Angel of Darkness (The Fallen 1)

That meant the uniform might be a perfect fit.

So for the big question … how did a vamp go about exiting a police station? Well, if she was really lucky, she just walked right past the cops, her head down, and her body covered in a cop’s uniform.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get cozy in here for a while,” Nicole told the unconscious woman as she studied her. Right size. Right hair color.

She yanked off the cop’s shoes. Too small, but they’d have to do.

Two minutes later, “Officer Jennifer Connelly” walked out of the holding cell. Her steps were sure, her head was down, and her heart thundered in her chest.

Behind her, the prisoner sat hunched near the back wall. Her dark hair covered her face.

As she marched down the long corridor out of the holding cell, Nicole felt the sweat slide down her back. She tossed her hand up to a few cops when she passed the bullpen, deliberately waving in such a way that her hand blocked her face.

Then she could see the exit door just steps away. The place was packed with people up front and it was easy to blend with the crowd now. Easy to slip past and walk right out.

She kept her pace nice and easy when she headed down the stone steps outside of the station. Nicole wanted to break and run, yet she couldn’t take the chance of eyes being on her. At the same time, she couldn’t move too slowly. If someone found Jennifer Connelly in her cell …

A motorcycle’s engine roared and she glanced up. Her breath shuddered out when she saw Keenan pulling up to the curb. Escape. Nicole pivoted on her heel and headed toward him.

His head whipped to the right and his eyes locked on her. Immediately. Kinda creepy the way he could zero in on her.

“Nicole?”

She shook her head. Then jumped on the back of the motorcycle.

“I was … coming to save you,” he told her, his voice a bit hesitant.

She laughed at that, had to, as she wrapped her arms around him. “This time, I saved myself.” Barely. “Now haul ass, angel, before the cops realize I’m not back in that cell.” The sun beat down on her, and she just wanted to slump over and sleep …

Soon.

He revved the engine. “Yes, ma’am.”

Then he hauled ass and got her the hell away from that station—and the cops who wanted her dead. She figured getting her to safety was the least the guy owed her then.

It looked like she couldn’t count on the good guys for help anymore.

I was … coming to save you.

Sweet.

What would he do when he realized that she was too far gone, that she’d never be saved? Officer Connelly had been right. She’d killed. More than once. She’d liked that wild rush of power that came from taking so much blood.

They were right to try and put her down. Unfortunately for them, she wasn’t in the mood to die.

Nicole closed her eyes and held on to her angel. Tight. And they rode away as if hell really was at their heels.

Sam stepped deeper into the shadows near the police station. Rather impressive. Nicole St. James had managed to save herself. No fallen angel needed.

His lips curved.

If she hadn’t saved herself, Keenan would have rushed inside to find a dead vamp. What would the Fallen have done then? Would his rage have broken through?

Now that would have been a sight to behold.

But a time for rage would come, soon enough.

Because Keenan could run with his little vampire, but he wouldn’t be able to hide her. Not for long.

You couldn’t hide from fate, and Nicole’s fate had been decided long ago.

Death.

Even a fallen angel wouldn’t be able to save her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nicole’s arms wrapped tightly around him, her br**sts crushed against his back, and her scent surrounded him.

Safe.

He’d figured out Sam’s riddle too late. He’d gone rushing to that station, and then she’d come rushing to him. Wearing, of all things, a cop’s uniform. Not that she didn’t make that uniform look good …

But he wanted to hear the story behind that outfit.

Keenan kept driving until the lights of the city were a distant memory. The truckstop he pulled into was more a bar than anything else. Run-down, with loud country music blasting into the night, the stop didn’t look particularly inviting. The bike was sputtering though, and he knew the stop was as far as they’d get.

Until he got them other transportation.

He killed the engine and for a moment, he listened to the someone-done-me-wrong lyrics.

Nicole didn’t ease her grip even though they weren’t moving anymore. He rather liked that.

“I can’t go in,” she whispered, and the words feathered against his ear. His c**k jerked at her voice. Sexy, husky. His whole body tensed.

Why did he react this way to her? Only her?

Temptation. Everyone had a dark challenge to face.

He turned to look at her.

She swiped her tongue over her lips. “We’re trying to fade into the background, right? No one in that joint will forget a female cop.”

He bent, pulled out the clothes he’d purchased earlier, and pushed them into her hands.

“What’s—where did you get these?”

He shrugged. “I got them while I was out today.”

Her delicate jaw hardened. “Oh, that’s right. You would’ve had plenty of time to shop while I was getting threatened by your friend, tazed, and thrown into a cage.” She jumped off the motorcycle and hugged those clothes to her chest. “So don’t even think this makes us close to even again, got me?”

He stilled, his attention caught by her words. “What friend.” Not a question.

She glanced to the left. The right. The lot was dark and he’d made sure to park in the deepest shadows. She jerked off her shirt and gave him a fast glimpse of her br**sts. Her sexy bra cupped them nicely. Oh, how he’d like another taste …

Then she yanked on the new shirt, a tight T-shirt that clung just right to her curves.

“Nicole.” His voice was a rumble and his eyes were straining to see her br**sts. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Tell me what friend you’re talking about”

She ditched her pants. Her legs really were perfect. Long, sleek. He’d been so close to learning every detail of her body—inside and out.

Would she ever let him close again?

Doubtful.

“Eyes up.” And she zipped the jeans he’d bought for her. She’d even put on the new panties. Well, the scrap that was supposed to be panties.

The lady had done a full-on strip in the parking lot. The handlebars bent beneath his grip. When the metal groaned, her head snapped toward him. “What are you—”