Angel Betrayed

by Cynthia Eden

  “Can you really trust him?” Azrael murmured, like the devil whispering in her ear. “Don’t you want to leave him? Now’s your chance, succubus, run. I’ll hold him back. Get your freedom.”

  Sam flinched.

  Very, very slowly, Seline turned her head to meet Az’s stare. “I trust him with my life. And you can just go and fuck off.”

  The ceiling trembled above them. Cracks raced across the sagging tiles.

  “You should have run when you had the chance,” Az told her with what looked to be a sad shake of his head. “Now we’ll all—”

  The ceiling caved in—no, fell in because Rogziel had just blasted his way through as he hurtled toward them.

  “Hell’s waiting,” Rogziel called out, raising his bloody hands, and lightning flew across the room. One bolt slammed into Azrael’s chest. Another hit Sam’s back. The scent of burned flesh filled Seline’s nostrils.

  Burned flesh . . . and brimstone.

  The hound’s teeth were at his throat. Tomas shoved up, but he choked on his own blood. The witch was thrusting a knife into the beast’s side, but the hound wasn’t letting up.

  They’d run. Used as many spells as they could, but every time they appeared, the hellhound was right on their asses.

  Can’t outrun a hound. Not once the beast gets your scent. The hound would only stop by a master’s command—or when it brought down its prey.

  Tomas was down. No matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t get up.

  The thudding of Tomas’s heartbeat began to slow. The sunlight dimmed. This was it.

  He’d Fallen and now he’d die.

  He could still hear Sierra’s screams. She’d never know—

  The hound’s breath blew over his face, but then, the hound stiffened. The beast lifted its big, ugly head and howled.

  The mournful wail shook Tomas’s bones.

  The hound licked his throat, drinking away the blood that poured from Tomas’s gaping wounds. Tomas’s hands clawed at the hound’s eyes.

  The hellhound leapt back. Howled again, then turned and raced toward the sun.

  Tomas couldn’t feel his legs anymore. Or his hands. And that thudding in his ears, so faint . . .

  “Oh, fuck.” Mateo stood over him. “Hold on, angel. You hear me? Your woman is out there. You have to help her. You can’t go any damn place yet.”

  Sierra.

  His lashes were trying to close.

  Mateo chanted. Poured something in his wounds that burned and made him howl like the beast had.

  Sierra. “Why . . .” The word came from his torn throat as a whisper. “Leave . . . ?” He couldn’t manage anymore. He wasn’t even sure that Mateo would understand his garbled speech.

  “You’re still living . . .” he thought the witch muttered barely, “so only its master’s command would pull it back.” A pause and Tomas understood, even before Mateo said, “The hellhound has new prey.”

  Sam rose to his feet, never taking his gaze off Rogziel. “I figured you’d be showing up soon.”

  Rogziel’s face flushed dark red and his eyes shone black. “And I knew Tomas would bring you to me.”

  “That why you had your pit bull waiting to rip him apart? Death was the guy’s finder’s fee?”

  Sam slipped out the small vial Mateo had tossed to him and cradled it in the palm of his hand.

  “Don’t worry . . .” Rogziel’s eyes closed for a moment as he inhaled a deep breath. “My pit bull is coming home. The hound will rip you apart, too.”

  “Maybe next time.” Sam smiled. Azrael stood in the corner, watching, waiting. Same routine. Never acting. Always just watching. “This time, I think I’ll rip you apart.” He threw the vial at Rogziel’s feet. The glass shattered, and a thin layer of white smoke rose in the air. High, higher, wrapping around Rogziel.

  “No!” the punishment angel screamed as he tried to lunge forward, but there was no place for him to go. He was trapped, in the cage that he’d first created. Rogziel’s fists slammed into a wall he couldn’t see, but it was one that Sam knew he could damn well feel. Sam smiled and pulled out his weapon. “Gotcha.” Time to carve up an—

  “No.” Rogziel’s hands dropped. His lips twisted in a grin. “I’ve got you.”

  “Sam . . .” Seline’s worried voice. “I hear—”

  Growls. Snarls. The scratch of claws racing over the floor. The hellhound was coming back.

