Angel of Darkness (The Fallen 1)

His hands slid down her body, found her waist, curled tight and pulled her closer. Whenever he was around her, he was aroused, hungry for her. Desperate.

The lust beat through his blood. His c**k ached, and he wanted her.

Naked. Open.

His.

But not against the side of a dirty building. Not with too many eyes that could see too much. When he had her—and he would—he wasn’t going to share.

His tongue tasted her as he let the kiss linger. He’d never be able to get enough of her taste. Sweet and wild—a combination that could be deadly.

Not that he was too worried about death.

Slowly, savoring her, he lifted his head.

“What happens next?” She whispered.

The scent came then, teasing his nose. Flowers. Faint. Fresh.

“We get the hell out of here.” He glanced at the lot. There. A pickup truck sat parked near the left. Big wheels. Shiny coat of paint. Probably with a motor that knew how to howl. “And we get out of here now.” The instant they were safe, he’d take her because he couldn’t wait much longer.

His control wasn’t that strong.

But finding a place to keep them away from the prying eyes of an angel … that wasn’t going to be easy.

The pickup’s driver-side door was locked, so he just shoved his elbow through the window and broke the glass. A quick flick of his fingers on the lock had the door opening.

“You know how to hot-wire this thing?” Nicole asked.

“What the hell are you doin’, you f**kin’ asshole?”

Keenan turned at the snarl and saw a tall human male with blond hair racing toward him.

“That’s my f**kin’ truck!”

“Yes.” Unfortunate but … “Sorry. We’re going to need it.”

“The hell you are!” The guy swung at Keenan with a hard roundhouse punch.

The punch missed.

The floral scent in the air deepened. The last thing I need now.

Keenan’s right hand clenched into a fist. “You should have stayed in the bar.”

“I’ll f**k you up, ass**le.” Spittle flew from the blond’s mouth, and the human pulled out a knife from his boot. “No one messes with Betty.”

Betty?

“I think he means the truck,” Nicole murmured.

The human screamed and came at him, that knife up.

He waited, waited … then Keenan just punched the guy in the face. Down he went. Keenan shook his head. Would it have killed the guy to stay inside and get just one more drink?

Nicole walked around and crouched next to the man. Her hands went to his chest.

“What are you doing?” Keenan asked, voice hard. If she was planning on grabbing a drink …

She can drink from me.

Her hand lifted. She tossed him a set of keys. “No hot-wiring required.”

His fingers closed around the keys. Nice.

The doors of the truckstop banged open. Ah … more company was heading their way. “Get in,” he said as his eyes narrowed.

She jumped into the truck. Nicole slid right over the broken glass and settled in the passenger seat. He shot in behind her. Keenan revved the engine, and even before the approaching truckers called out, obviously catching sight of the blond’s slumped form, he and Nicole were racing out of the lot.

Nicole glanced behind them. “We can’t keep doing this. I want to stop and find a place to rest.”

Because it had been a hell of a day for both of them. He still didn’t know what had happened to her at that police station. She’d mentioned a Taser …

Her fingers slipped down his arm as she shifted closer to him. “Where can we go? Tell me you know a safe house around here.”

Safe from angels? And demons?

Was there such a place?

His gaze slipped to her. He’d find a place like that. She’d be safe. He’d make sure of it.

“I’m just … spooked.” Her admission was soft. “That Sam … he said I’d suffer.”

No, she wouldn’t. Not while he was there.

But I wasn’t there when the cops took her.

He yanked his gaze from her and looked ahead at the road—just in time to see an angel fall from the sky. No, not fall, fly.

Strong black wings flapped in the night, coming closer, closer to the ground. And when the man—angel—landed in front of the truck, the highway seemed to buckle beneath his weight.

Keenan slammed on the brakes. The brakes squealed, and the truck fishtailed.

The angel’s knees had bent just a bit when he landed, and his head was bowed. As the truck flew toward him, he slowly lifted his head.

Bright blue eyes stared back at Keenan. Eyes that had seen everything the world had to offer—and found it lacking. Azrael had never been impressed with the humans and their lives.

Azrael. Az. Heaven’s big gun was down on earth—not good.

Az’s face was cold and hard. No emotion appeared on that stony visage. There was never any emotion from their kind.

The truck finally stopped less than two feet from Az. His wings stretched behind him as he straightened fully.

“Keenan!” Nicole grabbed his arm. “What’s happening? Why are we stopping?”

He knew she wouldn’t see the angel. Couldn’t. Not unless she was close to death. “We have company.” He didn’t take his gaze off the road. “Angel.”

“Those guys sure seem to drop in a lot.” The words were light, but her nails dug into him, and the hard rasp of her breath filled the car.

“More than they should,” he agreed darkly as his hand grabbed the door handle.

But she didn’t let go of him. Her hold tightened. “What kind of angel?” Fear had trickled into her words. Smart woman. Angels weren’t always the good guys, not even close. No matter what the stories said, they could spill just as much blood as demons any day of the week.

He didn’t want to tell her this but … “He’s a death angel.” It was the wings that always gave them away. Guardians had white wings. Only death angels and Punish-ers had wings of black because they dealt in despair.

He killed the engine and glanced at Nicole. Her narrowed eyes were on the road as she fought to see what she couldn’t. His stare followed hers. Az stared straight at the truck. No, he straight at Nicole, and there was no mistaking the intent in the angel’s eyes.

No.

Keenan jumped out of the truck. He raced for his old mentor. “Stay away from her!” He yelled.

Az didn’t move. Not much had ever moved Azrael. Not pity. Not fear.