by Cynthia Eden
Good luck with that. She knew Az was long gone. Again.
Shaking her head, Seline climbed into the silver SUV. Cole slammed the door shut behind her.
And as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, she wondered why her back still hurt—right beneath both of her shoulder blades. Her back burned and ached, and she felt like she’d lost . . . something in the fire.
A fire that had only been in her mind.
When Sam finally made it to Sunrise, two demons were guarding the door. Tension held his body tight, and rage continued to pump through him.
When he closed his eyes, he could still see Omayo. The messenger angel had never hurt anyone. He hadn’t deserved to go out like that.
Sam pushed past the guards and hurried inside the club. The place was deserted, of course, that’s why he’d ordered Cole to bring Seline there. No one ever actually came to Sunrise when the sun was up. And he didn’t worry about any uninvited guests following him inside then. The demons at the front would keep the place secure. They were a whole lot stronger than they looked.
His gaze drifted around the bar. No sign of Seline. Or Cole.
He remembered the pale flash of Seline’s face. Her hands had trembled as she’d talked about the fire.
Damn Az. Though he’d tried to show no reaction, Sam knew just what his brother had done. Az had given Seline a taste of hell.
Soon you’ll be the one tasting hell, brother.
The faintest murmur of voices reached him. He glanced upstairs. He had a small apartment up there. Just a bedroom and a bath, a place to crash when the nights rolled together.
He headed for the metal stairs. He needed to find out exactly what Az had said to Seline because he already had a dark suspicion, one that didn’t bode well for the Fallen in the area.
A few weeks back, Az had tried to kill another Fallen, but Keenan had been too strong for his brother’s attack. Well, Keenan and the vampire lover who’d fought so fiercely at her man’s side.
If Az had already tried to kill one Fallen, and Omayo’s blood had been on his hands . . . still trying to play God, Az? Even after the Fall? You think you’re the one who should send souls to hell?
He threw open the door to his apartment, and it took the scene before him a bit too long to register.
Seline lounged on the bed, clad in an oversize white robe while Cole bent over her.
What. The. Fuck.
She’d been attacked, weak, so she would have needed power—
I didn’t give her enough.
So she’d turned to Cole? A snarl broke from Sam’s lips.
What. The. Fuck.
Sam lunged across the room and grabbed for Cole.
Seline saw him. She jumped up and knocked the demon back before Sam could touch him.
“Dammit, Seline, you didn’t have to—” Cole broke off when he got a look at Sam’s face. Then the demon’s eyes darted from Sam to Seline. “Guess you did.” A long sigh slipped from his lips. “I am so screwed,” he muttered.
Seline’s clothes were tossed onto the floor. “Yeah,” Sam said very definitely, “you are.”
But Seline stepped between them before Sam could make Cole wish for death. “Ease up, Sam. This isn’t what you think.”
Doubtful. “That so? I’m not staring at a succubus who decided to get a little power surge . . . and a horny-ass demon who is about to learn a whole new meaning to the word ‘hurt’?”
“Succubus?” Cole repeated, and gave a low sigh. “Yep, that would explain some things.”
Seline’s cheeks flushed. Sam wasn’t sure if that was from anger or embarrassment, and, why would a succubus feel either right then?
He hesitated.
“My clothes were covered in blood,” she snapped. “I was covered in blood. I showered, and I didn’t have anything else to wear. I was not putting those back on again.” She pointed to the bloodstained pile of clothing.
That bit he could buy, but why had Cole been close enough to take a bite out of her? Sam slanted a hard glance the demon’s way.
Cole had his hands up. “Easy. There was some blood on her cheek. I was just wiping it away.” There was a cloth in his right hand. Cole’s chin lifted. “Though I won’t say that I wasn’t tempted.”
Bastard.
As they glared at each other, Cole’s eyes narrowed and bled to black. “If you knew she was a succubus, then you knew what she’d need. Next time, you’d better take care of her.”
