Angel of Darkness

by Cynthia Eden

  Sam wasn’t the only angel like that. When you had so much power, the darkness could easily get into your blood.

  Keenan understood that pull so much better now.

  He turned away from Sam.

  “Does she know that you were the angel sent to take her soul?”

  Keenan kept walking. He’d get on the bike and—

  “No answer. That means you can’t answer because you can’t tell a lie.”

  And Sam was in front of him. Just like that, as fast as a blink. “You didn’t have to fall,” Sam said, “in order to get a piece of ass.”

  Keenan went for his throat.

  But he touched nothing. Sam had already moved. Already shot five feet away.

  “Got to be faster than that,” Sam taunted.

  Keenan launched forward.

  Sam’s fist slammed into his chest, a hit right above his heart, and this time, Keenan stumbled back.

  “You’ve got to be faster,” Sam repeated, voice rumbling. “And stronger.” Then it was Sam’s turn to spin away. “When you’re ready for some real power, come find me.”

  What?

  Sam glanced back over his shoulder. “They never let souls escape. You should know that. You do know that. I’m betting that’s why you high-tailed it after your piece of ass once you regained your sanity.”

  Sanity.

  Keenan’s fingers began to smoke as the fire of his fury burned through him.

  “Ah ... got the firepower now, do you? That’s a good step. But you’ll need more than fire to keep your vamp alive.” He gave a little salute. “When you want to play, find me.”

  “You fucking asshole, where is—”

  “Now is that any way for an angel to talk?”

  His back teeth clenched. “I’m not an angel anymore.”

  The sunglasses tossed back his stark reflection. “No. You’re not.” Sam pointed at Keenan. “But you’ve still got the power of an angel in there. Just waiting to come out. And you’re gonna be wanting that magic and power back.”

  One touch to kill. His breath heaved out. No, he didn’t want that back. “You didn’t see Nicole.”

  Sam’s shoulders rolled. “I’ll give you a free one this time. Because, well ... you don’t have much time. Or rather, she doesn’t.”

  Humans were close by. He could almost feel their eyes. It was all he could do to pull the rage back and control the fire that wanted to shoot from him.

  “The last time I saw your lady, she was on the ground. Jerking. Her eyes were rolling back into her head.”

  “What did you do to her?” He’d rip Sammael apart and send the Fallen back to hell for keeps this time.

  “Not me.” Sam shook his head. “The good guys have her, and since your girl ain’t exactly good ... don’t expect her to survive until sunset.”

  What?

  But Sam was gone. Vanished. Only his scent remained. Not the light, flowery scent of an angel.

  Brimstone. The scent of hell.

  She woke up in a cage. Nicole opened her eyes, jumped up, and found herself trapped in a ten-by-twelve-foot jail cell.

  Just freaking perfect.

  She ran forward and grabbed the bars. “Hello!”

  The place seemed deserted. It looked like some kind of holding cell, and she was the only one being held.

  Uh oh.

  “Hey!” She shouted. A cop had to be around someplace. “You can’t do this! You can’t just taze a woman on the street and—”

  Metal groaned as a door opened. She sucked in a breath and stopped talking. A cop was coming toward her. Not the one who’d Tased her. A woman this time. She looked to be in her early thirties. The cop had short black hair and glaring brown eyes.

  “You’re not just any woman, Ms. St. James,” she said, Texas drawling beneath her words. “You’re a wanted felon. A criminal who nearly killed a police officer.”

  Nicole’s fingers tightened around the bars. “That was ... I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

  The door clanged shut behind the cop. “Of course. You were just hungry, right?”

  Nicole stepped away from the bars.

  “Hungry, and Officer Greg Hatten looked like the perfect snack.”

  “You ... know what I am.”

  A slow nod. The woman—her ID read Jennifer Connelly—pulled out her service weapon. “I know what you are, and I know how to kill you.”

