Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(82)

She smiled at him and the sight almost broke his heart. “You know what I’ve done, so why do you still want to be with me?”

“Because I’ve wanted you ...” Before he’d even really understood what wanting was. He cleared his throat. “Because I want you, everything that you are.”

“And that’s the way I feel about you.” Her fingers slid down his chest. “I just want you.”

“What if ...”

She stopped him by leaning forward and kissing his lips. A soft kiss. Gentle. Neither of them had seen a lot of gentleness lately. “I trust you,” she breathed the words against his mouth.

Her trust was precious, he knew that. It was also dangerous.

“I heal faster ...” She eased back and glanced at her hands. There was no sign of bruises anymore. “When I drink your blood.”

Angel blood was potent. The most magical to some—and the most deadly to others. Vamps would see a burst in healing from angel blood, while demons who ingested his blood—they’d die.

The Fallen blood had once given rise to the demons, but over time, that blood had diluted. The drugs the demons so often ingested had changed their bodies—time and mutation had done the rest. Now, if the demons took a hit of undiluted angel blood—they didn’t get a healing rush. They only got death.

“When I drink your blood ...” Her eyes tracked to just over his shoulder. Her hand lifted, slid down his back, and her fingers seemed to stroke the air. No, she was stroking his wings. “I see things,” she said.

A shudder worked down his body. He felt her touch on wings he no longer had. What the— Her eyes came back to him. “You’re beautiful, Keenan.”

“Men aren’t beautiful.” If he didn’t have her soon, he’d erupt. “Men aren’t—”

“You’re a lot more than a man.” She turned away and headed up the stairs, her hips rolling and making him want to touch and take. “So much more.” Nicole tossed a teasing glance back over his shoulder. “So come prove it to me.”

Then she laughed, actually laughed, as she ran up the stairs.

Right then, the truth hit him. He knew exactly why he’d fallen, and he knew that if the choice came again, he’d face the fire once more.

For her.

He’d kill and he’d burn for his temptation.

Sam didn’t really know why he’d searched for the woman, but the dancer—Seline—had caught his eye that fiery night at Temptation, and since then she’d kept slipping into his dreams.

Normally, he only dreamed of fire and screams. But lately, he’d begun to dream of a woman who stripped ... and stared at him with ice-cold eyes.

Finding her wasn’t very difficult. Most of the girls from Temptation had just bounced right over to Sunrise, another of his clubs, this one in a less desirable part of town. He went in and wondered if he’d find Seline on stage.

She wasn’t on stage—she was waiting tables, and dressed in a slim black, very, very short dress that made him want to lick her.

He picked a table in her area, then waited.

When she came toward him, he saw her hesitate. Her eyes widened a little. He knew fear when he saw it, but she kept heading toward him. Interesting. He lifted a twenty. “I’ll take a beer.”

She swiped the money and turned away.

He caught her wrist.

“You’re not supposed to touch,” she said, voice tense.

He kept touching. He stared at her skin—soft, silken skin—then let his gaze rise. Yes, it was still there. A sensual appeal that lapped at the senses and wouldn’t be denied. Even now, other eyes were on her, other men were waiting and watching. Sam nodded and let his touch linger a little longer before he freed her.

She stepped back and turned for the bar.

“I’d lay odds you’re a demon,” he said quietly.

The drink tray fell from her right hand. When she whirled around to stare at him with wide eyes, he smiled. “What? No one figured it out before?”

She shook her head and glanced around the club. “You ... you shouldn’t be here.”

“Where else should I be?” His gaze dipped to her very long legs. “Besides, I like the view.”

Seline marched forward and curled her fingers around his chin. Delicate fingers forced his chin up as her eyes locked on his. “Someone’s hunting you.”

Sweet. She cared enough to warn him.

“I’m telling you ...” She glanced over her shoulder. “Because I’ve heard you pay your debts.”

Not really, but he wanted her to keep talking so he kept his mouth shut.

“Tina ... she talked to some guy after the fire—”

Tina? He vaguely remembered a blonde with big breasts who’d been semi-skilled at pole dancing.

“She told him about you, about that woman who was with you in the back at Temptation.”

Ah, Seline was helping him now. Perhaps he would owe her for the information. “What did this man look like?”

“Six foot two, two hundred pounds, black hair, black eyes, with a Mexican accent.” She bent and scooped up her tray. “And if I’m not mistaken, he’s a shifter. He smelled like an animal, no mistaking that shifter scent.”

Seline was just full of surprises. “Your memory’s good.”