Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
When Seline looked like she’d take a swing at Mateo, Sam surged forward. He grabbed her right wrist, then her left, and held her tightly.
She glared up at him. “You are making one huge mistake here.”
No, he was just doing what he had to do. He’d been misled by an innocent face before. Once upon a time, he’d even thought he was in love, then the human had found out exactly what he was. Even genteel ladies in 1880 could have a very dark side. Helena had drugged him with laudanum, then lit him on fire while he slept. The fire had burned through his skin. The drug had dulled his power so he couldn’t control the flames. He’d just burned, for hours.
When Helena saw that he wasn’t dying, she’d brought in every man she could find from town. The good preacher had called him a devil, and the men had stabbed him. His muscles had been slashed, bones hacked, and he’d still lived.
Torture could come in many forms.
When the drug finally wore off, he’d shown them just how much of a devil he could be.
Helena hadn’t been the first—or the last—human to betray him, but these days, he was far more careful.
“Keep that creep and his knife away from me!” Seline blasted.
Not possible. “He needs your blood.”
Her eyes widened. “Vampire?” A whisper, one he was sure Mateo heard.
Sam shook his head. “Witch.”
She paled even more. Apparently she knew that witches could be far more dangerous than vamps. Good for her.
He glanced over his shoulder but kept his hold on Seline’s delicate wrists. Mateo had placed his scrying mirror on the floor. Its black surface gleamed up at them. The witch chanted softly.
It wasn’t easy for a witch to look into the future. Many considered it forbidden. Good thing Sam and Mateo didn’t fall into that “forbidden” category.
“Give me the knife,” he told Mateo.
Mateo glanced up at him. “You always did like to get your hands dirty.”
Seline kicked Sam in the shin. “I don’t know what you think is about to happen here?—”
Mateo rose and closed the distance between them. “I’m going to take a few drops of your blood. Then I’m going to get a little glimpse of the future.” Said flatly and with only the faintest hint of his Spanish accent. Mateo sounded like he cut women all the time and peered into their futures—because that was exactly what he did.
Just another ordinary night for him.
“One glimpse will show us just where your allegiance lies,” Sam explained because that part was what mattered. The body count was rising. Az and Rogziel would be closing in soon. Not just one threat—two. When the end came, could he trust Seline to have his back? Or would she serve him up to his enemies so that she could save herself?
Been there, done that.
“You expect me to bleed for you?” she demanded, voice sharp.
Yes.
Her eyes darkened with fury. “Then you will damn well bleed for me, too.”
Now he hesitated.
“Uh, boss?” Mateo muttered. “I don’t know about taking your?—”
“You bleed,” she snapped, baring her teeth in a wicked grin. “I bleed. You want to know what my future holds? Well, I want to know what’s gonna happen with you. I want to make sure when the cards are down that you don’t turn on me, too.”
So trust was truly a lie for them both.
He released her and stepped back. “Fine, but ladies first.”
She glared at him. But, after a slight hesitation, she brushed by him and took the knife from Mateo. Mateo touched her lightly on the shoulder, and Sam saw the witch inhale a sharp breath. Mateo’s eyes met his.
Succubus. Mateo mouthed the words and grimaced.
Mateo had been burned, quite literally, by a succubus once upon a time.
“How does this work?” The knife glinted in Seline’s hand.
Mateo cleared his throat. “I just need a few drops of your blood. Stand over the mirror and let them fall onto the glass.”
Seline gave a grim nod. She braced her legs apart and stood just over the mirror. Mateo crouched near the glass and whispered the last of his spell.
“Now,” Mateo ordered.
Seline took a deep breath, then she sliced across the tip of her left index finger. “Just a few drops, right?” The blood dripped onto the mirror.
Mateo’s body jolted. His eyes went blind as he cried out.
Then he started to shake. Hard tremors rattled his frame. A gust of wind swirled through the room, and a deep crack raced across the ceiling.
Seline looked at Sam with wide eyes. “Is this supposed to happen?”
No.
He took the knife. “Mateo!”
