Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(41)

“Why?” Az showed the barest hint of an emotion. Curiosity. “Let her go. What does it matter if she lives or dies?”

Keenan wouldn’t take his gaze off the angel to look back at her. “It matters to me.” That was all Az needed to know.

Az sighed. “You’re wrong, you know.” His wings brushed against the pavement. “I didn’t want you to arrive and find her dead. That would have served no purpose for me.”

His gut clenched. “What is it that you want, Az?”

“She doesn’t matter to me. She’s just another charge. There are thousands, millions more just like her. They’ll die, just like her.”

Nicole’s soft gasp filled his ears.

Why would she gasp? Why would—

“Angels shouldn’t fall,” Az continued, his voice coming faster. “Angels shouldn’t burn. Angels shouldn’t suffer.” Now he was the one to step closer. “We’re better than the humans. Stronger. So much more powerful.”

But the angels weren’t the favorites. No, the humans were the ones who’d been given the gifts. Hope. Love.

“Angels shouldn’t fall,” Az said again.

“I did.” And thanks for the heads-up, Az. That whole “I’ve heard it’s the fire that makes you scream the loudest” line really hadn’t helped.

“You fell ... and you can rise.”

Those words seemed to cut through him. He’d never heard of an angel going back, not after— “It’s simple, Keenan. I know she’s your temptation. We all have our trials. Prove you are stronger. Finish your job. Do what you were meant to do ...”

Kill her. No, he wouldn’t say it. Not with Nicole close enough to hear his words.

“Kill her and come home.” Az didn’t have a problem saying the words.

Keenan straightened his shoulders. “No.”

“If you don’t, someone else will.”

He knew it wasn’t an idle threat. “Who?” Keenan demanded. “Is it you? Are you the one coming after her?”

Az just stared back at him.

“I don’t want to die.” Nicole’s clear words had Keenan whirling to face her.

She stood in front of the truck, silhouetted against the headlights. Her gaze wasn’t on him, but on Az.

Could she see him?

Then Az moved, shifting slightly to the left. Nicole’s gaze didn’t follow him. Can’t see him.

“No one ever wants to die,” Az said.

Now her gaze tracked to the left—to the angel who wanted her death.

“That’s the problem,” Az continued. “But it doesn’t matter what you want, vampire. You will die within ten days. The only question is ... by whose touch?”

Not mine. Keenan lunged for Az.

But with a flap of wings, the angel was gone. The headlights shone on the road, the light stabbing into the empty darkness.

“Keenan?”

He whirled to face her once more, terrified that Az had tricked him and circled in for the kill. Can’t be so unguarded. Not ever again.

But she stood, alone, in front of the truck. Nicole appeared so small and vulnerable in that moment.

Then he caught a glimpse of fang.

Perhaps not so vulnerable.

He hurried to her side. Her eyes watched him—deep and dark and big.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked him the same way another woman might have asked if he were going to kiss her. Quiet, husky.

He caught her arms and pulled her closer.

“Are you?” She whispered.

He crushed his mouth to hers, and he kissed her hard and deep and he didn’t care that Az’s scent lingered in the air. Let the angel watch. Let him see where Keenan’s true loyalties were.

She wouldn’t die by his hands.

And any angel who came close would find out that his fury was ten times hotter than hell’s.

He hadn’t fallen to lose her.

He’d fallen to fight for her.

Ten days.

No.

He knew it was time to make a deal with the devil.



The voices were louder. The whispers in Elijah’s mind were seductive calls now, tempting him.

Stop them from seeing.

Elijah knew the humans could see right through his mask. They saw the monster inside, and they were mocking him.

He pushed through the crowd at the bar, snarling.

They can see.

His head throbbed, his heart raced, and still that voice in his mind taunted.

He needed the drugs. Needed them to quiet the voice so that he could breathe again—and hunt like he wanted. Hunt and kill without the eyes on him.

See.

He shoved open the door and the hot night air hit him in the face. He sucked in a breath, another, and stumbled away. His body shook and every step was pain.

That voice ... so loud now ... They see.

He doubled over as the pain sliced right through him.

“Hey, wait ... are you okay?”

A woman’s voice. High. Worried.

Footsteps raced toward him. He opened his eyes and saw small feet. White sandals. Tanned legs.

“You sick?” The owner of those legs asked. “Want me to call someone for you?”

He glanced up, slowly, and looked straight into her dark eyes.