Page 9 of Far From Center
Chapter 5
Nyalla raced through the door, tossing her packages on the sofa and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Sorry, sorry. I tried to hurry, but there was a line and–”
He was gone. Panic gripped her chest. He was gone, ropes and duct-tape rolled in a stack on the floor, collar on the dresser, a pair of her underwear neatly folded at the end of the bed. Oh sweet Goddess, wasthatwhat she’d stuck in his mouth? Her face burned at the thought. She’d stuck a pair of panties in his mouth — and they weren’t even a pair of clean ones, either.
“Do you have any idea what the maids thought when they saw me there?”
His voice was deep with barely repressed violence. Nyalla turned slowly and saw him, one shoulder against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He was completely healed, his clothing as though he’d just picked it up from the drycleaner, his hair neatly spiked. The thought flickered through her mind that she’d like it better mussed.
The idea went right out of her head as he uncrossed his arms and walked toward her like a tiger stalking prey.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to cleanse their thoughts from my mind. The things those women were imagining about me and you were downright salacious.”
She could believe that. Nyalla had watched her fair share of porn when she’d arrived from Hel not knowing one bit about human lives and culture here. Now he wasn’t the only one who had images of wild sexual bondage going through their mind. Mmmmm. Maybe with a whip instead of the frying pan? She could wear those amazing boots that she could barely walk in and make him kneel before her.
Or not. Nyalla came to her senses and retreated in step with his advance until her back hit the wall. This wasn’t good. He was going to kill her, and instead of planning a viable counterattack that would allow her to escape unharmed, she was fantasizing about tying him back to the bed and taking his clothes off. Slowly. And then licking every inch of his skin.
“You incapacitated me, taped me to the bed, put your intimate apparel in my mouth, then left me for those women to find.” His arms came out on either side of her shoulders, imprisoning her. “What punishment is suitable for such actions? Hmmm?”
Holy Mother. What was he going to do? Probably not what she wanted him to do. Nyalla summoned up her courage and took a deep breath — which rubbed her breasts along his chest.
“I found you uninvited in my room, going through my private belongings. What punishment is suitable foryouractions?”
She caught a flicker of something in his eyes — shame? Then they hardened back to dark azure.
“Maybe I should hityouwith a large, heavy, cooking utensil,” he whispered.
So much for his never hurting her, although all bets had probably been off after she’d walloped him into unconsciousness. He leaned in closer to her and growled —growled, pressing the length of his body against hers. He didn’t have a frying pan handy, but judging from the spark of anger in those gorgeous eyes, she was sure he had something equally painful planned.
She needed to get out of here. Relaxing her body, she became soft, pliant beneath him, looking innocently into his eyes. Then she drove her knee into his crotch. He dropped like a stone and she ran, almost making it out of the bedroom before tripping on her discarded bag and crashing to the floor.
It gave the demon just enough time to recover and spring on her. Once again she was sprawled across the carpet with him on top of her, although this time his face wasn’t buried between her legs.
“Or maybe I’ll tie you to the bed and stuff clothing into your mouth. Leave you here for the maids to find tomorrow morning. Huh?”
Nyalla frantically tried to wiggle out from under him, but only managed to get one arm free. Patting it behind her, she tried to grab something, anything she could use to defend herself.
“I do think some punishment is in order here, some level of atonement.”
Her heart skittered. When demons started talking about punishment, the odds of walking away alive dramatically dropped. Her hand groped and touched the edge of her bag, felt the softness of the fabric, the edge of her cell phone, and something hard and dowel-like. Gritting her teeth, she curled her fingers around the stick and swung.
* * *
What was he doing? He had fallen into the sin of anger, and stooped to physically restraining and threatening a human woman. Angels should not do such things, and as an archangel he should be far above such behavior. Gabriel struggled to push down the cold fury that had possessed him, and truly saw the woman under him. Stars above, she was terrified. He’d lowered himself to threatening and frightening a weak little human. A wave of shame rolled through him and the angel opened his mouth to apologize.
Before the words left his mouth, something hard and stick-like swung toward his head. He shot out a hand and grabbed it. It seemed like an ineffectual weapon for her to use on him, but judging how he’d been rendered completely helpless by a silver collar, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Adun easteth athes driftunga durft.” she shouted.
He blinked. Elvish? She’d said something in Elvish that sounded suspiciously like the words ‘descend to the fires of an inferno, you excrement of a durft’. At the same time she said the words, she yanked, trying to pull the stick from his grip. He held on, twisting. It snapped between Gabriel’s fingers, and he barely had time to register the sound before the pain hit.
It was nothing like he’d ever felt before. The hidden wings vanished from his back, and light dimmed around him. His spirit-self fractured into tiny shards and embedded agonizingly into each and every cell. His vision narrowed, fading before bursting into a million colors so bright that he needed to shut his eyes. Sound thumped through his ears, and the smell of the ocean and warm human flesh filled each breath.
Then something beyond his spirit-self shattered, his restraint and control snapping, cracking. It felt as if his entire soul opened wide and allowed everything to rush inside. Hurt. Shame. Doubt. Fear. Envy. Anger. Pride. Sorrow. Regret. It all broke free from the cage where he’d buried it and rushed its way back into his heart.
Hands pushed at him.
