Death and the Girl Next Door - Page 46/79

“Do you want to try another sandwich?” I asked. “Or maybe some soup?”

When he shook his head, I stood and pulled his shirt back down over the cut. I felt so guilty. What he did for me had obviously cost him a great deal. And there I sat, offering a supreme being a grilled cheese sandwich. A stab of regret shot through my heart. He was there because of me. And he clearly didn’t want to be.

“I’m so sorry, Jared. You’ve lost everything because of me.”

He grabbed my hands as they fitted his shirt around him. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his tone full of surprise. “Do you think I don’t want to be here because I’ve lost something?”

The warmth of his hands seeped into my skin. “Of course. You’re stuck here because of me. You’ve lost everything.”

“Lorelei, I am stuck here because of me. Because I changed history, remember? Locking on to this plane is the least of my worries.” He squeezed, then let go.

“I don’t understand. You said you didn’t know why it happened.”

“And I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here because of it.”

I wound a loose string on my shirt around my fingers. “Then why don’t you want to be here?”

He took hold of the string and pulled me closer. “My presence, my reasons and intent, they all risk your soul, Lorelei, your salvation.”

“In what way?”

“A seraphim, even an archangel, cannot be with a human. It is forbidden.” He stood also and looked down at me. “I don’t want to be here, because my presence risks everything I care for. And yet, the thought of being anywhere else in the universe floods me with unbearable pain.”

While he said many things, I heard only one. “So, you do want to be here?”

I held my breath as he thought about his answer.

“More than anything,” he said. Then his brows inched together. “I have never been tempted. Since the earth was being formed beneath my feet, I have never longed to taste the nectar of humans, the forbidden fruit of seraphim. And then I saw you. My mouth waters every time you are near.” He squared his shoulders and confessed, “I can only hope that when you know all there is to know, you can forgive me my trespasses.”

I stood utterly mesmerized, lost in his words. How was this even possible, that I was the forbidden fruit of a god? Holy freaking cow. With a mental shake, I tamped down the elation shooting through me and focused on the brunt of the situation. Feeling somewhat like an impetuous child, I asked, “But what about Jophiel? The archangel who visited Cameron’s mom? Wasn’t that forbidden?”

“His sacrifice was in the service of humankind. My desires are a bit more … self-serving,” he said with a wry gleam. “So, no, Lorelei, I should not be here. In a thousand different ways, I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, that makes two of us, remember?” I said, my brain straining for a solution, some loophole we could jump through. “I’m supposed to be dead. So either join the club or start one of your own.” I grabbed the ointment and put the lid back on before looking up at him again.

After a moment, he said, “Did you know your mouth tilts sideways when you’re being sarcastic?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re trashed.” I pulled him around the bed and eased him onto it. He needed to rest. “You can have my bed. I’ll sleep with Brooke.”

“No.” Without another word, he carefully lowered himself onto the floor beside the bed, halting when a jolt of pain shot through him.

“Jared, you can’t sleep on the floor,” I said, appalled. “You need to rest, not toss and turn all night.”

With an evil grin, he reached up and stole one of two pillows off the bed. “I’ll be fine.” He crossed his arms behind his head and lay back. I chuckled and dragged my comforter off, tossing it over him. “Thank you,” he said, his voice soft as though he were almost asleep already.

I watched as his eyes drifted shut, his presence powerful even at rest.

“And if Cameron of Jophiel takes a baseball bat to me in my sleep, I’ll snap his neck.”

Sobering instantly, I crawled onto the bed, shoes and all. “I’ll pass along the warning,” I said, surrendering to weariness.

“I should not be here, Lorelei McAlister,” he said, his speech slurring with fatigue, “and yet, I have never felt so at peace.”

My eyes flew open and I looked over the side of the bed. “You’re at peace?” I asked, but he was asleep before I finished the question.

I rested my head so I could examine him, shivering as every nerve ending I possessed tingled. I liked the feel of him close by, the rhythmic sound of his breathing, the clean smell of his breath and hair. But the niggling in the back of my mind grew stronger the more I looked at him. He was utterly magnificent. A higher being. A supreme entity. What would he want with a pixie stick like me? He could have anyone in the universe, literally, and he was stuck on Earth. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out reality. Despite the fact that having a real relationship with Jared was supposedly forbidden, and I certainly didn’t want to get him into any more trouble than he was already in, I prayed he would still be there in the morning.

VISIONS OF SUGARPLUMS

“Can’t you sleep?”

I raised my head and tried to open my lead-filled lids. I was sleeping just fine, thank you very much.