  Sam spun around just as the hound lunged into the room. The beast jumped right at him, teeth bared for that deadly bite.

  But Az drove his body into the hound’s. “Kill . . . him!” Az shouted as he fought to hold the beast. Teeth snapped at him. Claws ripped into his body. Blood gushed. “Kill . . . Rogziel!”

  The scent of flowers filled the room. Flowers . . . angels. More angels were coming. No, not coming, one was already there. Sam looked to the left and saw Jeremian, his pale face stoic. He knew Jeremian. He’d worked with the Death Angel for centuries.

  Jeremian’s gaze was on Seline.

  “No!” Sam snarled. “You’re not taking her!” He stared at that thin line of white powder on the floor. Once he crossed that line, he wouldn’t be able to get out, not unless Mateo freed him. He’d be bound in there with Rogziel. Neither could get loose.

  If he wanted to kill the punishment angel, there was only one way . . .

  Sam leapt over the line. He lifted the claw and slashed the weapon down. Rogziel’s blood splattered on him as Rogziel fought back. Twisting, turning, shoving out blasts of power that just exploded in the small space.

  Growls and screams surrounded them. The hellhound was fighting to break free of Az’s hold. The beast’s teeth were snapping, claws carving up the floor as it tried to get to Sam. Seline had clamped her arms around the beast as she tried to help Az hold back the hound.

  Sam sliced the dragon shifter’s claw across Rogziel’s throat. Blood rained down from the wound. “You’re not getting out alive,” he promised.

  “Seline,” Rogziel whispered, and the bastard was smiling.

  “You’ll never touch her!” He drove the huge claw into Rogziel’s heart and felt the gush of blood cover his fingers. “And you’re not heading back to heaven.”

  A long drop of blood slid down from the corner of Rogziel’s mouth. “Neither . . .” He choked out, “is she.”

  Sam blinked.

  Rogziel’s body sagged. “Didn’t . . . know? Some angels . . . no wings . . . ”

  Gritting his teeth, Sam twisted the claw. Rogziel stopped talking. A desperate gurgle rose in his throat. Sam yanked back the claw.

  Rogziel fell to the ground. His blood soaked his wings. His eyes were open, staring straight up, but fear had frozen his face.

  The silence hit him then. Thick. Total. He spun around and felt like he’d just had his heart carved out.

  The hound wasn’t at Azrael’s throat anymore. Az lay on the ground, not moving, his body torn and battered.

  The beast crouched over Seline, and its teeth were at her throat. And behind them, with his hand outstretched, Jeremian waited.

  “No!” Sam lunged forward but slammed into the invisible wall that had been created by the holding spell. “Fuck, no!” He blasted the wall. He let fire rip from his hands. He shoved every inch of his power—

  “Seline!”

  Her head was turned toward him. Her eyes met his. The hound hadn’t ripped into her throat, not yet. Maybe the beast wouldn’t. Maybe it would somehow recognize her, just as the other had.

  Fucking bastard Rogziel. Sam kicked the angel’s limp body. He’d said “Seline,” at the end—because he was ordering his hound to kill her. Changing prey. Damn him. “Get away from her!” He yelled at the hellhound. “Come for me, hound! Come for me!”

  But the beast wasn’t moving. Jeremian wasn’t touching Seline. He couldn’t. His touch wouldn’t stop this torment for her, Sam knew that. The Death Angel’s touch wouldn’t work on her because of the angel blood that flowed through her body. Jeremian�
�s job was just to wait . . . to watch the hound kill her.

  Just as Sam was watching. “No!” Sam screamed. “Come for fucking me!”

  Jeremian looked at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. Seline wouldn’t be able to hear him, not yet. The closer she came to death, the more aware of the angel she’d become.

  Seline—dying?

  No, no, not fucking possible. He’d just found her. He’d promised her freedom.

  A tear slid down Seline’s cheek. Those teeth were sinking into her throat, and she was pushing against the beast and still looking at Sam . . .

  “Love . . . you . . . Her lips whispered the words as she stared at him.

  Sam shook his head. No, no, she couldn’t love him. He was death. He killed. He destroyed.

  Pain twisted her face.

