Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(3)

Keenan well understand what happened to those of his kind when they did not obey their orders.

Despite popular belief, angels were not the favored ones. They did not have choices like the humans. Angels had only duty.

“I don’t ...” Her words were barely a whisper. Had the vamp already savaged her neck too much for speech? “D-don’t ... want to ... die ...”

The vamp gulped down her blood, growling as he drank.

“Don’t ... let me ...” Her lashes began to fall. The fingers of her right hand began to curl inward, and her wrist brushed against the jagged glass. “Die ...”

There was so much desperation in her voice, but he’d heard desperation before. Heard fear. Heard lies. Promises.

But he’d never heard them from her.

Keenan didn’t touch her. His hand eased back as he hesitated.

Hesitated.

He’d taken a thousand souls. No, far more. But her ...

Why her? Why tonight? She’s barely lived.The vamp should be the one to go, not—

Nicole let out a guttural groan. Keenan blinked and his wings rustled behind him. No, he had a job to do. He would do it— Nicole grabbed a thick shard of broken glass and wrenched it up. She shoved it into the vampire’s neck and caught him right in the jugular. His blood spilled over her as the vamp jerked back, howling in pain and fury.

Her throat was a mess, ripped flesh, blood—so much blood. Hers. The vamp’s. Nicole grabbed another chunk of glass and swung again with a slice to the vampire’s neck.

Fighting.

She was fighting desperately for every second of life that she had left. And he was supposed to just stop her? Supposed to take her away when she struggled so hard to live?

You’ve done it before. Do it again.

So many humans. So little life. So much death.

“Bitch! I’ll cut you open—”

The vamp would. In that instant, Keenan could see everything the vamp had planned for Nicole. Her death would be ten times more brutal now. The future had already altered for her. Because I hesitated.

“I’ll rip your heart out—”

Yes, in the end, he’d do that, too.

She’d die with her eyes open, with fear and blood choking her.

“I’ll shred that pretty face—”

Her coffin would be closed.

The fire twisting in Keenan’s gut burned hotter, brighter with every slow second that passed. Why her? She’d ... soothed him before. When he’d heard her voice, it had seemed to flow through him. And when she’d laughed ...

He’d liked the sound of her laughter. Sweet, free.

“Help ... me ...” Her broken voice.

Keenan squared his shoulders. What did she see when she looked at him? A monster just like the vamp? Or a savior?

“No one f*ckin’ cares about you ...” The vamp yanked the glass out of his neck. More blood sprayed on Nicole. “You’ll die alone, and no one will even notice you’re gone.”

I will notice. Because she wouldn’t be there for him to watch anymore. She’d be far beyond Keenan’s reach. He didn’t know paradise, only death.

She tried to push off the ground, but couldn’t move. The blood loss had gotten to her and made her the perfect prey.

The vampire smiled at her. “I’m gonna start with that pretty face.”

Nicole shook her head and swiped out with the glass. The wounds didn’t stop the vampire. Nothing was going to stop him. No one. Nicole would scream and suffer and then finally—die.

And Keenan would watch. Every moment.

No.

His hand lifted, rising in that last, final touch. His touch could steal life and rip the soul right of a body.

He reached out—and locked his fingers around the vampire’s shoulder.

The vampire jerked and shuddered as if an electric charge had blasted through him. Keenan didn’t try to soften his power. He wanted the vampire to hurt. Wanted him to suffer.

And that was wrong. Angels of Death weren’t supposed to want vengeance. They weren’t supposed to get angry. They weren’t supposed to care.

Killing the vampire was wrong. Against orders. But ...

She will hurt no more.

The vamp would not slash her pale skin. He wouldn’t carve open her chest or defile her body.

He’d just die.

The vamp fell to the ground, his body as hard as the stones beneath him.

Keenan didn’t worry about the creature’s soul. Those headed to the pit needed no courier. But Nicole ...

Her breath rasped out as her chest heaved. She was still alive, but barely. His hands lifted to her savaged throat, the move an instinctual gesture.

Stop the blood.

But he didn’t touch her. Couldn’t. Because, this time, he didn’t want to kill.

“Help ...” Her desperate whisper made his chest ache.

His wings beat against the air. No humans were close enough to save her.

She was suffering, but she’d keep living. Until he touched her, she wouldn’t die, no matter how bad her wounds were.

Help. Right then, killing her would be kinder than the nightmare she faced as she fought for every breath.

“L-live ...”

But she didn’t want to let go. He’d met a soldier like her once, lifetimes ago. A man who fought on, determined to hold back the cold touch of death. The soldier had been gutted, but he’d fought, desperate to stay alive, despite the pain.