Jaci Burton - Taken by Sin

Dalton was speechless. His gaze shot to the Archangel, whose lips twitched.

“‘You people’? Outspoken, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea.”

“Dalton, how could you expect to me to live happily ever after, knowing I brought you damnation with the Sons of Darkness? Do you think I’d be content just because you took the demon blood away from me? I’d be miserable. I’d rather be dead or living with the demon inside me than know you suffered because of me.” She turned her gaze to the Archangel. “Please, don’t let this happen. I love him. He’s deserving of redemption. He’s already paid the price for his sins. Don’t make him do it twice.”

The Archangel grinned. “You made a very wise choice, Dalton. One hell of a hard road to earn your redemption, though.”

He vanished in another burst of brilliant white.

Dalton smiled. The Archangel always loved those dramatic exits. He turned to Isabelle, pulled her into his arms. “I will always love you. Don’t ever forget that.” He pressed his lips to hers, then felt the world spinning out of control. He could no longer feel Isabelle’s body. Or his own, for that matter.

He saw the panic in her wide eyes, saw her arms reaching out for him, but he was no longer there.

I’m sorry, Isabelle.

His world went dark. He closed his eyes and he awaited his punishment, awaited the heat, the flames.

Awaited his eternity in hell.

As long as Isabelle was safe, he was content.

Panic sent Isabelle into a tailspin. Dalton had vanished right in front of her. First the Archangel, then Dalton. What did it mean? The flames no longer surrounded her; Tase was gone. Everything had gone back to normal except that Dalton wasn’t there.

Her gaze shot to Georgie. “Tell me what happened here.”

“It’s done,” Georgie said. “But nothing was as we thought.”

“What the hell does that mean? Where is Dalton?”

Even Georgie looked confused. “I don’t know. He disappeared.”

“You all saw that, didn’t you?” she asked, turning around to all the hunters. “You saw him vanish.”

Michael nodded, looking somber. “Yes.”

“Did you see the Archangel?”

Michael frowned. “Who?”

“The Archangel. The angel. Flowing raven hair, dressed all in white, wings a mile wide?”

Georgie shook her head. “We saw no angel. You did?”

“Yes. How could you not see him?”

“It doesn’t matter that we didn’t. You did. He spoke to you and Dalton?”

Frustrated, Isabelle sighed. “He took Dalton. I know he did. He gave Dalton what he wanted.”

“Redemption?” Georgie asked.

Tears burned Isabelle’s eyes, choked her as she fought for the words, hating that she had to say them out loud. “No. Damnation.”

Her legs refused to support her and she sank to the ground, shaking. Georgie was the first one there to wrap her arms around her.

“Isabelle, stand.”

“I can’t.” The splash of hot tears rolled down Isabelle’s cheeks in rivulets she didn’t even try to hide. He was gone. Vanished. Had the Archangel given Dalton what he’d asked for? The demon inside her had gone, too. She no longer struggled against it, trying to keep it from surfacing.

Instead, the worst form of emptiness she’d ever felt wrapped itself around her. Where had Dalton gone?

Angelique knelt down beside her, stroked her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Isabelle tilted her head back to stare up at Angelique. “He did this for me. I’m not worth it, Angie. How could he have sacrificed so much for me?”

“Because he loved you, baby. He really loved you that much.”

Her sister understood. She knew what had happened. Isabelle was free of her demon, but she’d lost the one thing, the only thing that was important to her. She couldn’t survive this. It hurt too much.

She bent forward, pressed her head against her knees, and sobbed. Her heart was torn in two. She never thought she could feel this much pain, never thought anything could hurt this much.

She cried until there was nothing left, until she felt sick. Then hands reached underneath her and lifted her. Through swollen lids she recognized Michael, who picked her up and started toward the main house.

“No. Wait. I want to go to the cabin.”

Michael shook his head. “You can’t be there alone.”

“Yes, I can. I’ll be fine. It’s just up the road from the main house. You can leave someone there with me if you want. I need to be where Dalton was.” She clutched his shirt. “Please.”

He relented and carried her toward the cabin, laid her down on the bed, and covered her.

Angie was there a minute later, pressing a cool, wet washcloth over her face. It felt good, washing away some of the grit and the tears.

“You want me to stay with you?” she asked.

“No. I need to be alone. I need to process all of this.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

Isabelle loved her sister. It would be good to spend time with her again. Just not right now, not when she was so raw, when everything hurt so damn much. “I’ll be all right. Please, just let me be. I need to sleep. I’m so tired, Angie.”

Angie pressed a cool hand to her forehead, then swept it down her cheek. “You’re not alone, Izzy I’m here. We’re all here for you. You’re never going to be alone.”

Isabelle grasped her sister’s wrist. “I never told you how sorry I am.”

Angie tilted her head. “For what?”

“For Sicily. For what I tried to do to you.”

Her sister smiled, tenderness and love reflected in her eyes. “That wasn’t you, Izzy. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

The tears started fresh. “You’re too forgiving.”

Angie bent down and kissed her cheek, then slid a box of tissues in front of her. “And you’re not forgiving enough of yourself. Let it go.”

Isabelle nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Ryder and I are going to stay here with you. We’ll be in the other room if you need us.”

“Okay.”

Angie left and closed the door, leaving Isabelle in blissful darkness.

Exhaustion took over and she fell into a hard, dreamless sleep. When she woke, it was still dark.

Something had awakened her. A sound, maybe?

Fear jacked her heartbeat up to a hard pounding. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood.

Maybe it was Angie coming back to check on her. But if it was, she’d be in here by now. Isabelle stared at the closed bedroom door for a full minute, waiting. Nothing happened.

Probably just her imagination. She went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, then turned off the light. As she walked through the doorway back into the bedroom, her breath caught as she saw a dark shape stepping through the sliding glass door to the bedroom.

Hadn’t that been closed and locked when she’d come in here? She couldn’t remember. She glanced at the door leading to the living room, to Ryder and Angie, and back at the figure who stood like a sentinel now that he was fully in the room.

She could scream, or she could run. She could do both.

She had to do something, and now.

“Isabelle. Don’t scream.”

It was a whispered plea.

In Dalton’s voice.

Isabelle reached for the doorway, dizziness weakening her knees.

Dalton? It couldn’t be.

But as he moved toward her, she found herself unable to move. She recognized his walk, though. And the closer he came, the more familiar the shadow seemed.

Was she still dreaming? Maybe she wasn’t awake at all.

He reached her, and pulled her upright. And oh, God, it was his face. His hands were warm as he snaked them around her waist to drag her against him. His kiss was tender, and oh, so real.