Angel Betrayed (18 page)
He wasn’t human. Not a sixteen-year-old boy who had fumbled with her in the dark and gotten a near-death experience for his trouble.
“You can’t drain me, but, sweetheart, you’re not even trying. . . you’re . . .”
He withdrew. Thrust deep. Her legs wrapped around his hips as she pushed back against him.
“Giving to me,” he gritted, “making me stronger . . .”
He was making her stronger. Every touch. Every kiss.
His lips met hers in an openmouthed kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth.
Tension filled her body once more as they moved together. The thrusts weren’t as wild this time. Slow and steady, so deep. Her sex, sensitive from her climax, closed eagerly around his cock.
“Let go,” he told her. “Take, give . . . do whatever the fuck you want with me. You
won’t
hurt me.”
won’t
hurt me.”
A lover who could handle her. She swallowed and held him tighter.
And took.
When the climax hit them both, the pleasure rushed through her body and flooded her being. She sent that pleasure out, working on instinct, and gave it right back to him.
The release she felt then was so powerful that it stole her breath. Her heart nearly burst from her chest, and she held on to Sam as tightly as she could even as the ripples of climax rocked between them.
When she could suck in a full breath, she tasted power and pleasure.
And knew—as she’d suspected from the beginning—that she’d found an addiction.
Sam.
This time, he held her. He didn’t speak, just wrapped his arms around her, and she heard the strong thunder of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
His heart pounded so quickly. A powerful beat. Not like before, with the boy she’d hurt so long ago.
“I’m not human.” Sam’s voice vibrated beneath her. She didn’t look at him, but her hand pressed harder against his flesh. “You know that means the usual rules don’t apply to me.”
She had to swallow again because her throat felt parched. “Meaning if you were human, I’d hurt you.” Because that was what she did. At sixteen it had been an accident, but as she’d gotten older, Rogziel had deliberately sent her out to lure others.
She hadn’t killed by draining them, but she knew that had been a risk.
“Who was he?” Sam’s fingers slid down her back, and goose bumps rose at his touch. For someone so dangerous, he could also be incredibly gentle at times.
“He was the first boy I kissed.” It was easier to tell the story without looking into Sam’s eyes. “And also the first boy I almost killed.” The kisses had turned into touches. Need had built within her. So hungry and new. She hadn’t even realized that something was wrong with the feelings she’d experienced, not until Patrick had collapsed.
“You’re sixteen, you’re making out, and then your boyfriend almost stops breathing.” Like that wouldn’t scar a girl. It had sure messed her up. “Rogziel told me how close I came to killing Patrick. I didn’t mean—I didn’t even know then that I
could
kill someone that way.”
could
kill someone that way.”
Killing with a kiss. At sixteen, she’d learned just what kind of a monster she was.
Sam was silent, just . . . waiting. So Seline kept talking to fill that void. She’d never liked silence. It made the ghosts that surrounded her seem too loud. “At first, Rogziel was furious. I went to him for help.” A sad laugh slipped from her lips. “I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”
His hand tangled in her hair. “You do now.”
Sam’s fierce vow brought her eyes to him. She wanted to believe him, wanted to so badly, especially with his body warming hers, but what would happen when the danger was gone? She wouldn’t have him at her side anymore.
No, then she’d have her freedom.
“Tell me the rest,” he growled.
She’d never told anyone before, but right then, it just seemed right to tell him. “A few years later, Rogziel realized just how very useful I could be. When he wanted to get close to one of his marks, he let me do the dirty work for him.” She hadn’t fucked the men. Did that matter? She’d seduced, she’d charmed, but she’d never actually had sex with the marks that were her assignments. She’d never crossed that line.
Until Sam.
“Was the story about Moorecroft real?” No emotion hinted in his voice, and his hand still tangled in her hair.
She nodded and felt the tug against his wrist. “All of it. I killed his friend.”
No choice.
