by Cynthia Eden
It didn’t matter. The flesh would grow back eventually.
“You can’t do this,” Az said, pacing in front of him. “This plan is just insane. You were always desperate to get off the clouds, and now you’re bargaining to get back upstairs?”
Sam didn’t speak.
“Insane,” Az muttered again.
The light scent of roses teased Sam’s nose. He spun around. “Seline!”
“No.” Delia drifted down beside him. She clasped her hands in front of her body, and her gaze darted to the blood-splattered ground, then back to him. “You don’t need to sacrifice. No trade should be made.”
And with her words, the pain came back, only this time it was a different kind of pain. One that seemed to slice right through his heart. “Seline?”
A brief nod. “Sh-she fell.”
His head sagged forward even as his hands clenched into fists.
“Well, damn.” From Az.
“When?” Sam demanded. Seline.
“Moments ago. I tried to stop her, but she wanted you too much.”
His chest ached.
“She knew the risks,” Delia told him quietly. “But she still chose to fall.”
A shadow drifted over the ground, and Sam felt the hard rush of wind around him. .
“Are you ready, Sammael?” Uriel asked, voice, low, grating. Ready for his sacrifice? But Seline had already sacrificed, and this bastard didn’t know . . .
Sam turned toward him. “I’m afraid there’s been a change in plans.”
Uriel’s eyes widened.
Sam braced his legs and got ready to attack. “I’m gonna have to tell you to fuck off now.”
Uriel backed up a step, and Sam saw the flicker of fear in his eyes. Once an angel tasted an emotion—even fear—the feeling could sneak back inside anytime.
“Actually,” Sam drawled slowly, “I think I might be gettin’ my pound of flesh back, and then tellin’ you to fuck off.”
Before Uriel could escape, Az grabbed him.
Az. His brother kept surprising him.
“Uriel . . .” Sam stalked toward him. “Before you dish out more pain, I think you might need to experience a bit of it yourself.”
Uriel snarled and fought against Az’s hold. “Delia, Delia, help me!”
She shook her head. “Sorry, but I have my orders. And you’ve made someone upstairs very angry. Punishment is coming. ”
Delia flew into the sky.
Sam slammed his fist into Uriel’s face. Bones smashed. “Punishment’s here.”
She hit the ground and pain was all that she knew. Her body ached, her throat burned from her screams, and bruises and blisters covered her naked form.
She pushed to her feet. Stared at her hands . . . broken hands she didn’t recognize. A body she didn’t recognize.
The worst pain came from her shoulders—no, her back. She tried to touch the skin, and she felt thick, hard ridges beneath her fingertips.
Tears leaked from her eyes.
She wanted to curl up. To sink back on the ground and sob.
But she stayed on her feet.
The wind brushed against her body. In the distance, she could just see the light of the sun.
Dawn.
A new day.
She began to walk toward that light. Slow steps because the rough rocks cut her bare feet and blood trickled in her wake.
She walked and wondered . . .
Who the hell am I?
And why did she feel like she had to hurry?
As if ... as if someone waited.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The crowd at Sunrise was even louder than she remembered. Seline walked slowly toward the dark red doors—the entrance. Demons were stationed at those doors, bouncers with glamour hiding their true selves.
She could see right through that glamour.
Two months ago, when she’d seen her first demon, Seline had thought she was crazy. She’d run from him, even as he shouted, “If I go back without you, Sam’s gonna kill me!”
Sam.
A name she knew . . . now. She hadn’t then, and she’d been terrified of the “Sam” who tracked her.
Seline pushed through the crowd that waited eagerly for a spot inside Sunrise, and she made her way to those red doors. The bouncers glanced her way. Their eyes widened when they saw her.
“Are you—shit, are you—” The one with the bald head and snake tattoos began.
Seline just nodded before he could finish speaking. “Is he here?”
The other bouncer yanked open the door for her. “Yes.”
She let her eyes flash to black. “Good.” All of her power was back now. Good, bad, and everything in between.
Guess they couldn’t totally kill my dark side. Maybe that fact should scare her. It didn’t.
She rather liked her dark side. Without it, she probably wouldn’t have survived the last few months.
When she strolled inside Sunrise, humans muttered behind her, not understanding why she’d gotten her free pass. Too bad for them.
Bodies filled the interior of the bar. Dancers twisted and undulated on the stage. And in cages . . . ah, the cages were new. They reminded her of... well, a night that made her ache.
Her gaze searched the club.
There. Surrounded by his demons. Sam stood near the bar, tall, strong, but his profile looked more haggard. The lines on his face appeared deeper.
Sammael.
As she watched, his fist slammed onto the bar top and the mirrored surface shattered. “I don’t want fucking excuses! I want her!”
Seline strode forward. With every step she took, her heart raced faster. So fast she thought the thing would rip out of her chest.
Then Sam looked in the mirror. He caught sight of her reflection. She saw him shake his head, as if denying what he was seeing.
She smiled. “Hello, Sam.”
He spun around. “Seline!”
Before she could take a breath, he had her in his arms. His mouth crushed onto hers and, oh, it was what she wanted, what she remembered, from those fevered dreams that wouldn’t leave her alone.