  He could only watch. “Seline!” The skin of his hands split open as he battered the walls that held him.

  Jeremian’s fingers were inches away from her. “You don’t want her to keep suffering . . .” the angel said. “It’s time for her to be at peace.”

  At peace? Slaughtered by the hound? “I’ll kill you!” Sam roared—the vow was for the angel who just watched and for the beast who was hurting Seline.

  Jeremian shook his head. “Doubtful. Though you may try.”

  A red haze filled Sam’s vision. He shoved his hands flat against the barrier, pushing with every ounce of his strength. Pushing, pushing, spending his energy, desperate—

  Seline’s eyes widened. The beast’s teeth tore deeper into her throat. Sam saw her lips try to move. Another tear leaked from her eye, and her mouth formed his name, “Sam.”

  Then a giant ball of fire exploded, and Seline, Seline—

  Everything burned.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Sam, you’d better fucking be alive in there!”

  Sam heard the voice. Hollow. Distant. He lifted his eyelids, aware that every part of his body hurt.

  “I’m gonna get you out of there, hombre, just hold on.”

  There was nothing to hold on to.

  “Damn. What did you do to yourself?”

  Sam managed to stare stared down at his chest. The claw was still embedded in his flesh. “Wanted . . . to get to her . . .” If he’d been close to dying, if he’d shed enough blood, then he’d thought that maybe the hound would come for him.

  Come for me instead. He’d screamed those words as the fire erupted, and he drove the claw into his own chest. But those weren’t the rules. Sam had tried to break them, but—not the rules.

  The hellhound had taken its real prey.

  Mateo chanted and threw ash in the air and Sam fell out of his prison.

  He didn’t look back at Rogziel’s body. No fucking point. He rushed across the room, sliding in the blood that continued to pour from his body and soak the floor.

  It should have been me.

  “Seline!” The flames burned low now, flickering red and gold near the edges of the room.

  Az lay in the corner, his skin scorched, but he was still breathing.

  Seline was just . . . gone.

  Nothing left. No blood—just nothing.

  “Where’s the succubus?” Mateo asked. Then his eyes narrowed. “That Fallen looks like shit.”

  Where are you, Seline?

  If she’d died, where had she gone? Not to the fire, not her. She couldn’t be in the fire. He wouldn’t let her be. He shot to his feet and grabbed Mateo. “Our deal.” Talking was hard. Too much rage and fear and pain poured through his veins, hotter than the fire.

  Seline.

  Mateo stared at him with wide eyes. “What are you—”

  “I got my wish. We had a deal. Now send me to hell.”

  Mateo blinked at him. “No, you don’t want to—”

  “I’m not leaving Seline there.” Rogziel. Fucking bastard, having his vengeance. “He sicced his hound on her. She was the prey. Now she’s gone. And I’m not leaving her there to burn.”

  Mateo tried to break free of his grip. Sam didn’t let him. His full power was out now, blazing. The only thing he’d ever cared about was gone.

  No, I won’t let her go.

  “You can’t bring the dead back,” Mateo said, voice rumbling. “I’m sorry, but you can’t—”

  “Watch me.” Hell couldn’t have her.

  “You don’t know what you’re messing with!”

  Love . . . you . . .

  He was one of the oldest angels. The strongest. He’d walked heaven and hell long before men knew to fear the monsters in the dark. “She’s not dying.”

  She’s already dead, a sly voice whispered in his mind.

  “You’d burn for her?” Mateo asked, shaking his head. “Because that’s what will happen. You’ll get in, you’ll burn, and you’ll stay there forever. You don’t have wings anymore. No one will pull your ass out.”

  He was the only one who could get Seline out. He could trade for her, sacrifice. He’d gotten out once, he could do it again.

  “Send me to hell.” They had a fucking deal.

  “It’s not that easy,” Mateo snapped, trying to jump away from the flames that ate at his feet. “I have to prepare, find the right spell—”

  “Find it.” He was shattering apart on the inside. Only fury kept him in one piece.

  “Even if you get there, how do you think you’ll get her out? She can’t get out! Other than power-freaking-houses like you, only punishment angels can walk out of that prison.”

