by Cynthia Eden
But then Pete shifted his stance and Keenan saw the prey that he was actually seeking. Pete was simply a means to an end. A wannabe without the hard-core spirit.
Buzz-cut Bo was the real threat—and the man was currently heading for the voodoo shop on the right corner. Doubtful that the guy was going inside just for protection. More likely, he was heading in there to get some magic that he thought might work on a vamp.
Vengeance.
Keenan lunged forward. The crowd seemed to pass him in a blur. He made sure not to touch anyone. He didn’t want an innocent’s death on his hands. Don’t want to kill. Don’t want to kill. Just in case Sam wasn’t bullshitting, he kept that little mantra running through his head. And he didn’t want to kill Pete, but Bo ... that was a different story.
He’d seen Bo before. Seen him at death scenes in the past. Bo liked to hurt his victims, vamps and humans. If anyone deserved getting put out of his misery, it would be Bo.
Keenan’s hand reached out. His fingers stretched. Bo spun around, finally seeming to sense the threat.
Pete let out a high-pitched yell.
But then someone blocked his prey. Someone with pale skin and midnight-black hair. The last person he’d expected to find on his hunt.
And Nicole was blocking his prey.
“I don’t know what you’re doing,” she whispered as he froze. “But attacking humans ... this isn’t you.”
It was now.
“Get away from them, Nicole.” Maybe she didn’t realize just who it was that she was protecting. She’d been on the ground, burning, so she might not have seen their faces so well. “They’re the ones who tried to kill you.”
“I’m not worried about them.” Her chin lifted. “I only care about you.”
His hand was still up and just inches from her face.
Sam cursed. The wind rushed against Keenan, and Sam vanished. Figured.
Behind Nicole, Bo bent down, grabbed at his boot—and came back up with his fingers clenched around a wooden stake.
“You should be worried, bitch!” Bo screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. “I been waitin’ a long time to kill you!”
Nicole spun toward him, but Bo was already plunging that stake down, and when she turned, it gave him perfect aim at her heart.
Death.
Here. Now.
Keenan leapt forward and shoved Nicole out of the way, and his hand caught the stake and Bo’s hand. He caught them—then he crushed both the wood and the hand.
Bo screamed, the cry high and pain-filled, but the shriek ended mid-breath as Bo collapsed.
Dead.
“Keenan ...”
His head whipped to the right. Nicole was on the ground, pushing to her feet. She was still too pale and weaving just a little. Probably because she hadn’t taken a drink before tracking after him.
“You touched me,” she told him and he wondered if she hadn’t just set him up, with herself as bait. “You touched me.”
“I had to.” If he hadn’t, she would have died. No choice.
Her gaze held his. I didn’t kill her. He wanted to pull her close. But ...
She pulled him close instead. Around them, the crowd continued, not even noticing the dead man. Or maybe not caring.
“You’re touching me, and I’m not dying,” she seemed to breathe the words.
Thudding footsteps raced away. He glanced up in time to see Pete fleeing. Smart man.
Nicole’s fingers dug into his arms. “Sam was telling the truth.”
Just not all of it.
“It’s about what you want,” she said, her eyes searching his. “And no matter what Az may say, you don’t want to kill me.”
His forehead pressed against hers. “No.” He’d kill to protect her, had, and would again. But kill her?
Not his plan. Not now, not damn well ever. “If you’d been wrong ... if Sam had been wrong ...”
“According to the angels, I’m on borrowed time.” Her voice was flat. “Besides, I figured it was time I started trusting someone.”
A surprised rasp of a laugh escaped Keenan at that as he pulled her away from Bo’s body. Pretty soon, someone would notice the guy wasn’t just passed out from booze. “You decided to trust?” He led her into the thin alleyway between the buildings. The noise immediately dimmed. “And you figured you’d start by trusting Sam?”
“No.” Her fingers were curled around his. Holding tight. “You’re the one I trust.”
He stopped and turned slowly to face her. “Are you sure about that?”
