Angel of Darkness Page 8

  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.”

  The vamp’s black eyes measured her, and he gave a jerky nod, as much of a nod as he could manage right then, anyway. “I’ll deal ...” He rasped. “With ... you.”

  “You’ll deal with us both, Max,” Keenan promised as he shoved the guy back.

  “How do you know me?” Max asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “Word about you gets around.”

  Okay, that sounded ominous.

  Max straightened up quickly, cast a quick eye around the bar, and then shoved his thumb toward the door on the left. “This way.”

  They couldn’t go that way fast enough. That blood smell was getting to her. Her control had never been that good and right then, that scent was sweeter than any candy she’d ever had.

  She hurried behind Max and Keenan, her stare quickly sweeping back once more and—

  Oh, shit.

  Nicole’s eyes met a pitch-black stare that belonged to a vampire she’d hoped to never see again. Handsome face, arctic black eyes, and a smile so cold and cruel ...

  A lover. A killer.

  Connor.

  Her breath seemed to choke in her lungs. Then Connor lifted his hand and crooked his finger at her, urging her closer. Bastard.

  She spun on her heel and hurried after Keenan.

  But she knew the vampire would follow her. Damn him. She knew.

  Some monsters never stopped hunting.

  Not until you shoved a stake into their hearts.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Max pulled out the gun and offered it, handle first, to Nicole. She took it, her hold hesitant, but the gun felt solid in her grip. Almost ... reassuring.

  “Silver bullets,” he said, giving a nod. “It works best on wolf shifters, but all them damn animals will have some reaction to it. Fire and they’ll go down.” His lips kicked up a bit. “At least for a little while. Long enough for you to take their heads.”

  Her lashes lifted and she met his stare. “Long enough,” she repeated quietly. The words came out weak because it seemed like her throat might be closing up.

  Connor could come in at any moment. They didn’t have time to waste. “How much?” Why was she even asking? She had about one hundred bucks shoved in her back pocket. Well, she’d had it shoved there last night. She hadn’t even checked today.

  Max ran his tongue over his fangs. “Well, now ...”

  “We’re not worried about shifters.” Keenan took the gun from her and slammed it back down on the wooden table. “What have you got that will take out a demon?”

  Max’s black eyes narrowed. “That would depend on just how strong your demon is.” He shrugged. “If you’re talking low level, maybe one or two ...” He lifted his claws. “These will work well enough.”

  Her hands fisted.

  “I’m not talking about a level two.” Keenan glanced over his shoulder and his gaze tracked to the door. That thin wooden door wouldn’t keep out anyone for long. Surely not someone like Connor McQueen.

  “Then what are you talkin’?” Max demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Powerful.” Keenan looked back at him. “High-end. Strong enough to burn the city to the ground around you.”

  “Wh-what?” Nicole gasped. The demon who’d come hunting for her had been that strong? No, no way, he’d turned tail and ran. The strong didn’t run. Just the weak.

  Me.

  The faint smile slipped from Max’s face. His eyes measured Keenan. “What are you?”

  Nicole stepped closer to him. “I already told you, he’s with me.”

  “He’s no pet.”

  Pet—the slang for human prey that a vamp drank and fucked. She swallowed. “Yes, he is.” Nicole felt Keenan’s gaze dip to her face.

  But Max didn’t seem to be buying her story. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I want you both out of here. I don’t care how much money you have, you get the fuck out!” He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “I don’t want no level-ten demon comin’ after my ass.”

  “But if he did,” Keenan murmured, “how would you fight him?”

  Max’s lips parted on a surprised breath.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Soft—such a lie. Nicole moved fast as she spun and put her back against Keenan’s. The better to fight and defend.

  So two seconds later, when the lock shattered and the door burst open, she was ready to meet Connor’s black stare.

  “Hello, there, love,” he told her, his voice flowing with the faintest of English accents. “Fancy meeting you in a hellhole like this.”

  Hard fingers squeezed her shoulder. Keenan. No. He’d whirled around at Connor’s entrance, giving his back to Max. A fatal mistake with a vampire.

  Nicole grabbed Keenan’s arm and yanked him out of the way—just as Max came at him, with claws and teeth ready. Max hit her instead, taking her down to the floor. His claws scraped down her arm, but she punched at him and slammed her fist into his jaw. Max’s head snapped back, and she twisted as she managed to roll away from him.

  When she leapt back to her feet, she saw that Connor stood in the doorway, fangs glinting. Two other vamps waited behind him. Figured. Connor had always liked an audience.

  “You’re bleeding.” Keenan’s too-calm voice came from her right.

  She didn’t want to think about her arm. Those claws had stung like a bitch. “I’m fine.” Actually, they were screwed. Connor was blocking the only way out.