Dreams that she was sure she’d been sharing with him.
His fingers held her so tightly that Seline knew she’d bruise, but she didn’t care. She was holding him just as tightly. Won’t ever let go.
His tongue thrust into her mouth. She stood onto her toes and pressed her body against his. More, more . . . she needed him.
The dreams had started a month ago. The first one had scared her to death, and turned her on.
She’d seen a tall, dark man. His eyes had been pitch-black. He’d looked at her with such lust she’d trembled. He’d reached for her. Took her hand. Kissed her palm, then said, “I need more than dreams, Seline. Come back to me.”
Then she’d started finding her way home.
His head lifted, slowly, and she immediately missed his touch. “You’re real?” he asked, voice gruff. “Not another dream.”
“No, I’m real.” She’d rehearsed her speech a hundred times, but now she wasn’t sure what she should say to him.
Four months. It had taken her that long to find her way back to him.
What’s four months compared to a thousand years?
He kissed her again. There was so much need in his touch. A desperate hunger. Her sex moistened instantly.
“You fell,” he growled against her mouth. “Dammit, Seline, I wasn’t worth the fall. You should have let me take the pain. I was going to come to you. I would have—”
She put her fingers over his mouth. “You were worth it.” She wasn’t going to regret any choice she’d made.
He grabbed her hand and led her away from the bar. She saw Cole’s shocked expression give way to a fast grin. “Fuckin’ about time,” the demon said.
Yes, it was.
The bouncers near the private room stumbled in their haste to open the door for them. Sam pulled her inside. The door slammed closed behind them . . .
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Then he was on her. He pressed her against the wall, caged her with his hands, and his mouth took hers. Lips, tongue. Wild, consuming, the hunger burned too hot, and she could only gasp against his mouth and hold on.
His sensual power filled the room. So much desire. All for her.
“Don’t ever leave me again.” He hiked up her skirt. “Promise.”
“Try to keep me away.” Her hands were at the front of his jeans. She unhooked the snap, slid down the zipper. “Try.”
He yanked her panties away and tossed them to the ground. Then he lifted her up, positioned her, and paused only long enough to say, “I can’t be easy. Not this time. I’ve been starving for you.”
Sammael. Her Sammael. “When did I ever want easy?”
He laughed, then froze, staring at her with eyes that saw into her. “I missed you.”
That ragged confession stole her breath.
Then he was raising her hips higher, holding her with strong, warm hands, and the broad head of his cock pushed between her legs.
His gaze held hers as he thrust deep in one long, hard stroke.
Her legs wrapped around him, and she arched toward him.
She felt his control shatter. He began to thrust, to pump, in a feverish drive. Too fast and wild. No, just fast and wild enough. His mouth was on hers. His hand on her breast, his cock sliding right over the sensitive flesh of her sex. It was perfect. It was—
Hard. Deep. Rough.
She came.
The explosion of pleasure rocked through her. He kept thrusting. Again and again, and a second orgasm built within her. The air crackled around them. She pulled in the energy. Took it, used it, and sent it right back to Sam.
The second time she came, he was with her.
His orgasm pumped into her, and Seline licked his neck. Licked, then bit.
Not easy.
The thunder of his heartbeat shook her chest. She didn’t want to move. Finally, she was safe.
Just where she wanted to be.
Home.
Seline closed her eyes and listened to that fast pounding. “I missed you, too,” she whispered.
Sam stiffened. “Seline.”
Well, yeah, they’d covered that.
He stumbled back and adjusted his clothes. Seline shoved down her skirt, nervous once more now that the heat of their passion had cooled, and he was backing off. Backing off? Since when did Sam back away from sex?
The lust had always been the easy part for them. The emotions . . . those were a whole different story.
But Sam reached for her again. He held her tight, and they seemed to fall into the nearest black leather chair. “You’re sure you’re not a dream?”
She shook her head.
His breath rushed out on a relieved sigh. “I’ve got demons and shifters searching for you . . . they’re all over the world. I didn’t know where to look—I didn’t know where you’d fall.”
“Colorado,” she whispered. Good thing it had been a warm time of the year or she would have frozen her naked ass off.
He swallowed, and she saw the slow bob of his Adam’s apple. “I didn’t want you to suffer anymore.”
“And I wanted my freedom.”
He blinked and seemed surprised. Why? Didn’t he understand?
“I wasn’t free there, Sam. I couldn’t breathe. The angels didn’t seem to feel anything.” Seem. She’d caught glimpses, though, that told her things might not have been quite as they appeared.
“You are free now,” he told her, though the words were growled. “You can go wherever you want. Do what you want.”
Rogziel wasn’t after her any longer, but she had other enemies. “There are those who will always be after me.” Vengeance. Over the years, she’d made plenty of enemies who would want revenge.
“No, you don’t have to worry. They’re dead.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “What?”
“They’re dead, or they know that if they don’t want to be dead, they’ll stay away from you.” He brushed back her hair. “When you fell, I didn’t want one of them finding you first, so I made sure that word spread—you’re protected. Always.” His lips twisted. “Besides, that was the deal, right?”
