Angel of Darkness Page 7

  He caught the hitch of her breath. “What school?”

  His eyes opened. “St. Mary’s. Down in the Quarter. You’d stay late with the kids, then hurry home, change and meet—who was it? Donna—for drinks at the bar on—”

  “How do you know this?”

  “You never went home with any of the men.” Not while he’d been watching. “You flirted. You drank. Wore skirts a bit shorter than the ones you used to wear at St. Mary’s—”

  A shiver skated down her body—the shiver trembled over him like a silken touch.

  “You weren’t any different from a hundred other women in the city. Work, job, friends ...” No different. No different from the thousands of other charges he’d taken, but when he’d looked into her eyes ...

  He’d lost everything.

  The rage hit him then, a hard fire that burned with the lust. Keenan lunged up, spun them, and pushed her onto the ground.

  “I’m not a human you can jerk around,” he told her, bringing his face in close to hers. “Your strength isn’t going to work on me. Your bite isn’t going to make me weak.” Right then, he was the one wanting to take a bite. And why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he take what he wanted from her?

  He’d burned for her.

  “That’s bullshit!” She tried to shove away from him. When would she realize he wasn’t letting her go anywhere? “A vamp can drain a demon, a vamp can kill—”

  He stared into her eyes. No, she wasn’t the same woman she’d been. In her stare, he now saw the secrets, the pain, the fury. A fury that matched his own because he wasn’t the same, either. “Sweet, I don’t remember saying I was a demon. Just that the bastard had seen through my glamour.”

  Her lips parted.

  And he took.

  His mouth crashed onto hers, a deep, hard kiss. This need, this consuming hunger—it was what had led the humans into temptation.

  Sin.

  Oh, yes, he wanted to sin with her.

  She didn’t wrench her head away from him. Didn’t bite him with those too-sharp teeth.

  But she didn’t kiss him back.

  He wanted her to kiss him back.

  “Nicole ...” His hold gentled on her wrists. Her breasts were tight. Her hips pressing up against him. Keenan knew the signs of a woman’s arousal but he didn’t know how to get her to give in to her need.

  His hands freed hers. He kept his lips on hers and managed to soften the kiss. His tongue swept inside her mouth. Yes. That rich taste that was pure Nicole tormented him. He wanted more. Wanted everything.

  And her hands were on him now. In his hair. Not pushing away. Pulling closer.

  Her tongue met his. She gave a little moan in her throat, a hungry, hot sound that had all the blood in his body rushing right to his erection.

  Lust.

  Men had killed for this. Died.

  He could understand. Finally.

  His hands pushed between their bodies and found the snap of her jeans. Touch.

  He had to know what she felt like. Had to see if she was wet. Hot. Would she taste as sweet there?

  Her zipper hissed down. His fingers pushed inside and found the soft cotton of her underwear. Her hips arched against him, and her tongue licked across his lips.

  And a car’s engine growled in the distance. Coming closer. Closer.

  No.

  His head snapped up. His breath heaved out, and he couldn’t look away from her. On the ground. Lips red from his mouth. Her arms around him, her claws digging into his skin.

  His gaze trekked down her body. His stare lingered on the pebbled nipples that thrust against her borrowed shirt. Slowly, slowly, his gaze dropped down to the jeans that were unsnapped, revealing the pale skin of her abdomen, the dark black of her panties.

  More.

  The car’s engine idled closer. A siren blared on, a slow, droning wail.

  “A cop ...” Her husky voice was like a stroke right over his flesh. “If he sees the truck, he’ll think we’re hurt. He’s not going to leave ...”

  No. “This isn’t over.” His thumb brushed over her lips. Her eyes widened and then her tongue snaked out, licking him.

  His heart shoved into his ribs. “Nicole, don’t run from me again.”

  The cop was getting closer. Keenan could hear the tread and roll of the tires.

  Her head moved in the slightest of nods. “After we get rid of him, you tell me everything, okay? Because if you’re not a demon, then what are you?”

  He would tell her this much. “Once upon a time,” he rose, stretching to his feet and pulling her up with him. “I was an angel.”

  Her lips parted in surprise, but then she immediately shook her head. “What? Come on, no way. Angels aren’t—”

  “Vampires can be real. Demons can live. Werewolves can howl.” He raised a brow. “Why can’t angels exist?”

  A car door slammed. Footsteps thudded toward them. “Oh, shit,” a rumbling male voice said. “Hello! Hello! It’s all right, I can help you!”

  Keenan glanced back toward the wrecked truck. In the dark, a human wouldn’t be able to see them. The beam of headlights from the patrol car illuminated the truck’s wreckage. He turned toward the cop.

  Nicole grabbed his hand. “Guardian ... angel?”

  Not quite.

  “There’s something you should know,” he said, but didn’t look at her. Her hand felt cool against his overheated flesh.

  “Wh-what?”

  “Sometimes, angels really do fall.” She deserved the warning.

  Nicole sucked in a sharp breath.

  “And when we do, we bring hell on earth in our wake.”

  She backed up a step. “So are you the good guy—”

  He laughed at that. “Not even close.” But he leaned in toward her and pulled up her zipper, then snapped her jeans. His fingers lingered too long. He couldn’t help that. “But I’m not here to hurt you. Those bastards who come after you, yeah, I’ll hurt them, but not you.”

  “Because I’m your key?”

  He’d told her that in a weak moment. The truth should have stayed hidden. Too late now. He gave a grim nod.

  The cop was swearing and yelling. They’d have to talk more later.

  Keenan headed for the truck.

  “If it’s all true ...”

  Her voice followed him. She didn’t.

  “If it’s true,” she said again, and, so, what, a vampire doubted an angel’s word? The world really was screwed. “Then, Keenan, what made you fall?”

  He froze.

  “Angels don’t just ... fall. It had to be something big, right? Something very, very bad.”

  The cop’s flashlight hit him them. “Sonofabitch!” The guy exclaimed and ran toward Keenan. “Take it easy, sir, I’ll get you help, I can—”

  Keenan lifted his hand. “I’m not hurt.”

  “Neither am I,” Nicole murmured as she came slowly to his side.

  The flashlight jerked toward her and illuminated her pale face.

  “Ma’am, you sure about that?” The cop’s voice held an edge of worry. “That truck was smashed to hell and back.”

  Apt.

  “Not a scratch on me,” she said, her lips rising in a smile.

  The cop—no, that wasn’t a cop. The older man approaching them so cautiously wore a brown sheriff’s uniform, complete with a shining silver star. The sheriff raised his brows. “Mind telling me what happened out here?” The worry had faded from his voice, and suspicion coated the words. His right hand began to inch toward his hip and the gun holstered there.

  Nicole stepped forward.

  After we get rid of him, you tell me everything, okay?

  Keenan grabbed her wrist. Nicole wasn’t the same woman she’d been in New Orleans. He didn’t know what she’d been doing for the last six months. Drinking from prey, killing them?

  Don’t know, but I still want her just as much.

  That was the problem.

  “Don’t hurt him,” he ordere
d, his voice a whisper.

  Her expression never altered.

  “Let go of that woman,” the sheriff barked. “And you both put your hands up high in the air.”

  Keenan let her go and raised his hands. After a moment, Nicole followed suit.

  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 wou
ldn’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.