Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) (13 page)

She gazed at her reflection above the quadruple vanity.

Holy hell
. She looked like she’d stepped out of a men’s magazine. Her careful curls had straightened in the heated air and now fell in heavy waves around her shoulders. She turned to the side. The waves continued in all its voluminous glory down her back.

Her crimson dress clung to her midsection, drawing attention to her flat stomach and thin waist. The deep V-neckline plummeted down the front, making her breasts appear fuller than she’d ever seen. She grinned.

No wonder Jarrid remained speechless.

She reached an open basin and dipped paper towels into the cool water. She patted away the light sheen of oil on her forehead and nose, careful not to smear her makeup. She’d forgotten her small makeup case in her coat pocket.

By her count, the night went well. She was inside the hippest club in Michigan with her gorgeous virgin date. Laughter bubbled to her lips.

God, I’m trying to seduce an angel
. Correction.
I’m seducing a virgin nephilim
.

After one more peek at her reflection, she exited the restroom.

Ionie walked into a vampire blocking the narrow hallway. “Ompf.” She pressed her hands against his broad chest. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay?”

Cold, red eyes seized on her, making her shudder.

“You may walk into me any time you wish, beauty.”

She managed a weak smile and lowered her hands. “Thanks. I’ll be more careful.”

The man smiled back, showing his fangs. “At least tell me your name.”

“Madeline,” Ionie said. Something was off about the way the vamp crowded her. She took a step to the side, allowing him room to pass. He didn’t move.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said. “I’m Saul.”

He offered his hand. Ionie hesitated. She wasn’t a rude person, but her warning bells clanged so loud she was certain he could hear them.

A woman nudged her from behind, forcing her to step closer to vamp so she could pass. Ionie heard his deep intake of breath.

Is he sniffing me?

• • •

Saul inhaled the female’s scent deep into his lungs.

No mistake.
She had Grace in her blood. Faint, but Beleth warned it would be. He couldn’t tell if the angelic marker meant she was
the
one the Renegade sought. Only Beleth would know.

Now what
?

He studied her. She wore no ring.
Not married
.

She was inside The Church.

Arrived with or picked up by an Other.

He wasn’t interested in fighting the overgrown bastard for snagging his date. Saul rubbed his chin and listened to her racing heartbeat.

You should fear me
.

“I saw you dancing,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “You’ve got some moves.”

The woman — Madeline — narrowed her eyes. “You followed me?”

“Busted.” He gave her a mock bow.

“I’m here with my boyfriend. He won’t be happy to find us talking like this.”

Saul quirked a brow. “Would he be impolite?”

“Wh-what?”

He stepped closer, enjoying the aroma of fear emanating from her. “I asked if your lover would be rude. I abhor rudeness.” He flicked his tongue against a fang. “It makes me react in unpredictable ways.”

Her eyes widened in alarm before she buried it. Damn, her agitation made him light-headed with blood lust. A split-second image surfaced of the last woman he’d brought Beleth. He should have used the woman before the Renegade toasted her.

What about this hottie?

He squared his jaw. She’d meet a fatal end and he’d be too weak to kick Beleth’s ass when the prick decided to end him.

Decision made, Saul closed in. He pressed his hand against ‘Madeline’s’ mouth, smothering her shocked cry.

“Your jugular has my name on it,” he said, a whisper against the woman’s ear. “I’ll sample you, then hand you over. My partner will be so pleased he’ll ignore my little nibble and reward me.”

‘Madeline’ struggled, thrashing in his hold. He pressed his body forward, trapping her against the wall. When the restroom door opened again, he removed his hand and covered her lips with his.

“Get a fucking room,” a woman said, stomping off.

Saul felt the hard line of his prey’s full lips resisting him. Her distress was a drug now, and he wanted more. He tried to pry her lips apart with his tongue. She fastened her lips tighter, muffling cries or curses. He didn’t know which and didn’t give a damn.

He wanted to drink her. He’d end up fucking her, too, if she kept fighting him. Blood and sex were a matched set in a vampire’s mind. Ideas buzzed to the foreground. He could slake his desires on the human after days of frustration. He’d tell Beleth he didn’t scent her until after the sex was over.
No big whoop.
The Renegade planned to kill her anyway.

