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Authors: Cynthia Eden

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

Angel of Darkness (24 page)

BOOK: Angel of Darkness
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She dropped the shirt. Her fingers lifted to wrap around his shoulders and hang on tight. The future wouldn’t,
couldn’t
matter. Now was all that mattered. Making a memory, having something to take with her when she went to the next life.
Hell.
Her mouth opened wider.
Then she heard the snarl and roar of engines. Motorcycle engines. Not too near. Not outside, not just yet.
But coming closer.
She held the kiss for a moment longer.
Why hadn’t he just stayed away? I gave him a chance.
Vengeance.
Keenan lifted his mouth. “Nicole.” He breathed her name.
“Mike is coming for me.” She hadn’t wanted to kill.
“You knew he would.”
She just hadn’t expected him to find her so quickly. But a hunter like Mike would have connections, and probably eyes everywhere. “He’s coming while I’m weak.” She pressed her forehead against Keenan’s shoulder. His arms were around her and even though death was coming, she felt safe right there.
“He won’t touch you.”
Because she had, what, eight days left? Seven? Less? Az hadn’t actually said she had ten ...
less than ten.
Angels might not lie, but she had the feeling they might not always tell the full truth, either. Angel semantics.
“I killed his brother.” Because Grim had thought Jeff was too much of a threat. The hunter had already taken out a dozen vamps. She’d been the bait to take down the big gun. “If I were him, I’d come after me, too.” But she didn’t want to kill Mike. Stop him from killing her, yes, but kill him?
I already have enough blood on my hands. Killing him won’t get me any forgiveness.
Like there was a chance of that happening.
Mike wasn’t coming alone. She heard the growls from the other bikes.
“They can’t beat us both,” Keenan said.
No. The humans would lose. They’d die. Because even though she was weak, Keenan wasn’t.
But it wasn’t his fight.
“They’re not hurting you,” he told her and edged away.
She bent and grabbed her shirt, yanking it on as he pulled up a pair of jeans. “I wanted him to walk away.”
He laughed at that. “And you really think you’re so different from the woman you were before the bite?” His blond head shook. “Sweet, a cold-blooded killer wouldn’t care, human or no.” He turned away. “I’ll take care of them.”
“What? No, you’re an angel, your job is—”
“Death.” He yanked open the door. “The last time I hesitated, an innocent woman became a vampire.” He glanced back at her. “I won’t make the same mistake.”
Then he was gone—racing out to face the vampire hunters who didn’t want his blood.
Mine.
She ran after him because Nicole had learned—the hard way—how to fight her own battles.
If she had to do it, she’d kill Mike because he wasn’t sending her to hell.
Though it looked like she’d have to send him there.
C
HAPTER
T
WELVE
 
