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“The others stayed away from him. For some reason, in my dream I didn’t avoid him. I went to him and he hugged me. I remember heat surrounding me, so strong it felt like I was burning alive. And yet I welcomed it. It’s what I wanted.” She rubbed her arms with her hands, as if she was trying to cool down her skin.

“Tase told me that you were using me. He said you were going to kill me as a way to gain your redemption, that I had to save myself and I shouldn’t trust you.”

His lips lifted. “Not bad advice, actually.”

She frowned and crossed her arms. “That’s not funny.”

“It has to be partly your own subconscious giving you these dreams, Isabelle.”

“Is it?”

“Do you think they’re somehow tuning in to what’s happening between the two of us, then giving you advice in your dreams? Don’t you think some of what you’re hearing has to come from your own misgivings? About where you are, what’s happened to you? About how you’ve felt about me?”

“I do trust you, Dalton.”

“But up until now you’ve known very little about me. You had no reason to trust me. Sure, the Sons of Darkness might be prodding you. But I think some of it comes from you, too.”

She leaned forward, laid her head against the palm of her hand, and took a sip of coffee. “I don’t know anymore. These dreams are so vivid, unlike any dreams I’ve had before. It’s like as soon as I fall asleep I’m transported, like I’m really with them. Every sense comes alive. I can feel everything-the heat, the crisp cut of their clothes when I touch them. I smell the acrid burning odor when Tase enfolds me in his arms. I shiver when I step away from him and am surrounded by the others, because they are completely the opposite of him-ice cold. It’s all so clear, no dreamlike quality to it.”

“I slept next to you last night, Isabelle. Or I should say I lay next to you all night, because I didn’t sleep. Trust me-you were there the entire time.”

She sighed. “I don’t claim to understand it, Dalton. You probably would better than me. I just know it feels so real. Like I’m there.”

“Are you thinking the Sons of Darkness have some kind of control over your soul-that they’re actually transporting you, just not physically?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Is that even possible?”

“No. Trust me when I tell you that all of you was here last night. Just like when they come to you during the daytime, all of you is still here. They’re screwing with your head, making you doubt yourself-and me.”

She nodded. “The logical part of me understands that. But it’s so easy to believe in the darkness.”

He reached out, stroked his palm across her cheek. “Maybe it’s time you start believing in the light.”

“What if I don’t think I’m deserving of it?”

“Try harder. I believe in you. I believe we can take that darkness within you and make it manageable, so that you can control it and live a normal life.”

She smiled. “I’ll try harder.”

“That’s my girl.”

Thunder cracked and lightning lit up the dark sky. Isabelle jumped at the sound and Dalton held her tighter. He knew she was skittish, no doubt frightened, and probably confused as hell. The weather wasn’t helping, especially since the sky took that moment to open and dump its contents in a hellacious downpour, accompanied by nonstop arcing lightning and thunder so loud it hurt the ears.

“Let me show you something,” he said, backing away from her, but still holding on to her hand.

Dalton led her into the second bedroom, the one he’d taken as his own when they’d first arrived. He motioned for her to sit on the bed, then he went into the closet and dragged something out of the back, wrapped in an old, worn cloth.

“What’s that?”

He laid it on the bed and began to unwrap it, the cloth falling apart as he did.

Isabelle gasped as Dalton unveiled a sword, about a foot and a half long, gleaming bright in the semidarkness of the bedroom. The intricate scrolling pattern on the scabbard was like nothing she’d seen before, as was the writing on the blade.

“May I?” she asked.

He nodded, and she lifted the blade, which seemed so light, not heavy as she thought it would be. “This metal seems so unfamiliar. What is it?”

“Nothing that’s made on earth.”

Her gaze snapped to his and she laid the sword back on the bed. “What is that, Dalton?”

“It used to be mine. A long, long time ago. It’s the sword of the Guardians, a weapon we used to fight the darkness.”

She stared at it in awe. “To fight demons.”

“Yes.”

“Where did it come from?”

“It’s always been here. It was left behind when I was banished. And when I returned, I left it here.”

“When was the last time you used it?”

“That night I killed Ratineau.”

“So you used this sword to kill a human.”

He picked it up, his fingers curling lightly over the scabbard. “The sword lost its power that night, too, just like I did. But I’m hoping we can rectify that.”

“How?”

“With your blood. And mine.”

Isabelle tried not to let the tiny leap of fear show on her face. She meant what she said when she told Dalton she trusted him. She’d come this far with him. He knew what he was doing, and she was putting her life in his hands. She wouldn’t still be alive if it wasn’t for him, anyway.

“Okay. Do you want to explain how?”

“Georgie will help us. She’ll conduct a voodoo ceremony. During the ceremony, you and I will use the sword, slice into our hands, mingle our blood. And we will call upon the spirits to give you back your strength, your humanity, so you can fight the Sons of Darkness. Our request will be to empower you so that the human side of you becomes stronger than the demon side.”

“Georgie has that kind of power?”

“Alone? No. But with my help, yes.”

Isabelle leaned back against the bed, staring at him in wonder. “Every time we talk, I learn so many more of your secrets, and I’m just so amazed by you.”

He laid the sword down and reached for her hand, kissed her palm, tucked it between both of his. “I’m not a knight in shining armor, Isabelle. I’m a fallen angel. I’ve made more mistakes than I’ve done good. Don’t put me up on a pedestal because I’m more likely to disappoint you.”

Her bottom lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. “I think you’re too hard on yourself.” She raised up and kissed him, the brush of her lips so tender it made him ache inside. “I love you. You love me. There’s strength in that. We’ll figure this out together.”

That made the ache even more painful. This love, this human thing that he never quite understood, was becoming all too clear to him.

Losing it was going to kill him.

“The Realm will be here soon.”

She stilled, pulled back. “What? How do you know?”

“Logic. I worked with them long enough to know that after my call to Derek, it’s only a matter of time before they zero in our location and find us.”

Dalton saw the fear in her eyes, wished he hadn’t been the one to put it there, but he wasn’t going to hold back information any longer.

“So what does that mean? Should we pack up and go?”

He shook his head. “No. We stay. I’ll convince them that I had a good reason for what I did.”

“Will you explain that to them before or after they kill me?”

“I’m not going to let them kill you.”

“You’ll be using your amazing angel superpowers to prevent that, then.”