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Authors: Cynthia Eden

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

Angel of Darkness (8 page)

BOOK: Angel of Darkness
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The sheriff came closer, sniffing as he neared them. “Don’t smell no alcohol.” He peered at Nicole. “Ma’am, you been drinking?”
Keenan nearly smiled.
“No, I—”
“Holy shit.”
Now that gun of the sheriff’s was up and out—and aimed directly at Nicole.
“I know who you are.”
Keenan saw the fear flash on Nicole’s face.
The sheriff jumped back and pointed the gun right at her heart. “I got a fax in my office earlier today—one with your picture. You’re wanted for murder in Louisiana.”
Keenan heard the hitch in Nicole’s breathing. A faint sound, but one he caught.
“And you nearly killed a cop ...” The deep lines around the sheriff’s eyes tightened and his lips thinned. “He came to help you, and you nearly killed him.”
“No, I didn’t!”
Keenan didn’t know this story. “Perhaps you have the wrong woman.”
The cop’s eyes darted to him. “You don’t want to be with her, mister.”
He held that stare. “Yes, I do.”
The sheriff yanked out a set of handcuffs and crept carefully toward Nicole. “No, no, if you’d seen what she—”
Nicole’s hands flew up and she punched the cop, her fist catching him under his jaw. The blow sent him stumbling back.
When the sheriff hit the ground, his eyes were closed and he was out.
“I can’t go to jail,” Nicole whispered with her eyes on the cop. “I didn’t want to hurt him, but I can’t—”
“A vampire would never survive in jail.” Or rather, the powers that be wouldn’t let her. He knew how the game was played. Some supernaturals—generally the low-level demons and the charmers—could handle prison. Vamps couldn’t. They’d start feeding on the other inmates and eventually, they’d have to be put down. Besides, it wasn’t like the jails could really hold them. Or the shifters, for that matter.
He bent next to the sheriff. Still breathing. His jaw wasn’t broken, though it must be made of glass. Keenan glanced back up at Nicole. “You up for a run?” The faintest scent of flowers teased his nose and he tensed, his gaze sharpening.
But no one else was there.
Just Nicole, with her wide, worried gaze. And the sheriff, but he was all but dead to the world.
That scent ...
Time to get out of there.
They couldn’t take the sheriff’s car. Too obvious. But with their power and speed, they could put a whole lot of distance between them and the man on the ground.
She gave a grim nod. “What about him? When he wakes up, he’ll put out an APB on me. More deputies will start searching.”
“Then I guess we need to make sure they don’t find you.” He rose and scanned the dark area around them. “We run until we find the nearest house. We take any car we find.”
“Steal it?” She bit her lip as her stare landed on the sheriff. The guy did look rather defenseless, knocked out like that. His arms were spread. His hat had fallen onto the ground near his head, and his thinning gray hair stuck to his forehead. “Isn’t that breaking one of the commandments and not very, um, angel like?”
Going to dwell on that, was she?
“Told you, sweet, I fell.” Now they had to move. Sleeping Beauty wasn’t going to stay out for long. “You ready to run or do you want him to toss your butt in jail?”
She swallowed. “Run.”
Good. He laced his fingers through hers, and they raced into the night.
 
The angel watched them run. Keenan was so fast he could have easily left the vampire, had that been what the Fallen wanted.
But he knew Keenan didn’t want to leave her.
That was the whole crux of this nightmare. Keenan didn’t want to leave the one who’d lied, fucked, and killed.
Sad. He’d had so much potential. So much promise. And for Keenan to now fall so low ...
The vampire would suffer for this. Tempting. Making the strong weak.
She’d suffer.
Wings flapped as the angel prepared to soar above his charges. Death was coming. Sweeping closer in the air. This time, Death wouldn’t be denied. No last-minute reprieve would be given because of temptation.
Not for the vampire, anyway. There was still a chance for Keenan. Grace could be regained.
It just took one selfless act. One courageous, determined act.
And all would be forgiven.
Sins ... wiped clean.
As the angel soared into the night sky, his black wings merged with the darkness.
 
Sheriff Tom Duggley pushed up, flexing his jaw. That little lady had one damn devil of a punch. But then, he should have expected that.
He rose and shuffled toward his car. The scent of flowers hung in the air, a light scent, totally out of place in the all but barren land.
Tom was surprised they’d left his keys—and the car. Bad move. They’d be on foot, and so much easier to track now.
He grabbed the radio. “Need an APB ...” He spit out a mouthful of blood. That punch had been
real
hard.
But she hadn’t killed him.
Odd, that.
“We got us a wanted fugitive in the area. A Nicole St. James ...” He rattled off her description.
Killing him would have been so easy for her. Child’s play, especially with him knocked out.
But she’d let him live.
And that big hoss of a protective shadow she’d had with her hadn’t gone for his head, either.
“Approach with extreme caution,” he said as his fingers tightened around the radio. The deputies wouldn’t understand just how extreme the situation would be.
They didn’t know about vampires. He did.
Good thing he’d taken the liberty of ordering special bullets for his department. A sweet little batch made just for situations like this.
A silver bullet/holy water combination—a mix that had trickled through law enforcement personnel a few years back.
A mix that worked wonders on the border. You never knew exactly what you’d see on a Texas night, not when you’d been patrolling for as long as he had.
But she’d let him live.
Damn odd for a vamp.
Damn odd.
Especially since, if the stories were true, Nicole St. James had killed two men since her vampire transformation.
 
