At least, they had until old Jeff had gotten good and drunk one night and let a sweet little newbie vamp with a good ass and a bad bite get too close.
The urge to f**k could blind even the smartest hunters.
Sam’s gaze tracked over the dead man. No wound that he could see. Not on the outside, anyway. But if Big Mike had died the way he suspected, the marks would be on the inside.
Smiling, Sam rose. So the Fallen had come into more of his old powers. Good. Keenan would probably be afraid now, and worried that every person he touched he’d kill.
Sam sauntered back to his truck.
Keenan should be afraid. Very afraid.
That was why Keenan would be so glad to see him. Ah, yes, the Fallen was just where he wanted him to be.
My game, my rules.
“Nicole!” Keenan yelled her name as he jumped from the motorcycle. Smoke rose, curling in the air above the dying fire. Blood stained the ground, but Nicole wasn’t there.
“Nicole!” His voice thundered out as he ran up the porch steps. Maybe she was inside. Maybe Mike had just been messing with his head.
Yes, she was inside. Probably cleaning her wounds or getting ready to rip into him for leaving her behind. She was inside. She had to be.
Two minutes later, he realized she was gone. All that remained was an empty house and a blood trail that led to the woods.
He stared at those woods. Had she gone chasing someone? He sucked in a breath and ran into the brush, trying to follow the light spray of blood that he saw on the ground. He shouted her name as he ran, afraid that he’d be too late.
Stay away from her, Az.
He hadn’t fallen just to lose her.
The woods cleared up ahead. An old, red dirt road cut through the trees. Fresh tire tracks had sank into the dirt.
The blood trail disappeared.
Gone.
No, not gone. Taken.
And he’d killed the one man who could lead him to her. Mike had told him … He’ll kill her.
Who the hell was “he”?
Nicole was strong. She wouldn’t be easy prey.
But she’d been bleeding and covered in blisters and burns. His head tilted back as he glared up at the blue sky. The sunlight would work against her.
If she could just survive until night, until he found her …
Stay alive.
Because if she died, there would be hell to pay.
He whirled and began running back to the house. Mike might be dead, but two of those bastards in his gang had survived. He’d find them and they would talk—or they’d die, too.
His legs pumped as he ran faster, faster, and the trees passed him in a blur.
Is she hurting?
He burst out of the woods—and found Sam lounging against the side of a shiny black pickup truck.
Sam lifted a brow when he saw Keenan. “Everything okay?”
He didn’t hesitate. He ran right for Sam. The Death Touch never worked on anyone with pure angel blood. So when he drove his fist into Sam’s stomach, he didn’t worry about killing the guy. It would take a lot more than a punch to kill Sam, but the jerk could be killed.
Sam took the punch and didn’t even flinch. “Ah … good to see you, too, Keenan.”
Keenan grabbed his shirt. “Where is she?”
Sam blinked at that. “Uh, which she?”
His back teeth ground together. “Nicole.”
“Oh, yeah. Your little vamp.” Now his brows lowered as his gaze darted toward the house. “I thought she was inside.”
“No.” If Sam didn’t know where she was, Keenan was wasting his time. He thrust the guy back and jumped on the motorcycle.
But Sam was there beside him, moving with his enhanced speed, a speed that hadn’t returned fully to Keenan, not yet.
“Got the touch back, don’t you?” Sam asked and he was smiling.
Keenan revved the engine.
“I saw the little playdate you had with Big Mike out on the highway.” Sam’s appreciative whistle rose even over the howl of the motorcycle. “Playing rough, are you?”
Big Mike.
His head turned, slowly, and red began to flicker over his vision once more. “How did you know I was out here?”
Sam shrugged. His eyes didn’t waver. “I knew the minute you bought this place. Little happens in New Orleans that I don’t know about.”
Time seemed to slow down. No—maybe he just moved real fast. Because in the next second, the motorcycle was on the ground and he had his hands around Sam’s throat.
Sam was still smiling. “Gettin’ your speed back, too.”
“Little happens that you don’t know about?” His voice was a growl, all he could manage right then with the fury choking him. “You knew Big Mike, you knew where I was hiding with Nicole—you knew it all! Dammit, where is she?”
“Easy.” Sam wasn’t fighting back, yet. “I don’t—”
“It was a trap! They came at her with bullets and fire while she was weak. When I went after them—”
Sam knocked his hands away. “You shouldn’t have left your girl. You never leave her behind, not if you—”
“They tried to kill her! They weren’t getting away!”
Sam nodded. “Still don’t have control, do you? I thought … after six months … maybe you’d be used to the emotions by now.” He rocked back on his heels. “Guess not.”
“Where is she!”
Sam stabbed a finger in Keenan’s chest. “Get control. Emotions are shit. They screw with your head. Fear. Anger. Need. Lust. Humans are born with those feelings, and they still drive them crazy. What do you think they do to beings who’ve been without ’em for centuries?”
They tear me apart.
Like Nicole’s captor was tearing her apart?
The wind whipped against his face.
“Control,” Sam snapped out. “If you lose it, you’ll be no good to her.”
“I have to find her!”
“Then let me help you.” Sam’s voice seemed so sincere. The guy was very good at controlling his image, Keenan knew that. “I know where Mike’s men would run. I can show you where they went to lick their wounds.”
“If she dies …”
“That will really suck, won’t it? You fell to save her, and those bastards up there still take her from you.” Sam’s voice thickened. “ ’Bout time someone showed those ass**les that they aren’t the only game in town. ’Bout time they realized even precious angels can suffer.”
Keenan swallowed his rage. Control. “Take me to them.”