Saul’s palm grazed her thigh, hiking her short dress higher. He stood between her legs and when his engorged dick brushed her stomach, he released a deep moan. His vision swam from the need to bury himself inside her body.

“Please, keep resisting,” he said. “You’re giving me so many naughty ideas.”

Fuck you, Beleth!
He needed release and this woman was his for the taking. He gazed down the hallway. The exit sign was a beacon. He yanked the woman close and dragged her toward the door.

• • •

Ionie’s dance, her teasing fingers skimming his arms and shoulder, had seared Jarrid’s bones. His mutinous body had responded, waking to her, wanting nothing but her all over his skin.

How would she feel in my arms?

He leaned back in his chair and watched the dance floor. He imagined pressing his naked body against Ionie’s. He’d tuck her smaller frame under him as he …
did what
?

“I’d let the Act of Contrition fuck me up for a month to read your mind right now,” Cain said, approaching from behind.

Jarrid noted the odd expression on his brother’s face. Cain had watched him and Ionie. The assassin was good at seeing things.
Too good.
Jarrid shrugged, determined to bluff his ass off.

“I could fuck you up for a month so you wouldn’t miss anything.”

Cain laughed, hard. “In the state you’re in, I’ll pass.”

The dance floor remained a mass of flesh, pulsing and heaving like a sex organ. Jarrid groaned. If he didn’t release his own throbbing soon, he’d explode. He lowered his hand and adjusted himself. The brief contact made light burst behind his eyes.
God of All!

“Even educated fleas do it.”

Cain, always helpful
.

“Report,” Jarrid said.

Cain grinned. “Kas and Tanis haven’t picked up any traces, but I came to tell you about a creepy encounter Ionie’s belongings had with a vamp.”

Jarrid’s head snapped up.

“While you were living
Dancing with the Stars
, a bloodsucker took an interest in her coat,” Cain said. “He sniffed it, went bleary eyed, then dropped it, and disappeared. I couldn’t get down the stairs fast enough because the damn thing was wall-to-wall people.”

“Where’d he go?” Jarrid stood. He scanned the crowd. He located Ionie’s coat on the floor.

He jogged over and picked it up, slipping his hands into the deep pockets. Inside, he found a makeup bag and a driver’s license.

“How long does it take a human to piss?” Cain asked. Jarrid heard the concern in his brother’s voice.

Ionie hadn’t returned from the restroom.

The two moved in sync for the back of the club. Jarrid pushed open the Ladies restroom door, eliciting shrieks from those inside. None were Ionie.

Where the hell was she?

He turned from the restroom, his head pounding. She wouldn’t leave the club without him.

Oh, God!

Cain’s vamp sighting took on an ominous cast. The Renegade employed bloodsuckers.
Had one been in the club?
Jarrid followed his brother’s gaze down the hallway to the exit. The two ran the length of the hall, unholstering their guns as they kicked the door off its hinges.

Cold air blasted Jarrid in the face, rage tearing a hole in his chest.

Ionie’s head lolled against a man’s shoulder, her sleek arms limp at her sides. The bastard nuzzled her neck, sucking on her while the vampire’s hand pistoned his erection in time to his draws.

Jarrid roared his fury to the night sky. The sound, like a hundred enraged lions, shattered the windows of the adjoining building. Glass rained down, but he didn’t notice the shards slicing into his skin. He only saw a soon-to-be-shredded bloodsucker.

He launched himself at the vampire. Cain flew to Ionie’s unconscious body.

His fist connected with the side of the vampire’s face, hurling the fiend several feet. The body crashed into a steel dumpster, denting it on impact.

A bloodsucker dared touch what is mine!

His Grace stirred. He stalked toward the vampire. Energy soared into his hands, his power straining under his skin.

“Jarrid!” Cain’s strangled voice came from somewhere behind him. “I’m losing her!”

Awareness hit him like a bullet. Jarrid spun away from the bloodsucker and stared at his brother. Cain’s tanned hands were stained with blood. His palm covered a gash on Ionie’s neck, but her blood trickled out in rivulets. He was kneeling beside her an instant later.

“Jugular’s severed,” Cain said. “The bastard ripped her wide open.”

