Angel Betrayed (The Fallen #2)(96)

“He?” He could not mean—

The door was shaking now, because something was hitting it very, very hard.

“Um, yes, you got yourself a male hound.” Showing no fear, Sam strolled away. “When you went back upstairs, you left me a present.”

No, she hadn’t. Not deliberately, anyway.

Sam opened the door.

A giant mass of black fur raced inside the room. The hellhound hurried toward her, growling and—jeez, was that some kind of really scary hellhound smile? The beast’s tongue—long and black—hung out, and the hound sure seemed to be grinning at her.

Seline held out her hand. The hound bent his head and rubbed against her fingers. No attack. Just . . . warmth. Welcome. “How is he still here?”

Sam smiled at her again. Oh, damn, but that man was gorgeous. “You told him to protect me. You didn’t send him back.”

No, but—

“So he’s been here, with me, waiting for you.” Sam came closer and gave the massive hellhound a scratch behind his ears. “He’s really not so bad, not once you get to know him.”

Seline stared down at the beast. He looked back up at her with his blood-red eyes.

Pain. Blood. Death.

The hound whined and butted her lightly with his head.

“He doesn’t want you to be afraid,” Sam said quietly. “And neither do I.” He squared his shoulders. “You said you loved me.”

The hound lay down on the floor and stared up at them.

“I love you more than anything or anyone on this earth—or beyond it,” Sam told her.

Okay, that sweet-talk was exactly what she wanted to hear. Seline eased over the hound and put her arms around Sam’s shoulders. “Good . . . because that’s the same way I feel about you.”

She’d traded her wings for a life with her Fallen. Heaven, hell . . . everything in between . . . didn’t matter. Paradise was staring right back at her.

Seline laughed, finally, finally free of her past, and she grabbed hold of the future before her with both hands.

Dangerous, dark . . . yes, please. She didn’t want some kind of white knight. She wanted her lover with the wildness in his eyes and the danger at his back.

And the hellhound at his feet.

Seline kissed Sam and knew that paradise had never tasted so good.





EPILOGUE



When a woman walked into a bar with a hellhound at her side, people tended to pay attention. The smart people actually tended to run, the semi-smart folks froze, and the dumbasses kept causing trouble and picking on the innocent.

Well, they did until she let Beelzebub take a bite out of them.

Sam laughed when the hound chased a demon out of Sunrise.

Seline smiled at him. A month had passed. Her entire memory was back, now, even those parts that she would have preferred to forget.

And she was with her Fallen.

Had the pain been worth it?

Sam stalked toward her, his lips curved in that wicked grin that made her body heat.

Yes. She’d fall again, for him.

His back had scarred from the wounds delivered by Uriel. Hard, thick scars that stretched and reddened his flesh. Uriel had known just how to leave his mark.

Perhaps one day, she’d pay him back for that punishment.

Though she knew Sam had already gotten a pound of flesh from that angel. Sam always had a way of keeping sight of his enemies, even as he kept the ones he loved very close.

He hadn’t killed Az yet. Those two had developed a strange sort of arrangement. As long as they didn’t get too close to each other, then no one died.

Az had actually left town a few days before, heading off to track down some witch who “owed” him.

The Fallen and their deals. Seline guessed the devil wasn’t the only one who liked to make trades.

“You here to dance?” Sam asked, his voice that low purr of temptation that always made her want to jump him and forget the rest of the world.

Seline didn’t glance at the stage. She didn’t need to steal any energy from the crowd these days. Sam kept her well stocked, thank you. But, because she liked to push him, she said, “Maybe . . .”

His eyes narrowed. Ah, jealous Fallen. He was learning to tease and lighten up—finally—but he could still miss the mark sometimes. Like now.

“No, I-I didn’t mean—” he began, then broke off, shaking his head. “If that’s what you want . . .”

Now she was the one who was surprised. “Sam?”

He turned away from her. “Everyone!” His bellow froze them all instantly. All eyes turned to him, and Sam ordered, “Get the f*ck out.”

Beelzebub leapt onto the bar and howled.

Everyone got the f*ck out.

The hellhound followed them to the door, then he stopped, standing guard. The beast glanced back at her once, his ferocious teeth glinting, but his mouth spread in a happy grin.

Beelzebub was always trying to make Sam happy these days. And to think . . . once the hound had wanted to eat the guy.

Sam crossed his arms and leaned back against the bar. “Now you can dance.” His gaze raked her. “For me. Only me.”

He was the only audience she wanted. Her gaze landed on the cages he’d installed—also for her. His confession.

He’d definitely been sharing those dreams with her as she struggled to find her way home. Dream-walking. The power to slip into his dreams had returned to her first, and she hadn’t even realized it.