Or I will.
Sam clenched his teeth. He could see the message in Cole’s gaze. One of the reasons he liked the demon—Cole wasn’t the type to scare easily.
He also loved the ladies, too much.
“Don’t worry,” Sam managed. “I’ve got her.” And you stay the fuck away from now on. Sam knew his message would be crystal clear in his gaze, too.
“Uh, excuse me?” Seline interrupting, waving her hands near his face. “You don’t have anything.” She was still pale, but her body wasn’t trembling.
She still needed him.
“Get out, Cole,” Sam ordered bluntly.
Cole shrugged. He cast one more look at Seline, and then he headed for the door.
Sam pushed down his—what the hell? Was it really jealousy eating its way through his stomach?—and offered Seline his hand. “Let me help you.” Kissing her wasn’t exactly a hardship.
“You bastard!”
He blinked.
“You come in here, acting like a jerk, ready to attack Cole. And, yeah, I saw your eyes, so I know what you were planning. You bust in here, do your Hulk routine, and then you actually think I’m going to jump into your arms!”
That would have been the best scenario for him, yes.
“Just so you know.” She belted the robe around her middle even tighter. “I don’t need your help. Whatever your brother did, it was temporary. No permanent damage, so don’t feel like you have to sacrifice that hot bod of yours for me again.”
It hadn’t exactly been a sacrifice. Sam stared at her and decided to be honest. She deserved that. “He showed you hell.”
Her lips parted. “Uh, come again?”
“You saw fire, right? I’m betting flames of nearly every color, and they were bright and hungry and it seemed like they were feeding on your flesh.” Been there, done that, and he’d never forget the trip. “It’s a trick some angels can manage. It’s an illusion, nothing more, but let’s just say it’s a tool that’s real effective at getting some folks to repent.”
She rolled her shoulders. “It sure felt real. I could even taste the ash.”
Because Az was so powerful. With a lesser angel or Fallen, the illusion wouldn’t have been as consuming.
Sam stepped toward her.
She stiffened. “I said I didn’t need any power. I’m fine now.”
But he knew she was lying. He could see the faintest lines of strain around her eyes and mouth. “Maybe this isn’t about you. Maybe it’s about me.”
She blinked and stared up at him. The confusion was plain to see on her face.
He eliminated the last bit of distance between them. His hand rose slowly, and his fingers traced down her cheek. She didn’t flinch away from him, but Seline held herself perfectly still as he stroked her.
“I want you.” Blunt. But that was just the way he was.
“You had me,” she told him. Those sexy, dark eyes of hers narrowed. “Then you walked out, and left me hanging.”
Rather literally. He managed not to wince, but he figured he could give her some more truths as payment for his crime. “I don’t trust many people in this world.” Maybe two. Possibly three.
“Neither do I,” she shot right back, and he knew she’d given him truth, too.
Her skin was like silk beneath his fingers. “Perhaps it’s time we both tried a little harder.”
Her husky laughter took him by surprise. “You actually want me to trust you? After you left me?”
“I was trying to protect you.” Another truth
, one she might not believe. He frowned, then said quietly, “When it comes to trust, do you have a choice? Rogziel knows that you’re involved with me. I hate to break it to you, but your name has just been blasted across the news. The cops found Alex’s body, and a witness ID’d you as being at the scene of the crime.” A witness he was sure worked with Rogziel.
They were making it known to the world that she was to be hunted.
“You already have others on your trail,” he told her. “Stay with me, trust me, and I’ll get you through this.”
Her gaze held his. “And when it’s over? You’ll let me just walk away?”
“If that’s what you want.” A nice blend of lie and truth.
Her breath expelled in a soft rush. “But you have to stop acting like a jealous jerk, got me? I’m gonna be around other men.”
Right. Succubus. That’s what she—
“But I won’t have sex with anyone . . . but you.”
She nearly had him lunging at her then. Her confession had his already eager cock swelling even more for her. Did the woman realize how sexy she was?
