Claimed by my Dark Angel: A Forbidden Paranormal Romance (Saints to Sinners Book 1)

by Fiona Darling

  My stomach drops as the door is wrenched open from the other side. The doorknob is torn from my hand, my grip tight enough to yank me forward past the threshold and into the strong, dark embrace of a tall stranger. The blood in my veins runs cold, and a deep voice, with all the tenderness of gravel, calls me by a name that isn’t my own.

  “Elise.”

  My blood runs cold. I slowly look up to meet the face of my captor, and I find myself pinned underneath the most vibrant of amber eyes I’ve ever seen. The eyes of a wolf. The man who holds me against him in a crushing grip that makes it difficult to breathe is undoubtedly a shifter. He’s got the build of an ox on steroids, with not a soft spot on him. His muscles shift against me as I struggle to free myself, to no avail. I might as well be a fruit fly wrestling in the web of a tarantula. There is no hope of freeing myself.

  The man is likely in his early thirties, with jet black hair spiked up like an early 2000’s douche bag, thin lips, and a patch of stubble covering his sharp jaw.

  He’s only said one word to me, just one. Hearing the name of my dead twin in his mouth is enough to ignite the rage inside me that has laid dormant ever since my sister’s funeral. It’s the same rage that drove me to follow Gideon from the funeral to The Guardian that first time, the rage that brought me here, that rage that had me dialing Revolver…

  “Revolver!“

  My eyes widen, and the name tumbles out of me before I even realize what I’ve said. My captor confirms my intuition when his eyes light up, mouth twisting into a malevolent sneer.

  “Took you a second. Thought that bullet I put in your head might have messed with your brain but it looks like you should be thanking me…” He keeps his grip around my waist tight as his gaze scrapes over my body. A wave of nausea bubbles in my stomach, and for a second, I consider vomiting on the man. But I doubt the surprise of it would be enough to wrench myself free. Even if I did he was faster than me. I would never reach Gideon in time.

  Gideon! How long would I have to be away for him to come looking for me? I have to stall! I see now that Revolver did not come alone. In the corner, another man with long brunette hair and piercing eyes of gold lurks in the shadows by the bare mattress on the floor.

  I swallow hard.

  “Shit, Elise. Look at you, you gained weight in all the right places. You look healthy. You almost look like you’re a different person.”

  I am a different person, you creep. I clench my jaw tight so the words I’m thinking don’t fall out of me in anger. My eyes narrow into slits, trying to think of something to say that will hold these dogs off long enough for Gideon to find me. I’m not sure if a fallen can take on two shifters, but his chances of winning are better than him taking on the entire Half-Moon bar, like he was actually planning on doing before I talked him out of it.

  Especially with a gun that shoots silver bullets.

  “You broke my door,” I say stupidly. Fuck. The stress of the situation makes it hard to think. The last time Revolver saw Elise, he put a bullet in her head.

  Focus, Sophie!

  The werewolf throws his head back in a howl-like laugh and his friend in the corner joins in. “Since when do you care about this shit hole? Besides, you should be worried about me smashing your skull in to match your door.”

  Despite my best efforts to keep my cool, panic lurks up my spine and seeps into my brain. It’s all I can do to keep myself from going limp in Revolver’s arms.

  “Y-you’re supposed to be at The Half-Moon.”

  “Ha. You think I’m that stupid? You somehow manage to come back from the dead. Not sure if I believe your insurance scam story, in fact, know I don’t. You’re not smart enough for that, but you are smart enough to not repeat what went down in that alley when you couldn’t pay me back for all my inventory you took. I have some of my brothers waiting for you back at the bar in case you were dumb enough to show your face there. Somehow, I figured you’d be here.”

  I have no idea what time it is but it can’t be a minute later than 12:20. How long had they been waiting?

  Revolver’s hand slides up from my waist to grab at my upper arm, holding it in a brutal grip that will undoubtedly leave a bruise. If I’m lucky, that’s the only mark he’ll leave on me. My gut twists at the thought.