The witch fell back. Mateo sucked in great gulps of air. Sam caught sight of the deep claw marks on his arms and back.
Sometimes, you had to pay a price for seeing the future.
With this job, Mateo’s debt to Sam would finally be paid in full.
Sam had killed for the witch. Wiped out four coyote shifters. Now it was Mateo’s turn to face the dark.
Sam’s left hand wrapped around the witch’s shoulder. “What did you see?”
Seline began to sidle toward the door. Sam glanced up and pinned her with his stare. “Going someplace?”
“What?” She shrugged. “Look, whatever your Mateo buddy saw, that couldn’t have been good.”
So she was already preparing to run away? “You aren’t leaving.”
“Oh, no? Well, you need to?—”
“Az comes for her.”
Mateo’s gravelly voice had Seline halting.
“He seeks her now,” Mateo said, voice weaker as he tried to straighten. “He won’t stop until he finds her.”
Well, well. “Why?”
Mateo looked up at him. “Death.”
“He already promised me that sweet deal,” Seline fired, sounding very aggravated. “I told you this.”
“Won’t stop,” Mateo muttered, his eyes squeezing shut as he rocked back and forth. “Nothing will stop him…will come… her. ”
Sam’s gaze locked on Seline. “Interesting.” The word was growled.
Seline swallowed. “Not really. To know that I have a psycho stalker isn’t exactly what I’d term interesting news. Terrifying, maybe. Not interesting.”
“Why her?” Sam demanded and felt a lick of rage spike his blood.
Mateo’s dark eyes opened. “Don’t know why. Only know what will be.”
“Does he get her?” Sam asked, voice flat.
“Yes, I’d like to know that one, too.” Seline brought her hand to her lips and quickly sucked her bleeding index finger.
Lust jolted Sam.
Blood and sex. Usually, the combination only worked for vampires.
Her mouth?—
She lowered her hand. “You said he wouldn’t stop. Does that mean—when you looked in that mirror—did you see him kill me?” Fear had her eyes widening.
Sam knew the witch would give Seline the truth, whether she really wanted to hear it or not.
“I saw you covered in blood,” Mateo told her.
“Maybe it was someone else’s blood.” She sounded flippant, but Sam saw the tremble of her hand. “I can kick ass, too, you know.”
Sam took the knife. “You ready?” She wouldn’t die. If Mateo had actually seen her death, he would have said that. Mateo wasn’t the type to sugarcoat, even for a lady.
Especially for a lady.
She might have been hurt, but in Mateo’s vision, she’d still been breathing.
I’ll make sure she stays alive.
Unlike Seline, Sam didn’t lightly cut his finger. Instead, he sliced his arm, right above the wrist, and the blood splattered onto the mirror.
Mateo took a deep breath. Sam heard him mutter, “I don’t want to see this shit.”
Too late.
Mateo’s body began to spasm. He leaned in close to the glass. Then he screamed.
An instant later, Mateo collapsed on the floor, completely unconscious.
Angels weren’t supposed to lust. They weren’t supposed to covet. They weren’t supposed to want.
They were supposed to guard. To watch. Not interfere.
So many rules.
Tomas had never been particularly good at following the rules.
Guess that’s why I fell. He stretched his shoulders and felt the burn of the scars that would never fade.
Tomas strode out of the cantina. Voices followed him, and laughter drifted in his wake. The night waited, dark and deep, with stars glistening overhead.
He didn’t look to the heavens much these days. What was the point? He knew who looked back, and those guy upstairs sure wouldn’t be granting him any favors anytime soon.
Tomas hurried down the narrow alleyway. He’d crash at his motel and hit the road come morning. Time for another town. More cantinas. More drinks. More women to try and make him forget… her.
The softest rustle sounded behind him. Could have been nothing. Could have been a rat. A piece of garbage rolling in the breeze.
But Tomas stopped at the sound, and an icy shiver of awareness skated over him. Since he’d fallen, he’d learned a lot about survival. Rule number one? Never ignore your instincts. When you felt hunted, you probably were.
He glanced back and saw nothing but the shadows.
