Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(14)

Human blood didn’t taste like that—and most Other, well, they were too smart to let vampires bite them. Unless they were baiting some kind of trap.

“What is ...” His hand was still up, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to stand on her own feet. “What is your word worth?” She asked again.

He moved toward her and caught her close. His scent—man, power—wrapped around her. “You don’t have a choice.”

The rays of the sun trickled down on her. If he’d wanted, he could have killed her. Bleeding, weakened by the sun—she was such easy prey.

Not that she’d admit that. “If you try to hurt me, I’ll take your head.” Such a big, bold bluff. Almost badass. If her voice hadn’t broken in the middle of the threat, it probably would have sounded more intimidating.

“You can try,” he said and lifted her into his arms. Her breath hissed out as the wound in her shoulder began to throb.

“How’d you get here ... so fast?” The only vehicle she spotted was the old truck that had been following behind the sedan. “Where’s your car?”

“Didn’t need a car.” But he was heading toward the abandoned truck now. He eased her inside, then hurried around the front, and jumped into the driver’s side.

The keys were still in the ignition. His strong, tanned fingers reached for the keys.

She touched his hand. “Thank you.” The words sounded hoarse.

He glanced at her with one brow rising. “You don’t need to thank me.”

But he’d saved her life. Perhaps twice in one night. And once upon a time, her sweet Southern mother had taught her manners. Some instincts couldn’t die.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the torn seat. “I’m not going to wake up handcuffed to your bed or anything. . . am I?”

Silence. The thick, uncomfortable kind that normally would make her squirm.

But right then, she could barely even hang on to consciousness.

“Fair warning ...” She licked her lips. “When the sun goes down, I’m a different girl.” One who’d had to learn to fight back the nausea and drink blood from a live source. One who knew how to seduce and hide the shaking in her knees.

If only she weren’t so tired now ...

But she’d been running for months. Been so desperate.

If he wanted to kill me, I’d be dead by now.

Grim comfort, but the only comfort she had. Because in that instant, Nicole knew there was no choice. There hadn’t been from the moment she’d crawled back up to the road. She needed him.

But what would he do with her?





The hotel’s walls were paper-thin. The bedding was old and faded.

And there were no handcuffs in sight.

Keenan carried Nicole to the bed and placed her carefully onto the sagging mattress. She didn’t stir. She’d gone to sleep—passed out—about three hours ago. He’d kept driving, wanting to get her to relative safety.

He hadn’t stopped all the men who’d taken her. Romeo and a sidekick had fled. Since Keenan didn’t want those two charging after her again, he’d made sure he crossed the border.

Not that Texas would be that much safer for his little vampire.

Vampire.

He stared down at her, frowning. Blood soaked her shirt, and vampires couldn’t afford that much blood loss. When she woke, she’d be desperate to drink again.

Food for a vamp. Looked like the mighty had fallen. Not that he minded having her mouth on him. No, that had been ...

Pleasurable.

Handcuffed to the bed.

His jaw clenched. He didn’t need handcuffs to keep her by his side. Soon enough, she’d realize that he was the only thing standing between her and the monsters on her trail. Now he understood the whispers he’d heard—the stories about the Other who were tracking his runaway teacher.

He reached for her shirt. One pull and the fabric ripped. Her skin was stained red with blood, but the wound had started to close. Good. He’d clean her up, let her sleep and ...

And figure out just what he was supposed to do with her.

Her lips were parted as her breath gently eased out. She was so pale. Far paler than she’d been back in New Orleans. Back then, she’d had sun-kissed skin and laughing eyes.

Now, her skin was like every vampire’s he’d ever met. Too pale. And her eyes, when she fed—pitch-black.

His fingers skimmed down her arm. The flesh was as soft as he’d imagined. Smooth. Chilled.

She was—

Her lashes flew up. Her eyes were green, that deep green he remembered so well. “I don’t want to die ...” She whispered, her voice fretful.

“You won’t.” Not that day. He’d make sure of it.

Her left hand rose to her throat. “Hurt me ...”

Did she even know what she was saying? Doubtful. Her eyes were already starting to sag closed again, and her voice had slurred on the words.

But he leaned close to her anyway and let his mouth hover near her ear. “I won’t.”

At least, not any more than he already had.

It seemed that nearly everything had been taken from him. Even the life—her life—that he’d meant to save.

Vampire.





CHAPTER THREE