  “So, my sweet little junkie. You’re not smart enough to fake your own death and trick your insurance company into paying a dead woman 25,000 dollars. But I’ll hand it to you, whatever is going on, you have me stumped.”

  The drug dealer gives a savage jerk on my arm, pulling me up so that my toes are barely scraping the floor and my nose is touching his. His breath washes over me. It’s tangy, sweet, and musky all at once. It reminds me of something. Chewing tobacco, whiskey, and that dusty smell of fur…the scent of an alcoholic shifter. It’s the scent Gideon carried when we first met, but his was cleaner. It didn’t carry the underlying traces of mongrel.

  Revolver’s been drinking, and I’m not sure if that bit of information will help me, or just make whatever evil payback he has for me easier. Whatever sick intentions he’s undoubtedly replayed in his mind over and over, he’ll make me pay for belittling him for not knowing how to use a gun.

  A sense of dread crashes over me as I inspect his tight muscle t-shirt and his fitted jeans. I don’t think he’s packing, at least not a firearm. No, that would be too quick…

  “So, you obviously don’t have my money, do you?” His lip curls over a pointed canine that glints through the dull moonlight that’s begun to filter through the blinds of the apartment’s only window. It must have stopped raining.

  I force my breath steady and look the shifter in the eyes, hoping upon hope that I look sincere and not completely terrified. But I was never a good actress.

  “It’s in my car. I didn’t think you would be here. Come out with me to my car…” Where my big scary boyfriend is waiting to kick your asses.

  But Revolver fails to take the bait. “Not sure if I believe that either, but I’ll find out soon enough after I kill you.”

  My heart rate skyrockets, thundering against my ribcage like a war drum. Gideon’s angel senses are more potent than a human’s, but can they pick up on my panic hundreds of feet away with concrete and drywall and two bloodthirsty brutes standing in our way? Not likely.

  I open my mouth to scream but meaty hand clamps over my mouth. Revolver arches his towering frame over me, molten eyes flashing in the dark. His lips press to my ear and he whispers to me in a tender voice, one that sounds alien on his tongue.

  “Don’t worry Elise, we go way back you and I. Maybe, you can pay me for the goods you took with your body, just like old times.” My captor looks up, arching a brow at the brunette lackey in the corner, whose smiling giddily to himself like a little boy about to open presents before Christmas.

  “What do you think, Diesel? Should we let our old customer pay us with her pussy?”

  Diesel nods, his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing with an eager gulp. I’ll find a way to tear this entire damned forsaken building down with me before I let these murdering bastards put their hands on me. But I have to be smart about this. If I kick and scream, this will turn into a battle of strength, and it’s a fight I’ll definitely lose.

  I can’t lose.

  That means adopting a tactic that makes me sick just thinking about it…but it’s better than getting violated and murdered by my sister’s killers.

  My cheeks heat against Revolver’s palm, and I moan softly into his sweaty skin, nodding as much as I’m able to in his vice-like hold.

  “Mhm, is that a yes?”

  I snap my eyes shut and nod again.

  “There’s a good girl,” he coos to me as though I’m not being threatened with brutal murder if I refuse him. My flesh crawls underneath his as dry, possessive lips press against my throat. He chuckles against me, the sound reverberating up my throat. I pray to whatever god made Gideon that he comes soon, but in reality, I’ve only been gone for a few minutes.
>
  No, I can’t wait for him to rescue me.

  His hand drops from my mouth, allowing me to speak. By sheer will power, I force my body not to tremble, and I keep my voice steady and sensual even though I feel like screaming and vomiting and harming these men for what they’ve done to my sister, what they’re trying to do to me.

  “Will you and Diesel share me?” I murmur through a silky purr, biting my lip through a pressed smirk. I’m totally out of my element, and I never got good marks in drama class back in school, but Diesel and Revolver appear delighted none the less by my suggestion.

  “You’ve gotten a lot sluttier since our last transaction.” Revolver says through a dark chuckle.