The bastard had almost broken her jaw. If she’d been a human, he would’ve shattered it. “When he has a chance, Moorecroft truly will be coming after me.”
No choice.
The bastard had almost broken her jaw. If she’d been a human, he would’ve shattered it. “When he has a chance, Moorecroft truly will be coming after me.”
“I don’t think so,” Sam murmured, and slowly released her hair.
She blinked and felt an ache in her chest.
He doesn’t believe me.
The first time she’d ever tried to bare her soul, and Sam thought she was playing him. “It’s true, I swear! Philip Drew was an asshole who used his fists on women every chance he got. When I wouldn’t have sex with him, he started hitting me.” And for a mortal, he’d been incredibly strong. Once again, her backup—Alex—hadn’t come to her aid. “Philip had me on the ground. He kept hitting my face and kicking me with his steel-toed boots. The bastard broke two of my ribs.” She’d been coughing up blood.
He doesn’t believe me.
The first time she’d ever tried to bare her soul, and Sam thought she was playing him. “It’s true, I swear! Philip Drew was an asshole who used his fists on women every chance he got. When I wouldn’t have sex with him, he started hitting me.” And for a mortal, he’d been incredibly strong. Once again, her backup—Alex—hadn’t come to her aid. “Philip had me on the ground. He kept hitting my face and kicking me with his steel-toed boots. The bastard broke two of my ribs.” She’d been coughing up blood.
“Then it’s a good fucking thing he’s dead.” A lethal softness had entered Sam’s voice. “He’s dead, and now his buddy Moorecroft has joined him in the grave.”
It took a moment for the words to register. “What? Moorecroft is dead? How—”
“Someone stabbed him with a shiv in his cell block.” His gaze glinted. “I guess he pissed off the wrong demon.”
Or the wrong angel—one who had connections to the demons in Moorecroft’s block. She was quickly realizing that the so-called heavenly beings could be more dangerous than any
Other
on earth.
Other
on earth.
“So don’t worry about Moorecroft coming after you. He won’t be hurting you, or any other woman, ever again.”
Seline couldn’t look away from him. There was so much darkness around him. Tonight, she felt that darkness more than ever before. “Do you ever want to go back?” Probably not what she should have said, but the question just slipped out. “Do you want to trade what you’ve become and just go—”
“I’ve delivered death my entire life. Moorecroft was just another in a chain for me.”
But that just sounded sad and wrong. “Don’t you want more than death?” Didn’t everyone? She sure did.
His fingers slid down the curve of her shoulder. “We can’t always have what we want.”
“Sometimes we can.”
His hand tightened on her. “I tried for the mortal bit, tried love, once upon a time.”
Now why was she feeling that hard spike of jealousy?
Because I want him.
“What happened?”
Because I want him.
“What happened?”
“When she found out what I truly was, she tried to kill me.”
“I’m sorry.” The words just seemed trite. And she sure seemed to be saying them a lot. Her lips pressed together.
“When she couldn’t kill me, Helena brought in the rest of the town. They spent hours stabbing, slicing, and burning me. ”
Yeah, she could see where he might be turned off the whole love thing.
“She’d loved me one day, and the next, she wanted to send me to hell.” No expression flickered on his face.
“What did you do when you got free?”
A faint line appeared between his brows. “Do you mean, did I kill her?”
She waited.
“What do you think?” His head came close to hers. “You think I killed the woman I thought of loving? She sure tried hard enough to kill me.”
Seline shook her head. “You didn’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
She raised her hand, and her fingertips traced over his lips. “Because there is more to you than death.”
His lips parted and her finger slipped into his mouth. He sucked her fingertip, and his tongue rasped over her skin.
Seline felt the dark desire begin to rise within her again. With him, it was so easy to want.
One more lick, and he pulled away from her. “Don’t be so sure of me. I’m very good at the business of death.” His gaze had heated with a fury she hadn’t seen before. “Aren’t you even going to ask . . . why did I fall?”
