Chasing Angel (Divisa #3)
J. L. Weil
Chapter 1
There is a brief moment when you first wake where you have no memories. An idyllic blank slate. A blissful emptiness. But it doesn’t last long. You remember exactly who you are and all the terrible things you’ve gone through. Like in my case…
Dying.
Being brought back from death.
Being kidnapped.
Watching the guy you love kill someone to keep you safe.
Or realizing you can’t have the one thing you want most.
Him.
In every way possible. In the most intimate way possible. Because if you do, you will fulfill some ungodly binding triforce that, as far as anyone knows, has never been done before.
Welcome to a day in the life of Angel Morgan.
God, my life was a clusterfuck. It never lacked for excitement—that was for sure—which some people might thrive on. I wasn’t one of those thrill seekers. Nope. I was a simple girl, with simple dreams and simple ideas, living in simple Spring Valley, Illinois.
What did I want from life?
Well for starters, how about for once, I don’t have to be scared out of my wits? I don’t have to constantly feel like my life is being threatened. I want to live in a world without evil.
God, I sounded like such a whiner.
What I really wanted was…
Love. Safety. Chase.
Who didn’t want those?
The damnedest thing was, I never imagined in a million, gazillion years that I would find love in the smallest of ho-dunk towns, or that I would fall hopelessly in love with someone not quite human—a half-demon nonetheless.
Chase Winters was made of stuff that was written in books—seen in movies—not quite real. He was a different breed of hotness. He skated a fine line between good and bad, constantly having to suppress the demon that lived inside him. I think I loved him more because of it.
And he was mine.
Well, almost all mine.
There was just this one teeny, tiny thing we’d been avoiding, or more like Chase had been avoiding. We didn’t talk about it, but it was there, in the room with us, always on the back of our minds. At least on my mind, and I assumed on his. He was a guy after all. They are supposed to think about it 25-8, right?
It.
Sex.
Just the idea of it stole my breath; the third part that would bind us together in crazy ways that I didn’t understand. The only thing I was sure of was it had something to do with our bodies. And that was kind of hot and alluring. It was also frightening. He might be resisting the temptation, but we both knew in the end, it couldn’t be helped. There was an undeniable attraction between us, pushing us together by forces I could barely comprehend. This whole “being bound to someone” took some getting used to, and I still didn’t fully understand how it worked, but it made me feel fuzzy inside.
I wasn’t really even sure how I felt about this whole binding triforce stuff. Was it something I should want? Was it going to change me? Mutate my DNA more than it already had? Each time we bound ourselves deeper, I became less human and more…I didn’t know what, but regardless the wheels had already been set in motion. There was no stopping, only prolonging.
Soul—check.
Heart—check.
Body—to be determined.
Trust me, it wasn’t without effort or want on my part. I pretty much attacked Chase every chance I got. He suddenly had the willpower of a saint. Go figure. He was the one who was half-demon, yet I was the one having all the impure thoughts.
Like now.
He was in my kitchen making a snack and all I could think about was licking his abs. It was as if my hormones had been amped up after the whole heartbond thingy. I found myself thinking about him at the most inappropriate times. I was on the verge of ravishing him.
Ugh. Such a problem to have.
If only that was our only obstacle.
The last few days since the unfortunate demise of Eric, Emma’s dad, Chase had spent every waking moment (and some not so waking moments) at my house. I knew that Travis and Chase were having a hard time being under the same roof. My heart felt for Chase, knowing how important and protective he was of his family, but Travis was in a dark place. That, for a half-demon was a place you didn’t want to be, nor be around.
Half-demons took anger to a whole different level—a different planet really.
Glancing over the back of the couch, I laid my chin on my hands and tried not to drool. I was helpless. He looked like the poster boy for a Calvin Klein ad—dark hair, ripped abs, intriguing silver eyes, and an ego fit for a rock star. What he could do for a pair of jeans was sinful and dangerous for my heart.