by Cynthia Eden
She closed her eyes.
“Nicole!” A roar that was her name.
Keenan. Her eyes flew right back open. And it was just like Carlos had said. She could see Keenan now, running toward her, snaking through the vaults. He wasn’t even checking around him for an attack—just running straight for her, his gaze locked on her.
He would have run right into Carlos and never seen the danger until the claws were at his throat.
“It’s okay,” she called out as she rose and hurried forward. “I—”
Bones snapped. Crunched. Still not hers. Not. Hers. Goose bumps rose on her arms. Nicole glanced back over her shoulder.
Carlos was shifting.
Fur sprang up over his flesh. Thick, brown fur. His hands had already turned into paws, his claws had lengthened, sharpening even more. His face contorted as she watched. Stretched. Elongated. Animal, not man.
An animal with really big teeth—and she knew all about big teeth.
I missed his heart.
Oh, damn.
He was a shifter. He didn’t need blood to heal and kick ass. He just needed to transform.
“Run,” Nicole whispered and then she whirled around to face Keenan as she shouted, “Run!”
Too late. Keenan was almost on her. He reached out to her, but then froze, his fingers inches away. She stumbled for him. “You’ve got to get—”
A coyote’s high, quavering howl broke the air.
Then that guy, Sam, he was there. Sam yanked her into his arms and pulled her away from Keenan. “Oh, what the hell?” He huffed out a hard breath. “Now the dogs are in this?”
Not a dog. A coyote. A very big, very pissed-off coyote with bloodlust burning in his glowing eyes. “It’s a trap,” she whispered. “He’s after Keenan. We can’t let him get ...”
“The sonofabitch figured it out.” Sam shoved her behind him. She caught a glimpse of the coyote. Way bigger than your average coyote. The beast lunged into the air and leapt right for Keenan.
No!
But Sam was there. Moving with his super speed, he jumped in front of Keenan.
The coyote gave a choked bark and twisted in midair. The beast landed on the top of a shallow crypt.
“Didn’t count on two of us, did you?” Keenan snarled.
Then another coyote’s wailing cry echoed in the cemetery. Another, another ...
If coyotes could smile, she knew that beast would be grinning.
Her head whipped to the right. She saw a black coyote stalking along the high stone wall. The coyote had its eyes locked on Keenan’s back.
“Keenan, watch out!”
But her scream came too late. The coyote jumped from the wall and lunged for Keenan. The beast’s mouth—wide with sharp teeth and dripping with saliva—went for Keenan’s throat.
But Keenan shoved his forearm into the coyote’s mouth. The beast stiffened. Its whole body froze and as Nicole watched, the fur began to melt away.
A rolling, mourning cry rumbled in Carlos’s throat, but he didn’t close in on Keenan. No, the coyote jumped back and fled toward the high walls.
And as for the black coyote that had attacked Keenan ... it wasn’t a coyote anymore. The fur was gone, the bones still reshaping, but now ... yes, now that was a woman.
A dead woman.
Keenan rose and stared down at her body.
The cries from the coyotes became softer. They were all leaving. Retreating.
“Running away?” Sam taunted, voice dark and strong. “Didn’t plan for that, did you, bastards? We’re not as easy to kill as you thought. You want our blood? Then you’ll die for it.”
Nicole crept closer to Keenan. He was still staring down at the woman. The wind lifted the woman’s dark hair and blew it against her golden cheeks. Her eyes were open, staring with horror, and her lips were parted as if to scream.
Keenan’s gaze shifted to his arm. Faint bite marks were already fading from his flesh.
“Keenan ...” Nicole reached for him, but he pulled away. She took that snub, right in the heart. He’d killed—because of her. And now maybe he was finally seeing just what she was.
His jaw clenched. His gaze rose slowly to meet hers. “Are you ... okay?”
She put her hands behind her back. “Fine.”
Keenan’s head moved in a jerky nod. “Coming back to New Orleans was a mistake.”