  I keep my force smile steady as I step out of Revolver’s arms and stride slowly over to Diesel, making sure to hold his gaze like my life depends on it. Because it does. But my attention is on the window he’s standing in front of. I step into the shifter’s tree-trunk-like arms and entwine them around me, my back pressed flat against the great lug’s sinewy chest. My movements are slow, seductive. His cock hardens in his jeans as the cleft of my ass presses into him, slowly teasing him with the sway of my hips. I inch backward, oh so slowly, and he follows, stepping back with his greedy hands exploring the curves and contour of my body.

  I’m acutely aware of Revolver’s molten gaze hot and heavy on me, watching his brother paw and pet me like he has a right to. His own member is rock hard against his leg, and I can see its clear outline. I swallow and turn my attention back to Diesel, whose fingers pinch at my nipples and his hot breath spills onto my throat as he arches over me…

  Mustering all the strength I can, I throw my entire body weight into his chest and fling my arms out, anchoring myself to the window sill. Caught by surprise and with nowhere to go but backward, Diesel’s body stumbles back. We’re so close to the window, he has no time to catch himself, and his weight plummets through the blinds and glass in a deafening clatter.

  I whirl around in time to see the thug’s massive frame twist in the darkness, and in a blur of brown, he shifts. The wolf hits the ground outside, landing on his feet just in time.

  I curse under my breath, having hoped my ploy would at least permanently eliminate the threat. But there is little time for lament. Revolver is on top of me in the blink of an eye, his fingers clamping tight around my throat. I can’t breathe. My eyes water, and my vision blurs as I gasp for air.

  Darkness closes in on me. All I can see is amber eyes, smoldering with malice and fury.

  “You fucking bitch.”

  Chapter 21

  Gideon

  Quite suddenly, I’m torn out of my daydreams revolving around my new life with my mate, when a large man is thrown from the window of the building complex’s top floor.

  Fucking hell.

  I’m out of the car and sprinting with inhuman speed towards the falling man to catch him before he meets a sudden and gruesome end.

  My inner protector tenses and my stomach lurches when I realize I won’t reach him in time. My gut drops even further when the man’s form shifts in a streak of teeth and fur, just before he hits the ground as a wolf. If it had been a normal animal, it would have died the moment it met the ground. If it had been a normal animal it wouldn’t have been thrown from the top floor of an apartment building.

  The creature lands on its feet like a cat and turns towards me with hackles raised and teeth bared. Its eyes are a putrid yellow, it’s fur a dirt brown. Saliva spews from its jowls as it snarls. It knows exactly what I am and who I am, by my scent.

  I have no doubt every wolf in the Tacoma Pack knows me as Elise’s guardian. And I’ll make sure this sorry fucker is the first to know I’m Sophie’s mate.

  “Where is my girl?” I spit, balling my fists at my side. The cool steel of the gun I have stuffed into my belt buckle is now like ice against my skin, as if reminding me of its pretense. But I don’t make a move for it. I want the pleasure of beating this asshole with my fists. Even the lowest class of angels can take on a single werewolf.

  The wolf doesn’t answer my questions, shifters with a non-humanoid form can’t. His only answer is a vicious growl, displaying a gnarly set of razor-sharp, yellow fangs. He begins to circle me as if I’m the prey.

  My inner protector thrashes against this mortal cage that will forever hold my true form. I long to feel my wings burst from my shoulder blades, the rush of unearthly power flood my veins, and my senses ignite with all the sensations one being can possibly absorb.

  But I can’t. Elise’s death will forever be a dark cloud that hangs over me, and I will always live in its shadow…Because of this fucker.

  “You murdered my ward!”

  The wolf hesitates for a moment, gears turning behind the sheen of its yellow eyes like I’ve said something to confuse it. It’s because he thinks Elise is upstairs. I wonder if it was she who threw a full-grown man, a werewolf, through a window?

  That’s my mate, my fiery she-devil. My Sophie.

  The shifter’s attention has drifted from me and even if it’s just for a second, it might as well be all the time in the world for an angel hell-bent on revenge. I lunge at the animal, driving my clenched fist into the dead center of its nose with every ounce of strength I possess. It’s the first time I’ve used my full strength since my wings were taken from me, and I’m surprised by my power when the wolf’s body is flung back against the plaster facade of the building with such force, the wall cracks like it’s been hit by a wrecking ball.

