by Cynthia Eden
She moved to brush 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 the guy 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. That guy 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. Right then, she could still taste ash. She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her without replying. The room 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 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 flesh.
She felt the sudden stillness that tightened his body.
She leaned closer to him, and her lips feathered over the raised flesh.
“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 then, crushing his lips to hers, and, oh, yes, that was 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—
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, pushing right over her clit as he thrust into her. Then his fingers were there, pushing between their bodies and rubbing right where she—
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, pulling it right inside her. 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 tight. 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 then. Rogziel hadn’t told her how quickly the 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. Rogziel’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 demanded. 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—
“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 once more over his scars, 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 flesh 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. . . you’re . . .”
He withdrew. Thrust deep. Her legs wrapped around his hips as she pushed back against him.
“Giving to me,” he gritted, “making me stronger . . .”
He was making her stronger. Every touch. Every kiss.
His lips met hers in an openmouthed 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 told 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 then 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 flesh. “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—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 right then, 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 the 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 angel—one who had connections to the demons in Moorecroft’s 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 said, but the question just slipped out. “Do you want to trade what you’ve become and just go—”
“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 that 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 just 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. ”
Yeah, 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.
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.