Angel of Darkness (The Fallen 1)

Oh, well. She heaved up and jumped out of the car.

The guy fired again. Missed.

She hit the pavement, and, yes, that flesh tore right off her arm. She rolled, then hit again. Rolled.

The truck came charging right for her.

She kept tumbling, aiming her body for the edge of the highway and that incline she could see waiting.

The car’s driver slammed on the brakes and the squeal hurt her ears.

They’d have to hunt her on foot once she made it off the highway. If she could make it off the highway.

The sun was creeping up in the sky, and she could feel the weakness starting to leaden her limbs.

Carlos—the guy she’d thought was such an prime mark back at the cantina—ran toward her. Dammit, she should have realized that setup had been too easy. When would she learn?

She rolled down the ravine, and after a few bumps, she sank into the shelter of the trees. Those jerks wouldn’t have a target now. Not a clear one, anyway. The rasp of her breath seemed too loud.

Vampires weren’t supposed to hide. They were supposed to be the big, tough badasses.

But she was still new to this whole vampire business and being a badass had never come easy to her. She couldn’t even get her claws out right then. That damn sun …

Silence.

Nicole blinked. There’d been shouting a moment before. Yells in Spanish to get the “Devil’s whore!” The coming sun hadn’t drained her strength when they’d first attacked. She’d still had enough power that when she’d swung out with her right fist, she’d broken the older guy’s jaw. But then they’d all swarmed her and tossed her into that trunk.

But now …

Silence.

Her nose twitched. She knew that smell. It was a scent every vampire craved. Blood.

A car engine roared to life. She lifted up a bit and saw the vehicle fishtail as it tore down the road.

And there were two dead bodies in the middle of the highway.

Nicole glanced to the left …

“You should have listened to me.”

Keenan. The hunter she couldn’t shake.

He tossed a stake onto the ground. It rolled toward her. “Guess what Romeo wanted to shove into your heart?”

Not Romeo—Carlos. That was the name he’d given her. “You … killed him?”

“No. He got away with some of his men.”

Some. Yes, a look at the bodies had told her that some hadn’t been lucky enough to escape. “You killed them.”

His lips twisted. “I didn’t have to. Your humans were piss-poor shots. When they were aiming at you, they took out their own men.”

She didn’t believe him. Not really. But … Her gaze trekked back to the dead men. The blood pooled beneath their bodies.

There had been so many shots while she ran.

“I didn’t touch them,” he said, and her stare snapped back to him. “There was no need. They killed each other. Humans are good at that.”

His lifted his hand toward her, palm up. “Every second you stay out here, you grow weaker.”

Weaker—almost human. If those men came back …

“You have my word, I’m not here to kill you.”

“What’s your word worth?” That hand was tempting. How long had it been since she’d actually been able to trust someone else?

She pushed to her feet. Swayed.

And realized something was very, very wrong.

Nicole blinked and glanced down at her arm. Bleeding. Wha—

“They shot you.” Fury thickened his words.

She hadn’t even felt the sting of the bullet. But her arm was coated in blood.

One surefire way to kill a vampire … blood loss.

“Not the … first time …” She could heal from a bullet wound, provided she didn’t bleed to death first. Her left hand rose, pressing against the shoulder. The bullet had gone right in and right out.

I didn’t take enough blood from him.

But something had been off about Keenan’s blood. The flavor was so different from anything she’d had before. Not sweet, but more like an old wine flavored with a hint of spice.

Human blood didn’t taste like that—and most Other, well, they were too smart to let vampires bite them. Unless they were baiting some kind of trap.

“What is …” His hand was still up, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to stand on her own feet. “What is your word worth?” She asked again.

He moved toward her and caught her close. His scent—man, power—wrapped around her. “You don’t have a choice.”

The rays of the sun trickled down on her. If he’d wanted, he could have killed her. Bleeding, weakened by the sun—she was such easy prey.

Not that she’d admit that. “If you try to hurt me, I’ll take your head.” Such a big, bold bluff. Almost badass. If her voice hadn’t broken in the middle of the threat, it probably would have sounded more intimidating.

“You can try,” he said and lifted her into his arms. Her breath hissed out as the wound in her shoulder began to throb.

“How’d you get here … so fast?” The only vehicle she spotted was the old truck that had been following behind the sedan. “Where’s your car?”

“Didn’t need a car.” But he was heading toward the abandoned truck now. He eased her inside, then hurried around the front, and jumped into the driver’s side.

The keys were still in the ignition. His strong, tanned fingers reached for the keys.

She touched his hand. “Thank you.” The words sounded hoarse.

He glanced at her with one brow rising. “You don’t need to thank me.”

But he’d saved her life. Perhaps twice in one night. And once upon a time, her sweet Southern mother had taught her manners. Some instincts couldn’t die.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the torn seat. “I’m not going to wake up handcuffed to your bed or anything… am I?”

Silence. The thick, uncomfortable kind that normally would make her squirm.

But right then, she could barely even hang on to consciousness.

“Fair warning …” She licked her lips. “When the sun goes down, I’m a different girl.” One who’d had to learn to fight back the nausea and drink blood from a live source. One who knew how to seduce and hide the shaking in her knees.

If only she weren’t so tired now …

But she’d been running for months. Been so desperate.

If he wanted to kill me, I’d be dead by now.