She’d tried to tell him that. Coming home again really wasn’t a good idea. No matter what the damn songs out there said.
“You need to get out of here as fast as you can,” Keenan told her, but he wasn’t looking directly at her. Just over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of the coyotes. You just ... run.”
Nicole shook her head. “No way, I’m not leaving you to—”
“I want you to go.” His gaze came back to her when he delivered that knife to her heart.
She realized he hadn’t even touched her. Hadn’t hugged her. Hadn’t pulled her against his chest. She wanted him to. Needed him to pull her close.
Instead, he was backing away.
He knows what I am now.
She glanced at the still-unconscious college goth guy. “I didn’t kill him.”
“No, but I sure killed her.”
A beautiful stranger. A woman as still as stone now.
“Who do you think came for her?” Sam asked, closing in and crouching next to the naked woman.
The coyotes had left the dead female fast enough. Deserted one of their own.
“There are so many flowers out here ...” Sam glanced at the vaults. “We never even would’ve smelled them coming.”
But she’d scented an angel earlier. She’d known Az was there.
He’s losing himself in you.
Keenan couldn’t even look at her longer than a few moments now.
“Take Nicole out of here,” Keenan said, turning his back on them. “Get her to someplace safe and just take Nicole out of here.”
The words hurt. She’d expected them to come eventually, once he realized exactly what she was, but she’d started to hope that—
He’d still see me as a woman.
Guess not. Her spine stiffened. “I’m not leaving you here alone.” The coyotes could come back. Probably would. Or what about the members of that vamp-hunter group that had been after her? Some of those bikers had gotten away. They could try to make a run at her again. Or at him.
“I want you to go.”
Now that was like a slap. She even stumbled back.
“I saved you, Nicole. We’re even now. I stood back before, but this time ...” He still wasn’t looking at her. “I saved you.”
Her hands were clenched into fists behind her back, and the healing injuries burned. “I saved myself,” she whispered. And you.
But he didn’t want to hear that. He was telling her to go, to get the hell out of his life, and fine, she wouldn’t beg.
He wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t touch her.
Guess he finally saw the monster.
She turned around and nearly ran into Sam. Her breath heaved out. The guy moved too fast. “I can find my way out on my own.”
“No.” His gaze drifted along the stone wall. “They know what you are.”
A vamp. Right. Seemed like everyone knew.
“They’ll use you against him. You can’t be separated. Not now.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes drawn right back to Keenan, and she saw him turn at Sam’s words.
Keenan clenched his jaw and gritted, “You know she can’t stay with me.”
“Control, Fallen. I keep tellin’ you ... you’ve got to have control.”
A burst of wind shoved against Nicole and Sam. “Around her, I have no control.”
Was that good or bad? Around him, she had no control, either.
Except she wasn’t telling him to hit the road.
Carlos almost killed me. I hurt. Every part of her hurt. And she just wanted Keenan’s arms around her. She wanted to feel him, str
ong, safe and alive against her.
He wanted her ass to walk away.
“Get the control,” Sam warned him, voice snapping. “Get it or—”
“Or what?” Keenan fired back. “She dies?”
Whoa. Wait. This she—
“Yes.” Soft but certain from Sam. “If you lose control, then Nicole dies.”
Well, damn.
Carlos watched the bastards leave. The asshole who’d killed his cousin bent down, brushed back her hair, then yanked off his shirt and covered her body.
Carlos’s muscles locked. He wanted that bastard’s throat between his teeth, but he knew if he got too close to the Fallen, he’d wind up like Julia.
One touch, then death.
Killing the Fallen would be harder than he’d thought. He’d have to take the guy out without ever giving him a chance to strike back.
They were outside of the cemetery now. As he watched, the three loaded into a black pickup truck. He inhaled, drawing their scents in with the blood and the death. Finding them again wouldn’t be a problem.
Killing them would.