The deal. She remembered another night. Same club. Different fear.
“I keep my deals,” he told her as his gaze searched hers.
Yes, she knew he did, no matter how deadly those deals were.
“You helped me to find my brother, and now, if you want your freedom, I won’t stop you.”
Seline shook her head. “Do you think I went to all the trouble of falling . . . of having my wings burned off . . . just so that I could walk away from you?”
He blinked. Then his hands smoothed up her back. Through her blouse, she could feel the light pressure of his fingertips on her scars. Pleasure whispered over her.
Oh, wow.
Seline licked her lips. “I figure you owe me, Fallen.”
His mouth kicked up in just the faintest smile, and she was sure his eyes lightened. “Seems you told me that before.”
“Well, yeah, I did. Because every time I turn around, you’re owing me.” She tried to sound cocky and assured, but Seline suspected he saw right through her act.
“I’ll give you anything.”
“That’s sure a different tune now.” She’d had to fight her way to get his agreement before.
“I’m different. You made me that way.” His fingers were still tracing her scars, and little shivers skirted over her body. “Say it, and it’s yours. Tell me what you want.”
Okay. Screw the speech she’d planned. Seline decided to just tell him what was in her heart. “I want you.” Not for a day or a few weeks. “I want to stay with you forever.”
His breath expelled in a rush. “You’ve got me.” His mouth took hers, and the desire whipped through her blood. “Sweetheart, you had me from the moment you came into my dreams and stopped the nightmares.”
Ah, what? She pulled back and frowned at him. “You—you thought I was trying to kill you then.”
“Yes.” He smiled at her. A real smile, one that made her heart feel funny.
She shook her head, still a little confused. “You thought I wanted to kill you, and you still—”
“Thought you were sexy as all sin.”
He would know about sin.
A growl rumbled at the door, and then something hit the wood—hit it hard enough to send a long crack racing along the frame.
Seline tensed. That growl, oh, crap, not again . . . She knew that deep rumble that sounded like thunder from hell.
Hell.
“He’s probably waited as long as he can,” Sam said as he lifted her off his lap.
“He?” He could not mean—
The door was shaking now, because something was hitting it very, very hard.
“Um, yes, you got yourself a male hound.” Showing no fear, Sam strolled away. “When you went back upstairs, you left me a present.”
No, she hadn’t. Not deliberately, anyway.
Sam opened the door.
A giant mass of black fur raced inside the room. The hellhound hurried toward her, growling and—jeez, was that some kind of really scary hellhound smile? The beast’s tongue—long and black—hung out, and the hound sure seemed to be grinning at her.
Seline held out her hand. The hound bent his head and rubbed against her fingers. No attack. Just . . . warmth. Welcome. “How is he still here?”
Sam smiled at her again. Oh, damn, but that man was gorgeous. “You told him to protect me. You didn’t send him back.”
No, but—
“So he’s been here, with me, waiting for you.” Sam came closer and gave the massive hellhound a scratch behind his ears. “He’s really not so bad, not once you get to know him.”
Seline stared down at the beast. He looked back up at her with his blood-red eyes.
Pain. Blood. Death.
The hound whined and butted her lightly with his
head.
“He doesn’t want you to be afraid,” Sam said quietly. “And neither do I.” He squared his shoulders. “You said you loved me.”
The hound lay down on the floor and stared up at them.
“I love you more than anything or anyone on this earth—or beyond it,” Sam told her.
Okay, that sweet-talk was exactly what she wanted to hear. Seline eased over the hound and put her arms around Sam’s shoulders. “Good . . . because that’s the same way I feel about you.”
She’d traded her wings for a life with her Fallen. Heaven, hell . . . everything in between . . . didn’t matter. Paradise was staring right back at her.
Seline laughed, finally, finally free of her past, and she grabbed hold of the future before her with both hands.
Dangerous, dark . . . yes, please. She didn’t want some kind of white knight. She wanted her lover with the wildness in his eyes and the danger at his back.
And the hellhound at his feet.
Seline kissed Sam and knew that paradise had never tasted so good.
EPILOGUE
When a woman walked into a bar with a hellhound at her side, people tended to pay attention. The smart people actually tended to run, the semi-smart folks froze, and the dumbasses kept causing trouble and picking on the innocent.
Well, they did until she let Beelzebub take a bite out of them.
Sam laughed when the hound chased a demon out of Sunrise.
Seline smiled at him. A month had passed. Her entire memory was back, now, even those parts that she would have preferred to forget.
And she was with her Fallen.
Had the pain been worth it?
Sam stalked toward her, his lips curved in that wicked grin that made her body heat.
Yes. She’d fall again, for him.
His back had scarred from the wounds delivered by Uriel. Hard, thick scars that stretched and reddened his flesh. Uriel had known just how to leave his mark.
Perhaps one day, she’d pay him back for that punishment.
Though she knew Sam had already gotten a pound of flesh from that angel. Sam always had a way of keeping sight of his enemies, even as he kept the ones he loved very close.