No, no, it wouldn’t. “I don’t want vengeance against Sam!” Sure, making Rogziel suffer through another very painful death was near the top of her to-do list, but Sam? No. He’d fought to save her. He shouldn’t suffer.
She could still hear his tormented screams in her mind. He’d been so desperate to save her.
The hound launched. Its teeth sank into Sam’s arm.
Sam didn’t make a sound.
“You can’t kill the hound,” Uriel said, and for someone without emotions, the words sure sounded like a taunt.
“We can sure as hell slow the thing down.” Now this was from Azrael. He had a knife in his hands. He jumped forward and drove that knife into the hound’s side.
The beast’s howl . . . hurt her.
Seline gasped. She saw the hound’s gaze turn to her. It looked lost, confused.
“Sammael,” Uriel snapped.
Seline tried to push toward the hound.
Sam blocked her and turned back to face the beast. The hound slashed him. Deep slashes that cut into his chest. Slashes that came too close to his heart.
Seline shoved Sam out of her way—and, wow, Sam hurtled into the air. She guessed being a punishment angel came with a strength bonus.
The hound stared at her with its mouth open, those deadly teeth dripping blood, and it took all of Seline’s willpower not to turn and run.
Claws at my throat. Teeth slicing. Digging into my flesh. Sam! Sam!
Sam was on his feet. He raced toward the hound. The hound dug its paws into the ground and prepared to leap at her Fallen.
“Stop!” Her bellow.
Everyone froze. Everyone, even Uriel.
The hound’s head turned to her. Seline walked toward the beast, one slow step at a time. She held out her hand, and her fingers only trembled a little. “Easy.” Please don’t eat me. Been there, done that, and don’t want to do it again.
The hound lowered its head and whined.
This hound was smaller than the one that had, ah, killed her. Deep scars marked its body. So many wounds. So many deaths.
Was the hound the evil one? Or was it the hound’s master?
Like a pit-bull. Trained to attack. But maybe, maybe, the beast could be more.
“Protect.” The word came out stronger than she’d anticipated. Seline lifted her hand, and her fingers didn’t shake any longer. “Protect Sammael,” she ordered her hound. Not prey. “Protect him . . . always.”
The hound’s head swiveled between her and Sam. “Not prey. Not him,” she said.
The hound eased forward and licked her fingers.
He’s not prey, and you’re more than a monster.
“Good,” she whispered. Because there was good in the hound, she could feel it, struggling against the darkness that seemed to wrap so heavily around the beast.
Right then, the hound almost reminded her of . . . Sam.
Sam who stared at her with the eyes she loved. Black, not angel blue, because that darkness swirled too strong in him. Always would.
“You can’t do this!” Uriel reached her side and barely glanced at the hound. “Sammael is to be punished for what he did to—”
Lightning flashed from the sky, and the bolt hit right at Uriel’s feet. The scent of sulfur burned Seline’s nose.
Real emotion appeared on Uriel’s face then. Fear.
“I guess someone is pissing off the boss upstairs,” Sam said in his mocking drawl. “ ’Cause that bolt sure wasn’t aimed at me.”
Eyes wide, Uriel backed away. “One day, Sammael, you will be punished.”
The right side of Sam’s mouth hitched into a sad smile as he stared at Seline. “I already have been. I lost the only thing that made this life worth living.”
But he hadn’t lost her. She was standing right there.
“I can stay with you,” she told him. She didn’t care what Uriel might do. Sam was before her. He mattered. Her hands stroked the hound. Its fur was almost soft, once you got past the matting.
Sam’s lips parted, as if he’d speak, but then he shook his head.
“Sam, I can stay.” She knew it. Other angels had fallen. He’d fallen. She could do it, too. “We can be together.” He’d said he loved her. They could have forever.
His jaw clenched, and after a moment, he gritted out, “You don’t know what it’s like. The pain . . . I won’t ask you to suffer for me. I can’t. Never for me, understand? Never.”
“She’s already died for you once,” Uriel threw in, even as his wings flapped and he began to rise into the air. “What’s a little trip to hell between lovers?”
“No!” Sam snarled. “She won’t suffer anymore!”
Seline felt a pull then, like an energy was wrapping around her and lifting her into the sky. She fought, desperate to stay with Sam, but she couldn’t break free of that strange pull.
“Don’t fall for me!” he shouted up to her, his face stark. “Dammit, I’ll find another way! I can get redemption! I can come to you! Don’t fall for me!”
“He’ll never get redemption . . .” Uriel’s soft voice seemed to whisper right in her ear, even though he was over five feet away from her. “Some sins can’t be forgiven.”
Tears stung her eyes. She kept rising up, pulled by a force she couldn’t stop. Sam.
His burning black gaze followed her. “I will find a way, Seline! Don’t fall, promise me! Don’t!”
Then she rose too high, and she couldn’t see him—or hear him—any longer.
“He’s going to hell.”
Seline glanced up at Delia’s voice. The angel walked toward her, her steps soft on the gleaming marble floor.
“Sam met with Uriel again,” Delia told her. “Only this time, Sam didn’t cage him.”
Probably because Uriel hadn’t gotten caging close. She figured the big boss had learned from his mistake.
A soft sigh eased from Delia’s lips. “Sam wants to earn redemption.” Delia’s head tilted as she stared at Seline. “For . . . you. He wants to come back home, and it’s all because of you, isn’t it?”
Seline didn’t speak. Hell. She didn’t want Sam in hell.
“Uriel stripped the skin from his back.” Delia whispered this. “It was the first step in Sammael’s punishment.”
Her breath rushed out as horror filled her. “Why?”
“Because that’s where the wings once were, so the flesh is more sensitive to pleasure or to pain. Uriel wanted Sam to feel maximum pain.”