There were storms behind his gaze, clouds gathering in his consciousness she knew had been only temporarily held at bay by the beauty of Eden. And those clouds were dark, fearsome.
"I love you," she said, wanting him to hear it, to see it in her face. "No matter what happens. I belong at your side."
Curling her hands in his hair as an anchor, she lifted up enough to press her lips to his. She wanted him to take her again, until she had no energy left. She wanted him to know it was going to be all right. There was nothing in the Goddess's world that wasn't possible, no matter how dark the depths of his soul. Lex would never fear his darkness.
HE took her twice more, until she could only hold on to him, reveling in his pleasure, letting her own steal over her like a languid tropical sea. They slept, but eventually, she knew it was time to leave. Fortunately, her wings had enough strength to get her back to the Citadel, but she knew they'd need a lift to get back home.
Despite the ethereal nature of their afternoon, as they landed Alexis had the sudden, horrifying worry that her cries had resounded through Heaven, but none of the angels looked abashed or embarrassed in any way. Her father was reading. One of his favorite pastimes in Machanon was studying lore and history on the parapets while overlooking the Heaven he was sworn to protect. Rising at her return, he gave Dante an expressionless nod, but took her hand in his, telling her Anna sent her well wishes and the hope her daughter would come to her soon.
"I will, Pyel. For tonight, though, I'd really love to get a good night's sleep," she admitted. "Can someone help us get there?"
Mina had already departed with David, so Marcellus and Jonah agreed to get them home. In order that they could move more swiftly, Jonah had Lex change to human form and don a borrowed tunic. They all recognized that Dante didn't relish being carried by either angel. So Marcellus had Dante thread a hand through his weapons' harness, and the angels went at a swifter speed than Alexis could manage. Otherwise, the flight back to her town house was uneventful. It was night there now, which made it easier to land on the roof unnoticed. Stars were out, and music was playing in one of the units.
Dante moved to the edge to gaze down over the area, obviously scoping it for anything threatening. Jonah and Marcellus began to discuss the safety of the town house, alarming Alexis. She wondered if they intended to stay the night in her small place. All she wanted was to get to bed, with Dante curved around her, and let the tranquility of the night temporarily heal all things, in that magical way the late hours of the night could.
But before she could tactfully try to steer them toward that end, the roof maintenance door opened. The three males glanced that direction, but it was Clara.
"I knew you were coming," she whispered.
The way she looked Lex over, lingering worry in her gaze, suggested she knew more about what had happened to them in the past few hours than Lex would have liked her to experience. Then Clara sighted the others. "Oh. Okay, I didn't sense everyone else. Is this a meeting? Do I need to--"
"No, you're fine." Alexis couldn't quite suppress a smile when her friend's gaze latched onto Marcellus. The angel was quite aware of her attention as well, his response an amusing mixture of lust and exasperation, and something else . . .
"Oh my God. That's your father?"
When Alexis nodded, Clara's eyes got rounder. "How . . . how old is he?"
"Over a thousand years. He doesn't remember exactly."
"And your mom is immortal, too?"
"No, not exactly. She'll live until she's three hundred. But she won't age the way humans do, not until she gets close to that age."
"So your dad looks like a fireman's calendar pinup after a thousand years, and your mom pretty much gets to always be drop-dead gorgeous. God, remind me that we can only be friends until I start getting wrinkles and my boobs droop. Then I'm cutting you out of my life entirely. It would be too depressing to see you wearing minis when I'd be looking for control top panty hose."
Alexis's brow rose, but then Dante spoke, returning her attention to him. Only he wasn't speaking to her.
"You stood with me." He had turned to face Jonah.
Jonah glanced at Marcellus, then squared off with the vampire. "I stood with my daughter."
Dante shook his head. "The tide had turned. You could have taken her out of there and left me to my fate."
"Yes." Jonah's gaze flickered to Alexis, then came back to the vampire. "But she was right, as much as I didn't want her to be. However, like the Fen, I have far to go before I feel your life might be worth the suffering my daughter and so many others have endured to preserve it."
His aversion to the conversation obvious, Jonah turned toward Alexis, but Dante wasn't done.
"No. That's not all of the truth."
Alexis stepped forward, but Marcellus drew her back, shaking his head in warning.
"You are pushing your luck, vampire," Jonah said, low.
Dante cocked his head. "You could have killed me, when I first arrived in your world, before you knew about the third mark. You wanted to. Even the witch's barrier wouldn't have stood in your way."
Jonah inclined his head. "Yes, I could have. If you had not done what you did during those first few moments, I would have."
Alexis drew in a breath, but neither male looked her way. "And what did I do?" Dante said, when Jonah didn't volunteer further information.
Jonah gave him an even, measured glance. "You took one vital second to move my daughter behind you, so she would not be between you and danger. In battle, a second is the difference between life and death. You protected her on instinct."
He stepped forward then, bumping toes with the vampire. Dante's fangs bared, but the light in Jonah's gaze was no less aggressive. "Bear in mind, vampire, it was the only thing that saved your life. I trust from this second forward you will always put her well-being first. Reconsidering my decision, and acting on it, would take far less than one vital second. Count on it."
"God, every male's nightmare of a father-in-law," Clara murmured.
The humor eluded Alexis, for she felt something else from Dante then, something that had her moving forward in protest even as Marcellus tried to stop her again.
"Alexis is now home safely," the vampire said. "If you will take me there, I intend to stay in Hell."
DANTE saw the stark shock in her face, the painful betrayal. He had surprised all of them, but she was the one who closed her hand on his forearm, tugging him around to face her alone. "What? You're leaving?"
"It is better for me to be there for now." Dante didn't know if she understood how hungry he felt looking upon her gentle face, but his hands had a mind of their own, sweeping hers aside to draw him to her, his grip possessive on her hips. He wanted her, needed her, and yet he had to leave. Her body leaned into his, wanting to change his mind. He wanted to share his thoughts with her, but he hadn't sorted them out for himself yet, and she couldn't make this decision for him. In her mind, she was pleading. She could take care of him, help him . . .
"You have. But there are things . . ." He switched to her mind, because it was easier. It is not because I don't want you. But I need to go there. I need to think.
"You won't come back." Her hands curled into his bare chest. "You'll get all stupid, the way males do, and think I'm better off without you."
"I can't think around you," he said. "I won't destroy you through ignorance or blind need."
"But I--"
"No," he snapped. "You will stay here, and I am going. That is all. This is my decision, not yours."
She whitened at the anger in his voice. Yes, he was not used to someone disobeying his will, actually arguing with him, but it wasn't that which made him curt with her. The last thing he wanted to do was leave, which was exactly why he needed to do so. Jonah had stepped back, giving them some space, but his expression for once wasn't condemning. Though Dante was doing what Jonah had warned him not to do, hurt his daughter, Jonah understood.
Despite that,
he saw the father's eyes dwell on her with a trace of the same regret he had aching in his chest. An unfamiliar emotion, and one he didn't like at all. There was nothing more he could do or say to change what must be done. As he'd done all his life, he made his decision and acted upon it.
"Let's go," he said brusquely, and turned his back on her.
Thirty-two
WHEN evil becomes something good, the weapon has two edges . . . One day, you will know what you took from us.
He hadn't understood their language in his own world. To him, they'd been no more than rough, primitive tools for his needs. Yet that judgment haunted him with its ominous, profound clarity.
Because all worlds are just, it is when you love her the most that Fate will take her from you . . .