But Tomas didn’t carry that scent any longer, and Sam wasn’t sure where the guy was or even if Tomas was still living.

The threat was close, he knew that. Tomas might have escaped. He hoped the guy had. But either way, it was time to spring his trap.

So he walked away from Seline. He left her open and vulnerable in that unsecured motel room because he knew Mateo had spoken the truth about what he saw. The witch couldn’t lie about the visions that came from his scrying mirror.

Az was fixated on Seline, for whatever reason. Sam wasn’t the type to spend his days running, so he wasn’t going to grab Seline and race away with her.

His jaw clenched as he waited in the shadows and watched that motel.

He wasn’t running, but, dammit, he was going to use Seline as bait . . . because he had what his brother wanted.

So f**king come and get her, Az.

The bait couldn’t be more tempting. Now he just had to wait for his bastard brother to make his move.

Then I’ve got you. And any shifter that had been dumb enough to pair up with his brother in the blood bath.

A twig snapped behind him. Sam smiled . . . trying to sneak up on me?

That wasn’t going to—

Seline heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. She was on her knees near the bed. A Bible lay on the floor. An old, worn Bible that looked as if it had been read many times. Her fingers hovered over it as the rumble faded.

Then the attack came.

The male demon flew through the air and thudded into the wall on the right. Seline jumped to her feet as the woman—Rosa—screamed.

And fled.

Seriously? She fled?

Can’t trust a demon.

Rosa jumped out of the window and hauled ass. But when Seline got a good look at the man in the broken doorway—tall, blond, strong, and with the shadowy image of black wings stretching from his body—she thought about running, too.

But in the next instant, Az was in front of her, and Seline knew that she wasn’t getting away.

Okay, Sam. Now’s the time for you to haul that sorry hide of yours out here.

Because she knew a setup when she was shoved into one. She wasn’t stupid, and she’d gotten pretty good at reading a Fallen’s twisted truth.

She threw up her hands and sent a burst of power right at Az. “Don’t touch me!”

Her power slammed into him, and he stumbled back. Right. Take that. She truly wasn’t weak. If folks wanted to be dumb and think she was . . . their funeral.

She blasted him again. Again. He retreated a few clumsy steps. A furrow appeared between his brows, and his arm lifted.

“I said, don’t touch me!” Another blast of power. Harder. Stronger. Az hit the floor this time.

Her hands were shaking. Sam sure needed to hurry the hell up.

Because Az was already rising again. He stood on his feet, stared right at her, and said, “Help me. ”

She blinked. “What?” Her hands were still up in the air.

“Help . . . me.” His blue gaze burned with intensity. His hand lifted, but it was in a beseeching gesture, not one that looked like an attack move.

“You’re here to kill me,” she whispered, not taking a step toward him. Did she really look gullible?

He shook his head. “Here . . . followed . . . to protect you.”

She needed a weapon more powerful than, um, herself. Hurry, Sam. Just where was he?

“Woke up . . .” Az rubbed his head. “Didn’t know who I was.” The words came stronger. “Didn’t know where.” His hand waited between them, still open to her. “Then you saved me.”

Technically, she’d been about to serve him up to Sam, but Seline didn’t bother to point out that pesky detail. “You’ve been killing angels.”

Again he shook his head. “I haven’t killed anyone.”

The crazy thing was that she actually wanted to believe him. Huh. Maybe she wasn’t so good at understanding angels and their half-truths.

“I didn’t even know my own name,” Az told her, “not until you said it.” And she remembered the confusion in his eyes.

But she also remembered the fire. “Nice try, jerk. But you burned me in that warehouse.”

“Not me.” He shook his head. “I didn’t stir the fire.”

“Then who did?”

The thunder rumbled again. Louder. Closer.

“Help me, and I’ll give you anything,” he whispered.

“Help you? How am I supposed to help you?” The delusional, psychotic angel wanted her help. Figured. Sometimes, she felt like she had a beacon for crazy. That would explain Rogziel.




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