Touched by Death: (Sins of The Fallen book 3)
Touched by Death: Chapter 25

“This is so fucking bad,” Dariana says as we return to Daemon’s mansion later that evening. Lucifer sent out a search party, but Genesis is still missing.

“It’s bad,” I agree, walking past the sweeping staircase. “But at least it’s clean in here.” Throwing a look at Dmitriy over my shoulder, I fish a packet of cigarettes out of my pocket. I’m in the mood for a joint, but this will have to do for now. “Why are you still here?”

With a snort, Dariana shoulders past me and heads for the living room while Dmitriy trails behind like a lost puppy. Though I respect him for not running scared, I wish he’d drop the fascination with the little angel. She belongs to us.

As if Alaric has the same thought, he snarls at Dmitriy on his way past before disappearing into the living room and flopping onto the couch. Deciding to throw Dmitriy an olive branch, I grip the doorframe to stop him from entering. Confused eyes meet mine, and with a small shrug, I peer into the living room. Then I look back at him, surprised to see how close we’re standing and how strangely comfortable I feel. “They’ll come around. Time is your ally, alright? Stick around and things will soon change.”

A muscle clenches in his cheek as he stares past me. “Why are you telling me this?” The deep drawl in his voice slithers over my extended arm along with the soft whisper of his breath when he exhales. I should lower it and let him pass, but intrigue keeps me rooted to the spot. “I don’t know,” I reply honestly, and he cuts his gaze to me. Unlike Daemon’s, his eyes have speckles of green in the brown. “I should tear you to pieces for looking at Aurelia like you want a taste of her, but something makes me curious enough to tolerate your presence near her.”

A beat passes and then he smiles in a way that sends a jolt of pleasure to my dick. I’ve never felt an attraction to a male before, but something about the way he obsesses over my angel hooks me and won’t let go. His woodsy scent and the lingering notes of hellfire tease my senses when he shifts closer. “Why are you really here?” I ask, my dick straining against my jeans.

Reaching out, he places his hand on the doorframe, too. There’s nothing casual about it. My instincts tell me I’m being hunted, and while that should awaken the desire to fight, I’m oddly curious. I watch him closely as his eyes slide from the room to my face.

“I’m here because I can’t get the girl out of my damn head.” His breath whispers across my lips. “Do you know how many fucking times I’ve rubbed my dick to thoughts of her?”

My cock jumps inside my jeans. “Probably nowhere near as many times as I have.”

“But you’ve had her pussy—”

“And mouth,” I interrupt.

“And mouth,” he echoes, staring at my lips. “I don’t care if I have to hang around to get you all to accept me or if I have to slaughter you all with my bare hands. I’m gonna fuck that sweet mouth too, and I’m gonna fuck it hard. I have the patience of a fucking saint.”

Damn it all to hell.

With a soft chuckle, I drop my arm from the doorway and let him pass, holding his gaze when he slides past me. Our chests brush and then he’s gone. I watch his ass move inside those black jeans as he walks over to the nearest armchair.

“Pass me the cigarettes,” Alaric demands, holding his arm up in the air, and I toss them to him.

Dmitriy’s dark eyes track me. I enter the room and throw myself down onto the other couch opposite Alaric and Dariana. One leg flung over the side, the other drawn up, I use my arm to cushion my head. Dmitriy’s attention skates down to where my black T-shirt has ridden up to expose my abs.

Sliding my hand inside my jeans, I readjust my raging boner, and his intense gaze follows my movement. Two seconds away from jerking myself off in front of everyone, I pull my hand out just in time for Alaric to toss me the packet of cigarettes.

“How long do we wait for Daemon and Amenadiel?” Dariana questions, kicking off her heels and propping her bare feet on the coffee table.

Dragging my eyes away from her wiggling toes, I light up the cigarette and take a deep fucking drag to calm myself down. “Let’s not worry until the morning.”

“But what if we can’t trust Amenadiel not to hurt Deamon?”

Dmitriy tears his eyes from me and sneers at her. “If he wanted to hurt Daemon, he’d have done so already.”

“Maybe he’ll leave him there, trapped in her mind?”

Resting one leg over the armrest, he throws his hand out and lights the fireplace with a sudden burst of flames. “Are you always this distrusting of others?”

“We’re in Hell, and your dad is an asshole. Of course I am.”

His eyes find hers again, lingering for a moment while they assess each other. With a deep inhale, he lets his gaze slide in the direction of the fireplace. “All we can do is wait.”

“If he betrays Daemon, we’ll kill you,” Dari states, trying to provoke a reaction out of Dmitriy, who keeps staring at the flames.

A loud crackle disturbs the ensuing silence. I rub my eyes, tired as hell from the long day. “Where do we think Genesis is hiding?”

Alaric stares at the cigarette that’s almost down to the filter. Smoke leaks from his lips in a sensual, swirling dance. “Far away so that Lucifer won’t be able to track her.”

“What if Aurelia fails to step out from the shadows?”

“She won’t,” Dmitriy speaks up, still staring at the flames in the fireplace with a contemplative look on his face.

My eyes sweep over the defined line of his jaw, his straight nose, and the thin line of his lips. His T-shirt has ridden up his back and, as a result, pools low enough at the front for me to catch a glimpse of his tanned chest. “What makes you so sure?”

He cuts his eyes to me, causing blood to rush south when the weight of his gaze lands on my face. “I’ve seen firsthand how strong she is.”

Reaching forward to crush his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, Alaric snorts with disgust.

Dariana watches our exchange like she can sense a shift in the air.

