He let go of me and took a step backward. “That’s not my name.”
“Yes, it is.” I clasped my hands together to keep them from trembling. “Adam Drake. It’s your name, so don’t even try lying to me. Like I said, I’m sick of lies and secrets. You could have told me the truth, but you didn’t. I had to hear it from somebody else.”
He shook his head, his expression bleak and pale. “No.”
“Adam Drake, eighteen years old in 1878. You killed all those people. It wasn’t only Kraven you murdered. You killed them and you were put to death for it. And yet you still became an angel. Such a mystery, huh? One I’m trying like hell to figure out before it drives me completely insane.”
His eyes glowed blue now, the rest of his face a mask of misery. “How did you—”
“There wasn’t much information about your victims online, but there’s that number that keeps flashing in my mind. Twenty-five victims, starting with your brother. Is that why Heaven thought you’d make a stellar angel of death—because you sent him to Hell? How many have you killed since then?”
He kept walking back as I moved closer until he hit the wall of the church. He stared at me as if every word that spilled from my mouth stunned him. “Countless, Samantha. I’ve killed countless people in Heaven’s name. All people who’ve deserved my blade for what they’ve done—for the threat they presented to the balance.”
“What about the ones when you were alive? Answer me, Bishop.” I had to use that name since it was how I knew him. His real name might be Adam, but he would always be Bishop to me. “Did they deserve it, too? Do you remember killing them?”
“Yes.” His jaw tightened so much it looked painful, and anguish slid through his eyes. “I remember every single one. But I don’t remember why I did it. That’s the worst part. I remember killing them, killing James, but I don’t remember what made me do it. Maybe I snapped. Maybe I’ve always been crazy.”
I turned to look at him again, my fists clenched at my sides. I’d wanted some tidy answers, but all I got were more messy questions.
The crunch of gravel alerted me to someone’s approach.
“Well, well, well,” Kraven drawled. “Look who it is. My little brother and his one and only true love. Sorry to interrupt any outdoor sexcapades. Happily, you still have your clothes on. It is a little chilly tonight.”
Bishop’s glowing gaze moved to the demon. “You told her, didn’t you?”
“Told her? Told her what?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, that. Oops. Shouldn’t I have said anything?”
“You son of a bitch.”
“You got that much right.”
“Why?” Bishop’s voice was soft, but his gaze hardened. “Why would you tell her? What good does it do anyone?”
“Good?” Kraven snorted. “Sorry, I think you’re forgetting I’m a demon. We don’t really specialize in good. Mayhem, chaos, misery—that’s more my ticket. Get all those malicious feelings out. Balance scales to the dark side a smidgeon. Delicious.”
“You really hate me that much?”
Kraven’s eyes glowed red. “Oh, little brother. I can’t even express in words how much I hate you. How much I want to see you suffer for what you did to me. So if I can cause any additional pain in that deteriorating brain of yours, I consider it a personal victory. Does she hate you now because of this? Sweetness might be a nexus, but right now she seems to trend toward the lighter side of the scale. She can’t deal with the true nastiness that comes with falling for something like you.” He laughed. “So now what happens, little brother? Do you kill her, too? Do you fulfill your Heavenly mission, no matter who your victim has to be? Whatever they say, right? Come on, where’s that shiny dagger of yours? Let’s get this party started!”
“I’m not killing her,” Bishop said evenly, every word as sharp as a blade. “Even if Heaven made it a direct order—I wouldn’t do it. I don’t care if they destroy this city, if they destroy this entire damn world. I would never hurt her.”
Kraven made a face. “I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.”
I stared at Bishop. Even though there was that edge of madness in his words tonight, he sounded so damn sincere.
For a moment, I’d doubted. After everything that had happened between us, I’d still doubted him.
I was such an idiot.
From the first moment I saw him, there was something there. And yeah, maybe it started off as an instant attraction to his soul, but it was something. And it had only grown since that night when my life had changed irrevocably. Now it wasn’t due to a soul or an instinct or a moment of irresistible craving...for me it was real.
I could never love somebody who hurt people for fun. Who killed because it was a rush, a hobby, something they felt no remorse for. I wasn’t interested in falling for a sociopath now or ever, no matter who he was.
I’d never really totally trusted my heart, even when it was yelling so loudly it was impossible to ignore. And I didn’t really favor doing spontaneous things—things that could get me in trouble at school or put into the backseat of a police car.
Sometimes, though, I had no other choice.
Sometimes, there was only one answer and it appeared with crystal clarity and stubbornly stuck around even when challenged again and again.