  She couldn’t break through the bars, not while the sun was still up. The lethargy coursing through her body told her that the sun was most definitely up. “Then why am I still alive? If you want me dead—”

  A black brow rose. “You already are dead.”

  People just had to throw that up to her. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want to be a vamp, I didn’t mean to hurt that cop—”

  “Save the sob story.”

  Nicole blinked.

  “Let me guess ...” the cop continued with a smirk. “If you had it to do all over again, you’d go back to being human, right?”

  Not exactly. Being human meant being dead.

  But Connelly didn’t give her a chance to answer. She said, “Whatever. Here’s the deal. I’m gonna open your cage. You’re gonna try to get out.”

  Yes, that was a good plan. Because staying trapped in there wasn’t an option.

  Connelly lifted her gun. “You’re gonna come at me, and I’m gonna shoot you.”

  Nicole’s breath whispered out. Not such a good plan.

  “And because I’m such a fine shot, you’re gonna bleed to death, right here, where I can watch.” Connelly’s weapon was aimed at Nicole’s heart. “You see, I don’t much care for vamps. The dead should be in the ground, not on the streets, feeding.”

  “You don’t think someone else is going to notice when you shoot me? They’ll wonder what the hell happened in here!”

  “You attacked a cop.” Connelly gave a careless shrug of her shoulders. “No one here will give a shit what happens to you.” She approached the bars. Her eyes narrowed on Nicole. “I thought you’d be out a little longer.”

  “And I thought cops were supposed to help people.” This sucked. Seriously sucked. Her fangs were burning, pushing out thanks to the adrenaline rush that pumped through her. Her claws were growing and if that cop came closer, she’d give Connelly a scratch the cop wouldn’t soon forget.

  “We do help people.” The cop glanced over her shoulder. Probably to make sure no one else was seeing or hearing any of this. “I kill monsters.”

  “I’m not a monster! Six months ago, I was as human as you! I’m not—”

  “Vampires lie. They trick. Deceive. One promised my sister she’d live forever.”

  Oh, crap. This wasn’t going to end well.

  “You know what he did?”

  She could guess.

  “He ripped her throat open, and I had to find what was left of her body.” Connelly opened the cage and came inside. The gun barrel never wavered. “I know about you,” the cop said. “You play innocent now, but you attacked that sheriff just over the county line.”

  That punch would’ve come back to bite her. “I didn’t kill him.” Pointing that out seemed rather useless.

  “Probably because you didn’t get the chance.” Connelly’s eyes narrowed. “Tom called me and gave me a heads-up that you might be in the area. He was there when they found my sister’s body. He knew I’d understand just how to deal with someone like you.”

  She could not win with this cop. “Listen, I—”

  “But what about Jeff Quint?”

  A fist squeezed her heart.

  “Sam Bentley?”

  Dammit. “I didn’t want to kill them.” They haunted her now. She’d never forget their faces. Never.

  “Right.” The cop’s voice easily called bullshit. “You just got thirsty and you had to rip out their throats.” Her voice thickened with fury. “Just like that bastard did to my sister. He tore her open from one ear to the other.”

  Nicole kept her hand
s loose at her sides. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She understood the other woman’s pain and fury.

  “Really? Too bad. I can’t wait to hurt you.”

  Crap. “The cop who Tased me—he knows I’m in here.” He had to. “He could come and check and—”

  “No one’s checking on you. No one gives a damn if you live or die. As far as they’re concerned, you’re a cop killer—”

  Connelly was just steps away. Kill or be killed.

  Nicole lunged forward. Connelly didn’t have time to shoot. Nicole caught her wrist, twisted it, and heard the snap of bones. When the cop cried out, Nicole plowed back with her elbow, driving it right into the cop’s nose. Cartilage crunched, and blood spurted as the woman went down.

  Nicole kicked the gun out of the way. Her breath heaved out as she stared at the unconscious woman. “Lucky for you, I’m not a cop killer.” Though that blood was tempting. Good thing Connor had taught her a few tricks out of the bedroom. Maybe she did owe that SOB a bit after all. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the cop. “And lucky for me ...” She knelt next to the other woman. “I think we’re about the same size.”

