Angel of Darkness (The Fallen 1)

Damn him. She ran out into the night, shouting Keenan’s name.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Keenan caught her when she raced outside. He yanked her close even as he put his hand over her mouth to stop her screams.

He pulled her back into the shadows and covered her with his body. “Easy, sweet,” he breathed the words against her ear and she sagged against him. “We’re being hunted.” And that knowledge had the fury ripping through his skin.

Two coyote shifters were already down—they’d been the welcome party that had launched at him with claws and teeth. They’d managed to make him bleed, spilling his blood all over the foyer, but he’d made sure they paid for those bites.

The fingers of Nicole’s left hand curled around his arms. “It’s you,” she whispered, and he tilted his head so that he could see the fear in her eyes. “They’re not stopping until they get your blood.”

They’d already gotten all he felt like giving.

“Az told me—you could die tonight.”

He nodded once. “Stay here while I hunt.” He turned away.

She jerked him back. Hard. “What the hell? Did you just hear me?” She shoved something—a gun—behind her.

Carlos probably heard her. The woman wasn’t trying to keep her voice down.

“We thought I was Az’s target, but we were wrong, Keenan! It’s you!”

He’d always been aware of that possibility. He knew Az liked to put down the Fallen who walked the earth. Sometimes, Keenan really wondered if Az was killing as ordained—or killing whoever he wanted.

But then he’d fall, too. And Az hadn’t fallen. He’d been sitting up at that heavenly right hand for years.

Her claws bit into his hands. “You’re not dying for me.”

So fierce, his vampire. He brushed back her hair and let his palm linger on her face. “You worry for nothing. Az is trying to frighten you.” He could feel the eyes on him, watching in the darkness. Another strike would come soon. He needed to get Nicole back inside. As long as she was inside, any attackers had to go through him in order to get her.

“Yes, well, he succeeded. I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you!”

Footsteps shuffled to the right. Had to be a human on the street. A shifter wouldn’t make an obvious sound like that. Shifters could retreat and attack in perfect silence.

The game of hide and seek was getting old.

“The coyote is out there,” he told her, “and I’m not letting him get away.” Because if he did, there would just be another attack. Carlos wasn’t going to ever back off. Not until he got what he wanted.

My blood.

Too bad for Carlos … Keenan only planned to bleed for his vamp.

Her gaze trekked over his shoulder and scanned the darkened street. “You mean we’re not letting him get away.”

“Nicole …”

“We’re not.” Said fiercely and the woman was so beautiful. Pale skin. Dark hair. Lips that he wanted beneath his mouth. Her gaze blazed into his. “I’m not letting you risk yourself out here. You’re the target. I’m going to be watching your back.”

Because of Az. Az had sent her racing into the darkness. You’ll pay, Az. Soon enough.

“Then let’s get hunting.” Before the dawn came and weakened her.

He kissed her, one fast kiss, because he wanted to taste those lips. Then he turned into the night.

They hadn’t gone far, though, before Nicole stopped him. He heard the swift inhale she gave before she whispered, “Blood.”

He stared down at the dark cement and saw the tiny drops. “Maybe the bastard is hurt.”

“No, that’s human blood.” She hurried forward. “There’s more. It’s—”

A trail.

So the coyote was playing dirty. Carlos was willing to sacrifice a human in order to bring in his prey. Not really surprising.

They followed that trail—light drops at first, then deeper spatters on the ground. Fresh blood. The humans they brushed by had no clue about the blood they stepped in as they stumbled down the street.

Dawn would come soon. Even in New Orleans, the party was slowing down now. Keenan needed to find his prey before Carlos came at him again.

Hunt or be hunted.

Only two choices here on earth.

The rounded a corner. Jackson Square waited before them, heavy with dark shadows. Just beyond the Square, the triple steeples of the St. Louis Cathedral pointed high into the moonlit sky.

When Nicole tried to advance, Keenan stopped her. “Sweet … you don’t have to face what’s waiting.”

Not just Carlos, but her past.

She glanced his way and he was surprised by the hard edge that glinted in her gaze. “Yes, I do.”

Then she was gone, snaking ahead of him and maneuvering easily through the darkness. She knew this place, knew every turn, and he followed behind her. Staying close, Keenan never let her stray more than a foot away from him.

“The trail goes inside,” she whispered as she stared up at the stark turrets. His gaze followed hers, and he couldn’t help but remember another night, one stained with more blood.

Slowly, Nicole crept forward, her eyes now on the crosses that adorned the top of the cathedral. “Why did he bring his bait here?” She whispered. “He can’t know …”

No, the bastard shouldn’t know what this place meant to them, not unless someone had tipped him off.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the cathedral’s left-side door. She pulled lightly and the air rasped from her lips. “It’s not locked tonight.”

He caught her hand. “Don’t go in.” He didn’t know what waited but with all that blood … death.

But she shook her head. “I should have gone in long ago.”

Then she went into the cathedral, and he followed instantly, not about to lose her to anything or anyone.

Their feet shuffled over the marble tile. The candlelights and the chandeliers gleamed, though Keenan knew the cathedral should have been shut down at this hour. Images of angels and saints stared back at him. Seeming to weigh him. Judging.

“There.” Her whisper. The blood led into the wooden confessional booth.

For Carlos to have left a body here, dumped in a church—you’ll regret this move, I promise.

Some sins truly were never forgiven.

Nicole’s head tilted to the left. “I hear …” She gasped and raced forward. She yanked open the confessional door and a scream echoed through the cathedral.