I underestimated my prey. It wasn’t a mistake he made often, and one he wouldn’t repeat.
When the truck’s taillights disappeared down the road, he tossed back his head and howled. Another loss for his meager pack. Another body to bury.
His bones snapped, reshaped. The fur melted from his flesh, and he went to collect his dead in the form of a man. In death, Julia’s pretty features were twisted. So misshapen.
She’d been terrified of what she saw in her last moment.
He bent and picked her up and held her gently. “It’s okay now.” Julia had never feared anything. Until she died.
“They’ll pay.” The other coyotes slunk out of the darkness. “They’ll pay!” Carlos vowed. It wasn’t just about getting an angel’s blood anymore.
Vengeance. When the angel died, he’d fear, too. Fear, beg, and suffer.
Just like his precious vampire bitch would.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Why won’t you look at me?”
Nicole’s soft voice had Keenan’s head turning toward her. She stood, her body pressed against the stark white wall in Sam’s “safe” house.
No place was safe enough. Keenan knew the coyotes would come after them. Once a shifter got your scent, it was pretty impossible to shake him. Going back to the antebellum house he’d bought—for her, everything had been for her—wasn’t an option. He might as well just paint a bull’s eye on his back if he did that. There would be folks who’d come looking for vengeance on Big Mike’s killer.
Those folks would have to get in line.
“Thank you,” Nicole whispered.
He blinked, but was careful to keep his face expressionless. Sam, ever the sly one, had brought them to this place—an apartment in the Quarter. One with reinforced shutters and a perfect view of the outside. Once, the Quarter houses had been designed to keep out enemies. Shut the doors, bar them, and no one could get in from the street. The buildings were all lined next to each other—the better to keep intruding soldiers out.
The design still worked to their advantage. At least, this way they’d know when company came calling.
Nicole rubbed her arms. “So you’re looking at me now, but you’re not speaking? Fine. Okay. Fine. You didn’t have to come after me, you know. You didn’t have to—”
He stepped toward her. Her lips pressed together. He took a breath and could almost taste her. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come for you?” Of course, he would. He’d do just about anything for her.
That sexy chin lifted as her eyes glittered. “No.” Soft but certain. “I knew you’d hunt for me. What happened ...” She cleared her throat. “What happened to the leader, Mike?”
One touch. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” He turned away from her and paced out onto the balcony. Jazz music drifted up to him, and he saw the people strolling down the street. A motorcycle raced below him. “That coyote, he’s the one we have to worry about now. He wants you dead, and—”
“You’re the one he wanted.” The floor squeaked behind him. She was coming closer. Her scent reached him, wrapped around him. “Keenan ...”
“Don’t touch me.”
He heard the sharp inhalation of her breath and knew she was hurt. Better to be hurt than dead. He grabbed the railing. “You need to get away from me. Get out of New Orleans and don’t come back.”
“You’re the one who brought me back!”
“My mistake.” So foolish. But he’d wanted her back in the city because she’d been happy here. She hadn’t been happy the whole time he’d been with her in Mexico and Texas. He’d thought if she came home, he could keep her safe. Make her happy.
Make her laugh. She hadn’t laughed once in all their time together, not laughed and actually meant it.
“I can’t touch you.” Anger snapped in her words. “You barely look at me ... but you were screwing me yesterday.”
More than screwing. “Things have changed.”
“You don’t want me anymore?” Pain darkened her voice.
“Wanting isn’t an option.”
“Dammit! What the hell is with you? You never give me a simple yes or no answer to any question I ask you!”
Because he couldn’t. “Things are never simple.”
“You want me.” Certain and not so soft now.
He stared at the street below. The river was close, and the scent of the water drifted to his nose. “Lots of people in this world want what they can’t have—or what they don’t need.”
“You fight for me, then tell me to get away.” A choked laugh. Not the kind of laugh he’d wanted to hear from her. His fingers tightened on the balcony’s railing and the wrought iron groaned. “You’re giving me some seriously mixed messages, Keenan.”