“Strong, huh?” I hold his gaze. “Care to elaborate?”

An indulging smile dances across his mouth, and the flame he conjures at his fingertips slides across his knuckles—a seductive showcase of his powers if I ever saw one.

As I look over at Dariana, I’m met with a winged brow and a question in her gaze, which I choose to ignore. Pinning my eyes back on Dmitriy, I place the cigarette back between my lips and mumble around the filter, “Tell me about her powers.”

He watches me take a deep drag before clearing his throat and breaking eye contact. “My father’s methods may have been questionable, but Aurelia was determined right from the start to grow her powers. Indulging in the darkness allowed her to do that.”

“But she’s lost to the shadows now,” I point out, flicking ash on the floor.

Watching me silently, he responds, “She is. But if she’d never engaged with her own darkness, she’d never stand a chance at breaking free once Daemon finds her. Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?” Alaric asks, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees. “What are you not saying?”

“Well.” Dmitriy slides his finger across the armrest, back and forth. “If Daemon finds her, he’ll show her she still has something worth fighting for.”

“So?”

“So…” Sitting forward, he stares Alaric in the eyes. “The light will always defeat the dark.”

I choke on cigarette smoke. After hauling myself up into a sitting position, I bang my chest with my fist. “The light? What are you talking about?”

His dark gaze slides back in my direction. “My father once admitted to me that the light clings to him like a persistent dew drop he can’t shake. That drop,” he emphasizes, “is what will ultimately chase away the shadows. Why? Because she possesses far more power inside that single drop of light than any flame of Hell. Goodness drives away darkness.”

Dariana blinks, then looks at Alaric and me as if we hold the answers. Turning back to Dmitriy, she says, “Are you saying she still has the Light inside of her?”

“Of course she does. It’s the essence of her flame. While Genesis arose from the ashes of Death, Aurelia was born of the Light. She battles the eternal war inside of herself.”

Thick and heavy silence falls on the room.

Relaxing back into the armchair, he rubs his finger over the armrest again. Back and forth, back and forth. A twisted lullaby that sings to each of us as we watch the movement.

“When Aurelia realizes that you all love her, that Light inside her will force the shadows back.”

“Philosophical bullshit,” Alaric grumbles.

Dariana shoots him a glare, then shoves him over with a hard push. “I think it’s romantic.”

He shoves her right back, causing her to tumble off the couch. She pops back up, grabs a handful of his hair, and pulls him down.

Tossing a fireball into the air and catching it, I mull over his words while Dariana jumps to her feet and sets fire to his pants.

Flying to his feet, he spits out a curse but then grows silent. I look up from where the flame webs between my fingers, and I pause.

“Why am I not running around like a squealing pig?” Alaric asks, though he knows the answer.

Dmitriy’s lazy drawl cuts through the stunned tension. “You’re not just fire-bonded with Aurelia, but with each other too. She’s the bond that glues you together.”

“Fuck,” Alaric says, using his own magic to put out the flames. His jeans are in charred tatters. “I’ll have to borrow a pair from Daemon.”

Dariana follows him out of the room, leaving me alone with Dmitriy, who’s back to staring at the flames in the fireplace.

Rising from the couch, I walk up to him. His attention slowly shifts across the room, and he looks up at me with dark eyes that hold enough secrets to sink a ship. Trying to decipher or unravel them is of no use.

“You seem to know a lot about the light.”

“I don’t,” he drawls, watching me. “I know nothing more than you do.”

My gaze slides down his body, pausing briefly on the bulge in his jeans before sliding back up to his smirking face.

“Ever sucked a dick, Ronan?” he asks, his voice dripping with amusement.

Not one to back down from a verbal challenge, I dart my tongue out to wet my bottom lip while appraising him. “Ever let anyone fuck you in the ass, Dmitriy?”

“Touché,” he says with a deep, lazy chuckle that shoots right to my dick in the most delicious way. “Why don’t you bend over the coffee table, and I’ll fuck yours.”

A scoff rips from my lips. Entertained as hell by the glimmer of mischief in his gaze, I look behind me at the open door before turning back and leaning forward to grip the back of the couch. Trapping him with my hands on either side of his head, I look him in the eye. “It’s a good thing you amuse me, or I’d make your fucking life hell for thinking you can show up here and mess with our dynamic.”

“Where did the friendly Ronan go that told me time is my ally?” He pretends to look past me to the door. “Did he leave with the others?”

“Very funny,” I mock. “Do anything to come in between my friends and me, and I’ll make you regret it.”

“I thought you were the easygoing one in your little trio. Maybe I have you pegged wrong.”

My cock throbs, straining so hard in his presence, I damn near give in to the urge to do something about it. “We all hide sides of ourselves,” I reply. “Are you as bad as you’ve let on all this time?”

His lopsided smile takes on a dangerous quality, and he reaches out to hook a single finger in my jeans pocket. “I’m worse.” His eyes glow with flames. “So much fucking worse.”

Pushing off the armchair, I straighten up and point an accusing finger in his direction. “Don’t mess with my friends or me.”

“I’m just here for Aurelia.”

Snarling low in my chest, I surge forward, but his hand shoots out and grabs me in a chokehold. Sitting forward in his seat, he digs his fingers into my throat and bares his incisors. “I have, in fact, fucked a man in the ass. And let me tell you, Ronan. Yours looks damn tempting in those jeans.” He shoves me away just as fast, causing me to stumble against the coffee table. Rising to his feet, he walks out without another word, leaving me to stare after him with gritted teeth and clenched fists.

Asshole!

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