Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) (Reading Sample) - Felicity Heaton (rm book recommendations txt) 📗

to rain destruction down upon mortals, and everyone could view him as good and kind, then she had to at least try to give Asmodeus the chance his twin had been offered.

She had to discover whether there was good in him or whether she had been imagining it.

“Would you have killed the street vendor if I hadn’t stopped you?” She managed to keep the tremble out of her voice as she asked, afraid of what his response would be because part of her already knew the answer to that question.

Asmodeus drew in a deep breath, his broad bare chest expanding with it, tipped his chin up and stared down at her, no trace of guilt in his eyes. “Yes.”

“Why?” She swallowed to wet her dry throat and shift the lump from it.

He had to have a reason. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine for the Devil, not like Apollyon said he was. She had seen his keen intelligence and his feelings playing out in his eyes. There was good in him. There was reasoning and calculation behind his every action. He had a reason for attacking the man. He had to have one.

Asmodeus lifted his hand between them, flexed his fingers and then lowered it back to his side. He stared off to his right, into the distance beyond her, and was quiet for so long that she feared he would never answer and she would never know the truth of him.

She wanted to see beyond the name and the stories, and the things she had been told, to the real Asmodeus. The one she had glimpsed earlier before he had locked it down and brought his guard back up.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head a fraction. “I thought he meant to harm you.”

Her hazel eyes widened.

Asmodeus frowned and clenched his fists at his sides. “I felt you tense and heard your heart jump, and your power flared. You were scared. I only meant to remove the source of your fear.”

He had been protecting her.

Liora glanced skywards to give herself a moment to absorb the revelation. This powerful male that everyone told her was cruel and evil, and had no good in him, had wanted to protect her. It was all the proof she needed that there was a sliver of good in him and it reinforced her desire to know more about him.

The sun was setting though and that meant more rose sellers and people around the Eiffel Tower to see it as it lit up. If she wanted to continue her time with Asmodeus, she would need to take him somewhere it would get quieter, not busier.

She dropped her gaze to his. “Will you fly me somewhere?”

He looked beautifully startled, his eyes going round and falling to her body. A touch of colour crept onto his cheeks and his pupils expanded, gobbling up the gold in his irises. Was he thinking about carrying her when he looked so flushed with desire?

A warm shiver raced through her blood and she swept her tongue across her lips, not even bothering to deny that she felt that same burst of desire whenever she raked her gaze over him, even when she knew she shouldn’t.

He nodded. “Where?”

Liora turned and pointed towards the basilica of Sacré-Coeur where it stood on the hill in the distance, the three white domes of the grand church illuminated by golden light. “There. It will get quieter there as night falls.”

His throat worked on a hard swallow and he opened his thickly muscled arms to her. “I will fly you there.”

Liora slipped the strap of her small black bag over her shoulder so it fell across her front and took a deep breath as she stepped into his arms. Serenity was going to kill her for this but she didn’t care. Something about Asmodeus had her going against convention and everything she knew she should do. She felt a connection between them, a link she had never experienced with another, and she felt as if she could be wild and free around him and he would never judge her or tell her what to do.

He would let her be herself.

He would be right there with her.

He dipped his body, slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, and effortlessly lifted her into his arms. She settled her right palm against his chest and stared into his eyes. They were even more beautiful up close.

Flecks of black and rich amber swirled amongst liquid gold. His heart thundered against her palm and his breathing quickened as she continued to look deep into his eyes.

Awareness grew within her, stealing her focus away from the world until it was all settled on him. She could feel his large hands pressed into her ribs and clutching her knee. She could feel his powerful body pressing against her side, shifting with each heavy breath. Each of those breaths washed over her, moist and sweet, bringing her heart to a gallop.

His power flowed around her, a protective shield that allowed hers to recede for the first time in what felt like forever.

She had never felt so safe, not since her parents had died.

Asmodeus would protect her.

Her gaze drifted down the straight slope of his nose to the firm line of his lips, and they parted to reveal blunt white teeth.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his deep husky voice sending a shiver of heat across her skin, and she couldn’t resist snaking her hands around his strong neck and teasing the ends of his short black hair. He gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing, and a quiet growl escaped him.

His fingers flexed against her, drawing her closer, and she felt wicked because she liked how he clutched her as if he was never going to let her go.

She was playing with fire.

The Hell kind.

The problem was, she didn’t care if she got burned.

Asmodeus spread his glossy black wings, bent at the knee and pushed off. She clung to him for a whole different reason as each powerful beat of his wings carried them higher into the warm evening air. She hadn’t exactly thought about what she was asking.

