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guest has come for me," he said, eyes never leaving mine. "Am I correct?"
"You are," I said.
His gaze slid over me and he smiled. "When the angels send me a woman, they don't skimp, do they?"
To my left, the werewolf snarled, his hooded gaze fixed on Dachev.
"Your fun is over, pets," Dachev said. "Go back to your lairs."
They hesitated but, after a mutter here, a grumble there, started to fall back.
"Come," Dachev said to me. "We'll speak at my house."
"No, we'll speak over there," I said, waving at the meadow.
He nodded and tried to motion me forward, but I pointed at the road and, with a small smile, he took the
lead.
Chapter 42
AS I WALKED BEHIND DACHEV, I KEPT GLANCING OVER my shoulder. None of the others
followed us. Dachev must wield some power here like the first man to travel beyond his prehistoric
village and discover the existence of a greater world. Unlike those early explorers, I doubted Dachev
shared his knowledge with his comrades, instead retaining that false edge of superiority for as long as he
could.
When we reached the meadow, I led Dachev to a spot in the middle. Then I had a decision to
make turn my back to the village, to the forest at the other end, or to the meadow stretching off to
either side. I chose the forest; it was far enough away that no one could leap out of it unnoticed, and I
wanted to keep both eyes on that village.
As I turned to Dachev, I found him studying me, not with the insolent leer from earlier, but an academic
stare, accompanied by a slight frown.
"We have met, have we not?" he said. "You appear familiar& and yet& " His frown flipped into a broad
grin. "I'm quite certain I wouldn't forget such an angel. So much prettier than the other one they sent. He
wasn't my type at all."
"We've never met," I said. "The last time you were topside, I hadn't even been born."
He gave me another once-over, pausing at my eyes, his confusion obvious. He recognized something
there& just wasn't sure what it was. Too bad. If he didn't know I was a witch, I wasn't enlightening him
about that, any more than I was letting him know I wasn't an angel.
"Do you have a name, pretty one?" he asked.
"Everyone does."
He waited. When I said nothing, his lips tweaked in a smile.
"The exchange of names is the first part of any polite conversation," he said.
"Yep," I said. "It is."
When I didn't continue, he laughed. "Not even going to humor me, are you? The other one did. He was
very polite. Very& understanding. And most companionable. I think he wanted to be my friend."
"I'm sure he did."
Dachev's brows lifted as he tried to suppress a grin. "You doubt his sincerity? Oh, but he was so sincere.
He didn't make me stand in this meadow. He accepted my invitation, came right to my house, to prove
how much he trusted me. Don't you trust me?"
"No."
Another barely contained grin. "You should. It makes things so much more pleasant. The other angel sat
right at my table and told me he understood that I'd been tempted and succumbed. After all, I was
human& just as he'd been, so he understood temptation. What the Fates did to me was wrong, putting
this poor sinner in such a situation, into contact with one such as the Nix. She tempted me, and I fell from
grace."
"Uh-huh. Moving right along. You know why I'm here, so "
"See? Now you're being rude. Katsuo was so much nicer. He wasn't in a hurry. He listened to me,
listened most intently as I confessed my sins and told him what the Nix and I had done. Then I told him
what I wished I'd done& in beautiful, intricate detail, everything I wished I could have done to those
women, if only it had been me in those killers' bodies. I described every cut I would have made, every
degradation I would have inflicted." Dachev's face gathered in a mock frown. "That's when he left. Left
without even saying good-bye." He looked over at me. "Do you think Katsuo remembers me? Perhaps in
his dreams?" He flashed a wide smile. "I hope so."
I said nothing.
"Do angels dream?" he said. "Can they have nightmares? Or are they all dreams like this?" He waved a
dismissive hand around the meadow. "Visions of wildflowers and sunny skies. We dream, you know.
When we sleep, the cracks in our memory open, just enough to let out a flash here, a glimpse there. And
there are no wildflowers and sunny skies in our dreams. Sometimes I hear the others screaming. They
keep me awake at night."
"Damned shame."
A shark-toothed smile. "A damned shame indeed. You aren't even going to feign sympathy, are you?"
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