Rule number two…there was always more to the night than what you saw.
His nostrils flared as he drank in the scents around him.
Rule number three…What you can’t see, you can probably smell. Everything had a scent. Right then, he smelled brimstone.
Hell.
When you felt hunted, you probably were.
When the witch fell over, Seline knew that was a very, very bad sign.
But Sam grabbed Mateo and hauled him to his feet and held him with a strong grip. With the move, Seline got a look at Mateo’s arms and the back of his shirt. Blood soaked the shirt, and deep claw marks ripped the material—and Mateo’s skin.
He hadn’t been bleeding when he’d come into the room. She’d seen his back when he put down his mirror. He’d been fine then.
She inched away from them.
“Mateo.” Sam barked the witch’s name. He lifted Mateo’s drooping chin. “Mateo, wake up.”
The witch’s lashes began to flutter. Seline didn’t dare move. So much for a few hours’ rest. Her heart was pounding so fast and hard she could barely breathe.
“What happened? Dammit, what did you see?” Sam demanded.
Seline didn’t think she wanted to know. She’d never wanted to know about her future. Why would anyone want to know if bad things were just waiting around the corner?
Mateo’s hands flew up and grabbed Sam’s wrists. “Hell…after you.”
So not what she’d wanted to hear.
“You can’t escape him.” Mateo’s voice grew stronger. “Not once he has your scent. You can’t run. He’ll find you. You can’t kill him…you aren’t strong enough.”
Um, Sam wasn’t strong enough to kill someone? Who could the angel of death not destroy?
He has to be strong enough to defeat Rogziel. Sam was the strongest Fallen she knew. Mateo had to be wrong. He’d better be wrong.
“Days,” Mateo rasped. “Only days left.”
Sam didn’t look even a little bit afraid. The smile that twisted his lips was vicious. “I’ve never been afraid of hell.”
She couldn’t say the same. She was terrified—that was why she’d stayed with Rogziel. He’d told her she would burn because of what she was, unless she earned redemption.
She’d just gotten blood and death.
Sam’s shoulders rolled. “I’m not the running type.”
Again, not so much her. Seline was very tempted to flee right then and there.
“He’ll come at your throat. You will fear,” Mateo promised. “You will.”
Sam shoved the witch away from him. “This he …does he have a name?”
“Too many names.”
“Great,” Seline muttered, dragging her hand through her hair. “We needed the all-seeing Oz, and we got the freaking Riddler.” Why couldn’t Mateo just answer a simple question? “Hey, buddy, over here.” She snapped her fingers and pulled Mateo’s attention her way. She was not going to look at his torn flesh. “Who did you see coming for Sam? His brother? Rogziel?” Some other supernatural that she needed to start worrying about?
“They all come,” Mateo answered, and the strength had vanished from his voice. Now he just looked and sounded beaten. “Time for a reckoning.”
Crap. An attack from all sides. We are so screwed.
Mateo bent and picked up his mirror. “Are we finished?”
Sam’s hands fisted, but he nodded.
Mateo’s fingers tightened around the mirror. “Then the debt is paid.”
Whoa, wait, the witch had peeked into the future because he owed Sam? Seline rocked back on her heels, and, helplessly, her gaze darted to Mateo’s wounds. She could smell his blood and see the pain on his face. She asked, because she had to, “What happened to you? How’d you get those marks?”
“When you look into the world of the spirits…” The mirror disappeared into a faded black bag hooked near Mateo’s hip. “Those spirits see you, too.”
Creepy. “And they—what? Touch you?” More like claw and bite.
“Yes,” he replied flatly.
So he’d willingly let his body be savaged because he owed Sam. Her stare drifted to her silent Fallen. “What kind of debt was that?” Had to be something big. You didn’t agree to use your body as a ghost punching/clawing bag over some piddly deal.
Sam didn’t answer.
Mateo did. “He took the heads of four shifters who wanted to rip all the flesh from my body.” He inclined his head toward Sam. “A few scratches seemed like equal pay to me.” Then he opened the door and walked into the night.
