Avenger's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels by Heather Killough-Walden Page B

handsomeness.
    “Why did you keep it secret?” she asked. Why was he so secretive in general?
    “I suppose I’m nearly as used to hiding as you must be.” This he said with a lowered head and a meaningful look through the tops of his charcoal-colored eyes. She knew damned well what he was referring to. She had saved him, so he obviously knew she could heal people. And he must realize that a power like that was too valuable. He knew she must always be on the run.
    And, of course, in the back of her mind, she wondered whether she would have to run from him as well. And whether it would do any good to run from one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the country.
    Eleanore looked away. “Frankly, I doubt it.” What could he possibly have to hide that was as bad a secret as hers?
    Sam slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You don’t think so?” he asked.
    She glanced up at him. He was looking at the floor, his gaze contemplative. He turned away from her to walk to a plush overstuffed chair beside a folded screen on the other side of the room. He gracefully sat down and then pinned her with his powerful gaze once more.
    Eleanore was instantly arrested. His expression was painfully intense. She fidgeted and sat up straighter to swing her legs over the side of the bed. She still felt weak, but not uncomfortably so.
    “In truth, there are people that I’d rather not have knowing where I am.”
    “You’re hiding from them?”
    He nodded.
    “Why?”
    He didn’t answer. He just smiled a small, secret smile and the glint of his eyes told her that an answer wouldn’t be coming anytime soon.
    “It’s really that bad?” she asked, bewildered.
    His smile turned rather nasty. “You have no idea.”
    Again, he stood and this time he strode all the way across the room to the door. “I’ll have some clothes brought up for you,” he told her as he pulled the door open and turned to face her. “There’s a light meal waiting downstairs; I know you must be hungry.” He smiled a tender, gentle smile. “Healing people obviously takes a lot out of a person. I’m indebted to you.” He paused long enough to let this sink in.
    Eleanore blushed and looked away.
    “When you’ve finished, I’ll be happy to give you a ride back to your apartment.”
    She nodded. Then he opened the door, stepped out into the hall, and closed it behind him, leaving her alone.
     
    Out in the hall, Samael stopped and ran a shaking hand through his white-blond hair. Then he lowered his hand and looked at it.
    This is unexpected , he thought. I’m trembling?
    She was getting to him. Her nearness. Her perfection. Knowing what she was and what she meant—it was too much. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she might feel.
    And she was so good . She’s been created as a mate for an angel—and yet here she was, her own woman, replete with her own thoughts and morals and her own lifetime to back them up. She was her own person.
    She no more belonged to Uriel than Samael had belonged to the Old Man.
    It was strange for him to realize all of this. He’d never thought so much about one human being before. It was making him feel . . . off . Not quite himself.
    Samael moved down the hall to the top of the marble staircase.
    “Jason, where is Lilith?” he called down to the young man who was walking through the foyer below, a cell phone to one ear.
    The man immediately disconnected the call and pocketed the phone. “I’m not certain, my lord. But I will find her for you right away.”
    Samael nodded once, and then descended the stairs. Jason met him at the landing.
    “Do you mind my asking how our guest is doing?” Jason inquired. He was a handsome young man with brown hair and blue eyes. As he had been when he was with Sam in Eleanore’s apartment, he was once more dressed in a very expensive blue suit. He appeared tall, though not as tall as his master. He was also fairly well built.
    There was the air of wisdom and silent