“Tell me what happened.”

For someone who just last night had turned from confused yet charming to murderous and angry, he now looked genuinely concerned. After guiding me out of sight of the jerk on the second floor, he took a step back from me and didn’t attempt to touch me again.

Fine with me. Even though my skin tingled from where he’d had his hand on me and I still had a hard time catching my breath being anywhere near him, I didn’t want him to touch me again. No way.

I crossed my arms. “I wanted to know how to get my—my soul back. Before that I wanted to know if it was even true, that it was gone. I don’t feel any different.”

His blue eyes met mine directly. “Yes, you do.”

“What, are you in my head or something? I don’t. I’m hungry, yeah, and I’m always cold, but other than that there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Which is one of the things that is wrong. You should feel different.”

“But I don’t.”

He scanned the club as if assessing it for incoming threats. I was surprised he hadn’t insisted we leave, but I wasn’t going anywhere until I found Carly again. He was the one who should leave. Even though it was a weeknight, the music down here—as opposed to the shielded upstairs lounge—was loud. I had to stay closer to Bishop than I liked in order to hear him. Close enough to smell him—and he smelled just as good tonight as he had last night. Warm, clean, spicy. Maybe it was a special angels-only cologne.

I forced myself to take a step back.

“How are your hungers right now?” he asked.

“Bad.” They’d ramped up to an impossible-to-ignore level in the past few minutes, actually. I eyed a passing tray of chicken wings. “Maybe I should eat something.”

“You think food will satisfy you?”

“I’m not loving the alternative.” My attention was irresistibly drawn to his mouth. “Unless you’re volunteering.”

Immediately my cheeks heated. Where had that come from?

He raked a hand through his short, dark hair. “Sorry, but angels don’t have souls. I wouldn’t be able to help your hunger very much.” He watched me with cautious interest, as if he expected me to burst into flames at any moment.

My face was blazing, and now I had a vivid and unwelcome image of kissing Bishop lodged in my head and couldn’t shake it loose. Angels didn’t have souls. Okay. I added that to my very limited knowledge about him. “I wasn’t sure who I hated more, you or Kraven, but I’ve decided that it’s you.”

He didn’t seem surprised. “And what brought me ahead in the race?”

“The fact that I originally liked you.” That seemed to shut him up. Nice to know that the crazy angel had no comeback for once. Speaking of… “How’s your head?”

“It’s been better. I don’t like feeling this way.”

“But you’re feeling relatively okay now?”

We were tucked into a corner, away from everyone, but he still looked around to check whether anyone was eavesdropping, even though the music was more than loud enough to shield us. “No. The confusion hasn’t gone away. It’s still circling. It’ll come back…it’s only a matter of time.”

“Kraven seemed fine.”

That earned me a sharp look. “Kraven was protected when he entered the city. I was not. That’s why he had to go through the ritual, so his true self could be returned to him.”

I stared at the darkly gorgeous but annoying angel. “Your lips are moving but I’m not understanding a word.”

“Seems to be the theme of the week.”

I glanced around the club for Carly and spotted her chatting with a couple of our friends. I hoped she’d be done soon so we could leave—the sooner the better. Reassured of her safety, I turned back to Bishop. “So the ritual involves you stabbing him with that big, shiny knife of yours.”

“Yes.”

I shuddered at the memory. “Sounds like the stupidest ritual ever created.”

“His temporarily mortal form had to die in order to be reborn with his memories and his true self returned. And, yes, it has to be done with this big, shiny knife of mine.”

I swear, most of the time it felt like he was making fun of me. “So demons can be stabbed in the chest and just bounce back from it like it’s no big deal?”

“Regular knives won’t hurt demons. They’re immortal, just like angels. This dagger, however, is very special.”

Why was I still talking to him, edging closer to him with every moment that passed? Why couldn’t I just turn away and go get Carly?

I shook my head. “I’m officially not a part of this. I’m walking away, going back to my normal life, okay? And that means I don’t want you anywhere near me—tracking, stalking, harassing, whatever.”

He hissed out a sigh. “You can’t be normal again, Samantha. You’re a gray now. It’s been confirmed both to me and to you. Even though you’re different from the others, it doesn’t change what you are. What you need.”

To kiss someone. Badly. Even a soulless, dangerous, and frustrating angel. My cheeks now flushed more from anger than embarrassment. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m here because of grays. That’s why the others are here as well, like…Kraven.” He said the demon’s name with distaste. “Grays can’t leave the city—no supernatural can. I need to find the Source. She’s the one who’s responsible for this new infestation. It’s like a disease that will keep spreading if we don’t stop it. And we’ll use force to stop grays whenever necessary.”