Broken Angel (Bad Things Book 4)

  By Cynthia Eden

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are not intentional and are purely the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional.

  Copyright ©2016 by Cindy Roussos

  Cover art and design by: Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  Copy-editing by: JRT Editing

  (build 2)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Broken Angel

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Author’s Note

  About The Author

  Chapter One

  He’d found his prey.

  He’d been searching for her, looking so desperately for a very long time now—but the hunt was over. She. Was. His.

  Rayce Lovel paused just inside of the low-rent bar, a dive named Maverick’s. It was a too loud, too crowded, too smoky spot in the middle of nowhere, and it was the last place he’d expected to find his angel. But she was there, he knew it. He hadn’t spotted her yet, but he could smell her. A sweet, light scent that hung over the alcohol and cigarettes. Her scent.

  Once a werewolf got his prey’s scent, he didn’t lose it.

  He stepped into the room, and the snow fell off his shoulders. Fucking snow. He hated the cold and would have much preferred to be back in the Keys running wild on the beach. But she was there…in the wilds of Colorado, and that meant so the hell was he.

  The band kept blasting, voices kept shouting, and the smart humans near him? They got the hell out of his way, as if instinctively sensing a beast was nearby. Sometimes, humans could do that. They could feel trouble when it was close.

  Trouble was very close right then. Because he wanted his prey. He wanted Lila, and he would not be leaving there without her.

  His nostrils flared as he pulled in more of her scent. Lavender and fucking candy apples—that was what she smelled like to him. Heaven. Fitting really…considering his prey was an honest-to-God angel. And angels? They didn’t belong on earth.

  And they don’t belong with beasts.

  He went to the bar and rapped his knuckles against the faded surface. The bartender, a woman with blue-black hair and piercings in her left eyebrow, gave him a bored look. “Want something?”

  My angel. He’d been looking for her too long. The woman kept vanishing. But then…it was easy for her to disappear. Lila’s kind carried so much magic. She also carried a target on her back. A big one that was going to cause all kinds of unfortunate situations. The longer that Lila was on earth, the more dangerous she would become.

  Is it already too late for her?

  His gaze scanned the crowd once more. He didn’t see Lila’s tell-tale red hair anywhere, but he knew she was in that bar. “There a backroom in this place?” he asked the bartender.

  “What you see is what you get.” Her response was fast, clipped and also…a lie.

  Slowly now, his instincts alerted, Rayce turned his head back toward the bartender. Her pulse was beating a bit too fast at the base of her throat and her gaze had jerked away as she began to tap the countertop with her index finger. The black polish on her nail was chipped.

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Rayce murmured as he rolled back his shoulders. He was wearing a heavy black coat and the sleeves of his coat brushed against the bar top. “Why don’t we try that answer again?”

  Her stare—a shaky, pale blue—jumped to his. “You some kind of cop or something?”

  Not a human cop, no, because he didn’t usually give a shit about what the humans did. As long as they weren’t hunting his kind, he didn’t have a problem with them. But the “or something” part of her question?

  He was an enforcer, of sorts. He worked for Luke Thorne, the big, bad Lord of the Dark. Luke ruled all of the darkest, most dangerous paranormals in the world. And Rayce? Well, he was the one who hunted down the assholes who thought they could screw over the Lord of the Dark.

  Only this time, my prey is a bit different. This time…well, the hunt had turned personal for him.

  Rayce flattened his hands on the bar. “Where’s the secret room?” And what in the hell was his angel doing in there?

  The bartender backed up a step. She licked her lips. “There—there isn’t one!” Her voice cracked on the denial.

  Rayce rolled his eyes. Did he look like he was in the mood for bullshit? “You have something I want in that room. And I won’t be leaving without her.”

  Then the bartender made a mistake. She jerked her head and pointed at Rayce and he knew that she’d just gotten security zeroed in on his ass. A long sigh slid from him. “You know, we could have done this the easy way. You could have told me where the room was. You could have saved the guard coming for me a whole lot of pain. And we could have all just gotten along.” He gave a sad shake of his head. “Now, I’m going to have to knock his ass out. And I’m going to have to rip this place apart until I find what I want.” He leaned over the bar. “A word of warning, when the fight starts, you might want to duck down low.”

  Her eyes widened just as a hard hand clamped around Rayce’s shoulder.

  A snarling voice demanded, “We got trouble here? Because trouble belongs out on the street—”

  Rayce grabbed the hand that didn’t belong on his shoulder. He wrenched it around hard and fast and the fool who’d grabbed him screeched in pain.

  Then the idiot swung at Rayce with his left hand. Rayce easily dodged that blow, only to come up fast and slam his forehead into the would-be bouncer’s face. Another screech came from the fellow. And then he was screaming for help. More big, burly bouncers rushed at Rayce as the crowd starting yelling and shoving and fighting…

  That was the way of fights. They tended to spread like wildfires, and damn if the whole place wasn’t igniting around him. Fair enough. Rayce laughed. He loved a good fight. His hands fisted as he launched into the fray.

