He didn't greet her. Didn't ask why she was there. Didn't look all smug and triumphant at the fact that she'd come to him, which surprised her. He simply waited.
Conscious of the time ticking by, she took a single step toward him. "I'll understand if you tell me to fuck off—I wouldn't even blame you for it. I've done nothing that would give me the right to come to you for help, but I don't know who else to ask."
He still didn't speak. He just kept watching her, expectant.
"I realize this is a long shot, but you're the only person I know who might be able to point me in the right direction. I once heard that it wasn't only angels that fell from heaven long ago; that some archangels fell along with them and copulated with demons."
His expression didn't whatsoever change, giving her no hint as to whether the rumor had any substance.
"Do you know of anyone who might have descended from archangels?"
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Why?" he asked, his authoritative voice pitched low and deep.
She'd never admit it aloud, but she liked his voice. Liked hearing it in her mind. Still, she'd never replied to any of his mundane, throwaway questions. She definitely hadn't replied when he straight up told her he wanted to strip her naked and feast on every inch of her.
"I really need to get in touch with one," she told him.
"And why would that be?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but a ball of emotion clogged her throat. She didn't want to speak the words. Saying it aloud would make it real. Still, she swallowed hard and forced herself to respond, "My friend, Khloë … she's dying." The words sounded like crushed rock.
Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his face. "She's injured?"
"Yes and no. She was hit by an orb of death essence. Twice. She doesn't have long left." Raini felt tears pool in her eyes, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. There'd be no hiding them from him. "An angel tried to help her but couldn't. I know it's possible that a demon who's descended from an archangel might be just as useless to her, but I can ask."
Maddox stared at her long and hard, much like he had the first night they met. A smile didn't touch his mouth this time, though. His face remained an impassive mask as that vacant stare drank her in for what felt like minutes.
She went to push for an answer, but then finally he moved. Her pulse began to quicken as he started to cross the space between them, each step slow and purposeful.
His eyes flitted over her face, which was no doubt lined with her fear for Khloë. "It wasn't easy for you to come to me," he sensed.
No, it hadn't been. It had meant breaking all sorts of promises she'd made to herself.
His gaze tracked the path of a tear that had dripped down one side of her face. He gently thumbed it away. "She means so much to you?"
Raini swallowed around the hard knot that wouldn't leave her throat. "Yes." And if she had to beg him for help, she would. She wasn't too proud to do it if it meant that Khloë would live.
He twisted his mouth. "I can heal her."
For a moment, Raini could only stare at him, shocked. "You … you can heal her?" she asked, embers of hope flickering to life in her belly. At the same time, though, a hint of unease snaked through her, because it meant he possessed the blood of both a demon and an archangel—that could never be a good mix.