Angel of Darkness (The Fallen 1)

Oh, she wanted to. Even more, she needed that blood.

Keenan’s shove had the guy sinking to his knees and staring up at her with his throat bared.

“Gonna kill me like you did Jeff?”

Her gaze swept to the unconscious men once more, and she held onto her control with all the strength she possessed. “Do you always hunt in a pack?” Wolves weren’t the only ones smart enough to do that. Mike hunted vampires, but he was human. Humans against vamps—that equaled a serious disadvantage. One he’d tried to make up for with the numbers tonight.

“Not tellin’ you a damn thing about how I hunt.” Deep lines bracketed his mouth. Keenan still had a grip on Mike’s hand and she could see the sweat that beaded Mike’s upper lip. “Not talkin’ so you might as well rip me open.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry about your brother.” She could understand Mike wanting her blood. The other vamps he’d killed—maybe they’d deserved to be put down. But maybe they hadn’t. We’re not all evil. Not when we have a choice.

“Bull … shit … just a … damn … bloodsucker.”

Right. She was. And he could see her fangs. But …

But she wasn’t under the control of the Born Master anymore. Her gaze slipped to Keenan because what she had to say was for him as much as Mike. “You know—you know when vampires are Taken …” Taken, the term for vampires who were made through the blood exchange. Made, not Born. Only a very few were actually born as vampires. The Born Masters were the strongest, baddest, and hardest to kill vamps out there.

She took a breath and glanced back at Mike. “When they’re Taken, they’re linked to the vamps that changed them.” Only the vamp who changed her had been dead. So she hadn’t been told anything about vamp rules and powers. She’d had to find everything out the hard way.

“I don’t give a shit about—”

“Vamps are linked, through the blood, back to the Born Master that started their line.” She’d talk, he’d listen. Not like Mike had much of a choice. “We’re linked, and the Born Master—he can control us, he can force his thoughts into our minds and—”

“No f**kin’ Born killed my brother! It was you!”

Her shoulders sagged. He was right. The Born had been in her head, whispering, ordering, breaking her will, but in the end, she’d been the one to make the kill. Her teeth. His throat.

“Kill me, kill me and get this damn mess over!”

Nicole shook her head. “I’m not killing you.” The voice in her head was long gone. The Born, Grim, was dead, courtesy of a female bounty hunter named Dee Daniels. There were no more whispers in her mind these days. No more hell.

Control. “I’m not a killer.” Anymore. She drank to survive, that was all. Not to kill.

Because if she crossed the line and started killing, she knew that Dee would come after her, too. Dee had warned all those Taken by Grim … kill and I’ll come.

Nicole wasn’t particularly in the mood to face off against Dee or the Night Watch Bounty Hunting Agency.

“Let him go, Keenan,” she said quietly.

Keenan dropped his hold.

Mike fell forward. His hands slapped against the concrete.

“Don’t cross my path, I won’t cross yours.” They’d both just keep living. She eased back and her shoulder brushed Keenan’s. “Let’s get out of here.”

They’d taken five steps when she heard the rustle of sound. Clothing. A scrape of wood.

She spun back around. Mike was on his feet, a stake in his left hand, and he was barreling for her again.

Crossing her path.

Keenan tried to shove her back. No way. She shoved him. Keenan went down. Her arm came up, and she blocked the blow. The stake hovered in the air. Mike strained, trying to shove down and impale her heart.

“I’m not a killer,” she told him as the bloodlust burned and called her a liar. “But if you keep coming at me, I will fight back.”

“Good,” he spat. “Cause I’m not stoppin’. That was my brother, my flesh, mine! I’m not stoppin’ ’til yer rottin’ in the ground!”

Unfortunate. She really didn’t want to kill him because she’d promised herself she wouldn’t take another life.

But she wasn’t in the mood to die, either. No matter what death angel might be circling her.

“Come at me again,” her last warning to him, “and I’ll drain you dry.”

“Just like you did Jeff?”

Through gritted teeth, she managed, “Yes.” She yanked the stake from him and drove it into his shoulder. He howled as his blood flew into the air.

Keenan drove his fist into Mike’s face. That stopped the yelling and Mike joined his unconscious men on the ground.

Keenan met her stare, his eyes dark. “If you leave him alive, he’ll just come after you again.”

“Maybe.” Probably. “But I have to give him the chance.” To walk away. Just walk away.

Yet with blood involved, would the guy walk? This wasn’t about pride, it was about family.

Vengeance.

He’ll come after me again.

And she’d have to kill him. But not now. Not tonight. The scent of flowers that thickened the air—the angel that was close—he’d have to wait on her prey.

“Maybe he’ll wake up smart.” I could have killed you. I gave you a chance.

Give me one.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” she said. Before the guys on the ground woke up and before those sirens she heard got any closer.

Coming home again—bad mistake. There too many dangers to her in New Orleans.

But then, these days, it seemed like someone was always after her.

Because I’m marked for death?

Time was running out for her.

“Come on,” he said, and snagged her hand with his. She heard the crack of anger in his voice and hesitated. He knows. He knew about the darkness in her now. He’d realized she wasn’t the woman he’d watched before. While he’d been away, her bad side had most definitely come out to play.

“Hurry, Nicole, come on!” Then they were running, streaking down the streets and darting through the alleys. Bourbon Street came and went, the crowd a blur around her. Voices, laughter. Bodies brushing. Faster, faster they went as they pushed into bars, darted outside, and cut through the city.

Then …

Silence.