Flying had sounded charming and fascinating. Now it was beginning to look frightening.

It was already a long drop to a very painful death.

“You will not fall, Liora,” Asmodeus whispered against her ear and she melted in his arms.

Someone so evil shouldn’t have a voice that could do wicked things to a woman like his did.

Or perhaps it was perfect for him, made for seducing and getting his way.

Was he a seducer?

She drew back to look at him and his grip on her tightened, his scowl re-emerging at the same time. His golden gaze shifted to her and then back to the distance. She studied his face as he flew, trying to figure him out by replaying everything that had happened. He had never left Hell but he had met mortals, and there were plenty of demons who looked human. She didn’t think there was a Mrs Asmodeus waiting for him back in Hell though.

She had made him blush by touching his cheek, had sparked desire by touching his sword, and had caught the passion that flared in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

He didn’t have a steady relationship but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a seducer. He could be playing her right now, performing perfectly to lure her in with practiced reactions designed to get him what he wanted from a woman.

“Why do you stare at me?” Asmodeus said and she tapped into her power, channelling it into him in the hope of discovering whether his awkwardness was real or an act.

She could sense no falseness in him. Her staring genuinely confused him.

“I’m trying to figure you out.” There was no point in hiding her intentions. The more honest she was with him, the more liable he was to be honest with her.

“And?” A playful edge entered his eyes and she wasn’t surprised to find the corners of his lips curling into a wicked smile.

“I’m getting nowhere.” She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her gaze on him. “Are you evil?”

“Yes.”

A very blunt and honest answer. “Evil because everyone expects you to be evil… or because you really are that way?”

He frowned at her and then switched his focus back to the skies ahead of him. “I was born evil.”

“I know the story,” she said and he flicked another glance at her, a touch of surprise in his eyes now. “You’re everything evil in Apollyon… blah, blah, blah… but I’m not convinced that you’re only evil.”

His golden eyes darkened and crimson edged them. She was pushing his buttons again. He didn’t like her mentioning Apollyon or comparing them in any way. She could understand why. She hated it whenever her coven mentioned how she should strive to be more like Serenity—all good and graceful. Serenity had never lived through hell as she had. Serenity had no reason to have darkness and hatred inside her.

Liora looked down as he glided around the top of the beautiful white domes of the church of Sacré-Coeur with her and then brought them down in the square below. She expected at least a bump as they landed, but it was smoother than any touch down she had ever experienced.

He carried her to the iron fence edging the square and stared out over the city. Dusk turned the elegant stone buildings and the ribbon of the river pink and gold, making them more beautiful than ever.

Asmodeus gently set her down.

“You’ve really never left Hell?” she said while watching him absorb the view of the city with wide eyes.

He looked like a man who had never witnessed such a view. She had asked Apollyon about Hell. His answer had been that it was black and grim, and that the only colours in the bleak landscape were the boiling rivers of lava.

“Never.” Asmodeus narrowed his golden gaze and shifted it down to her. “Have you ever left the mortal realm?”

She shook her head, the loose tangled waves of her chestnut hair brushing her shoulders. “Never… what’s it like where you live?”

“I have a castle I built.”

“A home.” She looked out over the city, enjoying the view even though she had come here often during the first two weeks into her stay with Serenity and Apollyon. It was nice to escape them sometimes, finding her own space so she could think and be herself.

“I do not think of it as a home.”

Liora frowned and looked across at him. He stood with his profile to her, his eyes drifting over the city, the sinking sun bringing out their colour but not warming them. They were cold and empty again. Where had his thoughts taken him?

The more she looked at him and thought about what he had said, the more she felt he was lonely but didn’t realise it. He had never left Hell and he refused to view his castle as his home.

Did he have no love and light in his life?

“So what are your friends like? Are they all bad-ass demons or are you mates with the Devil?”

Asmodeus’s gaze locked on a distant point and then flicked straight to her. “I have none.”

He had no friends.

He had no home.

What sort of lonely life was he leading in Hell? She was beginning to wonder how there was even a sliver of good in him. He had no reason to feel that or any positive emotions at all.

Liora placed her hand over his on the black metal railing and he looked down at them, his eyes slowly widening in that way that made her feel that there was something about Asmodeus that would surprise everyone who saw him if they knew about it.

He had always been alone.

No one had ever shown him compassion or care.

No one had ever touched him like this, as a friend would, offering comfort and support.

He was a clone of Apollyon, everything evil distilled into its purest and