“You could have your old life back, could have had it for a while now.” Her head tilted as she studied him. “But the way I see it, you want something else more.”
You. He’d never tried to hide his desire, not even when he pushed her away.
“You’re not facing the coyotes alone.” Her hands lifted and pressed against his chest. “You’re not facing Az alone. From now on, we’re a package deal, got it?”
He wanted to get it. His body was hot, heavy, aching for her. He wanted her there, against the broken brick wall. Wanted her any place he could get her because time wasn’t on their side. “And if you die?”
Her lips curved the faintest bit. “Haven’t you noticed yet? I’m a little hard to kill.”
He kissed her. Had to. He didn’t crush his lips down on hers like he craved. He just caressed with his mouth and his tongue and he tasted her.
She moaned into his mouth, a breathy, hungry little sound that made him want her all the more.
But not there. Not with the stench of the alley around them. Not with onlookers so close. This time, it would be right.
He caught her hand once more. “Come with me.” They’d go back to Sam’s. He’d strip her and taste her and savor the time they had left.
Because he knew ... that time wouldn’t last long.
But I won’t kill her. His darkest fear and the reason he’d tried to force her away. One touch ... but for her, his touch only brought pleasure. He’d make sure that pleasure was all she ever knew from him.
For the others who came after her ... he’d make sure they would only know pain.
Az stared down at the still body of Bobby “Bo” Reynolds. Reynolds hadn’t been a particularly nice or remarkable human. Sure, he’d had a few good moments, but Bo had let bitterness lead him to vicious acts.
Now, he was just dead.
Az had been the one to shuttle Bo’s soul. He’d seen Bo’s last moments. Az had known that Bo would try to go out fighting, and he had.
Az turned away from the body. Just a shell now. Keenan was already gone with his vampire—running away from the scene of his crime without looking back once. No remorse. No guilt. Killing was becoming easier for him.
Keenan was changing. Adapting. Evolving?
Soon there would be no stopping him.
Az wouldn’t be able to ignore Keenan’s threat much longer. If he did, Az knew it could prove to be a fatal mistake.
So he flew away from the crowd. He let his wings brush through the air in powerful arcs as he sought the ones who would aid him. The coyotes were done mourning their dead. And at least they’d mourned—some Other didn’t care about those who passed.
He landed near the coyotes and touched ground close to the alpha. The alpha—Carlos was his name—tensed as his nostrils flared. The coyotes wouldn’t be able to see him, but with their enhanced sense of smell, he knew they might pick up on his presence.
He was counting on their enhanced senses to help him. Because projecting his voice and energy for too long would be a dangerous drain on his strength.
“Find Sam.” To him, his voice boomed, but to the coyotes, it was probably little more than a whisper.
Carlos tensed, then spun around in the next breath. His gaze swept the clearing.
Helping fate could be a real pain. “Find ... Sammael.” He used all of his energy to blast at Carlos.
“Sammael,” Carlos repeated, voice soft and subdued.
&
nbsp; “He’ll take you ... to the Fallen.” Projecting out of his realm was nearly impossible. But, at least he was dealing with a shifter. Humans hardly ever heard the whispers, well, roars of angels.
With his strength dwindling, he left the shifter and hoped that Carlos would be successful in his hunt.
It grated that he had to leave his fate in the hands of a cold-blooded killer.
But sometimes, you couldn’t really choose your allies ... or your enemies. You just had to be ready to fight, to kill, or to die.
He was ready.
Was Keenan?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sam’s place was as quiet as a tomb. The lights were off, the silence thick and deep. As soon as he walked inside, Keenan knew they were alone.
He’d taken five steps up the stairs when Nicole caught his hand. “Keenan ... wait.”
Her voice was weak, breathless. They’d run back through the city, moving so fast humans wouldn’t remember them.
“I need ...” Her husky voice had his body tensing. He knew what she needed. He turned, took her into his arms, and pressed her up against the stair railing.
