Lucifer was not given to sentiment, so she wanted desperately to believe him. Jonah gave her an encouraging nod, though his mouth was tense. She touched his arm, then started down the tunnel.
Once she disappeared from their view, she stopped, drew a steadying breath and closed her eyes. Her woman's heart had been hurt, her pride abused, but even swamped by loneliness, she couldn't deny one thing. She'd understood why he'd done it. That was what had made her angriest of all.
For the first time in her life, she'd discovered love, and her angel blood held the upper hand, telling her he was the one. The only one. For as many years as she had.
She had to trust, like Anna had said. But she couldn't bear losing him.
Gathering her courage in both hands, she stepped out of the tunnel, onto the narrow bridge Lucifer had indicated.
Dante stood at the other end, waiting for her on the platform. It was a little scary, the chasm flickering with the lights of hellfire from down below, but it was comfortably warm, and he was here. He was paler, making her think she hadn't sent blood often enough. Otherwise, he looked so fine, standing straight and tall, his face impassive, beautiful as ever. He wore a black half-tunic, like the angels' battle skirts, and the pouch strung on the belt, but that was all. His feet were bare, just as they had been in the Dark One world.
She could tell nothing from his eyes, but they were riveted on her face. If she could fight back the tangled coil of emotions rising in her chest, she might be able to feel what he was feeling. But if he stayed remote from her here, as he had in her mind, she might lose it. She'd kick his perfect ass off the edge of the precipice.
"I'd rather avoid that."
She closed her eyes. She'd longed for his touch so much that even his voice, that mesmerizing roughness mixed with velvet undertones, was a stroke on her skin. Embarrassingly, she couldn't move. She'd had the courage to come here, but now she couldn't find it in her to cross the bridge to him. But when she opened her eyes, he was on the narrow passage, right in front of her, within touching distance.
The dim flickering light of this chamber of Hell made his crimson eyes dark, a rich Burgundy wine. He reached out, his hand closing on her cold one at her side, tugging her forward. She resisted, but of course he was stronger, so she took two steps forward and he closed the distance, bringing her against him.
"I missed you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm sorry."
She drew in a deep, shaky breath, letting out a little sob as his emotions flooded over her. He had missed her. Ached for her. Wanted her every second, as much as she'd wanted him. She wanted to scream. "Why didn't you talk to me?" she managed.
"Because of the Fen. Because of Eden."
"What?" She didn't lift her head to look at him. She was too overwhelmed. It was so good to be in the circle of his arms. She felt safe there, she realized. She could do and be anything as long as he surrounded her like that. She didn't dare move, not wanting to do anything that might make him move away. "I don't understand."
"Mina was right from the beginning. I need to deserve the world you're offering me."
"You're not evil."
"I've done evil things. No matter the reason," he interjected before she could protest. "I still took lives that were not mine to take. You are the greatest gift any male could wish, but I obtained you through evil means."
He was going to reject her. Push her out of his life. She could feel it coming, and the reaction in her breast was helpless anger, a despicable desire to plead. Before she could, he tilted her chin up to him.
Those eyes had the power to destroy her, she knew it. She looked upon his face and knew she couldn't survive without him. Her fingers crept up, clutched his waist as if she could hold him to her. He was inside of her in all ways, and if he left her again, it would be unbearable.
"I thought about that, Alexis," he said quietly, his mouth tightening. "I thought about putting distance between us so Fate might overlook the debt due, what the Fen chief said might happen. Then I realized our connection already exists. There is no way to hide it, to starve it. You are my greatest weakness, Alexis."
It startled her, but his gaze held hers without wavering. "You are also my greatest strength. You knew that, when you told me to come to you. By surrendering my heart to you, I was stronger in that moment than I'd ever been. And I know now I have to have enough ease in my soul to love you the way you deserve."
She let out a little sob, and his voice grew husky. "I've heard every thought you've had. Felt every tear you shed into your pillow. Seen Clara's attempts to cheer you, and the times you swam with your manatees, and then in the ocean alone, trying to come to grips with your fears and sorrows. I have been with you every second. I've known a lot of torments, but feeling your loneliness and pain and denying myself the right to reach out to you . . . I'd prefer to endure all the punishments here before feeling that again."
She sucked in a shaky breath, taking her hands to his face. "Then don't leave me."
He closed his eyes. "I have to be sure what I can offer to you first."
"You offer me everything, just by existing."
"No. That is your love talking." He closed his hands on her wrists. "It is beautiful, and true, and you mean it with all your heart, I can feel it. But just because you feel it is true doesn't make it true, Alexis. Everyone knows I'm not good enough for you. And they're right."
Her heart sank into her knees. It would break, as soon as he said the words she knew were coming.
"However, I have a dilemma. I can't become good enough without you."
&nbs
p; She halted in midstruggle, biting off the battery of responses she'd intended to fling at him when he made his inevitable, ridiculous declaration that she was better off without him.
"No doubt you would be," he said gravely. He turned his head, brushed his lips over her palm so that heat tingled across it. "But you were right about that, too. I'm selfish. Giving you up is one thing I am not prepared to do. Not now, not ever."
"I'm really confused," she admitted.
In response, a smile spread across his face.
It stopped her breath. Her heart skipped a beat. It was spontaneous, yet learned, and seeing her reaction, he was just as amazed by it. Letting her go, he reached toward his mouth, but she beat him to it, taking her fingers to his lips. Never had she felt such a surge of hope from such a simple thing. A vampire Dark Spawn's ability to smile.
His gaze became jeweled, a sparkle of ruby fire. Tightening his hands on her again, he spoke against her touch. "I will need your help to become a person deserving of your love, or the Fen's forgiveness . . . or the Goddess's mercy. I expect all of that to take a very, very long time." A shadow moved over his expression. "If you die before then, I shall be very angry at you."
Alexis pressed her lips together. "You know."
"I knew when Raphael told you. It was part of why I stayed in your mind, making sure you were doing what he suggested for you. You are doing better. I'm glad. I will not love you if you insist on dying."
She wanted to smile now, but she couldn't. She stretched her fingertips up to brush his lips again. "You love me?"
"I want to do so, even more than I think I wanted to escape the Dark One world. Perhaps they are one and the same thing. All I know is that these many days without being close to you were as lonely to me as all the years I spent there. I need you, Alexis."
Swallowing over a treasure chest full of emotions, she lifted to her toes, but he was already bending to meet her, his hands sweeping down to pull her hard against his body, enough that she gave a little gasp into his mouth. The kiss was so hungry on both sides it was awkward, rough, but in a way she didn't mind. Locking his arm around her waist, he lifted her, taking her off the narrow bridge and onto the platform. He brought them both down to the ground, and though the rock wasn't comfortable, she didn't care. She needed a different hardness right now, one that made all the rest irrelevant. She'd been empty and desolate for weeks.