  ***

  It sounded as if all hell were breaking loose.

  Lila glanced up at the ceiling above her. It was creaking? Shaking? Both. She could hear screams and curses and the band had stopped playing.

  “What’s happening up there?” she whispered as she nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “Nothing good,” was the curt answer she got back. Hardly an enlightening response.

  Lila hunched her shoulders deeper into the coat that she wore. She had her hood up, hoping to hide as much of her face as possible. “Let’s just finish the deal so I can get out of here, okay?”

  The man across from her just grunted. He was tall and thin, almost skeletally so, with pale, pale hands. He was standing behind a wide counter and he had a large, round monocle over his right eye. He leaned down and put that monocle over the object he’d been examining.

  “How much will you pay?” she asked him, hating the tremble in her voice and wishing desperately that she could just escape that room.

  “I have to make sure it’s real before I pay anything.”

  “It’s real.” No doubt. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” Here…the basement room of a loud bar. The secret room for secret deals—where anything could be bought and
sold. Anything at all. Drugs. Weapons.

  Magic.

  “I’m supposed to believe…” he drawled, still staring at his prize, “that you just found an angel’s feather on the street?”

  No, I didn’t find it. It’s my feather, and I’m selling it to survive.

  There was another loud crash from upstairs. More shouting. A few high-pitched screams. Lila’s hands fisted right before she shoved them into her pockets. “We have to hurry.” She didn’t want to get caught in whatever was happening upstairs. She should just cut and run, but she needed this deal. It had been days since she’d eaten. And, yes, her body was different from a human’s. Even so, she still needed sustenance. Not as often, sure, but Lila needed food to survive. If she didn’t get something soon…

  “This feather is tainted.”

  Her body stiffened. “What?”

  “The angel you took this from…that angel is dangerous.” He slowly lowered his monocle and stared hard at her. “If I were you, I’d be treading very carefully around that individual. You don’t want that angel as an enemy.”

  Her heart slammed into her chest. “What are you talking about?”

  “I can see it on the feather.”

  Bull. There was nothing to see on the feather. Was he trying to scam her? The guy was a dealer—not drugs, but magic. The very dark kind. As far as Lila was concerned, he was the dangerous one. He was also her last hope.

  “This angel…this angel knows darkness.”

  Her heart kept racing too fast as she tried to ignore the noises from above.

  “I think she’s fallen.” He stared straight at her. “And I think she likes the darkness.”

  “How is she dangerous?” No, jeez. Shouldn’t have said she! I need to stop talking!

  He gave a satisfied smile. “Angels change, you know. The longer they are on earth, the more permanent that change becomes. They can evolve. Become something brand new.”

  Dust fluttered down from the ceiling. She needed to get this deal finished. “How much for the feather?”

  His head tilted. His head was completely shaved and the light gleamed off his forehead. “Do you have more feathers?”

  “I’m not talking about more right now. I’m talking about the one you’re holding, and if you aren’t making a deal, then I’m out of here.” Lila hoped that she sounded tough and no-nonsense. He didn’t need to know that her knees were shaking.

  “One thousand.”

  That was it?

  “After all, like I said…that angel is tainted.”

  She wanted to hit him. To punch him right in the face because he was—

  Right. Damn him, he’s right. I’m not supposed to want to hurt anyone. That’s not what an angel does. An angel helps. An angel loves. An angel knows kindness.

  Angels didn’t trade dark magic in dimly lit rooms.

  “Take it or leave it,” he added curtly. And then he also cast a nervous glance toward the ceiling. It actually took her a few moments to realize just why he was suddenly so nervous. He’d been fine moments before but now he was sweating a bit because…

  There’s only silence from above.

  “I…” Leave it. Leave him. Get out of here! But her stomach was in knots and she hurt from hunger. The feather had fallen out, anyway. It wasn’t as if she could do anything with it now. “I’ll take the thousand.”

  A smirk twisted his thin lips. “I knew you would.”

  Lila glared at him. Her shaking hand slid out of her pocket when he lifted a bag toward her.

  “The money’s in there, dear one.”

  She wasn’t his dear one. She wasn’t his anything. Lila took the bag, but his fingers flew out—so very pale—and locked around hers with a claw-like grip. “I’ll be wanting more,” he told her.

  Too bad because she wouldn’t be selling more. She’d use the money to keep running and she would not be returning to this little town. “There isn’t anymore,” she whispered. Lila jerked her hand free and glanced into the bag. There was plenty of money in there—a thousand dollars? Looked that way. Lots of bills. Should she count? What was the etiquette on something like that?

  “Liar, liar…”

  Her head snapped up. He had that monocle to his eye again, only this time, he wasn’t looking at the feather. He was looking through the thin glass and staring straight at her.

  “I see you,” he said as he peered at her. The eye behind the monocle had widened. “And aren’t you something special?”

  Lila shut the bag and stumbled back.

