“You were under compulsion, you didn’t—”
“I-I ... liked the blood.” This was the darkest part of her confession. Her gaze dropped to the hands that balled the sheets. “I liked the rush of blood, the power. I wanted to stop. I knew it was wrong. I knew I was killing them and that voice was in my head, pushing me ... but I liked the blood.”
And that was her shame.
“You’re a vampire.”
Uh, yes, she knew that.
“Nicole ...” He sighed out her name. “You’re supposed to like it.”
“Because vamps like the blood so much, that’s why they kill.” Why she’d had to fight her urges. “The schoolteacher I was ... the woman who always got in by ten on a work night, she wouldn’t have—”
His fingers curled over hers. “Why do you keep talking as if she’s someone else?”
Her gaze lifted to his. Why couldn’t he see? “She was someone else. She was someone good.” She’d tried to be, anyway. Volunteering her time in afterschool programs. Donating canned goods for the homeless. Recycling for goodness’ sake. That woman had been good.
Not a killer.
Not a monster who lusted for blood. Who fought. Killed. Who licked her lips as she stood over a dead man and thought—
More.
No wonder the dreams wouldn’t stop. “That woman died in an alley,” she told him, holding his stare. Even if she hadn’t died then, she wouldn’t have made it through the year.
His hand skimmed down her arm. Slowly, his warm fingers rose to her chest and pressed over her heart. “If she’s dead, then why do I feel her heart beating?”
“I’m not the same person anymore. The things I did—” Not just the killing. But with Connor ...
Her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m not the same.”
The warmth of his hand seeped into her skin. “You couldn’t be the same and keep surviving.”
She cracked open her eyes.
“The bloodlust is always strongest at first.” He rose, pushing up to sit beside her now. “I’ve seen it drive some crazy. They’d lose control and turn on anyone who came near.”
Nicole remembered that first, desperate hunger. The bite that she’d given the cop who’d come to her aid. “Yes.” She’d felt crazy then.
“You didn’t kill the cop you attacked.”
She shook her head. “It was a near thing. I ... couldn’t stop.” She never wanted to feel like that again. So hungry—the hunger an ache that burned her whole body.
“You did stop.”
Her lashes lifted fully. “Barely.” She wouldn’t let him think she was something that she wasn’t. “I didn’t have the control. If I did, I wouldn’t have ever bitten him. I wouldn’t have listened to that voice in my head—I wouldn’t have killed.”
She had to get away from him. His touch made her weak, and she was already weak enough. Nicole jumped from the bed, yanking the sheet with her. “Angels are real.” She tossed that out at him and glanced back just in time to see him blink.
“Uh, yeah, we are.”
This was the part that scared her. “I knew that—I always knew that.” She’d been a good Catholic girl after all, before.
His head cocked as he watched her.
“Angels are real,” she said again. “And demons are real. That means after this life ...” Already knew this. Always knew. Her knees locked. “After this life, there isn’t going to be any sunshine and paradise waiting for me.” Maybe if Keenan had taken her soul that long-ago night, but now ...
He stared back at her. Didn’t deny her words.
No.
She choked down the very real fear in her throat. “I want a chance to make it up.” She sounded crazy, so what else was new? “I don’t want Az to take me, not until I’ve had a chance to make it up.”
He climbed from the bed and didn’t bother covering with a sheet. “You can’t bring back the dead.”
He’d know.
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “And Az isn’t taking you anyplace.”
Nicole could only shake her head. “Why?”
Keenan blinked at that. “Because you’re not ready to go, you don’t want—”
“No.” Her head shook again, fast, as her hair whipped around her face. “Why does it matter to you? Why do you care what happens to me?”
He gave another slow blink, then said, “I don’t know.”
Well, great. She turned away from him and grabbed for her clothes. Not like she’d expected some big declaration or anything. The guy didn’t know her, he hadn’t—
He fell for you.
Obviously, that was bull. She yanked on her panties and shoved into her bra.
“What I said ... it angered you?”
Her lips pressed together as she snagged her jeans. Jeans he’d bought for her. “It confuses me.” Okay, that was a lie. Half-lie. He confused her and he made her damn angry.
She spun back to him, her shirt gripped in her hands. “You lost everything, you gave it all up, and you don’t even know why.”
I wasn’t worth it. The words just wouldn’t come out of her mouth. She wanted to say them, but couldn’t. She’d told him about her crimes, her needs. He should realize the truth for himself.
Maybe he did. Her shoulders slumped and her chin dipped. Maybe ...
“For over two thousand years, I never felt anything.”
That had her head whipping up.
His eyes stared right at her, but Keenan didn’t actually seem to see her. “I saw babies born, parents die, wars, weddings, happiness, life. But I never felt a thing.”
His words were so cold she shivered.
“I only knew touch ...” He lifted his hand and stared at his palm. “When I killed. And then, there was no warmth in the bodies. I took the warmth away before I even touched them.”
His hand fisted.
Silence.
What could she say? “Keenan ...”
“I wanted more than that.”
Seemed only fair.
“Humans had more. Even the Other had more—and they were supposed to be the mistakes.”
Was that what she was now?