  The beast whimpers, falling to the asphalt with a fine dusting of plaster sprinkled over its fur.

  It struggles to get back to its feet, and I feel as though I’m radiating more mercy than Paradise has ever shown angels like me in eons when I allow the wolf space to struggle up from the ground.

  “Get up and fight me, you fucking animal,” I growl, every vein in my body bulging and ticking with the power, the adrenaline, and the pure fury charging through my bloodstream. I feel like I’m on fire, my chest heaving with labored breaths though I’ve barely broken a sweat.

  I feel like an angel out of Hell, bent on delivering sweet vengeance in the glorious name of justice.

  Or perhaps it’s something darker than that. Whatever it is, I don’t give a fuck.

  I feel great.

  I feel alive.

  I feel powerful.

  I feel like a guardian.

  The wolf jumps at me, his reflexes so agile he’s a streak of brown and yellow, gnashing teeth. But I’m faster. I pluck him from the air as he lunges. I grab onto his scruff with an iron-tight grip.

  The creature thrashes and writhes with a strength that would be more suited to a beast three times his size. My hold over him slips, just for a moment. That’s all he needs to sink his teeth into my shoulder. Getting your trapezius bitten by a three-hundred-pound werewolf is not unlike getting your dick caught in the door of a moving car.

  Or at least I imagine.

  It’s at this point that I fumble for God’s Teeth. With the barrel gripped tight in my clenched fist, I bring the firearm down onto the shifter’s head, the mother of pearl and silver flashing in the moonlight. The wolf’s claws catch the side of my head, and in the next instant, the right side of my face ignites in searing pain. A warm flood of wetness seeps down my face, blinding one eye.

  I hold on to the wolf like my life depends on it, Sophie’s life too. If I lose my grip over him, he would have the advantage. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen. For a heartbeat’s moment, my mind slips to consider the future should I fail to protect Sophie.

  Sophie would meet the same fate as her sister, a fate I could have prevented should I have been more attentive. The horror of that future, and how close it was before me in the form of snapping teeth and spittle drenched jowls, fills me with a new source of strength.

  I grab tight of the wolf’s scruff and with all my might I smack him against the building wall. The satisfying crunch of bones and a canine yelp is like
music to my ears. I look down and find the beast shifting before me, unable to hold his animal form.

  In the next moment, I’m clasping the neck of a naked and battered man. He’s big, not as big as me. He looks like he’s been hit by a semi-truck. I do not pity him.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t reach inside you and twist your guts till they face out?”

  “I didn’t do anything to you,” the wolf spits a mouthful of blood, splattering across my face. I don’t flinch.

  My grip tightens around the shifter’s throat until he’s gurgling for air, his skin as white as a sheet and his eyes bulging.

  “You supplied my ward with drugs. You terrorized her, you manipulated her, you made her chase me away. Then you murdered her.”

  I lift my arm, hauling the pathetic man up in the air so his bare toes hardly scrape the ground. “Killing you won’t bring her back, but it sure as hell will make me feel better.”

  His fingers paw at my hand locked around his throat, gasping to speak. I barely make out the words. “N-not Rev-volver,” he sputters in a spew of saliva and blood.

  I release him, dumping him on the ground. “What? Where’s Revolver?”

  Despite his already bruised throat, the shifter manages to bark out a rueful laugh. “He’s upstairs, probably already balls deep in your ward by now, making her work for that inventory she never paid for. I hope he fucking breaks her, for throwing me out the window.”

  My stomach lurches. I crane my neck back to look up at the shattered window where the shifter was thrown from several stories. Too high up for me to hear anything that isn’t screaming. She isn’t screaming, that could be good or bad.

  I glance back down at the man one last time, who’s already shifted back into his animal form. He’s injured and can’t fight. He’ll crawl back to Seattle, and by the time he makes it there, Sophie and I will already be in Portland, starting our new lives together. Far and away from this mess.