“No.” She didn’t want to know.
Maybe she was afraid to find out.
Because she’d already started to care for Sam. Despite the darkness that cloaked him and the danger that he wore like a shroud, he’d slipped under her guard. When they were together, she was more open with him than she ever had been with anyone else.
He offered her freedom. He offered her hope.
He made her want more.
Love. Life.
Wasn’t that what normal people had?
Wasn’t that what normal people had?
“Scared, Seline?”
Her lashes lowered. “How long ago did you fall?”
“Centuries.”
Exactly what she’d thought. “And are you the same man now?”
Silence. She glanced up and read the surprise on his face. “Are you?” she pressed.
“ No. ”
Seline nodded. “I didn’t think so. We’ve all done things we regret. The past can’t change. Only the present matters.”
And you can’t think about the future. Don’t think about it—and keep that witch away from me!
And you can’t think about the future. Don’t think about it—and keep that witch away from me!
It was hard enough to keep going some days without knowing that a fiery future waited.
She pulled Sam down beside her. Seline took his arm and wrapped it around her body. He fit her well. Better than any other man ever had. Within his arms, she felt safe. Finally.
Her breath eased in and out slowly, and the minutes ticked by. Sleep tugged at her, and she began to slip into dreams.
Then she heard his whisper in her ear.
“I don’t regret why I fell. If I had to do it again, I’d still kill them all.”
Her eyes squeezed shut even harder. “Did they—were they innocents?”
“No, but the women and children they slaughtered were. Trust me, those bastards deserved exactly what they got.”
And, wrapped in his embrace, she wondered just what she deserved.
Tomas locked the door of his motel room. Sweat trickled down his back. He was being hunted.
He peeked out of the sagging blinds. The early rays of sunlight streaked across the sky, making the heavens look blood-red.
Heaven wasn’t supposed to bleed.
Bad things are coming.
He understood the omen.
Bad things are coming.
He understood the omen.
He grabbed the phone off the bedside table. He knew when he was in over his head.
Fucking now.
One ring. Two. There was only one guy who could help him. Provided, of course, that the bastard wasn’t just in the mood to stand back and watch him die. After their last encounter—one that had ended in fists and fire—there was really no telling.
But then Sammael answered his phone.
“Sam! I’m in trouble . . .” Not that Sam usually cared about that, not for anyone, but . . .
I’ll make a deal with him.
“Tomas?” There was a murmur in the background. Sounded like a woman’s voice. It figured the Fallen would be fucking.
I’d be screwing, too, if I didn’t have someone aiming for my head.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me . . .” He glanced out of the blinds again. He didn’t see anyone, yet. But he probably wouldn’t see them coming. Good hunters never showed themselves until they were ready to make the kill. “I’ve got a problem, and I don’t really care how much I have to pay, but I need some help.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I-I’m being hunted.”
There’d been some coyote shifters who’d gone after Fallen before, or, more specifically, after their angel blood. Because it was so pure, their blood was very, very powerful.
But this was different. He’d caught the scent, and he
knew.
“It’s one of our own,” he snapped at Sam. “One of our own is gunning for me.”
knew.
“It’s one of our own,” he snapped at Sam. “One of our own is gunning for me.”
“Where are you?” Sam didn’t sound surprised or worried. Nothing new there. Emotions were supposed to hit angels when they fell to earth, but Tomas hadn’t noticed that Sam ever felt much of anything—other than boredom.
“Anahuac.” He’d been sinning his way through most of Mexico. What was the point of falling if you couldn’t enjoy some sin? “At a rundown dump of a motel three miles from the main cantina. Are you in New Orleans? Are you—”
“I’m in Laredo. I can be there to meet you in a few hours.”
Something thudded into his door. Something very hard and very big.
His hand clenched around the phone. “I don’t think I’ve got that long.”
The door began to splitter apart.
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