“Angels were created for a purpose. To protect. To guide. But not to feel.” His fist fell. “No sorrow. No pain. And no happiness either. Just ... duty. Just ... nothing.”
He stepped toward her. “I wanted more,” he said again. “I didn’t even realize it at first, but with every soul, I just—wanted more.”
Wanting. Didn’t he realize that was a form of feeling? Maybe the other angels hadn’t felt any emotions, but he had, and they’d driven him to the edge.
No, they’d driven him to fall.
“With you, I decided to take more.” His fingers curled around her chin, and he tipped her head back. “Silk,” he whispered. “Smooth, soft, and warm.”
She realized he was talking about her skin.
He lowered his head and pressed a kiss against her lips. “Just as soft here, but the taste ...” His eyelashes lowered. “A little sweet, and a hint of spice.”
Oh, he could seduce her so easily. Had, actually.
His knuckles slid down her neck. “And being inside you ...” His lashes rose. “Pleasure.”
She licked her lips and wanted his mouth again.
“I was tempted, and I fell.” His knuckles were at her chest now, pushing against the edge of her bra. “Humans get to feel. They get to fuck. They get anything they want.”
Not always. Sometimes, they got nightmares they didn’t want.
“Try living with nothing for two thousand years, and then see just how hungry you are for everything.”
His mouth took hers in a hot, hard kiss that she met head-on. She knew about hunger, not just for blood, but for someone to hold you, to kiss you, to want you, no matter what.
Was she just a body for Keenan? Just a temptation? Maybe, but for her, he was becoming so much more.
A man who stayed with her through the good and bad. A man who didn’t c
are about the monster inside of her. He’d known her before, but didn’t judge her now.
She dropped the shirt. Her fingers lifted to wrap around his shoulders and hang on tight. The future wouldn’t, couldn’t matter. Now was all that mattered. Making a memory, having something to take with her when she went to the next life.
Hell.
Her mouth opened wider.
Then she heard the snarl and roar of engines. Motorcycle engines. Not too near. Not outside, not just yet.
But coming closer.
She held the kiss for a moment longer. Why hadn’t he just stayed away? I gave him a chance.
Vengeance.
Keenan lifted his mouth. “Nicole.” He breathed her name.
“Mike is coming for me.” She hadn’t wanted to kill.
“You knew he would.”
She just hadn’t expected him to find her so quickly. But a hunter like Mike would have connections, and probably eyes everywhere. “He’s coming while I’m weak.” She pressed her forehead against Keenan’s shoulder. His arms were around her and even though death was coming, she felt safe right there.
“He won’t touch you.”
Because she had, what, eight days left? Seven? Less? Az hadn’t actually said she had ten ... less than ten. Angels might not lie, but she had the feeling they might not always tell the full truth, either. Angel semantics.
“I killed his brother.” Because Grim had thought Jeff was too much of a threat. The hunter had already taken out a dozen vamps. She’d been the bait to take down the big gun. “If I were him, I’d come after me, too.” But she didn’t want to kill Mike. Stop him from killing her, yes, but kill him?
I already have enough blood on my hands. Killing him won’t get me any forgiveness.
Like there was a chance of that happening.
Mike wasn’t coming alone. She heard the growls from the other bikes.
“They can’t beat us both,” Keenan said.
No. The humans would lose. They’d die. Because even though she was weak, Keenan wasn’t.
But it wasn’t his fight.
“They’re not hurting you,” he told her and edged away.
She bent and grabbed her shirt, yanking it on as he pulled up a pair of jeans. “I wanted him to walk away.”
He laughed at that. “And you really think you’re so different from the woman you were before the bite?” His blond head shook. “Sweet, a cold-blooded killer wouldn’t care, human or no.” He turned away. “I’ll take care of them.”
“What? No, you’re an angel, your job is—”
“Death.” He yanked open the door. “The last time I hesitated, an innocent woman became a vampire.” He glanced back at her. “I won’t make the same mistake.”
Then he was gone—racing out to face the vampire hunters who didn’t want his blood.
Mine.
She ran after him because Nicole had learned—the hard way—how to fight her own battles.
If she had to do it, she’d kill Mike because he wasn’t sending her to hell.
Though it looked like she’d have to send him there.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Still got your guard dog, bitch?” Mike shouted the minute he saw Nicole step onto the wooden porch.
Keenan locked his back teeth. The human had been given every chance, but still he sought death. Humans. Didn’t they understand it really was all about free will?
Mike could have walked away ...
Instead of coming straight for death.
“You gonna hide behind him again this time?” Mike stalked closer, and then his left hand came up—a hand holding a gun. “Do it. Cause I want to see just how strong that bastard is.”
Keenan rolled his shoulders but Nicole jumped in front of him. “My fight,” she whispered to him, then she raised her voice and called out to Mike, “This is your last chance. I don’t want to kill you—”
“I want to kill you, bitch! I want to slice your throat open, rip out your heart, cut the skin right off—”
“I don’t want to,” she yelled over his threats. “But I will.” Absolute certainty. Then, voice dropping, turning mean and cold, she said, “Just like I killed your brother.”