  That meant the uniform might be a perfect fit.

  So for the big question ... how did a vamp go about exiting a police station? Well, if she was really lucky, she just walked right past the cops, her head down, and her body covered in a cop’s uniform.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to get cozy in here for a while,” Nicole told the unconscious woman as she studied her. Right size. Right hair color.

  She yanked off the cop’s shoes. Too small, but they’d have to do.

  Two minutes later, “Officer Jennifer Connelly” walked out of the holding cell. Her steps were sure, her head was down, and her heart thundered in her chest.

  Behind her, the prisoner sat hunched near the back wall. Her dark hair covered her face.

  As she marched down the long corridor out of the holding cell, Nicole felt the sweat slide down her back. She tossed her hand up to a few cops when she passed the bullpen, deliberately waving in such a way that her hand blocked her face.

  Then she could see the exit door just steps away. The place was packed with people up front and it was easy to blend with the crowd now. Easy to slip past and walk right out.

  She kept her pace nice and easy when she headed down the stone steps outside of the station. Nicole wanted to break and run, yet she couldn’t take the chance of eyes being on her. At the same time, she couldn’t move too slowly. If someone found Jennifer Connelly in her cell ...

  A motorcycle’s engine roared and she glanced up. Her breath shuddered out when she saw Keenan pulling up to the curb. Escape. Nicole pivoted on her heel and headed toward him.

  His head whipped to the right and his eyes locked on her. Immediately. Kinda creepy the way he could zero in on her.

  “Nicole?”

  She shook her head. Then jumped on the back of the motorcycle.

  “I was ... coming to save you,” he told her, his voice a bit hesitant.

  She laughed at that, had to, as she wrapped her arms around him. “This time, I saved myself.” Barely. “Now haul ass, angel, before the cops realize I’m not back in that cell.” The sun beat down on her, and she just wanted to slump over and sleep ...

  Soon.

  He revved the engine. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Then he hauled ass and got her the hell away from that station—and the cops who wanted her dead. She figured getting her to safety was the least the guy owed her then.

  It looked like she couldn’t count on the good guys for help anymore.

  I was ... coming to save you.

  Sweet.

  What would he do when he realized that she was too far gone, that she’d never be saved? Officer Connelly had been right. She’d killed. More than once. She’d liked that wild rush of power that came from taking so much blood.

  They were right to try and put her down. Unfortunately for them, she wasn’t in the mood to die.

  Nicole closed her eyes and held on to her angel. Tight. And they rode away as if hell really was at their heels.

  Sam stepped deeper into the shadows near the police station. Rather impressive. Nicole St. James had managed to save herself. No fallen angel needed.

  His lips curved.

  If she hadn’t saved herself, Keenan would have rushed inside to find a dead vamp. What would the Fallen have done then? Would his rage have broken through?

  Now that would have been a sight to behold.

  But a time for rage would come, soon enough.

  Because Keenan could run with his little vampire, but he wouldn’t be able to hide her. Not for long.

  You couldn’t hide from fate, and Nicole’s fate had been decided long ago.

  Death.

  Even a fallen angel wouldn’t be able to save her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nicole’s arms wrapped tightly around him, her breasts crushed against his back, and her scent surrounded him.

  Safe.

  He’d figured out Sam’s riddle too late. He’d gone rushing to that station, and then she’d come rushing to him. Wearing, of all things, a cop’s uniform. Not that she didn’t make that uniform look good ...

  But he wanted to hear the story behind that outfit.

  Keenan kept driving until the lights of the city were a distant memory. The truckstop he pulled into was more a bar than anything else. Run-down, with loud country music blasting into the night, the stop didn’t look particularly inviting. The bike was sputtering though, and he knew the stop was as far as they’d get.

  Until he got them other transportation.