Her fingers trailed down his chest.
Probably.
“The thing is,” she confessed as her fingertips skated across his nipples, “I don’t want anyone else.”
He had on too many clothes. And that robe she wore—his—had to go.
But before he could push the robe out of the way, Seline stepped back. Her hands rose, and she slipped off the robe. It dropped to the floor with a soft rustle. She stood before him, completely naked. Skin pale and perfect. Nipples tight and pink. Sex . . . waiting.
“I don’t want soft kisses and sweet words,” she told him as she straightened her shoulders. “I don’t want promises or lies. I just want you. And I want you now.”
Could she be more his kind of woman?
He yanked off his shirt. “Sweetheart, I’m yours.”
Her smile would have made a lesser man beg. It made Sam lunge for her. A guy could only hold out for so long.
In an instant, they were on the bed. He didn’t start with her mouth. Didn’t start with those delectable breasts. Instead he spread her beneath him on the bed. Sam took his time letting his hands slide up her thighs, and then when she was parted and ready, he bent his head and took his taste.
Better than wine.
He stroked her with his tongue. He worked her sweet flesh, enjoying every husky moan that broke from her lips. His fingers slipped inside of her. His lips feathered over her clit.
She jerked her hips up. Not to get away, but to get closer to his mouth.
Taste. Take. He did. Again and again, and she came against his mouth as she gasped out his name.
Her nails dug into his shoulders. He felt a push of power, and the room seemed to roll around him. He looked up and realized that he was on his back.
Seline smiled down at him; then she bent and took his aroused flesh into her mouth. Hot. Tight. And her tongue . . .
His back teeth clenched as he gritted out her name.
But Seline didn’t stop. She took him in deeper, and she swallowed. She sucked. Sweat slickened his skin as he fought to hold on to his control—that desperate control that wanted to crack.
Then she lifted her head and licked her lips.
A growl burst from his throat.
Seline straddled him, and the hot core of her sex pressed over the length of his cock. She leaned forward, positioned the head of his erection at the entrance to her body, and then she rose above him, her breasts too temptingly close to his mouth.
His lips closed around her breast just as she pushed down with her hips. His cock slid deep inside, and her hot, tight sex gripped every inch of him.
Fucking perfect.
She rose again. Slid down.
He licked her breast. Sucked the nipple. Let her feel the score of his teeth.
She pushed down. Rose up.
His control shattered. He grabbed her, wrapping his hands tightly around her waist. He rolled them and knew they were wrecking the bed. His hips drove down, and he thrust as deep into her as he could go.
Harder. Deeper.
The bed shook. Her nails scraped over his back. His hands bit into her waist. His cock plunged inside of her.
Again, again.
Her eyes were closed. No fucking good. “Look at me,” he growled.
Her lashes flew up, and pitch-black eyes met his. The darkness had never burned so bright.
Yes.
She came as she stared at him. He saw the flash of pleasure wipe across her face as her inner muscles clamped around his cock. The ripples of her release stroked his length, and he erupted inside of her.
He held her as the tremors shook him. The pleasure burst through him, hot and long.
She held him, too, her grip so strong—almost as if she were afraid he’d pull away. She didn’t need to worry. He wasn’t about to let her go.
His stare was still on hers, and he wondered just what she’d seen in that wild instant when he’d only known . . . her.
Her skin glowed. Her cheeks flushed a light pink. The black of her eyes faded to warm brown as she stared up at him.
She looked beautiful, sexy, and . . . vulnerable.
A deceptive package.
Slowly, he withdrew from her. The wet glide of flesh on flesh had his cock hardening again.
But as much as he wanted to take her more—over and over—there was danger coming.
He stared down at her body. His. No condom. His gaze rose back to hers. He hadn’t used a condom before, either, and . . .
“It’s all right,” she told him quietly. “I’m safe.”