  ***

  That had been fun. Rayce smiled as he glanced around the bar. Not so crowded now. Not so loud. And not nearly as smoky. Sure, the furniture was broken. The band had grabbed their instruments and run for the door—as had most of the humans with sense. A few unconscious fools littered the floor. Hell, Rayce hadn’t even hit most of them. Just the ones who’d been dumb enough to swing at him. The rest had been battling themselves.

  Humans. Didn’t they get it? If you weren’t strong enough to win the battle, then you shouldn’t start the fight.

  He sauntered back to the bar and cleared his throat.

  The bartender slowly rose from her hiding position. He was glad she’d taken his advice to duck.

  “Hi, there.” Rayce flashed her a smile but made sure not to reveal any hint of fang. He’d done a good job of holding his beast back during the skirmish. A little more bloodshed, though, and his wolf would be out and looking for his howling good time. “About that secret room…”

  She lifted her hand and pointed to the door marked “Employees Only.” Ah, yes, figured that would be the one.

  The bartender licked her lips. Her voice was weak as she said, “Go in there and then…then pull back the curtain on your right. You’ll find stairs waiting.”

  He’d also better find an angel or he’d be seriously pissed.

  Rayce stalked forward and kicked open that “Employees Only” door. It flew back and slammed into the wall. His gaze jerked to the right. Ah, there were the curtains. He stilled a moment, pulling in scents—lavender and candy apples. I’ve got you. His angel was close. He rushed forward, yanked open that curtain and found another door waiting. He started to kick it open, too, but it flew inward right at that moment, wrenched open from the inside, and he found himself staring straight into a pair of wide sky-blue eyes. Eyes that he knew he would never, ever be able to forget.

  Eyes that belonged to an angel.

  Lila.

  His claws shot from his fingertips, a primal response because his beast had found her. Finally.

  Lila wore a big, engulfing coat, and a hood hid her red hair from his view. Her heart-shaped face seemed thinner than before, and dark shadows lined her gorgeous eyes.

  She stared at him in shock and her lips—unpainted and full—opened in surprise. “You.”

  He smiled at her. “Did you miss me?”

  She blinked and confusion flashed across her pretty face.

  Because I fucking missed you.

  He’d met his angel in the middle of hell. She’d been held captive, tortured by a madman named Simon Lorne. Simon had been fixated on one twisted goal—bringing his dead wife back to life. That bastard had captured Lila and kept her caged for far too long. Then he’d used his knife on her. He’d cut into her wings, determined to use her magic in order to somehow resurrect the dead.

  Rayce had found Lila in that hell-hole. He’d helped her to escape but then…Then she escaped from me, too. She left me, and I need her back.

  Because the angel had marked him, and Rayce was very afraid that mark went soul-deep.

  “Don’t think we got introductions before,” he murmured. “I’m Rayce.” No, there had been no time for formal introductions. There had only been terror. Danger. And then she’d been gone.

  “I…know you.” Her eyes widened even more. “I’m Lila—” But her words ended in a scream because Lila had just been jerked back, hard and fast. She seemed to tumble down the stairs even as
he roared her name in fury.

  Because, yes, he knew her name. He’d tried to learn every fucking thing he could about her since their first desperate meeting. Obsessed? Hell, yes, he was.

  And he also wasn’t about to let someone take his prey. He bounded down the stairs after her, his claws still out and his fangs bursting in his mouth. Lila was at the bottom of those stairs, fighting against the two men who’d grabbed her. Her hood fell back, revealing the dark red of her hair even as one of those bastards shoved a knife at her throat.

  Oh, hello, fool. Did you just ask for death? A growl broke from Rayce’s throat as he charged down those stairs.

  The men holding Lila froze. One was tall and thin with a shaved head. The other was broad and muscled, with dark hair and meaty hands. The dark-haired bastard was holding tightly to Lila and one thick hand had a knife at her throat. “This doesn’t concern you, asshole,” he spat at Rayce. “Get back up the stairs and walk away while you still have the chance.”

  Rayce’s gaze slid to Lila’s face. She was afraid. He hated that. Her scent changed when she was frightened. Not so sweet. Not so tempting. And he didn’t like the scent of fear on her. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

  The guy with the shaved head put some kind of half-eye glass thing up to his right eye and peered at Rayce. Then the fellow swore and started backing up.

  “The woman you’re holding very much concerns me,” Rayce continued. He lifted his hands and let the two men see the claws that had broken from his fingertips. “Because she’s mine.”

  The thin guy with the eye glass shouted, “He’s a werewolf! I see his beast! Leave her—let’s get the hell out of here!”

  Then the dick with the knife was shoving Lila at Rayce. Shoving her and cutting her in the same instance. Lila gave a sharp cry of pain as she stumbled into Rayce’s arms. He caught her and held her tight even as fury burned in his blood. The bastard cut her. He cut her.

  “You’re okay,” he said, trying to make his voice soft for her and absolutely failing. His words were guttural, more animal than man, and the hands that held her were too hard. But he made sure his claws didn’t so much as nick her skin as he tilted up her chin, wanting a better view of her neck and the damage that had been done to her.