“Drink from me,” he whispered as he urged her head closer to his neck.
Her lips pressed against his skin. Her mouth trembled and then he felt the slight sting of her teeth.
At her bite, the whisper of pain disappeared and pleasure pumped through his body. Had she really been close to biting Sam earlier?
A growl built in his throat as his hands tightened on her.
But then he froze. Ice poured through his veins, and he pushed her away.
“Keenan?” Her tongue swiped out and licked away the drops of blood on her lips. “Wh-what’s wrong? Was I taking too much?”
His hands clenched. “I ...” He took a breath and tried to fight down the rage that had risen within him. “I was afraid I’d hurt you.” A careless touch. An angry thought. Was it that simple? What if he crossed the line? Control.
One weak moment ... could he hurt her so easily?
“You didn’t hurt me,” she told him. “We’ve been over this, remember? You have to want to kill.”
“Right then,” he admitted with total honesty, “I did.”
Her eyes widened. “Me? You wanted to—”
“Sam,” he bit out the name. “You had your teeth on his throat.” The words rumbled from him. “You were going to drink from him.”
Just drink. Not fuck. Why should he be jealous over a blood exchange?
He shouldn’t be, yet he was.
“I wasn’t.” Her voice was soft and still managed to stroke right over his flesh like a caress.
His brows rose. He forced his fingers to unclench. “I saw you. You were at his throat.”
“But I wasn’t going to drink.” Nicole shook her head. “I really wasn’t that hard up. I’m not going to make your friends into meals.” She shrugged. “He was playing some kind of game, and I wanted to figure out why.”
“Sam’s always playing games.”
“He wanted you angry. Jealous.”
“Then he’d be real thrilled right now.” He could almost see the guy’s smirk.
“He told me the trick was control, Keenan. You have to keep your control.”
One slip, yes, he knew what would happen. What he didn’t understand was ... “You know what I can do, so why do you still want to be with me?”
She smiled at him and the sight almost broke his heart. “You know what I’ve done, so why do you still want to be with me?”
“Because I’ve wanted you ...” Before he’d even really understood what wanting was. He cleared his throat. “Because I want you, everything that you are.”
“And that’s the way I feel about you.” Her fingers slid down his chest. “I just want you.”
“What if ...”
She stopped him by leaning forward and kissing his lips. A soft kiss. Gentle. Neither of them had seen a lot of gentleness lately. “I trust you,” she breathed the words against his mouth.
Her trust was precious, he knew that. It was also dangerous.
“I heal faster ...” She eased back and glanced at her hands. There was no sign of bruises anymore. “When I drink your blood.”
Angel blood was potent. The most magical to some—and the most deadly to others. Vamps would see a burst in healing from angel blood, while demons who ingested his blood—they’d die.
The Fallen blood had once given rise to the demons, but over time, that blood had diluted. The drugs the demons so often ingested had changed their bodies—time and mutation had done the rest. Now, if the demons took a hit of undiluted angel blood—they didn’t get a healing rush. They only got death.
“When I drink your blood ...” Her eyes tracked to just over his shoulder. Her hand lifted, slid down his back, and her fingers seemed to stroke the air. No, she was stroking his wings. “I see things,” she said.
A shudder worked down his body. He felt her touch on wings he no longer had. What the—
Her eyes came back to him. “You’re beautiful, Keenan.”
“Men aren’t beautiful.” If he didn’t have her soon, he’d erupt. “Men aren’t—”
“You’re a lot more than a man.” She turned away and headed up the stairs, her hips rolling and making him want to touch and take. “So much more.” Nicole tossed a teasing glance back over his shoulder. “So come prove it to me.”
Then she laughed, actually laughed, as she ran up the stairs.
Right then, the truth hit him. He knew exactly why he’d fallen, and he knew that if the choice came again, he’d face the fire once more.
For her.
He’d kill and he’d burn for his temptation.
Sam didn’t really know why he’d searched for the woman, but the dancer—Seline—had caught his eye that fiery night at Temptation, and since then she’d kept slipping into his dreams.
