The hound turned its head toward Rogziel. The beast’s lip curled back to reveal bloody teeth. Took a good bite out of Sammael. No wonder the beast caught the Fallen’s scent so easily.
But then the hound leapt up—and raced away from the parking lot. Away from Azrael.
Impossible. “No! Come back!” The hound couldn’t get too far away or it would—
Vanish. The hound disappeared in a flash of smoke. The hound could only take substance when it was near a punishment angel. Otherwise, it was just a nightmare with no power or form.
The roar of an engine reached Rogziel’s ears. He spun back, too late. Az plowed a motorcycle right into him. Rogziel flipped and slammed into the ground. Az drove away, spewing gravel in his wake.
Rage burned in Rogziel’s gut, dark and ugly, twisting within him. They will all suffer . . . they will beg for death, then hell will claim them.
When the smoke cleared, Seline was still screaming. Sam’s ears ached, and nausea rolled in his belly. The next time he bought a transport spell from Mateo, he’d make sure he read all the warning labels.
“It’s okay,” he told Seline, “you’re safe.”
She stopped screaming. Her eyes narrowed, and she slugged him.
He took the hit on the chin, figuring he deserved that one.
“You set me up!”
True. He tasted blood in his mouth. “I needed to draw out Az.”
“Well, you did, and we both almost died.” She yanked away from him. “Where the hell are we?”
Not safe. Not yet. “The spell dropped us about fifty miles away.” His lips twisted. “Mateo refers to it as his get-the-fuck-away spell.”
Maybe he’d use it again. Maybe. The spell had sure worked at getting them free from Rogziel.
Handy.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded as his gaze swept over her.
“No. It didn’t bite me.”
He frowned at her. The hound had been so close to her.
She glared right back at him. “Did you say ‘spell’? What kind of spell?”
“A transport spell.”
Her eyes slit a bit. “I don’t like spells.”
“Well, you would have liked dying even less.” They could bitch and moan all day, or they could get moving.
They were on the side of an old, dusty road. No one was to the left, no one was to the right. No one, nothing.
Seline suddenly stiffened. She glanced over her left shoulder. “Did you hear that?”
He hadn’t heard a thing. “What?”
“It sounded like . . .” She sidled a bit closer to him. “A growl.”
Fuck. Yes, that would bring them to their next order of business—right after they got out of there. “Come on.” He took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers, and started walking. Blood pumped from his wounds, but he could already feel the torn muscle and skin beginning to mend. Since he was away from the hound, he could heal.
Hellhound. Rogziel had certainly pulled out the big guns this time.
Their shoes crunched over the gravel that littered the side of the road. “You . . . left Az back there,” she said, her voice hesitant.
He grunted. “I thought he might enjoy tangling with the mutt.”
Still no sign of cars.
“But . . .” He heard the soft inhalation of her breath. “That was your chance, right? Your shot to kill him?”
His gaze slanted to her.
“You left me as bait.” Spoken without inflection. Her gaze was on the road stretching ahead. “So you could get him.”
His stomach knotted. No, that weird twist was just from the healing wounds, and not from any kind of guilt. The claws had scraped down his chest and ripped into his stomach. “I was watching you the whole time.”
She stopped walking but still didn’t look at him. “Well, you sure took your sweet time coming to save me!”
“I got shot!” Four times. “I came as soon as I could.” As soon as the human died. But the guy had been a sharpshooter, and it had taken a few precious moments to get touching close.
An old pickup truck rattled up the road. Yes.
“Az didn’t start that fire,” Seline said.
Her words pissed him off. “So now you’re defending him?” The truck was closing in. Sam stalked to the middle of the road. The better to stop the truck.
“He saved me.” Quiet, confused. She didn’t follow him, but instead waited on the side, looking a bit lost. “If it hadn’t been for him, I would have burned.”
His jaw clenched. “The blast threw me out. I didn’t—I didn’t leave you.” He’d been ready to race back in and fight the fire for her, but Az had beat him to the punch.
So the bastard had done one good thing. Now I owe him for that.
“Why do you hate him so much?”
The rattle of the truck should have drowned out her words. It didn’t. He heard her far too clearly.
He heard her, but he just didn’t answer her.
The pickup was slowing down. Sam caught sight of the man driving. Older, thinning, gray hair, rounded shoulders.
He could almost smell the fear rolling off the guy. But then, the man’s truck was being blocked by a blood-soaked Fallen. Smart folks would be afraid in that situation.
“Az told me what you did.” Seline’s voice was so quiet. “He said you just . . . slaughtered. That it was why you fell.”
Fury spiked, but Sam lifted his hands and focused on the driver. Az, dammit, you always twist the truth so well.
“He said you fell because you killed—you killed and you wouldn’t stop.”
“I told you the truth already. You believe whoever the f**k you want.”
The truck’s engine idled. Their voices had been too low for the driver to hear. The driver’s side door squeaked as the man rolled down his window. “No quiero apuro, hombre.”
Sam nodded. The guy was saying he didn’t want any trouble. Too bad he’d found some.
The fellow wasn’t a demon, and he didn’t have the look of a shifter. He just seemed . . . human.
Sam eyed the truck. “I’ll give you five hundred American dollars for the truck,” he said in Spanish.
“You got the cash on you?” the guy fired right back, in English.
Yes, luckily, he did. One thing he’d learned, money talked in the human world, so Sam always made sure he was well stocked. He pulled out his wallet. The leather stuck a bit, courtesy of the fire. He waved the bills in the air. “Right here. ”