Jarrid’s gut became a chasm filled with fear. He swore he’d protect her, yet Ionie ended up on a vampire’s food platter. Bile rose in his throat.

I failed her
.

Cain looked up from his grisly task and gasped. “God of All! You’re juiced!”

Jarrid didn’t give a shit. He drew Ionie into his arms, mindful of his brother’s grip on her neck. He placed his hand over Cain’s and gave a squeeze. His brother understood. Cain moved his hand and Jarrid covered the wound with his palm. With a silent prayer to the Creator, he released his ramped up power.

Grace poured into his hands, cauterizing the gash on Ionie’s neck with glowing light. Jarrid closed his eyes, concentrating on the icy pulse of his power. He’d never used it to save a life. If he didn’t take care, he feared he’d do unspeakable harm to the woman in his arms.

Sparks of energy danced under his skin and he focused on fixing the damage. He pictured the smooth line of Ionie’s neck, the mocha perfection of her skin, and adjusted the flow of Grace, willing it to heal her.

“Holy shit.” Cain stayed beside him. Jarrid wasn’t surprised. Ionie meant more to The Order than any of them would admit. This human female, an enigma among a troupe of forsaken half-breeds, had slipped past their guard and burrowed her way into their hearts.

“You will not die, Ionie Gifford,” Jarrid said, the vow a prayer.

Her body twitched. He held her neck against his palm, his power pulsing light down his arm and into her.

“Jarrid?” Cain said.

He opened his eyes to answer, but Ionie shuddered, her body thrashing against him. Jarrid slammed an invisible wall between her and his Grace. He pulled his sweating palm away from her neck and released a pent up breath.

The skin was unmarred. There was no trace of the vampire’s bite.

The vampire
. Jarrid’s head snapped up as he looked at the dented garbage container. The bloodsucker was gone.

“Should we take her to a human hospital?” Cain asked.

He shook his head. “She returns with us to the Stronghold.”

Ionie groaned, blinked. Jarrid felt a wave of relief as her eyes widened.

“Shit, man, your eyes,” Cain said.

“What?”

“Juiced.” Cain flashed him an annoyed frown.

Damn
. His eyes must be glowing in the dark. He lowered his head, intent on concealing his freakish orbs from her. She raised a trembling hand to his face, her eyes filled with wonder.

“Beautiful,” she said before she fainted again.

Saul knew he’d screwed up. He cursed under his breath, clutched his aching midsection, and limped from the alley behind The Church. The bitch had serious friends. His head pounded, and he shuffled across the dark street.

Have to tell Beleth
.

Her rescuers had to be the Eternal Order.
Jesus H. Christ, I thought those assholes were myth
. He touched his jaw and winced.

Broken. Fantastic
.

Saul scanned the surrounding street. He needed fresh blood to ramp up his regeneration. Then he’d contact Beleth. No way he’d deal with the fallout in his present state.
Godforsaken half-breeds
. How had the woman met them? What was the connection?

The night wasn’t a complete cluster bomb. Saul now had a name. The guy who had attacked him said the name before Saul slipped away.
Ionie Gifford, not Madeline
.

He felt bone fragments shift in his jaw. She must have sensed something off when they met.
Careless. Stupid
. He’d let his hunger distract him — bad mistake for a vampire. He always forgot himself when the thirst hit. Ionie’s blood had smelled delicious, a sweet treat in a sexy red dress.

Saul stumbled to a stop.

Was she dead?
A flare of panic seized him. He glanced over his shoulder and rubbed his face.
Can’t be dead
. The half-breed had used some kind of energy. Saul shuddered, remembering the eerie glow emanating from the guy’s hands.

Grace? Impossible
.

Nephilim were only half-angels.

Fuck!
He hadn’t paid close attention. Another mistake Beleth wouldn’t forgive.

Near the street corner, Saul flipped up his coat collar. He’d jacked off feeding on a friend of The Order. Big and fast as they were, he wasn’t sure he’d spot one of the assassins gunning for him before it was too late. Another shard of pain spiked his jaw. His steps faltered.

Christ
.

He’d parked his BMW at the club. No way he was heading back for a goddamned car.

Saul palmed his phone and dialed.

“Good timing,” a voice said on the other end. “We were about to meet up at the club to report.”