  Coming there had been a serious mistake.

  “You shouldn’t have brought your pet,” Max sneered as he circled her and Keenan. He wiped away the blood that trickled from his lips, then he licked his bloodst
ained fingers. “Only vamps dine here. Everyone else is on the menu.”

  “Yeah, coming here was a great idea,” she muttered, trying to put her body in front of Keenan’s. She offered a big, fake smile to the others. “My mistake. Won’t happen again.”

  “Nicole.” Connor purred her name. “Of all the vamps, you’re the last one I expected to see tonight.”

  “Who is he?” Keenan growled.

  Connor’s smile was too knowing. “I’m the one who taught her about the sweet mix of pleasure and pain.”

  She would not go there.

  “We killed together ...” He said, voice dipping with the memories. “Then I drank from her, and—”

  And Keenan was on him. Holy shit, she hadn’t even seen the guy move! Keenan had his hand wrapped around Connor’s throat and Connor’s minions were staring with wide eyes because—damn—he’d moved fast.

  “Nicole doesn’t kill.” Keenan’s dark, rumbling voice filled the room.

  Connor’s claws slashed down Keenan’s arms. “Yes, mate ... she does. Not that she ... had much ... choice ...”

  Max tried to run at Keenan’s back. Again. This time, Nicole just grabbed the gun he’d been fool enough to leave out, and she shot him.

  Max howled and fell to the ground. Silver might not kill their kind, but any bullet, especially one fired at close range and right into a man’s spine, would hurt like hell.

  The gunshot had every eye turning to her. She readjusted her aim as she pointed at the minions. “Step toward him, and you’ll be digging out silver.”

  They didn’t move.

  “You’re ... defending me?” Keenan’s brows rose. “I didn’t expect that.”

  “Yeah, well,” neither did I, “you saved my ass, so I figure now it’s my turn.”

  He nodded. “But I didn’t need your help.”

  Ungrateful much?

  Keenan stared into Connor’s eyes. “Do you want to die?”

  Connor jerked free. He’d always been strong. “Bastard, I am dead. And so are you. Nikki doesn’t have the balls to shoot me, not after what we went through. So I’ll cut you up, I’ll drain you and then—”

  Nicole shot Connor right in the chest. He stumbled back, then fell, screaming her name.

  “It’s because of what we went through,” she whispered, aware that her fingers were shaking, “that I can shoot you.” Because she knew just how vicious Connor could be. Shoot or die. She didn’t want to die.

  “Bitch!” Connor shoved a hand against his chest, and his fingers were immediately stained with blood.

  Shouts echoed from the bar. Of course, the other vampires had heard the gunshots. With their enhanced hearing, there had been no way for them to miss the shots. Even humans wouldn’t miss the sounds of gunfire. Getting out of that place would be a nightmare.

  Keenan stepped back.

  “There’s got to be another way out of here,” Nicole said, her gaze sweeping the room and her hands still trembling. Didn’t kill him. She’d just slowed Connor down. He’d recover the moment he got his fangs into one of his bimbos’ throats.

  Not a human. Not dead. She tried to take a deep breath.

  The minions had slipped away. They’d probably be back with reinforcements. “Maybe another door—”

  “No, shit, no, leave me alone!”

  Her head snapped to the left. Keenan was crouched next to Max, and the angel had a knife in his hand. Where had Keenan gotten that? And he’d just sliced the vamp.

  “It’s blood loss, right?” Keenan asked in that same quiet, calm voice he’d used when he told her that she was bleeding. A really creepy voice. “That’ll kill a vamp every time.” He lifted the knife to Max’s throat. “You could bleed to death slowly ... or else I could just take your head.” The blade cut Max’s skin.

  “No!”

  Nicole didn’t move. “Keenan ...”

  “You never answered my question, Max.”

  The shouts from outside grew louder. More vamps were creeping toward the door. She glanced down at the weapon she still held. How many more bullets were in the gun? How many vamps could she hold back?

  “Tell me what you’ve got that will take out a level-ten demon.”

  That was what Keenan still wanted to know? Her gaze whipped back up. “Tell him,” she snapped, her heart racing. Oh, they needed to get out of there. Fast.

  Another vamp tried to come through the doorway. Nicole fired. Missed him.

  Laughter teased her ears.

  “You’re just ...” Connor rasped. “Makin’ ’em ... hungrier. . .” His red hand pressed to his chest once more. He offered his twisted grin. “Missed my ... heart.”

  Because she’d planned to. Once, he’d helped her to push away the misery and hate that had nearly consumed her. “I owed you.” Was there a price for pleasure? “I don’t anymore. You come at me or at Keenan and I’ll—” What? Could she really kill him?

