Angel Betrayed (The Fallen 2)

“Come on.” Sam kept her hand in his as he pulled her to the edge of the alley. He was careful to keep his body positioned in front of hers. If another attack came, he’d be ready.

“How did you move so fast?” Her quiet question whispered out after a pause. “You were so far away . . .”

Speed was only one of his many gifts. “I’m not your average demon.” He opened the door of his black Jag and waited for her to crawl inside.

“No,” her soft voice answered him, “you’re not.”

Sam slammed the door as his gaze swept the street. Down the road and to the left, a black van waited in the shadows.

He stared at that van; then he grinned.

Come and get me, bastards. He almost crooked his finger in invitation.

Because he wasn’t a dumbass demon, and he could smell a f**king setup a mile away. Even when the setup was wrapped in the scent of jasmine and wore a pretty smile.

Not that easy to get to me.

He climbed in the car and gunned the engine.

Time for the real games to begin.

With a flick of his fingers, he locked the door and sealed Seline inside with him.

“He took the bait,” Alex Graham said as he yanked the ski mask off his face. “The blind fool fell for her just like all the others have done.”

So it would seem.

Rogziel eased back in the seat and watched the Jag’s red taillights disappear around the corner. The growl of the engine echoed down the street. He had waited so long for this moment, and now, finally, Sammael’s punishment was at hand.

It only seemed fitting that a demon would be the one to send the Fallen to hell.

Sammael had always had a weakness for women and for sin. By the time Seline was done with him, there’d be nothing left of his old friend.

Good.

Ready to burn again, Sam?

Because the fire was sure ready for him. Those flames had been waiting, and it was time for Sammael to face his punishment.

Hell.

CHAPTER TWO

Seline knew where Sam lived. She’d staked out his place shortly after arriving in New Orleans. So when he drove right past the exit leading to the Quarter, her palms began to sweat.

“You never told me the guy’s name.” Sam’s voice was quiet, but held an edge that had her tensing in the leather seat.

“J-John Moorecroft.” She thought the stutter in her voice was a good addition. Because a woman who’d nearly been stabbed would be stuttering and trembling, right?

He glanced her way. “John Moorecroft is in prison. His drug ring was busted up six months ago, and the guy is rotting in a cell because he took out a cop during the bust.”

All true, and all facts that had made the New Orleans news. Yet there were details that hadn’t made the papers . . . “He might be in jail, but he’s still got plenty of power.” She licked her lips. “He took out a hit on me from his jail cell. Even inside, he still has men ready to jump for him.” For the right price. “You don’t cross him and get away clean.”

They were on the interstate now, and he was driving too fast. Everything passed her in a blur.

“I don’t know any other names,” she admitted, keeping her voice low. “I don’t know who came after me tonight. Probably just some guy looking to cash in on the bounty that’s on my head. I-I just want it all to end.” Her breath expelled in a rush. “How do you think the cops knew to make that bust? I was the one who tipped them off.”

“So you killed John’s friend, and turned him in?” He gave a low whistle. “Now he’s jonesing for your death.”

Not like it was the first time. “I was . . . working at a bar.” The cover always worked. It was easy enough for her to get hired at places like that and to work the owners and staff. “I met a guy, his name was Philip Drew. Philip was—”

Insane. The madness had pushed to the surface so easily when he drank. She cleared her throat. “He and John grew up together. They were friends.”

The city lurked behind them now, a glittering trail of hazy lights reflected in the water. She swiped her hand along the door handle. “Where are we going?”

He glanced her way, and a faint smile curved his lips. “Don’t worry. I’m just taking you someplace safe.”

She tried a weak smile in return because his words should have been reassuring.

They weren’t.

His gaze returned to the road before them. “Do you trust me, Seline?”

No. Not even for an instant.

“I mean, you came to me, a man you don’t really know and you asked me to kill for you.”

She swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat. “I asked for your help.”

“Because I’m such a f**king helper.”

Not exactly. “Because I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”

Sam pulled off the interstate, and the car began to rush down the twisting, snaking highway that led into the swamps. There was no light here. Just darkness and predators waiting.

Uneasiness skated down her spine. The plan had worked just as she’d planned, but . . .

Something’s wrong.

His low laughter filled the car. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

No, she didn’t, and that was why she was trying to play the game so carefully.

They were off the main highway now. The car bumped along a thin dirt road. The headlights cut a path through the black night.

Finally, finally, a light appeared up ahead. The hunched trees parted and a graveled drive waited. “I’m going to run a check on everything you told me,” Sam said. The Jag braked in front of a faded antebellum home. Weathered, but still strong against the swamp. And what the hell was that place doing out there, with its lights shining? It looked creepy. Like something out of a horror movie. Being what she was, Seline should love horror movies.

She couldn’t stand them. There were enough monsters in her real life. She didn’t want to sit and watch them terrorize people in a movie theater.

“Run the check,” she said, her voice too soft.

He killed the engine, and she immediately became aware of the chirping of what sounded like a hundred insects. She knew gators and snakes waited in the shadows. Those were the predators she didn’t fear, well, not as much as the Others that could wait in the night.

Sam turned his head toward her. She could only see darkness when she looked at his eyes. “If I find out you’re lying to me, if this is all some kind of setup . . .”

She didn’t flinch. “I need your help. There’s a death warrant on me.”