No, she wasn’t. Neither of them had to worry about diseases, those didn’t spread between the Other, but safe? No, they were a long way from being the safe sort.
So they’d “trust” each other, but they’d both keep lying.
When she walked into her house, Anthea Johnson heard the soft rustle of footsteps. She smiled, knowing her husband was already home. She and Ron had planned to sneak away this weekend. They’d head out to the little cabin by the lake that Ron loved so much and enjoy a weekend of nonstop sex. “Ron?” Maybe she’d get lucky and come back pregnant. Oh, that would be—
She saw Ron sitting in the kitchen chair. She hurried forward. “Hi, honey, I’ll be ready in five . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized something was wrong with the angle of Ron’s head.
Not his head. His neck.
Very wrong.
Her scream echoed around her and shattered the windowpanes. She lunged forward and grabbed his shirt. “Ron?”
He slumped against her.
And that was when she heard the soft laughter coming from behind her.
Sam had found her clothes to wear. Or rather, Sam had sent Cole to find them. The jeans and T-shirt fit perfectly, and even the boots were the right size.
Never underestimate a demon.
Or an angel.
Dressed and semi-ready to face the world, Seline took a deep breath and said, “Your brother wants me dead.” The lust had cooled, and her energy was back, finally. A girl could only bluff so long, and now was the time to lay all her cards on the table.
“He wants me dead, too.”
Yes. He did. “Az told me that all the Fallen would die.” She was pretty sure that the guy had meant by his hand.
“It’s not easy to kill Fallen,” Sam murmured. “The Death Touch doesn’t work on our own kind.”
Well, that was interesting. She filed that little tidbit away in her mind.
Sam had pulled on a pair of jeans, nothing else, and her eyes wanted to stray down the muscled expanse of his chest as she looked at him.
Seline cleared her throat. “But the Fallen can die.” Just not by any weapon of man, so the legend and rumors claimed. No mortal weapon. No Death Touch. Now that sure raised the question . . . how had Az killed Omayo? The guy’s throat had looked like an animal ripped it open.
“This isn�
�t the first time Az has gone after a Fallen.” Sam’s rumbling words had her gaze flying to his face.
“He’s attacked someone else?”
Sam’s lips curved in a smile that caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. “Before his lily-white ass got kicked out, Az took it upon himself to deliver out justice to the Fallen.”
Justice. She did not like where this was going. “He left me alive deliberately,” Seline said. Not just a great stroke of luck on her part. Az had wanted her to live so that she could deliver his message. “He’s going after the Fallen.” No wonder he’d written Fallen on the wall—the guy had been marking, claiming his kill. “I don’t think he’s going to stop until they’re all dead.”
His stare measured her.
“Are there more Fallen in the city?” Seline didn’t know of any, but maybe Sam did. The guy knew everything about the Other in New Orleans. “If there are, I think—I think Az will go after them.”
Sam’s stare still locked on her, and she realized that, yes, he knew about more Fallen. He just didn’t know if he could tell her about them. Anger whipped through her blood. “Dammit, Sam, trust, remember? I’m not asking because I want to hurt them! I want to help them. If we can get to the Fallen before Az does, we can stop him.” Didn’t he see that this was their chance?
“We can kill him.”
Seline nodded.
His head tilted to the right as he studied her. “There is one more Fallen in New Orleans.”
Her heart started a double-time beat. “Where is he?” But she was already heading for the door as she tossed out the question. “Let’s get to him, now.”
“Not him,” Sam muttered. “Her.”
Anthea’s head lifted slowly, and she stared at the man who walked before her. Her husband was dead. His eyes—green and empty—would haunt her forever.
“Why?” The one question was torn from her. “Ron never hurt anyone. He wasn’t meant to die yet, he wasn’t—”
“You weren’t meant to be with him.” Cold, callous, and the words fanned the rage that was slowly splintering her apart.
“He was the only one I was meant to have!” The pain, the burn, the fall . . . everything had been for him.