  Angel . . . no wings.

  He shoved Mateo away and raced out of the room. He searched every inch of that place for Seline, but she wasn’t there. He couldn’t smell her, couldn’t feel her—nothing.

  It wasn’t just like she’d died. It was more. Like she’d just . . . ceased to be entirely.

  Angel . . . no wings.

  “Delia!” The hallway shook with his bellow. “Delia, get down here, now!” He was desperate, so desperate he’d turn to an angel for help.

  He burst outside of the old house. The dark night stared back at him. No stars glittered. Just a pitch-black sky.

  “Delia!”

  The angel didn’t answer him. He raged, but she didn’t appear.

  Mateo came out with Az’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. “We need to get out of here.”

  No angel. No heaven for him. Hell . . . hell was now. Seline, gone, burning.

  He stared at Az. His brother had actually tried to help him. That should matter for something.

  But he couldn’t feel anything right then. Just an icy numbness that suffocated him.

  “I . . . saw her die, in my vision.” Mateo’s voice was halting. “I told you. She was covered in blood.”

  She had been.

  “You knew the way this would end.” But there was sympathy in Mateo’s voice. Sadness.

  Sam flinched. “I thought I could protect her.” His arrogance. His shame. He’d actually thought he could change the future.

  “No . . . what will be, that’s what always comes.” Mateo dropped Az onto the ground. “She was marked for Death. I knew it from the first moment I took her blood. She didn’t belong in this world.”

  Without her, he didn’t, either.

  Sam grabbed Az. Hefted him over his shoulder. His brother, his burden. Then he began to walk into the night. One foot in front of the other.

  He kept walking, walking, and he knew that he was already dead.

  Seline opened her eyes to a world of white. Since the last thing she remembered was a fire so hot it scorched her breath, she hadn’t quite expected . . . this.

  “I was wondering when you’d wake up.” The woman’s voice was familiar.

  Seline glanced to the left. Delia smiled at her. “Hello there.”

  Seline jumped up. She’d been placed in some kind of bed. Some kind of really fancy white bed. The whole place was fancy. With big, white columns, and wow, was that a golden floor? She paced quickly away from the bed, aware that her heart was racing far to
o fast. “Where am I?” The first question on her lips, but . . . this place . . . a twist in her gut told her just where she was.

  Hair fluttered over Seline’s shoulder. She shoved it back. But . . . it wasn’t hair. Something softer. Smoother.

  Delia inclined her head. “Welcome home.”

  Seline threw her hand back over her shoulder. She touched—wings. Actual, real, soft-as-down wings. “No.” This can’t be happening.

  “I said you were special.” Now Delia walked around her and studied Seline with an appraising eye. “It doesn’t usually happen this way. Angels are born here, not on earth, and your, ah, your blood line wasn’t exactly pure.”

  Had the woman just called her a mutt? Seline glared at her. “Where’s Sam?”

  “Sammael is where he should be.”

  Yeah, that was a big, giant answer of nothing.

  “Do not worry.” Delia’s voice was so carefully modulated. No emotion slipped in at all. “It will take some time to adjust, but soon you won’t miss your old life at all.” A faint shrug of her shoulders sent her wings sliding into the air. “It’s possible you won’t even remember it.”

  There were sure parts she’d like to forget. Getting her throat ripped out by the hound. Rogziel. The bitter years she’d spent with him. But there were other parts . . .

  Riding on a motorcycle with Sam, the wind blowing back her hair as she held him tight.

  Listening to the low rumble of his voice . . . feeling his heartbeat beneath her ear as they lay in bed together.

  No, no, there were parts she did not want to forget. Sam. “I didn’t ask for this.” The words shook.

  Delia blinked. “No, this is your reward.”

  Her gaze flew around the room. There had to be a way out.

  “Your mother loved a demon. She turned her back on her duty for him. That was a crime.” Delia’s footsteps tapped lightly over the floor. “But not one she had to die for. Fall, yes, but not die.”

  Seline stared at her. “My father . . . he didn’t kill her, did he?” A lifetime of hate had hardened her heart. Yet Sam had made her doubt. “It was Rogziel.” Her voice was more certain than she felt.