  He killed the engine and for a moment, he listened to the someone-done-me-wrong lyrics.

  Nicole didn’t ease her grip even though they weren’t moving anymore. He rather liked that.

  “I can’t go in,” she whispered, and the words feathered against his ear. His cock jerked at her voice. Sexy, husky. His whole body tensed.

  Why did he react this way to her? Only her?

  Temptation. Everyone had a dark challenge to face.

  He turned to look at her.

  She swiped her tongue over her lips. “We’re trying to fade into the background, right? No one in that joint will forget a female cop.”

  He bent, pulled out the clothes he’d purchased earlier, and pushed them into her hands.

  “What’s—where did you get these?”

  He shrugged. “I got them while I was out today.”

  Her delicate jaw hardened. “Oh, that’s right. You would’ve had plenty of time to shop while I was getting threatened by your friend, tazed, and thrown into a cage.” She jumped off the motorcycle and hugged those clothes to her chest. “So don’t even think this makes us close to even again, got me?”

  He stilled, his attention caught by her words. “What friend.” Not a question.

  She glanced to the left. The right. The lot was dark and he’d made sure to park in the deepest shadows. She jerked off her shirt and gave him a fast glimpse of her breasts. Her sexy bra cupped them nicely. Oh, how he’d like another taste ...

  Then she yanked on the new shirt, a tight T-shirt that clung just right to her curves.

  “Nicole.” His voice was a rumble and his eyes were straining to see her breasts. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Tell me what friend you’re talking about”

  She ditched her pants. Her legs really were perfect. Long, sleek. He’d been so close to learning every detail of her body—inside and out.

  Would she ever let him close again?

  Doubtful.

  “Eyes up.” And she zipped the jeans he’d bought for her. She’d even put on the new panties. Well, the scrap that was supposed to be panties.

  The lady had done a full-on strip in the parking lot. The handlebars bent beneath his grip. When the metal groaned, her head snapped toward him. “What are you—”

  He bounded off the motorcycle and grabbed her arms. “What damn friend?�
�� Keenan bit out because he didn’t have any friends who’d be walking the earth.

  “The big guy with eyes the same blue as yours. He had black hair and black clothes to match because he’s all goth.”

  “Sam.”

  “Yeah, that’s what he said—”

  He lifted her onto her toes. His gaze bored into hers. “What did he say to you?”

  “Ease up on the grip!”

  He immediately eased his hold but didn’t let her go. Sam had gone after her. “He could’ve killed you.”

  “Why does everyone seem to think I’m so easy to kill? I’m still here, still walking around, I’m—”

  “For someone like Sam, you are easy to kill.” But then, most people were—humans and Other.

  She shook her head. “That guy was bullshitting. He was a demon who wanted to mess with my head.”

  “Sam isn’t a demon.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then what is he?”

  “He’s like me.”

  “Fallen.”

  Not a question, but he nodded anyway. “Only Sam has been walking this earth for a whole lot longer than you can ever imagine.” His fingers were stroking her skin. Reflex. “And he’s stronger, so much stronger, than any level-ten demon living now.”

  “And why’s he coming after me?” That was fear making her voice rise and break.

  He clenched his teeth. “Because of me.”

  Her breath caught. “He said ... I thought he was lying but he said you fell—”

  Damn him.

  “For me.”

  A big rig pulled into the lot with its tires rolling and its brakes groaning. Keenan pushed Nicole back, moving quickly, and in seconds they were up against the side of the building. Not the best place, but at least they had cover in case any trouble came looking for them.

  “Is it true?” Nicole wanted to know, her voice dipping to rub right over his skin. “Am I the reason you fell?”

  “No.” Not a lie. “I fell ... because of what I did.”

  “Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

  Nicole pulled her hands away. “He seemed so sure it was because of me.”

  Keenan had perfect vision—day or night—and he could see the way her gaze flickered away from his as if she were embarrassed.

  “But you were my—my guardian,” she said, “so I just figured—”