Seline followed and shut the door. Because she didn’t want any more surprises, she pushed the lock into place. It clicked softly.
Seline was silent for a moment. Then two moments, because she really wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Finally, when the silence got too thick, she cleared her throat and asked, “Um, you got any more guests coming tonight that I need to know about?” Was anyone else coming by to spread doom and gloom?
His gaze slowly slid to her. “Not tonight.”
She expelled a hard rush of air. “That’s something.” Okay, first order of business…shower. Then sleep. Then hopefully no dreams that involved nightmares about fire and blood.
Right, good luck with that one . Considering the week she was having, Seline was pretty sure that her real life would definitely chase her in her dreams.
She moved to slide by Sam.
He blocked her path. “Are you afraid?”
Let’s recap . She had a psycho Fallen on her trail. One who apparently wasn’t gonna stop chasing her until she was dead. She’d turned her back on Rogziel, and he wasn’t exactly the forgiving sort. And, bonus, now it looked like Sam was in danger of serious dismemberment. “Damn straight, I am.”
Because she wasn’t sure she’d be surviving the coming week. “It’s not like your witch said he saw us living happily ever after behind some picket fence, Sam.”
A faint furrow appeared between his brows. “You…want to live with me?”
Her lips parted. Her words had come out way wrong. “Look, we need to be afraid. Both of us. Mateo didn’t say that you managed to come away unscathed.”
“But he didn’t say we died, either.”
Um, no. “He also didn’t say we lived.” Had he missed that point?
Sam shrugged.
She snarled and marched around him. “I am too tired for this crap. I’m showering, I’m hitting the bed, and then,” she threw over her shoulder, “when morning comes, we are going to figure how to kick ass, and not get our asses kicked.”
She grabbed the bathroom doorknob.
“You don’t have to worry, I won’t let Az hurt you.”
Sure. Easy to say. But right then, she could still taste ash. She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her without replying. The bathroom was a matchbox, but it was better than nothing. She took one step forward and yanked on the shower. The water thundered out—at least that worked well enough. She stripped, climbed into the shower, and as the water fell onto her in hot, rough bursts, she wondered what the hell would happen next.
She dreamed of fire and blood. Of falling, faster, faster. Plummeting from the sky as her body burned. No, not her body.
Her wings.
Seline tried to scream, but only a whimper escaped from her lips. Her body trembled, and she fell. The ground was coming up fast beneath her, and she knew she’d slam into that unforgiving surface.
Burning and falling.
Her eyelids flew open. “No!”
And she wasn’t falling anymore. She was in the lumpy bed at the motel. The sheets were twisted around her legs, and Sam lay sleeping beside her.
She yanked a hand through her tangled hair. She didn’t usually have nightmares, but after the day she’d had, no wonder she’d been dreaming of death.
Sam groaned beside her. Her eyes darted to him. His features were tense, his jaw clenched, and, hold on, was that pain etched on his face?
He rolled away from her, and with the sunlight streaming through the blinds, she got her first true look at his back.
The thick scars cut right across his shoulder blades. Exactly where wings would have been. No, exactly where they had been.
Seline realized what had been happening. The fire and fall hadn’t been her dream. It hadn’t been his, either, not really.
Because it hadn’t been a dream at all.
Memory. A memory Sam was trapped in right then.
Seline’s hand reached out to trace the thick marks that cut across his left shoulder blade. Her fingertips lightly touched his warm skin.
She felt the sudden stillness that tightened his body.
She leaned closer to him, and her lips feathered over the raised scar.
“Seline…” Her name seemed torn from him.
Her breath blew against his skin, and she pressed a series of gentle kisses against the marks. First one scar, then another.
He was so warm beneath her lips. Leashed power, waiting to explode.
Her mouth lingered on his skin, tasting him. He’d endured so much pain…to have lost his wings…what was worse for an angel? “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know why he’d fallen, but he’d obviously born a terrible price for whatever crime he’d committed.
He’d already been punished. Rogziel should leave him alone.