The motorcycle roared down the road. The engine vibrated between Nicole’s legs as she held tight to her angel.
Angel.
Impossible.
But she’d spent her life as a semi-good Catholic girl. She’d been taught about angels since the time she learned her first few words. She’d always believed, until ...
Until she’d thought God turned away from her.
Not when she’d gotten the news from the doctor. No, she’d still believed. Still hoped. Still wanted to pray.
But...
That alley. That blood-soaked hell of an alley had convinced her. And then, the things she’d done ...
Her eyes squeezed shut as she pressed her forehead against Keenan’s strong back. No helmets, of course. They’d been lucky to steal the bike. The bike’s owner hadn’t been forgetful enough to leave helmets behind. Now they were just driving hard and driving fast. Her arms were around Keenan, holding tight.
Trusting him didn’t seem wise, but what choice did she have? She’d been thrown into this new world, with no damn clue how to survive. She’d barely scraped by the last few months. There’d been so many times she’d come close to death.
And she’d changed. The woman she’d been—yes, she really had died in that alley. The woman holding onto the back of a fallen angel had fallen herself.
He’d said that if she drank his blood, it wouldn’t weaken him, so the man seemed to be her perfect prey.
Perfect, but ...
I can’t trust him.
When a vamp took from prey, a link was formed. A link that allowed the vamp to slip into the prey’s mind. Sometimes to control, other times to steal thoughts or memories.
When you had control over someone, trust wasn’t exactly an issue. So most vamps didn’t worry about trusting their prey.
But she didn’t want control. Never had. She knew too well what it was like to be a puppet on someone else’s string.
Soon the lights of a city glittered in the distance.
San Antonio
. Good. The bigger the city, the easier it was for a paranormal to hide. And to feed.
Keenan snaked through the streets, guiding the bike easily, and she held him tighter. Whether she wanted it or not, her fate was being tied to his.
Keenan braked on a busy corner lined with bars, drunk humans, and cars.
Nicole eased off the motorcycle. “Thanks for—”
He turned toward her with his eyes glittering. “We get weapons here.”
Weapons? They were in front of a bar, not—
“Weapons,” his gaze swept her, “and clothes for you.” He left the motorcycle, not glancing back, and caught her hand as they pushed through the crowd. No standing in line for her angel. Just a determined stride forward.
The bouncer at the door was too smart to try and stop him, or maybe the guy saw the hint of fang she flashed.
But then they were inside. Music blared. Smoke drifted in the air and the scent of—
Blood.
Nicole froze. The scent of blood was everywhere. She hadn’t smelled so much as a drop outside, but
in
the bar—
everywhere.
“What? Haven’t you ever been to a feeding room before?” He murmured. “Would have thought it was your kind of place.”
Nausea and need tightened her belly. “F-feeding room.” Right. She knew what these places were. She’d heard about them. They were—
“Your one-stop dining shop for vamps,” he said, his gaze sweeping the crowd. She followed his stare and saw that a woman had a man pinned against the far wall, and her fangs were in his throat. Two men fed off another woman in the corner. A few feet away, a female vamp bit the wrist of the blond with her.
Blood.
“I don’t ... like feeding rooms,” she managed. Her teeth were burning, an instinctive response to all the blood. Like a dog salivating.
Want. Need.
But the prey in feeding rooms—they were expendable. Used, tossed away. Killed.
“I’m not ...”
Like this.
Right. Who was she kidding?
His steady gaze—once again that bright blue—seemed to say the same thing.
“Why are we here?” She demanded.
Weapons
. That’s what he’d said, but the only deadly weapons she saw in that place were fangs.
“You’ve got demons after you. And I don’t quite have the skills I used to possess.” His head cocked and his attention drifted to the bar. “If we’re going to fight the ones coming after you, we’ll need to be armed.”
Right. Because she wasn’t exactly kick-ass. He’d probably noticed that. “How did you even know this place was here?”
But he was already walking toward the bar as he tossed his answer back to her. “Oh, you’d be surprised at the things I’ve seen.”
No, she wouldn’t be.
Keenan reached the bar. He flattened his hands on the surface. “Max.”
The bartender glanced up with one brow raised. Keenan knew the guy’s name?
“I want to see the goods in the back room,” Keenan said.
Nicole put her elbow on the bar and let her stare dart around the room. The humans there had come in willingly, but with one bite, the vamps had taken control of them. There’d be no running back home and telling friends about the cool new club now. From here on out, the humans—those who made it out alive—would say nothing without the vampire’s permission.
Control.
She hated it.
“Listen, buddy,” the bartender snapped, “I don’t know you and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—”
His voice choked off.
Nicole glanced back at him. Keenan had gone over the bar. His hand was around the guy’s throat, and he was squeezing, hard.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Keenan ordered. “I know about the stash, and I need weapons.”
The angel wasn’t so good with finesse. Nicole cleared her throat. The bartender was a vamp. Maybe she could deal with him. She flashed a smile. A vampy one. “What my boyfriend means—sorry, he’s still new to the scene—is that I want to make a purchase from you.”
BOOK: Angel of Darkness
9.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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