The five men on the bikes behind Mike didn’t move. Mike’s face hardened, twisting with hate.
“This time, I’m the one who’s ready.” Mike aimed the gun at Nicole. “Ready to die, vamp?”
“You mean again?” Nicole asked.
Keenan knew that even during the day, bullets wouldn’t kill her.
She stalked toward Mike, the thud of her footsteps seeming to echo as she headed down the front stoop. “No, I’m not particularly ready to—”
He shot her.
She’d dodged to the side, so the bullet missed her chest, but Keenan heard it thud as the bullet went into her shoulder. She trembled a bit and slid back a step. But then she shook her head. “Try again.”
Keenan’s admiration for her kicked up a notch.
She glanced back and her gaze met Keenan’s for an instant. “Stay back ... my fight.”
The others didn’t get off their bikes. Didn’t make a move for their weapons. Maybe they were just there to watch the show.
He’d be sure to give them a real fine show.
Her blood was dripping on the ground.
Did she really think he was just going to stand back and watch?
His fingers began to shake, so he balled them into fists. The wind kicked up and blew against his face.
“You’re weak!” Mike snarled, that gun still up. “Can’t take much more of this before you go down.” He fired again. Missed her. Aimed. Fired.
Hit.
This one grazed her arm. Slowed her a bit. More blood flowed. She was halfway to her target.
Mike smiled. “Now!”
Then his buddies stopped watching. Their hands dove into their satchels, and they all came up with bottles.
“Burn the bitch!” Mike ordered.
They started throwing the bottles right at Nicole. She swatted them away. More bottles flew, some with burning rags in them.
No!
Not just her fight—theirs.
Keenan flew off the porch. He grabbed her in his arms and turned so that when the Molotov cocktails hit, they crashed into his back. The bottles rained down and a fire sprang at their feet.
Nicole screamed, and he saw the fire eating at her shirt.
The hunters had been prepared this time.
“Special brew, bitch! Somethin’ I picked up from a voodoo shop down here! Somethin’ to burn a vamp right to ash!”
Keenan held her tight and raced forward, shoving through the fire that circled them. Once they made it past that line of flames, they crashed onto the ground. The fire was on him, eating at his flesh, but he barely felt the pain.
Not like when I fell.
Nothing would be like that fire.
He rolled Nicole and slapped at the flames on her clothes. She was crying, thick tears rolling down her cheeks. Angry red blisters were all over her.
But his skin was already healing.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, the rage making his voice lethal. “I’ve got them.”
He’d always known some humans deserved death. Deserved to scream and beg for mercy.
He wouldn’t give mercy this time.
He kissed her cheek. Tasted her tears. The scent of blood and fire filled his nose.
“Nicole?” Fear had his gut clenching.
But she nodded. “I-I’m ... okay.” Bleeding, bloody, burning, but alive.
Until the next attack. With Az breathing down her neck, she wouldn’t survive many more hunter attacks.
And the bastards were laughing as she bled and ached.
“I’ll kill them for you.” A simple promise. Right, wrong. It didn’t matter anymore. He brushed a shaking fingertip over her cheek. “I’ll kill them.” He was on his feet. He ran toward Mike and the bastards with him.
Mike and his men were
already on their bikes, revving their engines. Trying to get away.
Mike’s motorcycle flew away in a hail of gravel. Two others followed him.
No, they wouldn’t get away.
Keenan lunged forward and caught one bastard around the neck and yanked him off the bike. The man’s head—minus helmet—slammed into the ground.
Keenan jumped on the bike. He locked his hands around the handlebars and leaned in low as the motorcycle leapt forward.
You’re not escaping.
He’d hunt the bastards down. He’d take them out.
Nicole would be safe.
The roar of his rage was the only sound he heard.
Death.
“Keenan, no!” Nicole was on her feet, her arm throbbing, her side aching, her clothes—still smoking—and she shouted as loud as she could.
But Keenan didn’t stop.
She knew he wouldn’t, not until ...
I’ll kill them for you.
Was this really what she’d done? Turned an angel into an assassin?
Her breath hissed out at the pain as she hurried to the man on the ground. She needed blood. She’d have to take his. Donating was the least the guy could do for her—he’d tried to burn her alive.
She dropped to her knees, reached for him, and realized, too late, that he was dead.
His horror-filled eyes stared up at her. His mouth was wide open while his face was frozen in a mask of pain and terror.
Her hands ran over him. No broken neck. No broken bones at all. No wounds, no blood, nothing.
But still very, very dead.
As she stared at him, trying to understand what had happened, a new scent teased her nose. Wild, musky, like an animal.
“You really are just a baby to this game, aren’t you?” A male voice asked, one with a hint of Mexico purring beneath the words. “Querida, you don’t even know what I am, do you?”
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head to the right. A man walked from the woods. His shoulders were pushed back, his pace slow and steady, and a wide grin stretched across his handsome face.
Dark hair. Dark eyes. Square jaw. Cruel lips.
A face she’d seen before.
Mexico. Carlos.
Prey that had become hunter. Nicole jumped to her feet and felt the lash of pain sweep over her. “What ... what are you doing here?” Dumb question. Like the others, he was there to kill her.