In an instant, Sam rolled toward her. His eyes were solid black. “I don’t need your pity.” And in that deep rumble she heard a mix of anger and…lust?
He kissed her, crushing his lips to hers, and, oh, yes, that was definitely lust she tasted on his tongue. This kiss was different from all the ones that had passed before. Wilder, hotter.
Too late, she remembered one more whisper about angels. The wings are the most sensitive part of their bodies.
Even the scars? Were they still so very sensitive?
Sam lifted her over him. One yank, and he tore her panties away. Her knees dug into the mattress on either side of his body even as the broad head of his fully aroused cock pushed at her entrance.
His gaze blazed at her.
Staring right into his eyes, feeling her own arousal heat her blood, Seline pushed down with her hips and took him in as deep as she could.
Not deep enough. His hands clamped on her hips, and he began to move her, harder, faster. Bedsprings broke beneath them. The bed thudded against the wall.
And still he thrust harder.
Power filled the air. That sweet, wild rush of power that she only got from him. Like nothing else. Nothing.
She wanted to take and take. To absorb every bit of his sensual energy and lose herself completely with him.
She’d held on to the edge of her control before. In the past, she’d always had to hold back with her lovers. If she let go of that control, bad things could happen.
“Seline.” This time, her name was a snap. “With me. ”
He heaved up, and Seline found herself on her back in the tangled covers. His mouth took hers, his tongue thrusting against hers. She wrapped her hands around his shoulders and held on tight, drinking in that wonderful energy. Taking, taking as she hadn’t dared before.
Her fingers slid down his back and stroked over those scars.
He thrust faster. Even harder. Her hips arched against him. Her sex was wet and so sensitive now that he slid in deep and easy as he thrust into her. Then his fingers were there, pushing between their bodies and rubbing her clit with rough possession.
Her climax slammed through her. Hot, consuming, and so intense that the last thread of her control snapped.
She took all of his sensual strength. Pulled it right inside herself. The pleasure blasted her, again and again, and she could only whisper his name.
As her sex rippled around his cock, he came. She felt his release. Actually felt the eruption of pleasure sweep through his body.
The shove of psychic power that pulsed from him was so intense that the room dimmed for a moment. She clung to him, holding on, even as she tried to grab hold of her control. No, no, can’t take too much. Can’t.
She’d taken too once much before and nearly killed her lover.
Death.
Not Sam! The hands that she’d had holding him so tightly suddenly shoved him back.
But apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to be shoved.
Sam’s body was like freaking granite. “Look at me, Seline.”
She’d squeezed her eyes shut a second before, afraid of what she’d see. Now, breath choking out, Seline slowly lifted her lashes.
Sam stared down at her. His hands held her in an unbreakable grip. Seline shook her head and said, “I’m sorry.” The apology came because for just an instant, she remembered another time.
Another man.
She hadn’t understood her power back then. Rogziel hadn’t told her how quickly lust would build inside her and how she’d want to take .
No, Rogziel hadn’t warned her, not until after he’d found her lover’s weak body.
Never lose control. You could have killed him. R ogziel’s voice blasted from the past. Take only a little. You have to survive on tastes. Small sips of pleasure. That’s all. No more. Nothing more.
“You’re apologizing again? For what?” Sam asked. He was still inside her body, and hardening again.
But was his cock swelling because he truly wanted her? Or because she’d let too much of her power out and he had no control now?
“You need to let me go,” she told him, and hated that her voice came out so husky. He couldn’t afford to be weak with all the dangers closing in. How could she have taken such a foolish risk? He had to be at full power. She couldn’t put him at a disadvantage.
“And you need to tell me why you’re afraid to look me in the eye.”
Couldn’t he feel why? She forced her stare to meet his. “Because I took too much from you.” Her energy level was spiking so high she felt like she could fly right through the ceiling. Her fingers slid over his scars once more, almost helplessly.
He shuddered beneath her touch. “You gave.”
She blinked.
“When you came…” His head bent toward hers and his lips brushed across hers. “Sweetheart, you hit me with one powerful blast of energy. You didn’t take.”
