my memory from your own point of view. You won’t see a double if that happens. You’ll be the only version of yourself in the memory. I’ve heard of both happening, but the first is more common.”
My hands trembled. “I’m scared.”
“I’ll give you five minutes. If you haven’t come back, I’ll pull your hand off my scars. That will break the connection.”
I bit my lip. This is your chance, I told myself. Don’t run away, not when you’ve made it this far. The truth is scary, but knowing nothing is crippling. You of all people understand that.