Angel of Darkness (The Fallen 1)

And he was staring at a firefighter. A young female with red cheeks who glared at him through a clear face mask.

“Get ’em to the EMTs!” She yelled, and her men pulled them clear of the building.

EMTs. He glanced down and saw the blisters on his flesh. The fire had tasted him.

His gaze darted to Nicole. No sign of any fire injuries, but she looked even paler than normal.

They loaded Nicole into the back of the ambulance. An EMT shoved an oxygen mask over her face.

Then they turned to him. A heavyset guy and a petite blonde cut off his shirt, and he saw the blonde wince at his wounds.

He could barely feel them now.

He glanced back at Nicole and saw that her fangs were peeking out. A sure sign of her desperate thirst.

“Oh my God.” The loud exclamation came from the blonde at his side. His gaze whipped back to her. He found her staring at him, her eyes saucer-like in her elfin face.

The guy stared at him, too, only his face was quickly bleaching of color. “What the hell?”

Keenan felt the tightening of his skin. One quick look down showed him that the wounds were healing. They were shrinking and disappearing right before his eyes—their eyes.

“I don’t need that!” Nicole snapped. “I don’t—Keenan! Oh, crap!” She’d gotten a look at his chest. She lunged up and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go!”

But she needed help. The EMTs could take her to the hospital. Get her some blood.

“Come on.” She jumped from the ambulance.

The little blonde lifted her hand toward him. “What are you?” She whispered.

He shook his head and leapt after Nicole.

“Stop!” The guy shouted. “You can’t leave! We need—”

But he and Nicole were already running through the night, pushing through the crowd, and Keenan knew he’d made a fatal mistake.

He’d let the humans see what he really was.

By the time they stopped running, Nicole hurt. The thirst shook her body and her teeth burned. Whatever Sam had done to her, it had knocked out her reserve energy and she needed blood. Badly.

“Nicole …”

She spun to face Keenan. They were in an alley, a too-thin slice between buildings that would give them a bit of protection from prying eyes. “Did you know that would happen?”

He blinked at her, looking sexy and strong, and—

Her breath rasped out. “They saw you heal, Keenan.”

His gaze held hers. “I didn’t realize I’d heal that fast. I hadn’t been hurt before.”

He hadn’t been—“What? Run that by me again.” Nice and slow.

His shoulders rolled. “Angels don’t feel pain. Not death angels. We collect souls.”

She knew—

“Only the dying can even see us. And if you’re dying, there’s no need to fight back. No need to suffer.”

Uh, right. “So you didn’t even know what pain was … until you fell?” Unlike him, she knew all about pain. About how it ripped you apart and tormented your mind.

The fire.

She’d never forget the lick of flames.

“Didn’t know about pain or pleasure.” His gaze caressed her face. “Until you.”

That was sweet. No, no, it wasn’t. She’d taught him about pain? Pain wasn’t some nice hallmark card. Pain was a nightmare. “Keenan …”

His fingers skimmed down her face. A sensual touch so at odds with the aches in her flesh. He crept closer and caged her against the wall with the strength of his body. “Do you need blood, sweet?”

“Yes.” It was all she could do not to sink her teeth into his throat. He was just in a fire. Hold back. Hold back!

His lips skimmed her jaw. “You shouldn’t have come into that building after me.”

Her laugh was weak. “Did you really think I’d let you face the fire alone?” She shook her head, and he leaned in close. His lips slid down her and pressed right over her pulse. She shivered. “We’re a … ah … team …” Us against the angels.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t be the losing team.

“If Sam hadn’t frozen me,” she said, “I’d have been there sooner.” Damn Sam.

His head whipped up. “What?”

She licked her lips. When he touched her, she didn’t hurt as much and his fingers were currently sliding down her side and curving over her hips. “He got me as soon as you left. One touch, and I couldn’t move.” Helpless.

“Bastard.” His fingers were under the edge of her shirt. Pushing up and caressing her flesh. In an alley. For someone still new to the whole earthly temptation bit, he learned fast.

“I … don’t … ah … think we can count on him,” she managed, her heart thudding hard in her chest. Her growing lust merged with the blood hunger and she wanted to bite. But she kept her teeth up and away from him as she said, “N-no matter what he said, we can’t … He wanted you to break.”

Keenan’s gaze bored into hers. His lips parted, but before he could speak, the roar of motorcycles shook the night. Her head turned and bright headlights flashed out of the darkness and filled her sight.

“Well look what we have here …” A booming voice called out.

A familiar voice.

That biker jerk from the bar.

Keenan didn’t move. He kept his hands on her, but his gaze was on the men closing in.

The biker. Shit. Nicole recognized the big, burly, bald biker from the club. About thirty, muscled, both arms tattooed. And he was heading right for them.

“Knew our fire would smoke you out.” He smiled. “Vamps can never handle fire worth a shit.”

Did everyone but her know the paranormal score in this world?

He pointed one leather-clad hand at Keenan. “I don’t got a fight with you. Take my advice, buddy. Go find another screw tonight.”

Her eyes slit. She needed blood badly right then, and that ass was begging for a bite.

“Watch what you say,” Keenan ordered, voice flat.

“Fuck you.”

Guess he wasn’t into watching his mouth.

Now the guy pointed at her. “I know what you are, bitch, and I know who you are.”

The more she stared at him, the more familiar he appeared to her. Something about the line of his jaw, the bulge of his nose …

“Knew as soon as you walked into that club …” The biker’s hands dropped, only to rise up half a second later gripping a stake. Definitely prepared. “I been carrying this in my pack since I buried Jeff.”