Yes, she had. Her blood was pumping, and the energy all but crackled in the air.
“You gave me a surge of pure power, and it’s the damnedest thing I’ve ever felt before.”
She blinked eyes that had gone blurry. “That’s not possible. Rogziel—he said that I couldn’t ever transfer power. That if I wasn’t careful, I’d take too much from my lovers. All I can do is take, and if I take too much…” Her voice dropped. “I kill.”
Sam pushed his aroused cock deep into her eager sex. “Angels are good at twisting the truth.”
She lost her breath.
“I’m not weak.” His gaze almost seemed to burn her. “I won’t ever be weak, no matter how much you take.”
He wasn’t human. Not a sixteen-year-old boy who had fumbled with her in the dark and gotten a near-death experience for his trouble.
“You can’t drain me, but, sweetheart, you’re not even trying to. You’re…”
He withdrew. Thrust deep. Her legs wrapped around his hips as she pushed back against him.
“Giving to me,” he gritted out, “making me stronger.”
He was making her stronger. With every touch. Every kiss.
His lips met hers in a hot, drugging kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth.
Tension filled her body once more as they moved together. The thrusts weren’t as wild this time. Slow and steady, so deep. Her sex, sensitive from her climax, closed eagerly around his cock.
“Let go,” he urged her. “Take. Give. Do whatever the fuck you want with me. You won’t hurt me.”
A lover who could handle her. She swallowed and held him tighter.
And took.
When the climax hit them both, the pleasure rushed through her body and flooded her being. She sent that pleasure out, working on instinct, and gave it right back to him.
The release she felt was so powerful that it stole her breath. Her heart nearly burst from her chest, and she held on to Sam as tightly as she could even as the ripples of climax rocked between them.
When she could suck in a full breath, she tasted power and pleasure.
And knew—as she’d suspected from the beginning—that she’d found an addiction.
Sam.
This time, he held her. He didn’t speak. Just wrapped his arms around her. And she heard the strong thunder of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
His heart pounded so quickly. A powerful beat. Not like before, with the boy she’d hurt so long ago.
“I’m not human.” Sam’s voice vibrated beneath her. She didn’t look at him, but her hand pressed harder against his body. “You know that means the usual rules don’t apply to me.”
She had to swallow again because her throat felt parched. “Meaning if you were human, I’d hurt you.” Because that was what she did. At sixteen it had been an accident, but as she’d gotten older, Rogziel had deliberately sent her out to lure others.
She hadn’t killed by draining them, but she knew that had been a risk.
“Who was he?” Sam’s fingers slid down her back, and goose bumps rose at his touch. For someone so dangerous, he could also be incredibly gentle at times.
“He was the first boy I kissed.” It was easier to tell the story without looking into Sam’s eyes. “And also the first boy I almost killed.” The kisses had turned into touches. Need had built within her. So hungry and new. She hadn’t even realized that something was wrong with the feelings she’d experienced, not until Patrick had collapsed.
“You’re sixteen, you’re making out, and then your boyfriend almost stops breathing.” Like that wouldn’t scar a girl. It had sure messed her up. “Rogziel told me how close I came to killing Patrick. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I didn’t even know then that I could kill someone that way.”
Killing with a kiss. At sixteen, she’d learned just what kind of a monster she was.
Sam was silent. Just…waiting. So Seline kept talking to fill that void. She’d never liked silence. It made the ghosts that surrounded her seem too loud. “At first, Rogziel was furious. I went to him for help.” A sad laugh slipped from her lips. “I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”
His hand tangled in her hair. “You do now.”
Sam’s fierce vow brought her eyes to him. She wanted to believe him, wanted to so badly, especially with his body warming hers, but what would happen when the danger was gone? She wouldn’t have him at her side anymore.
No, then she’d have her freedom.
“Tell me the rest,” he growled.
She’d never told anyone before, but it just seemed right to tell him. “A few years later, Rogziel realized just how very useful I could be. When he wanted to get close to one of his marks, he let me do the dirty work for him.” She hadn’t fucked the men. Did that matter? She’d seduced, she’d charmed, but she’d never actually had sex with the marks that were her assignments. She’d never crossed that line.
