Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) Read Online Free

lowered his voice. "And I don't know, which
makes it more thrilling, for some reason."
    "All I'm trying to say is, how are we going
to, you know--ugh!" I buried my head between my legs. "I can't
believe I said it again."
    Oz laughed and patted my back. I wondered how
he could stand hanging around me. I mean, the angel didn't really
have a say in the matter, but Oz did.
    I lifted my head slowly. His eyes were wide,
dewy and tender, like I'd just done something unbelievably
cute.
    Well, I at least agreed with
the 'unbelievable' part. I contemplated holding the Beauty pillow
over my face like a mask and continuing the conversation that way.
"Alright, I am having a really hard time talking about this
while that thing is
here. I mean, how am I supposed to make out with my boyfriend while
an angel is standing there in the corner, watching us?"
    The angel cleared his
throat. Please, please don't share tips on
how to make out with my boyfriend in front of you.
    He didn't.
    But unfortunately what he said was even
worse.
    "You're always being watched, Devi. Even if I
wasn't here, God would be watching."
    At that second, a little part of me died. All
I wanted to do was close my eyes and never wake up; all I could do
was stare at the angel as he stared back.
    Oz fell back on the bed, groaning as he
rubbed his temples. "Camael, don't talk anymore."
    "Did he just say what I think he said?" I
asked, voice hoarse.
    His lips curled into a demonic grin. My heart
started pounding in my chest, but before I had time to dash away he
pulled me down next to him. Then he grabbed the blankets bunched up
at the foot of the bed and threw them over us.
    "You're not going to attack me, are you?" I
asked.
    He inched closer--so close, in fact, that I
could feel his lips smiling as he laughed. It tickled a bit. "Not
unless you want me to."
    Did I? I twisted my hands together. Breathing
was difficult. So was thinking. And Beauty wouldn't save me now. I
couldn't see anything in the dark, though I had no trouble feeling
the heat from his body.
    "Hold on, I need something." I threw off the
blankets and breathed deeply. Even though I wasn't under the covers
with him anymore, my nerves were still acting up. Oz's soft fingers
lingered over my hand, silently begging to caress it. And I wanted
him to. I wanted--
    I opened my eyes and saw the angel perched on
the little wooden children's chair near the door.
    He'd turned off the overhead light. Moonlight
collected on his silhouette, making him glow and bleed into the
silver-looking walls of my room. He did not fit in with the mundane
surroundings of my suburban home--thrift store clothes stored in
heaping piles on the floor, cheap genre books with well-worn
spines, and scattered papers containing scribbled poems I'd
abandoned half way through.
    I felt some strange desire to offer him a
blanket, even though he didn't look cold, and probably lacked the
ability to even feel cold. Maybe it was just due to the memory of
his skin, cool as polished stone.
    I reached down into the space next to the
bedside table and grabbed my flashlight, then dashed under the
sheets. "This is better," I stammered. Then I glanced at Oz, and
forgot all about the angel.
    He looked like one of those unattainable bad
boys in grungy clothes that designer companies photograph to sell
expensive jeans and cologne. Those models were usually on a beach
at midnight, or on the floor of a hotel room in Paris, but this one
was in my bed. And he was staring at me so intensely that the only
words that came to my mind were 'demon in the sack.'
    "What are you smiling about?" He
murmured.
    I bit my lip. I just couldn't tell him. He'd
enjoy it too much.
    "I used to read with this when I was a kid."
I held the flashlight under my chin. "My brother and I would hold
it under our faces, just like this, and take turns telling
stories."
    He raised his eyebrows, so I raised mine too.
So what if I didn't exactly answer his question? I'd still told him
something true. No