Angel Betrayed (The Fallen 2)

“Seline . . .” He inched closer to her.

The hound growled. Screw that. Sam kept closing in on her.

“You’re so sure I’m its master.” Her voice was quiet now, void of any emotion. “Let’s find out if you’re right.”

The woman obviously didn’t understand the rules about hellhounds. They had been known to bite off the hands that summoned them. They could never be fully controlled.

Which was why they were always sent right back to hell when their job was done. That was the prime rule with the hounds—always send them back fast.

The hound’s teeth snapped together.

“Easy.” Seline didn’t look worried then. She was frowning as she stared at the hound. “You’re a big, ugly bastard, aren’t you?”

The hound blinked.

Her left hand smoothed over its side. “This is gonna hurt,” Seline warned. She grabbed the bar and yanked it out. Blood gushed and sprayed into the air.

But almost instantly, the wound began to heal. Seline dropped the bar.

The hound’s thick, raspy tongue came out and licked her shoulder.

“Uh . . . let’s not do that, again, okay?” Seline said softly. This time, Sam caught the faint tremble in her voice and saw her wince. “But you’re welcome.”

The hound’s head began to lower. Subservience. Acknowledgment that she was its master.

Well, damn.

Seline glanced at Sam. “I don’t think it’s so bad. Just a big dog—”

Bullshit. Sam reached out to touch Seline’s shoulder. In an instant, the “big dog” lunged up and slammed its claws into Sam’s chest.

“No!” Seline’s snapped order.

The hound froze.

“Tell the beast to go to hell,” Sam said. He wished he understood how to send a hound back, but that was one power beyond him.

“Go to hell,” Seline told the hound instantly.

The hound didn’t vanish. In fact, the beast appeared to be getting bigger, stronger. Not good.

When they weren’t in hell, the hounds survived by drinking blood and fear. They weren’t some cute freaking pets. They were pit bulls for the devil.

But Seline was petting the thing now.

Sam risked a fast glance around the club. The stragglers were rushing for the door. Smart. But even as those folks pushed out, two familiar figures hurried forward.

Keenan and his vampire.

Keenan took one look at the hound and froze. He grabbed Nicole and tried to push her behind his back.

Fuck.

Too late. Over the centuries, hounds had developed a particular taste for vampire blood.

Seline’s hound whipped around and leapt into the air. The floor shook as the beast hurtled toward its new treat.

“No!” Seline’s shout, but this time, the beast didn’t slow. Claws swiped out and cut into Keenan’s chest, but the Fallen didn’t move.

“Run, Nicole,” he choked out, “run.”

Wrong advice. The hounds liked the chase. Keenan should know that.

Keenan grabbed the hound’s paws. Sam rushed to help him, with Seline right by his side.

With a howl, the hound shook off Keenan, and Sam saw that Nicole hadn’t run away. She started kicking and clawing at the beast. Her fangs were out, and she was screaming for the hound to get away from her angel.

Before Sam could reach her, the hound tackled her and the beast’s teeth went for her throat.

Nicole stopped screaming, but the whole room vibrated with the sudden wild rush of fury that Sam knew came from Keenan.

Sam and Keenan grabbed the hound. They dragged it off Nicole even as the hound snapped and bit.

Then Seline was there. Her hands locked around the hound’s body. “Leave her alone! Leave them all alone!” Fury hardened her words. “Just get the hell away from us. Go back to hell!”

The hound whined. Its head lowered.

Then the beast vanished in a blur of smoke.

About f**king time.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sam hadn’t been lying to her. Seline stared at her hands and realized her fingers were stained with ash.

She’d just sent a hellhound back to hell. She controlled a hellhound.

Oh, damn.

“Baby, are you okay?”

She glanced up at the voice, so deep with concern. Keenan had his vampire in his arms. Seline could see the blood pouring from the woman’s throat. Okay sure didn’t seem like the right word. More like get-me-to-a-hospital-stat.

“Drink from me,” Keenan said, his hands so gentle on the woman.

Nicole’s head sagged back weakly, and Seline glimpsed her fangs. Then those fangs sank into Keenan. He shuddered. Not with revulsion, but with what she was pretty sure had to be pleasure.

“She’ll be all right.” Sam’s voice didn’t carry any concern. “Angel’s blood—even if the angel has fallen—is incredibly strong.”

Something to remember.

“How did I send him back?” Her gaze darted to the floor. To the scorch marks and the deep grooves that the hound’s claws had left.

“Guess you just had to get mad enough,” he said. “Mad enough to let that control of yours crack.”

Crack? It had fragmented there in that last terrifying moment. If she hadn’t been able to pull the hound back, Nicole would have died in front of her. “I didn’t want more blood on my hands.” She didn’t know Nicole. Just because the woman was a vamp, it didn’t mean she deserved hell.

Who did these days?

Sirens screamed in the distance.

“Humans . . . on the way to the rescue.” Keenan said this even as Nicole continued to drink from him.

“You’ve got her?” Sam asked with a nod at Nicole.

“Always.” Keenan’s answer was immediate.

Sam’s lips twisted. “Then get her out of here. Meet up with me at dawn, at Pedro’s place.”

Keenan’s brows rose. “You trust that shifter?”

“More than most.”

Keenan nodded and carried his feeding vampire toward the back door.

Seline didn’t move. She wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. Energy still pumped through her blood. She’d taken too much when she kissed Sam, she knew she had, but he didn’t look weak.

If the hound had killed him, Sam’s death would have been on her. She straightened her shoulders. “You need to go. Get away from me. What if I accidentally bring the hound back? You just—go.”

One dark brow climbed. “And what are you going to do? Stand here and wait for the cops?”