Until Sam.
“Was the story about Moorecroft real?” No emotion hinted in his voice, and his hand still tangled in her hair.
She nodded and felt the tug against his wrist. “All of it. I killed his friend.” No choice. The bastard had almost broken her jaw. If she’d been a human, he would’ve shattered it. “When he has a chance, Moorecroft truly will be coming after me.”
“I don’t think so,” Sam murmured, and slowly released her hair.
She blinked and felt an ache in her chest. He doesn’t believe me. The first time she’d ever tried to bare her soul, and Sam thought she was playing him. “It’s true, I swear! Philip Drew was an asshole who used his fists on women every chance he got. When I wouldn’t have sex with him, he started hitting me.” And for a mortal, he’d been incredibly strong. Once again, her backup—Alex—hadn’t come to her aid. “Philip had me on the ground. He kept hitting my face and kicking me with his steel-toed boots. The bastard broke two of my ribs.” She’d been coughing up blood.
“Then it’s a good fucking thing he’s dead.” A lethal softness had entered Sam’s voice. “He’s dead, and now his buddy Moorecroft has joined him in the grave.”
It took a moment for his words to register. “What? Moorecroft is dead? How?—”
“Someone stabbed him with a shiv in his cell block.” His gaze glinted. “I guess he pissed off the wrong demon.”
Or the wrong fallen angel—one who had connections to the demons in Moorecroft’s prison block. She was quickly realizing that the so-called heavenly beings could be more dangerous than any Other on earth.
“So don’t worry about Moorecroft coming after you. He won’t be hurting you, or any other woman, ever again.”
Seline couldn’t look away from him. There was so much darkness around him. Tonight, she felt that darkness more than ever before. “Do you ever want to go back?” Probably not what she should have asked, but the question just slipped out. “Do you want to trade what you’ve become and go back to what you were?”
“I’ve delivered death my entire life. Moorecroft was just another in a chain for me.”
But that just sounded sad and wrong. “Don’t you want more than death?” Didn’t everyone? She sure did.
His fingers slid down the curve of her shoulder. “We can’t always have what we want.”
“Sometimes, we can.”
His hand tightened on her. “I tried for the mortal bit. Tried love, once upon a time.”
Now why was she feeling a hard spike of jealousy? Because I want him. “What happened?”
“When she found out what I truly was, she tried to kill me.”
“I’m sorry.” The words seemed trite. And she sure seemed to be saying them a lot. Her lips pressed together.
“When she couldn’t kill me, Helena brought in the rest of the town. They spent hours stabbing, slicing, and burning me. ”
Yes, she could see where he might be turned off the whole love thing.
“She’d loved me one day, and the next, she wanted to send me to hell.” No expression flickered on his face.
“What did you do when you got free?”
A faint line appeared between his brows. “Do you mean, did I kill her?”
She waited.
“What do you think?” His head came close to hers. “You think I killed the woman I thought of loving? She sure tried hard enough to kill me.”
Seline shook her head. “You didn’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
She raised her hand, and her fingertips traced over his lips. “Because there is more to you than death.”
His lips parted, and her finger slipped into his mouth. He sucked her fingertip, and his tongue rasped over her skin.
Seline felt the dark desire begin to rise within her again. With him, it was so easy to want.
One more lick, and he pulled away from her. “Don’t be so sure of me. I’m very good at the business of death.” His gaze had heated with a fury she hadn’t seen before. “Aren’t you even going to ask…why did I fall?”
“No.” She didn’t want to know.
Or maybe she was afraid to find out.
Because she’d already started to care for Sam. Despite the darkness that cloaked him and the danger that he wore like a shroud, he’d slipped under her guard. When they were together, she was more open with him than she ever had been with anyone else.
He offered her freedom. He offered her hope.
He made her want more.
Love. Life. Wasn’t that what normal people had?
“Scared, Seline?”
Her lashes lowered. “How long ago did you fall?”
“Centuries.”
