Page 20 of Angels Don’t Date

He gave me a cocky smirk and then took my hand and pressed a kiss to my skin, adding tongue that left a trail of saliva. Werewolf saliva. Someone burn me. Would I have to kiss that tongue? Shudder.

Smile! Don’t show how close you are to vomiting! My smile teetered, but I held onto it with great will.

“And our next contestant, Monterose Fellicci, and his sugared masterpiece!” Pearly White declared.

While the camera panned, I hastily wiped my hand off on my dress. Now I had to burn the dress.

The fairy came over with exaggerated strides, chest puffed out, wings trailing sparkles as he held out a pile of sugar with nuts and berries sticking out. Wow.

“Allow me,” Richard said, taking a spoonful of the sugar stuff and putting it in his mouth. His reaction was a slight shudder before he gestured the sugar plate to me.

Monterose looked offended. “As if I could ever harm my precious blossom, but for the sake of your safety, we must take all precautions.” He dropped to his knees, holding the plate up, shoulders tilted so he could look at me over one of them, head cocked, eyes half-lidded, like he were about to break into a suicidal love song. But he’d turned down doing another duet with me.

I smiled, took a spoonful of sugar with a raspberry, and put it in my mouth. Ugh. It was almost as bad as the werewolf’s. A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, maybe if the sugar’s baked into something. I swallowed and beamed at the fairy while my stomach roiled.

A baking competition was the worst idea I’d ever had. This was going to kill me.

I managed to say, “Thank you. It’s absolutely remarkable how you captured the pure spirit of nuts and berries.” And nausea.

“And next we have Zander’s beautiful creation.” Pearly White gestured at the elf’s salad, only he’d baked it. Baked salad. I looked at the vile angel, hoping the gorgeous creature would eat a lot of it.

He gave me a slight brow raise while his blue eyes twinkled with amusement he didn’t show on his mouth, and then took a forkful, choked it down and then nodded. “Probably won’t kill you,” he murmured so only I could hear.

“Thank you,” I said, focusing my smile on the shy elf instead of the angel. I took a forkful of partially wilted, partially crunchy greens. Honestly, it wasn’t too bad. Not nearly as vile as the first two.

“So creative!” I said once I could speak. “So unique! With the fresh greens and crunch of baked kale.”

Pearly White cleared his throat. “And next up we have Banus Jones, our resident incubus, and his molten lava chocolate cake!”

It was raw batter until Banus lit it on fire. It didn’t burn long until Banus threw some alcohol on top, and then it whooshed into a good flame before dying out almost immediately.

We all stared at the blackened raw dough while Banus winced. “That’s not quite how it was supposed to go.”

“Glorious presentation,” Richard said arrogantly, then dipped a spoon into the mixture and raised it to his lips. It touched his tongue and then he spat it out, glaring at the incubus. His voice was ice and iron. Death and destruction. “You tried to poison the princess. You’ll die for that.” He drew his sword while his face started turning purple.

Banus raised his hands, stepping away. “I didn’t! I’m a pacifist! I haven’t killed for years, and I’m certainly not breaking my streak with a sweet, if rather silly female.”

That was me? Sweet and silly? I guess it could be worse. He didn’t talk about my virginity. Richard’s face was turning blue. I grabbed the plate of dough and ran an analyzer spell to check the contents. Curing Richard was the priority, however horrible I personally found him.

The dough turned the color of moldy cheese and I knew. “Death knell,” I whispered, then stared in horror at the angel. Lines of purple-black were running down his neck towards his heart. I grabbed his throat, pricking his veins with my claws, bleeding out the poison everywhere I saw the lines of death.

Richard looked at me, pretty blue eyes wide, like he was more shocked to find us in such close proximity than that he’d been poisoned.

His poisoned blood ran over my hands and onto my pretty pink skirt. Another one ruined.

Mitt came out of the shadows and tied Banus’s hands shoving him onto the couch while the incubus looked smoldering, seductive, and confused.

Rafe looked amused, the Fairy looked vaguely horrified, and the elf…

He was looking at me with something in his eyes that made me realize that he’d never quite met my gaze before. I inhaled deeply and smelled the deathknell on him. Left breast pocket. And he’d been right next to Banus.

“Mitt, you have the wrong one,” I whispered, still bleeding the angel all over my skirt.

Zander Spinnera moved like smoke on water, an echo of movement that ended with a poisoned dagger through my chest. Happily, Mitt had a heads up this time and managed to turn the knife aside and push back the elf. Not an elf. Elves didn’t move like that with too many joints and too many claws.

“Pardon me, but I’d hate to singe you,” Richard said, frowning at me before he stepped back and then whorls of heavenly fire swirled under and over his skin, leaving him naked, but wearing fire from the waist down. He’d burned the poison. Right. You could do that if you were an angel with extremely potent blood. The flames went out while he grabbed the assassin, holding him while Mitt struggled to disarm him. We needed to take someone live so we could torture the truth out of them.

I felt nauseous and fell back into my chair, knocking the poisoned dish onto the floor where it shattered. I didn’t want to torture the elf who wasn’t an elf. What had happened to the real Zander Spinnera? Was he dead just so this shape-shifting monster could get close enough to kill me?