  Connor’s gaze held hers. “You never had the killer instinct, did you?”

  “What will take out the demons?” Keenan demanded.

  “N ... nothin’ ...”

  The blade dug deeper. More blood flowed. Nicole’s hand was sweating around the gun. “Weapons like this ...” She lifted her gun. “They aren’t supposed to work against the stronger demons.”

  “Nothin’ made by man ...” This came from Connor. His eyes had slipped closed. He’d lost a lot of blood, but she knew he’d gulp more down at the first opportunity. The man loved his blood.

  He was right, though. The stories said that no weapons made by man could kill those all-powerful level tens.

  If one came after you, then you were pretty much screwed.

  But why would a level ten want her?

  You’re the key.

  To a very broken lock.

  “If you can’t help me,” Keenan gritted, “then you’re no good to me.” Blood poured down the bright edge of the knife.

  What was he doing? He shouldn’t kill. He was an—

  “Angel!” Max’s choked gasp froze them all.

  Keenan leaned in close. “What about angels?”

  “Angel’s ... Dust ...”

  The knife lifted a bit. The blood still flowed.

  “Heard ...” Max licked his lips. “Heard talk there was a voodoo priestess in LA—she mixed angel’s blood with some herbs—m-made the Dust.” He was talking fast now. “It’s poison to demons. Even the badasses ...”

  “You don’t have any of that Dust here?” Keenan wanted to know.

  “No.” A rough laugh. “Takes a lot of their blood ... to make it ... And I ain’t seen no fuckin’ angels to kill.”

  The knife trembled over Max’s throat. She knew just how badly Keenan wanted to do some killing of his own then.

  She hurried to him and brushed her left hand over his arm. “We need to get out of here.”

  Keenan nodded and rose, his body stone hard.

  Nicole looked at the door. Vamps stood there. Smiling, waiting. They’d have to fight their way out. Pity she wasn’t a very good fighter.

  “You shouldn’t turn on your kind,” the blond woman in front of the pack said, her teeth stained red. “Not very loyal.”

  Nicole forced a shrug. “Guess I’m just not the loyal type—”

  Fire exploded. A red-hot ball of flames flew right at the blonde and the other waiting vamps. They screamed and ran, fighting each other in their fury to escape from the fire.

  A fire that had come from nowhere.

  No, not nowhere. Keenan’s hand was up and his fingers pointed right at the fire. Wisps of smoke surrounded his hand. The smoke curled over him and seemed to hold him tight.

  Because the fire had come from him.

  Damn.

  Demons could control fire. Apparently, angels could, too.

  Nicole managed to shut her mouth. Then she shook her head. “You should have mentioned that little talent sooner.” She could have saved some bullets. Actually, she would save some. Silver would definitel
y come in handy for her at some point.

  The vamps were running, really hauling butt now. Nicole tucked the weapon into the back waistband of her jeans.

  Keenan glanced at his smoking fingers. “Didn’t realize I had the talent.”

  She pushed him toward the door. “Keep that hand up. You might have to burn us a way out of here.”

  But, no, the vamps had scattered. The humans were still there, and they stared with dazed eyes and bloody bodies.

  Nicole’s jaw locked. Why do they choose to be prey?

  “Come on,” Keenan said, and his fingers wrapped around her wrist. She jerked at the contact because his touch was so hot. Not hot enough to burn, but ...

  She swallowed and her gaze met his. “Keenan ...”

  He’d already looked away. “I should burn this place to the ground.”

  “They won’t leave,” she said, waving her hand toward the humans. “They’re too far gone. You burn it, and they’ll die.”

  He stalked toward the door. She glanced back, that blood tempting her ...

  Until she met those vacant stares. Lost. Helpless. Desperate.

  Me.

  The motorcycle was still parked outside. A miracle in this neighborhood. She secured the gun in the saddlebags, and they climbed onto the bike. He revved the engine, then they streaked forward. She held on tight, as tight as she could, and drunk in the heat that flowed off his body the way she’d normally drink in blood.

  A shudder shook him, a long, hard shudder. Her hold tightened on him. “Keenan?”

  The motorcycle sped faster as it ate up the pavement. She glanced back. No sign of vamps.

  He snaked to the left. To the right. Then he turned down an alley and the motorcycle snarled to a stop. He jumped off the bike at once and stormed away from her.

  “Keenan?” She sat on the bike, uncertain as she watched him. “What’s wrong?”

  He jerked at his shirt and ripped the material from collar to waist, a long, jagged tear that revealed his chest. “So ... hot.”

  She cleared her throat. When you conjured fire, it stood to reason you might get a bit ... warm.

  But, wait, he was sweating. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes kept flickering from blue to black.