“Let us keep walking,” Nathaniel finally said. “There may be other creatures lurking and it is unwise for us to linger so long in an exposed area.”

As we walked it was hard to get my mind off the tale that Nathaniel had just told. It made me see him in an entirely different light, one in which his selfish behavior and his icy demeanor were just a shield to protect himself. Nathaniel was brooding, locked in his own thoughts.

We continued on the path around the aquarium without further incident. I wondered what would become of all the animals inside with no keepers to care for them.

Beezle liked to go to the aquarium sometimes—safely hidden in my pocket, of course. He enjoyed the seahorses, of all things, and the otters. He also liked the popcorn stand on the lower level, because he could eat popcorn and watch the dolphins swimming.

No one would be taking care of the dolphins now, or the sharks or the starfish. Some of them might be dead already with the power out and the filters on the tanks silent. Whatever wasn’t dead would be soon.

It was another problem I could not fix, another tragedy I couldn’t prevent. And then I was crying again, crying so hard I could hardly see in front of me. It was almost foolish to weep over animals when so many people had died in one day, but I couldn’t help it. I was sick of death. In my life I’d seen more of it than I ever wanted.

Nathaniel stopped, touched my shoulder. I turned toward him. He did not offer platitudes. He did not embrace me. He wiped the tears from my cheeks with his hands, his face troubled. His hands lingered on my face, cupped it as he studied me. The silence between us stretched thin. I realized I held my breath, and my tears had stopped.

“You do not love me,” Nathaniel said. His voice was steady.

I thought of Gabriel. “No.”

“You do not need love for this,” he said, and then his mouth was on mine, savage and unrelenting, taking my breath away.

6

I FELT THE FLARE OF HEAT BETWEEN US, THE POWER that flowed from him now that he had been restored by sleep. I clung to him, unsure about what I needed but knowing that this was what I wanted.

Nathaniel offered me no comfort. He did not treat me gently. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted his power and his ferocity. I wanted him to be everything Gabriel wasn’t so that I could forget how much it hurt, just for a little while.

He pulled his mouth away, his breath harsh, and looked into my eyes. “You do not need to love me. But you do need to choose me.”

I started to speak, but he put his thumb over my mouth.

“If you choose me because you want comfort, I will not object. If you choose me because you want to forget, I do not object. If it is simply a matter of lust, I do not object. But I want you to look at me and know who I am. I want you to choose me, not fall into my arms in secret and pretend I am somebody else.”

I nodded. He was right. However complicated our relationship was, he didn’t deserve to be a cipher for Gabriel. Gabriel’s memory was worth more than that to me.

“I’m not ready to make that choice,” I said, moving reluctantly away from him.

He released me, his hands brushing over my throat, my shoulders, before pulling away.

“Do not wait too long, or you may find your choices taken from you.”

“What does that mean?” I asked as we began walking north again. Nothing stirred this close to the lake except for us. It was like Nathaniel and I were the last two people on earth.

“I am aware that you do not make yourself a priority; nor would you wish to contemplate matters of court politics when there is a larger crisis at hand,” he began.

“I’m sure you’ve heard what I think of fallen politics even when there’s not an apocalypse going down.”

Nathaniel nodded, acknowledging the truth of this statement. “However, you cannot think that Lord Lucifer will let you go long without a consort, especially in your current condition.”

The bars of the cage were closing around me. “Are you saying I’d better choose a partner soon or Lucifer will choose one for me? Are you offering to sacrifice yourself?”

“You could do far worse than I. J.B. is also an acceptable choice.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Most guys don’t like to talk up the competition when they’re trying to get a girl.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “J.B. is steadfast. He is both magically powerful and politically well connected. If you married him, you would be somewhat protected from Titania’s wrath.”

“I notice you only say ‘somewhat’ protected,” I said.

“You diminished Oberon in front of his queen and the highest court in the faerie kingdom. Whatever the terms of your trial by combat, Titania will not be able to let such an insult stand. But if you marry the king of a lower court, she will not be able to kill you outright. And there are more ways to protect your child from her if you are wed.”

“You’re not making a real strong case for yourself, pal.”

“Very well,” Nathaniel said, drawing himself up. “I am the only son of Zerachiel of the Grigori and Cassiel, an angel of the host. I served as the right hand of Azazel for over two thousand years, and I have pledged my fealty to Lord Lucifer, your grandfather. If you were to wed me, you can be assured that I would devote myself to you and the protection of your child.”

I shook my head at him. “You still don’t get it. Politics and status don’t matter to me.”

“They should. But that is not all I have to offer,” he said, and then his hand was beneath my coat.