Angel Betrayed (The Fallen 2)

And, of course, he was getting caught right in the middle of hell.

“Find out who’s bothering her,” he ordered because he hadn’t asked specifics from her. If he’d found out anymore—hell, he would have killed the bastards himself, and that just couldn’t happen. He had an angel’s ass to kick first. Pleasure kills would have to wait for later. “Make sure she doesn’t have to worry again.”

Then his debt would be paid because he did owe Seline. No one had ever tried to save him before. Mostly because he didn’t need saving. But she’d tried, in her way.

So despite his words, he’d help her and maybe one day when the blood washed away, he’d look her up and let sexy Seline thank him properly.

Cole nodded and eased back into the crowd. The demon was probably off to talk to some of the other waitresses so he could get a fix on Seline and her trouble.

Sam waved off Marcus and headed for the exit. He’d already given Marcus orders earlier. If the guy caught so much as a whisper about Azrael, Sam would know.

He shoved open the club’s back door and inhaled the lingering scent of jasmine in the air. Seline’s scent. His c**k tightened as he remembered the soft silk of her lips beneath his. She hadn’t tasted like innocence. No, Seline, the woman who’d stripped and danced on his stage at Temptation, revealing and then instantly concealing her body, was no innocent.

She’d tasted like sin, and sin sure was an aphrodisiac to him. “Help me!”

The cry had his head whipping to the left, and Sam saw the flash of Seline’s long legs as she ran down the alley. Seline wasn’t alone. A man in a black ski mask was hauling ass after her, and the bastard had a knife.

The knife lifted and the glinting blade plunged toward Seline’s back.

No.

Sam moved in an instant, using the preternatural speed of his kind. He rushed across the pavement, and his body slammed into Seline’s. The knife drove into his shoulder even as he and Seline tumbled onto the ground.

Kill. Destroy.

Sam shoved up and barely felt the pain from his wound. He turned for the attacker, ready to rip the man’s soul right out of his body.

“Sam!” Seline grabbed him and held tight. Footsteps thudded as the attacker raced away, but Sam’s eyes were on Seline. She stared up at him. Her brown eyes swam with tears. “How did you . . . you’re bleeding!”

Blood ran down his arm in deep rivulets. The jackass had left the knife in Sam’s shoulder.

The guy was also gone. The squeal of tires grated in Sam’s ears. Fuck. Clenching his teeth, Sam reached up and yanked the knife out of his flesh. The blade had sunk straight into the bone.

You’ll pay for that.

Blood spattered around him as he yanked at the knife, and Seline yelled, “No, don’t, you’ll make it worse!”

Doubtful. She didn’t understand who she was dealing with. “The wound will heal.” In a few moments, the blood flow would stop, and the skin would mend on its own.

He tossed the knife to the ground and glanced down at her. Seline’s thick blond hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her face was pale, too pale, and fear filled her dark eyes.

Definitely pay.

He brushed her hair back, careful not to get any blood on her.

“I thought . . .” She wet her lips with a quick swipe of her pink tongue and whispered, “I thought you didn’t care.”

You don’t want to make me care.

Seline wasn’t a classically beautiful woman. Not porcelain perfect.

But she was sexy. Damn sexy. She had full, pouting lips and her deep, dark bedroom eyes were surrounded by thick lashes. A sweet little mole rested near the corner of her mouth—he wanted to lick that spot. Her cheeks were high and her chin a little sharp, giving her a slightly exotic look.

And the woman’s body . . . when he’d seen her on the stage at Temptation, he hadn’t been able to look away. Her legs stretched for miles and her br**sts were high, round, and perfect. The woman’s body was built for sin, and she could probably make a man beg.

If he were the begging type.

Sam never had been.

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and hoisted Seline to her feet.

“No, your arm—”

He closed his fingers around her shoulders. “I want a name, Seline.”

She blinked those sexy eyes at him.

“Tell me who that bastard was, and he’s dead.” Simple fact. The jerkoff had attacked her and left a knife in Sam’s flesh. The guy wouldn’t be among the breathing for long. Sam would make sure of that fact. He’d also make sure the man’s final moments hurt. The days of Death being kind were long gone. Only cruelty remained.

“I-I don’t know, I didn’t see his face—”

Right. He’d noticed the mask. Sam sucked in a deep breath. “You didn’t have to see his face. You knew someone was coming for you. And you know who sent the guy.”

She shivered and hunched her shoulders. She stood tall, probably an inch or two under six feet, but despite her curves, her bones had a delicate feel. “I just want it to end.”

“It will,” he promised. Death was his business, and his business was booming.

She looked at him from beneath the thick veil of her lashes. “You said you wouldn’t help me.” Her breath hitched a bit, and his hands tightened on her.

“I lied.” Like it had been the first time.

She swallowed, and her lips began to curl.

“The name. ”

Seline threw her arms around him and held on tight. Her body shook against his, and her br**sts crushed into his chest.

The scent of jasmine rose over the stench in the alley and filled his nose.

“Thank you.” She whispered the words against his neck. Her lips brushed over his skin, and Sam was pretty sure he felt the quick lick of her tongue against him. His body stiffened with sensual tension. When she’d moved, his hand had shifted automatically. His palms now rested on the curve of her ass. What a sweet ass it was.

But now wasn’t the time for sex. It was killing time, and he could kill a man as easily as he could caress a lover.

After all, death only needed one touch.

“Please, Sam, get me out of here.” Fear had her voice shaking. “I’ll tell you everything.” She eased back and tilted her head up as she gazed at him. “Just take me to your place. Get me out of here.”

Not what he wanted. The thirst for blood and vengeance was too strong then, but he didn’t know what kind of attack to expect. The sooner he got her secured, the sooner he’d have his fun. Sam nodded and felt the tightening in his shoulder. The wound was already closing. The attacker would have to do much better next time. He wasn’t easy prey.