Exactly what she’d thought. “And are you the same man now?”
Silence. She glanced up and read the surprise on his face. “Are you?” she pressed.
“No.”
Seline nodded. “I didn’t think so. We’ve all done things we regret. The past can’t change. Only the present matters.” And you can’t think about the future. Don’t think about it—and keep that witch away from me!
It was hard enough to keep going some days without knowing that a fiery future waited.
She pulled Sam against her on the bed. Seline took his arm and wrapped it around her body. He fit her well. Better than any other man ever had. Within his arms, she felt safe. Finally.
Her breath eased in and out slowly, and the minutes ticked by. Sleep tugged at her, and she began to slip into dreams.
Then she heard his whisper in her ear.
“I don’t regret why I fell. If I had to do it again, I’d still kill them all.”
Her eyes squeezed shut even harder. “Did they—were they innocents?”
“No, but the women and children they slaughtered were. Trust me, those bastards deserved exactly what they got.”
And, wrapped in his embrace, she wondered just what she deserved.
Tomas locked the door of his motel room. Sweat trickled down his back. He was being hunted.
He peeked out of the sagging blinds. The early rays of sunlight streaked across the sky, making the heavens look blood-red.
Heaven wasn’t supposed to bleed. Bad things are coming. He understood the omen.
He grabbed the phone off the bedside table. He knew when he was in over his head.
Fucking now.
One ring. Two. There was only one guy who could help him. Provided, of course, that the bastard wasn’t just in the mood to stand back and watch him die. After their last encounter—one that had ended in fists and fire—there was really no telling.
But then Sammael answered his phone.
“Sam! I’m in trouble!” Not that Sam usually cared about that, not for anyone, but…
I’ll make a deal with him.
“Tomas?” There was a murmur in the background. Sounded like a woman’s voice. It figured the Fallen would be fucking.
I’d be screwing, too, if I didn’t have someone aiming for my head.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.” He glanced out of the blinds again. He didn’t see anyone, yet. But he probably wouldn’t see them coming. Good hunters never showed themselves until they were ready to make the kill. “I’ve got a problem, and I don’t really care how much I have to pay, but I need some help.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I-I’m being hunted.”
There’d been some coyote shifters who’d gone after Fallen before, or, more specifically, after their angel blood. Because it was so pure, their blood was very, very powerful.
But this was different. He’d caught the scent, and he knew. “It’s one of our own,” he snapped at Sam. “One of our own is gunning for me.”
“Where are you?” Sam didn’t sound surprised or worried. Nothing new there. Emotions were supposed to hit angels when they fell to earth, but Tomas hadn’t noticed that Sam ever felt much of anything—other than boredom.
“Anahuac.” He’d been sinning his way through most of Mexico. What was the point of falling if you couldn’t enjoy some sin? “At a rundown dump of a motel three miles from the main cantina. Are you in New Orleans?”
“I’m in Laredo. I can be there to meet you in a few hours.”
Something thudded into his door. Something very hard and very big.
His hand clenched around the phone. “I don’t think I’ve got that long.”
The door began to splitter apart.
I don’t have any time at all. The devil was already at his door.
The line went dead. Sam stared down at his phone. He’d known Tomas was in Mexico, but the Fallen didn’t exactly move with the times. Having a cell phone would have been too much to ask of Tomas. Maybe next time you’ll buy a phone so I can warn you when a psychotic bastard is picking us off.
If there was a next time.
He glanced at Seline. “We’ve got to go.”
Seline’s delicate face showed her worry. “Another Fallen?”
Sam nodded. “And Tomas knows that he’s being hunted.” Which meant they didn’t have much time. Judging by the way that call had ended— not much time at all.
They dressed and ran for the door. Sam spared only one glance for the heavens above him. Blood-red.
Sailors thought that sign mistakenly meant a storm was coming.
It really meant an angel was dying. You could always see the blood in the sky before it hit the ground.
He jumped on the motorcycle. Seline wrapped her arms around him.
I’m coming, Tomas.
But he was afraid he wouldn’t be fast enough.