Normally, he only dreamed of fire and screams. But lately, he’d begun to dream of a woman who stripped ... and stared at him with ice-cold eyes.
Finding her wasn’t very difficult. Most of the girls from Temptation had just bounced right over to Sunrise, another of his clubs, this one in a less desirable part of town. He went in and wondered if he’d find Seline on stage.
She wasn’t on stage—she was waiting tables, and dressed in a slim black, very, very short dress that made him want to lick her.
He picked a table in her area, then waited.
When she came toward him, he saw her hesitate. Her eyes widened a little. He knew fear when he saw it, but she kept heading toward him. Interesting. He lifted a twenty. “I’ll take a beer.”
She swiped the money and turned away.
He caught her wrist.
“You’re not supposed to touch,” she said, voice tense.
He kept touching. He stared at her skin—soft, silken skin—then let his gaze rise. Yes, it was still there. A sensual appeal that lapped at the senses and wouldn’t be denied. Even now, other eyes were on her, other men were waiting and watching. Sam nodded and let his touch linger a little longer before he freed her.
She stepped back and turned for the bar.
“I’d lay odds you’re a demon,” he said quietly.
The drink tray fell from her right hand. When she whirled around to stare at him with wide eyes, he smiled. “What? No one figured it out before?”
She shook her head and glanced around the club. “You ... you shouldn’t be here.”
“Where else should I be?” His gaze dipped to her very long legs. “Besides, I like the view.”
Seline marched forward and curled her fingers around his chin. Delicate fingers forced his chin up as her eyes locked on his. “Someone’s hunting you.”
Sweet. She cared enough to warn him.
“I’m telling you ...” She glanced over her shoulder. “Because I’ve heard you pay your debts.”
Not really, but he wanted her to keep talking so he kept his mouth shut.
“Tina ... she
talked to some guy after the fire—”
Tina? He vaguely remembered a blonde with big breasts who’d been semi-skilled at pole dancing.
“She told him about you, about that woman who was with you in the back at Temptation.”
Ah, Seline was helping him now. Perhaps he would owe her for the information. “What did this man look like?”
“Six foot two, two hundred pounds, black hair, black eyes, with a Mexican accent.” She bent and scooped up her tray. “And if I’m not mistaken, he’s a shifter. He smelled like an animal, no mistaking that shifter scent.”
Seline was just full of surprises. “Your memory’s good.”
Her lips tightened. “It should be. He was in here not thirty minutes ago.”
His good humor vanished.
“I told Tina not to leave with him, but she wouldn’t listen to me.” Her knuckles whitened around the tray. “I didn’t like the way he looked. I—I’m worried that Tina might not be coming back.”
Possible. It was also possible that Tina had spilled every bit of information that she had on him. Tina wouldn’t know much though, she’d only seen him at the club, she wouldn’t—
“Tina’s been sleeping with Ron.”
Shit. He’d warned the demon to watch his guard with the girls, but Ron had a serious weakness for big breasts. And the demon had no power to speak of. Almost as helpless as a human.
Seline nodded. “Your right-hand guy, isn’t he? If that shifter wants to know where you hang your dirty laundry, I’m guessing Ron can tell him.”
Sam lunged out of the chair and towered over her. “If you see that shifter again, stay the hell away from him.”
She laughed at that. “Do I look stupid?”
“You look like walking sex.”
She blushed. Blushed. A stripper wasn’t supposed to blush. Especially a demon stripper.
He turned away. There’d be time later to solve her puzzle.
“You owe me, Sam!” She called after him.
He didn’t stop. Whatever payment she wanted, he’d give her. After all, how much could it be?
But now, he needed to find Ron, and he had to make sure that demon didn’t talk.
Keenan raced after Nicole, stripping the shirt from his body. He went into the darkened room and found her waiting. Nicole knelt on the bed and she was already naked. Yes. He tossed his shirt onto the floor and finished stripping before her.