“S
till got your guard dog, bitch?” Mike shouted the minute he saw Nicole step onto the wooden porch.
Keenan locked his back teeth. The human had been given every chance, but still he sought death.
Humans
. Didn’t they understand it really was all about free will?
Mike could have walked away ...
Instead of coming straight for death.
“You gonna hide behind him again this time?” Mike stalked closer, and then his left hand came up—a hand holding a gun. “Do it. Cause I want to see just how strong that bastard is.”
Keenan rolled his shoulders but Nicole jumped in front of him. “My fight,” she whispered to him, then she raised her voice and called out to Mike, “This is your last chance. I don’t want to kill you—”
“I want to kill you, bitch! I want to slice your throat open, rip out your heart, cut the skin right off—”
“
I don’t want to,
” she yelled over his threats. “But I will.” Absolute certainty. Then, voice dropping, turning mean and cold, she said, “Just like I killed your brother.”
The five men on the bikes behind Mike didn’t move. Mike’s face hardened, twisting with hate.
“This time, I’m the one who’s ready.” Mike aimed the gun at Nicole. “Ready to die, vamp?”
“You mean
again?
” Nicole asked.
Keenan knew that even during the day, bullets wouldn’t kill her.
She stalked toward Mike, the thud of her footsteps seeming to echo as she headed down the front stoop. “No, I’m not particularly ready to—”
He shot her.
She’d dodged to the side, so the bullet missed her chest, but Keenan heard it thud as the bullet went into her shoulder. She trembled a bit and slid back a step. But then she shook her head. “Try again.”
Keenan’s admiration for her kicked up a notch.
She glanced back and her gaze met Keenan’s for an instant. “Stay back ... my fight.”
The others didn’t get off their bikes. Didn’t make a move for their weapons. Maybe they were just there to watch the show.
He’d be sure to give them a real fine show.
Her blood was dripping on the ground.
Did she really think he was just going to stand back and watch?
His fingers began to shake, so he balled them into fists. The wind kicked up and blew against his face.
“You’re weak!” Mike snarled, that gun still up. “Can’t take much more of this before you go down.” He fired again. Missed her. Aimed. Fired.
Hit.
This one grazed her arm. Slowed her a bit. More blood flowed. She was halfway to her target.
Mike smiled. “
Now!
”
Then his buddies stopped watching. Their hands dove into their satchels, and they all came up with bottles.
“Burn the bitch!” Mike ordered.
They started throwing the bottles right at Nicole. She swatted them away. More bottles flew, some with burning rags in them.
No!
Not just her fight—
theirs.
Keenan flew off the porch. He grabbed her in his arms and turned so that when the Molotov cocktails hit, they crashed into his back. The bottles rained down and a fire sprang at their feet.
Nicole screamed, and he saw the fire eating at her shirt.
The hunters
had
been prepared this time.
“Special brew, bitch! Somethin’ I picked up from a voodoo shop down here! Somethin’ to burn a vamp right to ash!”
Keenan held her tight and raced forward, shoving through the fire that circled them. Once they made it past that line of flames, they crashed onto the ground. The fire was on him, eating at his flesh, but he barely felt the pain.
Not like when I fell.
Nothing would be like that fire.
He rolled Nicole and slapped at the flames on her clothes. She was crying, thick tears rolling down her cheeks. Angry red blisters were all over her.
But his skin was already healing.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, the rage making his voice lethal. “I’ve got them.”
He’d always known some humans deserved death. Deserved to scream and beg for mercy.
He wouldn’t give mercy this time.
He kissed her cheek. Tasted her tears. The scent of blood and fire filled his nose.
“Nicole?” Fear had his gut clenching.
But she nodded. “I-I’m ... okay.” Bleeding, bloody, burning, but alive.
Until the next attack. With Az breathing down her neck, she wouldn’t survive many more hunter attacks.
And the bastards were
laughing
as she bled and ached.
“I’ll kill them for you.” A simple promise. Right, wrong. It didn’t matter anymore. He brushed a shaking fingertip over her cheek. “
I’ll kill them.
” He was on his feet. He ran toward Mike and the bastards with him.
Mike and his men were already on their bikes, revving their engines. Trying to get away.
Mike’s motorcycle flew away in a hail of gravel. Two others followed him.
No, they wouldn’t get away.
Keenan lunged forward and caught one bastard around the neck and yanked him off the bike. The man’s head—minus helmet—slammed into the ground.
Keenan jumped on the bike. He locked his hands around the handlebars and leaned in low as the motorcycle leapt forward.
You’re not escaping.
He’d hunt the bastards down. He’d take them out.
Nicole
would
be safe.
The roar of his rage was the only sound he heard.
Death.
 
