Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(57)

Nicole wasn’t particularly in the mood to face off against Dee or the Night Watch Bounty Hunting Agency.

“Let him go, Keenan,” she said quietly.

Keenan dropped his hold.

Mike fell forward. His hands slapped against the concrete.

“Don’t cross my path, I won’t cross yours.” They’d both just keep living. She eased back and her shoulder brushed Keenan’s. “Let’s get out of here.”

They’d taken five steps when she heard the rustle of sound. Clothing. A scrape of wood.

She spun back around. Mike was on his feet, a stake in his left hand, and he was barreling for her again.

Crossing her path.

Keenan tried to shove her back. No way. She shoved him. Keenan went down. Her arm came up, and she blocked the blow. The stake hovered in the air. Mike strained, trying to shove down and impale her heart.

“I’m not a killer,” she told him as the bloodlust burned and called her a liar. “But if you keep coming at me, I will fight back.”

“Good,” he spat. “Cause I’m not stoppin’. That was my brother, my flesh, mine! I’m not stoppin’ ’til yer rottin’ in the ground!”

Unfortunate. She really didn’t want to kill him because she’d promised herself she wouldn’t take another life.

But she wasn’t in the mood to die, either. No matter what death angel might be circling her.

“Come at me again,” her last warning to him, “and I’ll drain you dry.”

“Just like you did Jeff?”

Through gritted teeth, she managed, “Yes.” She yanked the stake from him and drove it into his shoulder. He howled as his blood flew into the air.

Keenan drove his fist into Mike’s face. That stopped the yelling and Mike joined his unconscious men on the ground.

Keenan met her stare, his eyes dark. “If you leave him alive, he’ll just come after you again.”

“Maybe.” Probably. “But I have to give him the chance.” To walk away. Just walk away.

Yet with blood involved, would the guy walk? This wasn’t about pride, it was about family.

Vengeance.

He’ll come after me again.

And she’d have to kill him. But not now. Not tonight. The scent of flowers that thickened the air—the angel that was close—he’d have to wait on her prey.

“Maybe he’ll wake up smart.” I could have killed you. I gave you a chance.

Give me one.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” she said. Before the guys on the ground woke up and before those sirens she heard got any closer.

Coming home again—bad mistake. There too many dangers to her in New Orleans.

But then, these days, it seemed like someone was always after her.

Because I’m marked for death?

Time was running out for her.

“Come on,” he said, and snagged her hand with his. She heard the crack of anger in his voice and hesitated. He knows. He knew about the darkness in her now. He’d realized she wasn’t the woman he’d watched before. While he’d been away, her bad side had most definitely come out to play.

“Hurry, Nicole, come on!” Then they were running, streaking down the streets and darting through the alleys. Bourbon Street came and went, the crowd a blur around her. Voices, laughter. Bodies brushing. Faster, faster they went as they pushed into bars, darted outside, and cut through the city.

Then ...

Silence.

They’d stopped outside a voodoo shop. The place was closed for the night. The windows and doors were covered with thick bars. The street was empty—everyone was busy partying a few blocks away. Nicole sagged, her breath heaving. Safe. For now.

“You killed.” The anger was back in Keenan’s voice. More reckoning time.

She brushed her hands against her thighs, sucked in more air, and managed a jerky nod.

“After what that vamp did to you in the alley ...” He shook his head and stared at her with confusion clear in his gaze. “You killed someone else?”

More than one “someone else.” She cleared her throat. “You know about the Borns.” She’d fought, for as long and as hard as she could. But he’d broken her. “They take away your will.” She’d been linked to Grim from the moment she took her first breath. She’d heard his whisper in her mind, taunting her, and as the days passed and she became weaker, that whisper had turned into a scream.

She paced away from Keenan. The heat of the night wrapped around her. The scent of the river teased her nose. “I didn’t want to kill.” She flung out the words. “Do you really think I could ever want that?”

She’d killed the vamp who attacked her, but that had been self-defense. No choice. And the others— How long are you going to keep justifying?

She swallowed. “He put the compulsion to attack in my head. The men he sent me after—they’d been killing vamps.” Right, like that was such a bad thing. Most of the vamps she’d met had lived to torture and slaughter.

Grim had made sure that his Taken were just like him.

“You’d never killed ... not until that night.” Now Keenan sounded sad and his voice made her heart ache. “I knew—the first time I saw you in Mexico, I knew you looked different.”