Wicked Road to Hel (League of Guardians 1)

She glanced at Nico once more. The jaguar gripped a coffee cup in his hands; his knuckles were white and his eyes were round balls of anger.

“The name’s Cale.”

She swallowed and turned. He was one hell of an attractive man, she’d give him that. Dressed the way she liked, jeans and leather. He was all male, rugged and ripped, with golden eyes and a wicked smile. The man oozed charisma and power.

He was definitely dangerous.

She grabbed her blood and poured herself a drink. Nico continued to watch in silence. He was definitely not in his happy place.

She took a long sip. “I guess what I meant was, what the hell are you?”

Cale finished his plate, pushed it away, and stood. Ana tried not to flinch but the man was freaking enormous. He was tall, with broad shoulders and powerful limbs. Her muscles tightened and she put her glass down carefully.

She had an aha moment. One that said the shit was gonna hit the fan.

“I am Seraph.” His voice was like silk.

She glanced up at Nico, eyes wide as her fangs broke skin.

What the hell? The shit was definitely gonna be flying. Her fingers were clawlike weapons and she attacked with a vicious cry.

Her small body flew through the air and she hit him hard. Everything faded from the palette that was her world. The dull gray walls, worn linoleum no longer existed. Only this man. This enemy.

The two of them tumbled to the floor, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of his neck as she squeezed with all her might.

His arms went around her body and they crashed into the pantry. She barely avoided the cans that tumbled out, though the stranger wasn’t so lucky. She smiled viciously as several large ones cracked his skull on their way down. To think that Declan had let a Seraph warrior into her house was unbelievable.

She’d deal with him later.

Vaguely, Ana was aware that Kaden was shouting at her, but the red haze that floated in front of her eyes left no room for anything besides the need to inflict pain. A lot of it.

She hissed and opened wide. She would kill the bastard and ask questions later.

She managed to get close. Her fangs were a whisper away from breaking skin when his large hands sank into the thick hair at her nape. His fingers closed around her head, and she knew in that moment if he wanted, he’d have no problem crushing her skull.

She lay on top of him, chest heaving, her body aching with the need to act. The Seraph held her for what seemed like forever, and she wanted to spit in his face at the smile that slowly spread across his face. Didn’t matter that the dude was Hollywood handsome; a broken nose would go a long way in making her feel so much better.

“So”—his smile widened—“you’re the little vampire.”

Her eyes narrowed and she hissed. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you?” he countered.

She tried to shift her body but the bastard held her tight, and as she wiggled her ass, his smile widened. Ana’s frustration boiled over and she swore loudly, a long string of profanities spewing forth that was impressive in its diversity.

“I won’t let you hurt him,” she managed to get out.

He cracked a smile and her fury increased tenfold.

She stilled, her mind making calculations as she stared back at him. Her fangs had retracted but if she could get close enough somehow and latch on, she might have a fighting chance of killing him.

“You could try.” He whispered as if he knew what she was thinking, “But I’m not so sure the end game would turn out the way you expected.”

His right hand loosened from her skull and slowly slid down her back.

“No?” She was breathing hard. “I’m thinking I’d enjoy draining you.”

“I’m sure you would.” His hand continued downward and he whispered, “I’m sure I would.”