“Then let me be very clear.” He took a breath. Face her. He turned slowly and looked right at her. She was pale. So very pale. Her eyes were big and dark. “I want you to get away from me, and I want you to get away now.” Truth. He’d never spoken truer words.
And she realized that. He saw the words sink in as she took a step back. Her hands came up, as if she’d cover her mouth, but she caught herself. Nicole stiffened instead. Shoved back her shoulders and dropped her hands. Bruised, bloody hands. He frowned.
But she was the one turning away now. “Watch your ass, angel. That coyote wants you, and he knows how to kill you.”
It was his turn to laugh, and his laugh was as cloaked with bitterness as hers had been. “Killing me isn’t easy.” The female shifter had learned that.
“He knows how,” she said and she didn’t stop walking. “He won’t stop until he has your blood and his Angel’s Dust.” Her hand reached for the bedroom doorknob. It looked like she’d battered that hand to pieces.
His jaw clenched and he had to ask, “What happened to you? What did he do?”
“Chained me in a crypt. Left me as bait.” She threw a fast glance over her shoulder. “For you.”
That had his brows rising.
“Angel’s Dust. He wants to use your blood because he thinks getting it will make him the big badass in the Other world.”
If Carlos could take out the level-ten demons with the Dust, he would be the badass that the Others feared.
“I told you,” she murmured, “This time, it wasn’t all about people wanting to take out the evil vamp. The coyote wanted your blood, not mine.”
Carlos had been willing to sacrifice Nicole to get what he wanted. The coyote would pay. Want blood? I’ll make sure you bleed. He pushed back the fury. Tried to. “What did he do to your hands?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “Nothing. That was all me.”
She’d done that?
“Vamps heal, you know. We heal from just about everything. Even the wounds that asshole angels give us.” She opened the door and walked away.
Keenan knew she was right. She’d get over
him. She’d get past the pain that he’d glimpsed in her eyes. She’d heal.
It was a pity he couldn’t say the same thing.
His nostrils twitched. He hadn’t just scented the river on that balcony. “Az, you bastard, I know you were watching. . . hope you’re happy now.” Because he’d lost the fight against temptation.
He’d lost everything.
Keenan stepped forward and slammed his fist into the glass of the open balcony door.
“You’re just going to walk away?”
The drawling voice stopped Nicole as she neared the bottom of the staircase. She looked up and saw Sam strolling toward her. Dressed all in black, again. Black T-shirt. Black pants and boots.
“He wants me gone,” Nicole said without flinching and kept her gaze up. “So it’s time for me to leave.” She’d survive. She’d made it for the last six months. She’d make it six more.
Screw the angels waiting.
She brushed by him and felt a little jolt of electricity zing her as her shoulder pressed against his.
“He was desperate to save you.”
Right. He’d looked desperate when she first saw him in that cemetery. Now he was just desperate to kick her butt out. Why?
Nicole forced her back to stay straight and tall as she walked. She wasn’t about to show weakness in front of Sam.
“Don’t you wonder ... how he killed that shifter?”
Yes, she did. But Keenan hadn’t exactly been the chatting type with her upstairs. “I thought ... she must have broken her neck, the angle she attacked—”
“She didn’t break her neck.”
She stopped walking.
“You didn’t think it through, did you? But then, I’m guessing you’re still so thirsty for blood that you can’t think very much at all right now, can you?”
She was thinking he was an ass. How was that for thinking?
Nicole took another step toward the door and freedom.
He was there, of course. Instantly blocking her path.
“How do you do that?” she asked, rubbing a tired hand over her neck. “Nobody is supposed to move like that.”
“Different angels have different strengths.” His gaze tracked down her body. “And different weaknesses.” He caught her right wrist. She expected pain, a rough touch, but his hold was light. Almost ... gentle.