Angel's Fall

Cael was suddenly very conscious they were alone. Don’t be an idiot. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in his company. But not like this, with the incubus’s effect still lingering in the room; no Seer to question or sword to steal, just the two of them with nothing to do but wait for Shay to return.

« You’re hurt. »

If Lam was equally aware of their circumstances, he didn’t show it. « What? »

Cael nodded at the cut above Lam’s eye and on his lip. « From the fight in the church. I, uh, can heal them, if you like. » Every angel had some talent for healing, as their gift from Raphael. That Lam hadn’t already healed himself seemed to indicate it was a talent lost with his wings.

Cael half-expected a smart-ass response, or one heavy with insinuation, but Lam just said slowly, « If you like. »

Lam’s dark eyes were heavy on his as Cael rose and took a spot on the couch next to him. Seated, they were nearly of a height. Cael touched the tight skin of Lam’s temple next to the cut and resisted the urge to trace down the plane of his cheekbone, down to those soft curved lips. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the gash on Lam’s skin, and called up his healing gift.

It was more difficult than it should have been. It was like pushing against a thick sponge that absorbed as much as it let through. Cael focused and pushed harder, feeling Lam’s skin knit slowly back together millimeter by hard-won millimeter.

When he opened his eyes again, the room was spinning. Lam’s hand curled around his wrist to steady him.

« I don’t know why that was so difficult. » The gash was closed, with only a trace of dried blood to show where it had been. But even with Lam supporting him, he felt much weaker than he should have after such a simple healing.

« The underworld isn’t always hospitable to angel gifts. » Lam’s hand was warm on his skin. « You can leave the lip; it’s fine. »

« I should do it now, while I have some time to recover. » He moved his hand down to Lam’s cut lip, Lam’s grip softening but not relinquishing his wrist.

Soft skin met the sensitive pads of his fingers. Cael couldn’t help but linger on the give of flesh when he pressed, slightly, on his bottom lip. Lam’s breath tickled his fingers.

He closed his eyes again. It was even more difficult this time, like an active force suppressing his power. Sweat itched down his brow. This time when he opened his eyes, Lam grabbed his upper arm to keep him upright on the couch.

« All right? »

Cael nodded. Lam’s healed lip curled fleetingly in a smile.

They were too close to one another. Cael’s heartbeat was too loud. Breath caught in his throat when Lam moved his head, slowly, dragging Cael’s fingers across his bottom lip.

« Tell me, angel, » Lam said, his voice as mesmerizing as the feel of him. « Did you leave someone behind in the Empyrean? »

A shiver ran down Cael’s back—that Lam wanted to know, and because the question bordered on taboo. Brief moments of intimacy and physical relief were tolerated as unavoidable, but the Malachim discouraged any more permanent bond that would distract from their purpose. Angels didn’t live and work for their own needs; they were the Elohim’s messengers, sent to keep the fragile balance of the world.

« You know attachments aren’t encouraged. »

« That doesn’t mean they don’t happen, despite the Malachim’s best efforts. »

Not for me. Not like this. « No. » His voice shook only a little when he asked, « You? »

Lam smiled, and Cael realized what an inane question that was, considering what Lam had been doing the last seven years: first infiltrating Kane, then living out his exile. « No. »

Lam’s hand still lightly circled Cael’s wrist. He’d loosened his grip on Cael’s upper arm, but it was still there, a warmth Cael felt even through his jacket. Lam was waiting, Cael realized—for Cael to make the first move, or to pull away; he was letting Cael set the pace for whatever happened between them.

He shouldn’t be doing this. This wasn’t what angels did. He especially shouldn’t be doing this with Lam, who had no loyalty to the Malachim and whose beliefs—not to mention associates—were questionable, to say the least.

Maybe this absurd attraction was just something he had to get out of his system. Act on it in order to get past it. Then he could get on with his mission free of distraction.

Liar.

His eyes went to Lam’s lips, full and so soft under his fingertips, then he closed his eyes and leaned in.

Warm breath on his lips. The barest brush of flesh. The shock of skin touching was a series of small explosions down his spine. He curled his hand behind Lam’s neck to pull him forward, teeth bumping until Lam angled his head and their mouths fit perfectly together.

It was nothing like Cael’s brief encounters with others of his kind. It was unlike anything. His lips parted and he felt the shock of Lam’s tongue against his, and the hot, wet intimacy of his mouth. Blood rushed through him, down, a wave of pure arousal stealing his breath. Lam’s hand was on his hip, and then it moved up, under his jacket, trailing sparks on his skin beneath his tshirt as Cael’s fingers tightened in the soft hair at Lam’s nape.

They were kissing. It was so surreal and raw Cael’s brain hadn’t yet caught up.