He pulled me down into the snow with him, wrapping his wings around us so I might as well have been on a feather bed in a parka.
I didn't know how I felt about the gray owl feathers either. They always squished my face, making me sneeze.
Schubert's quartet peaked. Samael spooned me against his chest, arms wrapped round me like a mummy. Samael lay like a corpse for a moment, apparently getting in the zone. I grimaced as he stiffened. He laughed roughly at my unease.
"That's just wrong," I informed him.
"Rigor mortis, sunshine. Angel lust-"
"Don't go there. No jokes about 'little deaths,' either. Or embalming fluids. I can't do this if you're a creep."
He sighed in disappointment. Delicately, he eased open my sweater and cradled the rosary in one hand. He slipped the other one between my legs and I gasped. Our legs twined together as I rested my head on his bicep, taking quick breaths. Those, I definitely approved of.
"Did you think this would keep me away?"
