“Good,” he whispered as his fingers trailed over the weapon and sheath hidden beneath my loose jeans. “Although, it’ll be too hard to access quickly unless you start wearing short skirts.”

I struggled to breathe normally. “Is that a request?”

“A suggestion.” His now-heated gaze locked with mine and held. “Damn it, Samantha. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“You were not supposed to be part of my problem.”

On the surface, word for word, it almost sounded like an insult. But the way he said it, low and throaty...me being problematic for an angel of death—it was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard in my entire life.

My hunger swirled around me, ever tightening like a cool silk scarf binding me in place. Everything else faded into the background—my future, my survival, the safety of everyone in the city, even the fate of my best friend trapped in the Hollow.

I didn’t care about anything else.

Only Bishop.

“Kraven’s right.” His breath was warm against my cheek. “When I’m this close to you...it’s like being a fly trapped in a spider’s web. I can’t seem to free myself.”

“I want to kiss you right now.” I was completely unashamed by the truth spilling from inside me. “So much. It’s driving me crazy.”

He didn’t reply; he just nodded slowly, his gaze fully fixed on my lips.

“I won’t take it all. I can stop myself before it’s too late.” My hunger turned me into something other than myself, other than the shy and awkward kid who’d only allowed herself crushes on a couple of guys before. The girl who shielded her heart to keep it from being broken. The one who looked in the mirror and still only saw a skinny girl with long, wild hair and barely enough chest to stuff in the smallest bra on the rack.

But Bishop had never looked at me like I was that girl. He looked at me like I was something amazing. Something beautiful beyond words. Something he wanted more than anything or anyone else.

And, at the moment, with the sounds of Ambrosia now only a distant echo, I knew he was every bit as lost as I was.

He drew closer, closer until finally...finally, his lips brushed against mine.

Chapter 16

I literally groaned with pleasure to be able to touch him, to taste him. Bishop’s breath was so warm, so sweet. I wanted more...

“Please,” I whispered, staring deep into his blue eyes. “Bishop, please—”

Snap!

It’s done.

The knife in my hand clatters to the  ground. The blood wells beside his body. He stares up at me as he gasps for  his last breath. He stares at me as if looking at a stranger instead of his  own brother.

“Why would you do this?” he whispers.  “Why?”

“Because you had to die today.” I would  think I should feel something at this moment, some form of regret, but I  feel nothing. Nothing at all.

“You know what happens to me now. Don’t  you care?”

“No, I don’t.”

“What did she promise you? What’s your  reward?” The pain in his gaze that I would surprise him like this, that I’d  stab my own brother in the back without warning, is deeper than his physical  pain.

“Goodbye, James.” I turn from him toward  the door.

“You’ll burn for this, you stupid son of a  bitch.”

I glance over my shoulder to see the  shadows already rising up to claim him. “No. You will.”

Snap!

Bishop staggered back from me, his eyes wide. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, stifling a scream.

“What did you—?” he began, but then his words broke off. There must have been something in my eyes, some shock and horror, that stopped him from asking what I’d seen.

“Stay here,” he said sharply, averting his gaze. “I’m going to search the club for Stephen.”

He knew I’d seen another memory of his past, but I didn’t think he knew which one in particular. Any memory, according to Bishop, was an invasion of his privacy, of his mind. And it could lead to jarring revelations.

He was absolutely right about that.

The next moment he was gone. My mind cleared a fraction at a time, but I trembled as I pressed up against the wall.

When I had the memory melds, it was as if I was Bishop. I saw what he’d seen, I heard what he’d heard. I felt what he’d felt.

But it was different this time. Something had been very wrong with him.

Watching Kraven die in that memory had shaken me more than anything I’d faced because the person who killed him was the one person I’d quickly come to care about more than anyone else.

And the more I learned about Bishop, the more shaken I became.

Someone who’d done something so horrible, who’d murdered his own brother in cold blood...how was he given the chance to become an angel?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone pass by outside the beaded curtain. My breath caught.

It was Stephen.

Without waiting another second or thinking about it first, I hurried after him, trying desperately to keep him in view through the mass of people.

I finally caught up to him by the stairs, catching his arm. “Stephen!”

He spun to face me. His face was pale, his eyes wild and unfocused. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to find you.” I turned to frantically scan the club for Kraven and Bishop, but they were nowhere to be seen.