Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(94)

EPILOGUE



Az had told Nicole that she would be dead within ten days, and angels didn’t lie.

But a month had now passed and she was feeling as strong as ever.

She stared up at the St. Louis Cathedral. Her gaze drifted slowly over the thick crosses and then down to the round head of the white clock on the front of the cathedral.

Midnight.

Her gaze didn’t stray to the alley that had shown her hell and heaven. No point in going back there.

Keenan had never asked her about what happened that night when the holy-water-laced bullet had thudded into her heart. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to know.

I died.

No, angels didn’t lie. And when Az spoke of her coming death, he hadn’t been lying.

She didn’t worry about her soul being damned anymore. She’d seen what waited after this life. She’d heard the whispers of angels and felt the flutter of wings.

No, she didn’t fear death. She’d chosen to live.

And decided to come back to earth for the man she loved.

“Nicole?”

She turned at his voice and found Keenan striding from the shadows toward her. Handsome and strong.

She still saw his wings, dark shadows that stretched behind him. She loved the sight of those wings and she loved the way he trembled when she stroked them.

Loved him.

“Are you ready to leave?”

Because they were leaving New Orleans. Heading north to snow and strangers who would never recognize her. “Yes.” She wasn’t afraid anymore of what the future would hold for her.

Her future was right in front of her, and he was the best thing she’d ever seen.

She took Keenan’s hand and they walked away from the cathedral and the ghosts that haunted that old alley. She didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see the memories anymore.

She just wanted her fallen angel—good, bad, and everything in between.

Not perfect. Not pure.

Hers.

Forever. And for a vampire and a fallen angel, forever would be one very long, hot time.





Cynthia Eden also writes nail-biting romantic suspense. Turn the page for an excerpt from Deadly Fear.

Available now.





“So ... are we gonna talk about it?”

Monica froze at the deep voice. Her notes were spread in front of her, and with only about ten minutes left on the private flight, it looked like Dante had decided to get chatty.

Great.

“I mean ... we’re gonna be working together, and we can’t pretend the past didn’t happen ...”

Sure they could. She spent most of her days shoving the memories of her past away.

Carefully, Monica sat down her pen. Then she lifted her gaze. Dante sat across from her, his long legs spread out, taking up too much room.

Over the years, she’d tried not to think about Dante. Tried to pretend the fling with him hadn’t happened.

Tried and failed really, really well.

“Like what you see?” The words came out of his mouth sounding like some kind of sensual purr.

Asshole.

And, dammit, yes. Luke Dante was sex, he was power, and he was temptation.

A temptation she hadn’t been able to resist when she was twenty-two. But one she would ignore now.

Tall, muscled, with bright emerald eyes and sun-streaked blond hair, Dante was a southern boy with charm and a dimple in his chin.

Monica cleared her throat. “The past is over, Dante.” “We’re professionals, we can—”

“Pretend we never had sex? Pretend we didn’t nearly tear each other apart because we were so f*cking hungry those nights?”

Her heart thumped hard enough to shake her chest.

He smiled at her, flashing his white teeth. “Don’t know if I’m that good at pretending, Ice.”

Her eyes narrowed. She hated that nickname. The jerks she’d been in training with had tagged her with it. No one understood.

Control—control mattered. So, okay, maybe she’d helped a little bit with that nickname. But being cold kept the others away, and when someone got too close, it could be dangerous.

Straightening her shoulders, she said, “I’m the senior agent here, and I’m not looking to screw around.” Too dangerous. “We’re on a case. We work together because that’s what we have to do in order to get the job done.”

Dante didn’t so much as blink.

“Now are you going to have a problem with that? Because, if so, it won’t be too hard to send your butt back to Atlanta.” Total bullshit now. Like she had that kind of power.

“No problem, ma’am,” the title was a sardonic taunt. “I can do my job just fine.”

“Good.”

“Can you?”

Monica ground her teeth together. “Trust me, Dante, it won’t be an issue for me.” Liar, liar ...

She could still remember all too well what the man looked like naked. And what he felt like.

“Prepare for descent.” A male voice broke over the intercom system. Monica caught the belt in her hands as the rest of the pilot’s words washed right past her. Snap.

If Dante handled his first SSD case right, she’d be working with him, every day and all those nights, for a long time to come.