Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(67)

I-I’m okay.

The breath burned in his lungs.

She’d been alive and ... he’d left her. The fury had been so strong and the need to punish driving him— To kill.

“Bitch will ... s-suffer.”

His breath heaving out, Keenan stalked across the road. “No, she won’t.”

“She is!” Mike’s wild laughter tossed on the wind that shouldn’t be there. “She’s ... sufferin’ now.” His lips were curved wide, showing that bloody grin. “Justice.”

Keenan shook his head. Bull. No one was left to hurt Nicole. She was— “He said you’d ... leave her.”

“He?” Get back to Nicole. The whisper filled in his mind and had his body tensing.

“He’ll kill her.” Mike’s laughter choked in his chest. “When you find ... her ... Vamp will be ripped open—”

Keenan lunged forward and grabbed Mike, yanking him up. “Who? Who’s after—”

Mike’s eyes widened. His breath rasped. Pain and fear tightened his face. “W-wings ...”

And he died.

He died.

Keenan stared down at his hands. Hands that had grabbed Mike.

One touch.

Death.

Keenan’s hands lifted. Mike’s body dropped to the ground, as hard as stone. Frozen in death.

Sam had been right. All the powers were coming back, and he’d just gotten the power he’d dreaded the most.

“No.” Keenan stumbled back and then stared up at the perfect blue sky. “No!”

If his touch could kill, then he couldn’t touch Nicole again. Couldn’t— Vamp will be ... ripped open— He couldn’t let her die. Keenan shoved back the rage and trapped it deep inside his body. He spun and ran back for the motorcycle. He’d stop whoever was after Nicole, stop him, kill him—with a touch.

Because the angel of death was back.

He could almost feel the beat of his wings as he raced down the highway.





When Sam came upon the battered motorcycles on the old highway, he smiled.

And knew that his plan was working.

He braked his truck—he rather enjoyed that truck—and climbed out to survey the wreckage. Two men, still alive. Groaning and twitching on the ground. One man ...

Sam walked closer, his booted feet thudding on the concrete.

One dead.

Sam’s head cocked as he crouched and studied the body. Big Mike. A semi-legend in vampire-killing circles. Mike and his brother Jeff had followed the motto that the only good vamp was a dead one. So they’d staked every vamp they could find.

At least, they had until old Jeff had gotten good and drunk one night and let a sweet little newbie vamp with a good ass and a bad bite get too close.

The urge to f*ck could blind even the smartest hunters.

Sam’s gaze tracked over the dead man. No wound that he could see. Not on the outside, anyway. But if Big Mike had died the way he suspected, the marks would be on the inside.

Smiling, Sam rose. So the Fallen had come into more of his old powers. Good. Keenan would probably be afraid now, and worried that every person he touched he’d kill.

Sam sauntered back to his truck.

Keenan should be afraid. Very afraid.

That was why Keenan would be so glad to see him. Ah, yes, the Fallen was just where he wanted him to be.

My game, my rules.





“Nicole!” Keenan yelled her name as he jumped from the motorcycle. Smoke rose, curling in the air above the dying fire. Blood stained the ground, but Nicole wasn’t there.

“Nicole!” His voice thundered out as he ran up the porch steps. Maybe she was inside. Maybe Mike had just been messing with his head.

Yes, she was inside. Probably cleaning her wounds or getting ready to rip into him for leaving her behind. She was inside. She had to be.

Two minutes later, he realized she was gone. All that remained was an empty house and a blood trail that led to the woods.

He stared at those woods. Had she gone chasing someone? He sucked in a breath and ran into the brush, trying to follow the light spray of blood that he saw on the ground. He shouted her name as he ran, afraid that he’d be too late.

Stay away from her, Az.

He hadn’t fallen just to lose her.

The woods cleared up ahead. An old, red dirt road cut through the trees. Fresh tire tracks had sank into the dirt.

The blood trail disappeared.

Gone.

No, not gone. Taken.

And he’d killed the one man who could lead him to her. Mike had told him ... He’ll kill her.

Who the hell was “he”?

Nicole was strong. She wouldn’t be easy prey.

But she’d been bleeding and covered in blisters and burns. His head tilted back as he glared up at the blue sky. The sunlight would work against her.

If she could just survive until night, until he found her ...

Stay alive.

Because if she died, there would be hell to pay.

He whirled and began running back to the house. Mike might be dead, but two of those bastards in his gang had survived. He’d find them and they would talk—or they’d die, too.

His legs pumped as he ran faster, faster, and the trees passed him in a blur.

Is she hurting?

He burst out of the woods—and found Sam lounging against the side of a shiny black pickup truck.