“
Keenan, no!
” Nicole was on her feet, her arm throbbing, her side aching, her clothes—
still smoking
—and she shouted as loud as she could.
But Keenan didn’t stop.
She knew he wouldn’t, not until ...
I’ll kill them for you.
Was this really what she’d done? Turned an angel into an assassin?
Her breath hissed out at the pain as she hurried to the man on the ground. She needed blood. She’d have to take his. Donating was the least the guy could do for her—he’d tried to burn her alive.
She dropped to her knees, reached for him, and realized, too late, that he was dead.
His horror-filled eyes stared up at her. His mouth was wide open while his face was frozen in a mask of pain and terror.
Her hands ran over him. No broken neck. No broken bones at all. No wounds, no blood, nothing.
But still very, very dead.
As she stared at him, trying to understand what had happened, a new scent teased her nose. Wild, musky, like an animal.
“You really are just a baby to this game, aren’t you?” A male voice asked, one with a hint of Mexico purring beneath the words.
“Querida,
you don’t even know what I am, do you?”
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head to the right. A man walked from the woods. His shoulders were pushed back, his pace slow and steady, and a wide grin stretched across his handsome face.
Dark hair. Dark eyes. Square jaw. Cruel lips.
A face she’d seen before.
Mexico. Carlos.
Prey that had become hunter. Nicole jumped to her feet and felt the lash of pain sweep over her. “What ... what are you doing here?” Dumb question. Like the others, he was there to kill her.
Because of what she was.
He smile widened even as his gaze raked her. “That looks like it hurts.”
It did. She wouldn’t stop hurting until she drank and healed.
“Off to stop them, isn’t he? Off to kill them ... for you.”
She needed a weapon stronger than her claws. “I wasn’t going to hurt you that night. I was just—”
“Thirsty.” He smiled and his teeth looked far too sharp to be human.
Vampire? No, a vamp wouldn’t care if she got a little hungry.
He lifted his hand and his claws were out. Not sharpened, razor-sharp fingernails like she had but actual,
real
claws. The kind an animal would have.
Oh, shit.
That scent, the claws ...
“Figuring it out, eh? Took you long enough.” He sauntered closer.
Weapon!
The fire sputtered on the ground but there was a broken bottle nearby. She grabbed it and held the jagged glass toward him. Glass had worked for her once before.
“Did you think that since you’re undead, you’re at the top of the food chain now?” His teeth snapped together. “Not even close.”
“Y-you’re a shifter.” She should have realized that fact sooner. But she’d been so hungry in Mexico. She’d noticed the scent was off, but ... bad mistake.
“Um. Guess I am.” He shrugged. “That glass isn’t goin’ to hurt me. Unlike you, I’m not weak during the day.” His dark gaze dropped to her neck. “If I wanted, I could rip out your throat right now.”
As weak as she felt, that might be a possibility.
Ten days. Nine, eight ... who knew what was left?
Her nostrils flared. Was that flowers in the air? Did the smell come from the woods or from ...
Time’s counting down.
“But I don’t want to kill you. Not yet, anyway.” Carlos leapt at her. He grabbed the broken bottle and yanked it from her hands. He hauled her close to him, and the slam of his body against her burned flesh had her screaming in agonized pain. He caught her hair and wrenched her head back. “I fucking hate vamps!”
Who didn’t? She bit her lip to hold back another cry.
“You’re a screamer. Ah, I like that.” His claws slipped down her cheek. “Before we’re done, I’ll make sure you scream plenty.”
Her own claws were lengthening as the rage and fear built. Her fangs burned and if she had the chance, she’d—
“What ?” He wrenched back her head. “You want my throat?”
Yes.
“You wanted it that night in Mexico, too, didn’t you?”
She’d wanted blood. “Not like ...” she gritted, “I can stop the thirst.”
His brows lowered at that. “No, I don’t guess you can.” He shrugged. “You still smell fresh, not like the decomposing piles of shit vamps usually are.”
Well, great for her.
“Didn’t introduce myself formally before,” he murmured and finally lifted those rip-me-open claws away from her. “Name’s Carlos Guerro.”
“I don’t care who you are!”
“No, you never did. That was part of the problem.” The faint lines around his eyes tightened. “You just wanted to drain me.”
She swallowed. The pain was making her nauseous and the throbs from the blisters wouldn’t stop. “He’ll be back,” she whispered. Keenan hadn’t deserted her. She’d seen the fierce rage in him. He’d gone after the hunters, but
he’d be back.
“Good.” His smile flashed once more. “I’m rather counting on that,
querida
.”
 
Keenan’s entire focus centered on the hunter, Mike. Keenan’s motorcycle sped up as the bike ate up the road. He drove faster, faster.
As the group roared down the road, two of the men lost control of their bikes. They crashed and their bikes slid right off the road.
Mike didn’t slow at the crash. Just revved his engine, and drove faster.
Not fast enough.
Keenan had the bastard’s scent. Fear and fury and fire. Mike wouldn’t get away.
Keenan could still see Nicole’s tears.
His front wheel pushed into Mike’s bike. With a scream of metal, the hunter’s motorcycle flipped, sending that jerk flying through the air.
Mike’s two surviving men kept racing away. Keenan didn’t go after them. He’d get to them later.
The fire of his vision centered only on Mike, only on the man who was scrambling across the road, moving like a crab and laughing as blood poured from his nose.
BOOK: Angel of Darkness
12.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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