Mortal Obligation by Nichole Chase

dark, but not sinister, despite his obvious enjoyment of her irritability.
    “What are you?” She leaned forward, looking at him more closely.
    “What do you think I am?”
    She groaned. “You've got to be kidding me. How am I supposed to know that? You could be a unicorn for all I know! Anything is possible after last night. Why don't you just go away so I can get dressed?”
    He stood up, but instead of leaving he came and sat on the edge of her bed. “Who is being rude now? And if I may point out, you already know there is more to me than would appear. So I think you might be able to figure it out.”
    She shifted so he wasn't touching her and tried to not think about the fact that she was barely dressed with a strange guy sitting on her bed. For whatever reason, he didn’t really feel like a stranger but, just the same, she could feel herself blushing when he moved a little closer.
    “Look at me, Ree. I won't bite.” His tone had softened, despite the teasing. Without understanding why, she looked up and met his eyes. There was definitely something inhuman. The blue was too deep and dark. Thick eyelashes added to the perfect face, but she had been right. There was an intensity hidden in the depths of his eyes, as if something painful haunted him. Unknowingly, she moved closer to him, caught in the mystery. His complexion was perfect; no blemishes and a warm, golden skin tone spoke of time in the sun. Everything about him seemed perfect – almost too perfect. Her eyes fell on his lips, and her breath caught. Shaking her head she looked back up at him and leaned away. Something in his eyes almost looked disappointed when she moved.
    “What am I, Ree?” His voice was almost a whisper.
    “How do you know my name?”
    “What am I? Don't look with your eyes. Look with your gifts. Tell me what I am.” Something in his tone demanded that she do as she was told, as if he was daring her. She started to roll her eyes again. Who the hell did he think he was? But before she could tell him to get out, something in her gut tugged her attention back to him. She looked again, but this time paid attention to what she was feeling, too. He was old. Much older than he appeared, it was like a weight in her mind. And there was a real darkness to him. Something powerful was in that darkness, but she also felt sadness and despair. There was a human longing and pain that held his soul captive. Maybe that was why she didn't freak out when she realized what he was. Maybe it was that human part of him trapped under all of the pain that made her not panic.
    She swallowed, her throat dry. “Dark One. You're a Dark One.”
    His eyes were thoughtful as he watched her. “I was one of the first ones made on Earth.”
    “But you're not evil. Not like the ones last night. I don't think you mean me any harm. And you're here during the day time.”
    “Hm. I wouldn't say I'm not evil, but, if you want, we could stick with wicked.” His grin turned lascivious. She blushed again, reminded that he was in her bedroom and she didn't know why.
    “But no, I mean you no harm. In fact, I very much intend to keep you safe. And as for being here during the day time? I was given a reprieve. The gods granted me clemency as long as I help with their agendas.”
    “Why would you do that?”
    “Let’s just say that I was human once and never really forgot what it was like to be one.” Again that sadness filled his eyes. She leaned closer again, wanting to take away some of that pain. He was a Dark One, but he wasn't evil. And it was hard to watch anyone deal with that kind of agony. Just as she reached out to touch his hand her bedroom door swung open, slamming into the wall.
    She jerked back and looked up to see Paden standing there. He was livid as he strode across the room, stopping only a few feet away from them, almost like he was worried he might trip Roland into doing something drastic. His chest heaved under his t-shirt as he breathed