For the others who came after her … he’d make sure they would only know pain.
Az stared down at the still body of Bobby “Bo” Reynolds. Reynolds hadn’t been a particularly nice or remarkable human. Sure, he’d had a few good moments, but Bo had let bitterness lead him to vicious acts.
Now, he was just dead.
Az had been the one to shuttle Bo’s soul. He’d seen Bo’s last moments. Az had known that Bo would try to go out fighting, and he had.
Az turned away from the body. Just a shell now. Keenan was already gone with his vampire—running away from the scene of his crime without looking back once. No remorse. No guilt. Killing was becoming easier for him.
Keenan was changing. Adapting. Evolving?
Soon there would be no stopping him.
Az wouldn’t be able to ignore Keenan’s threat much longer. If he did, Az knew it could prove to be a fatal mistake.
So he flew away from the crowd. He let his wings brush through the air in powerful arcs as he sought the ones who would aid him. The coyotes were done mourning their dead. And at least they’d mourned—some Other didn’t care about those who passed.
He landed near the coyotes and touched ground close to the alpha. The alpha—Carlos was his name—tensed as his nostrils flared. The coyotes wouldn’t be able to see him, but with their enhanced sense of smell, he knew they might pick up on his presence.
He was counting on their enhanced senses to help him. Because projecting his voice and energy for too long would be a dangerous drain on his strength.
“Find Sam.” To him, his voice boomed, but to the coyotes, it was probably little more than a whisper.
Carlos tensed, then spun around in the next breath. His gaze swept the clearing.
Helping fate could be a real pain. “Find … Sammael.” He used all of his energy to blast at Carlos.
“Sammael,” Carlos repeated, voice soft and subdued.
“He’ll take you … to the Fallen.” Projecting out of his realm was nearly impossible. But, at least he was dealing with a shifter. Humans hardly ever heard the whispers, well, roars of angels.
With his strength dwindling, he left the shifter and hoped that Carlos would be successful in his hunt.
It grated that he had to leave his fate in the hands of a cold-blooded killer.
But sometimes, you couldn’t really choose your allies … or your enemies. You just had to be ready to fight, to kill, or to die.
He was ready.
Was Keenan?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sam’s place was as quiet as a tomb. The lights were off, the silence thick and deep. As soon as he walked inside, Keenan knew they were alone.
He’d taken five steps up the stairs when Nicole caught his hand. “Keenan … wait.”
Her voice was weak, breathless. They’d run back through the city, moving so fast humans wouldn’t remember them.
“I need …” Her husky voice had his body tensing. He knew what she needed. He turned, took her into his arms, and pressed her up against the stair railing.
“Drink from me,” he whispered as he urged her head closer to his neck.
Her lips pressed against his skin. Her mouth trembled and then he felt the slight sting of her teeth.
At her bite, the whisper of pain disappeared and pleasure pumped through his body. Had she really been close to biting Sam earlier?
A growl built in his throat as his hands tightened on her.
But then he froze. Ice poured through his veins, and he pushed her away.
“Keenan?” Her tongue swiped out and licked away the drops of blood on her lips. “Wh-what’s wrong? Was I taking too much?”
His hands clenched. “I …” He took a breath and tried to fight down the rage that had risen within him. “I was afraid I’d hurt you.” A careless touch. An angry thought. Was it that simple? What if he crossed the line? Control.
One weak moment … could he hurt her so easily?
“You didn’t hurt me,” she told him. “We’ve been over this, remember? You have to want to kill.”
“Right then,” he admitted with total honesty, “I did.”
Her eyes widened. “Me? You wanted to—”
“Sam,” he bit out the name. “You had your teeth on his throat.” The words rumbled from him. “You were going to drink from him.”
Just drink. Not f**k. Why should he be jealous over a blood exchange?
He shouldn’t be, yet he was.
“I wasn’t.” Her voice was soft and still managed to stroke right over his flesh like a caress.
His brows rose. He forced his fingers to unclench. “I saw you. You were at his throat.”
“But I wasn’t going to drink.” Nicole shook her head. “I really wasn’t that hard up. I’m not going to make your friends into meals.” She shrugged. “He was playing some kind of game, and I wanted to figure out why.”
“Sam’s always playing games.”
“He wanted you angry. Jealous.”
“Then he’d be real thrilled right now.” He could almost see the guy’s smirk.
“He told me the trick was control, Keenan. You have to keep your control.”
One slip, yes, he knew what would happen. What he didn’t understand was … “You know what I can do, so why do you still want to be with me?”
She smiled at him and the sight almost broke his heart. “You know what I’ve done, so why do you still want to be with me?”
“Because I’ve wanted you …” Before he’d even really understood what wanting was. He cleared his throat. “Because I want you, everything that you are.”
“And that’s the way I feel about you.” Her fingers slid down his chest. “I just want you.”
“What if …”
She stopped him by leaning forward and kissing his lips. A soft kiss. Gentle. Neither of them had seen a lot of gentleness lately. “I trust you,” she breathed the words against his mouth.
Her trust was precious, he knew that. It was also dangerous.
“I heal faster …” She eased back and glanced at her hands. There was no sign of bruises anymore. “When I drink your blood.”
Angel blood was potent. The most magical to some—and the most deadly to others. Vamps would see a burst in healing from angel blood, while demons who ingested his blood—they’d die.
The Fallen blood had once given rise to the demons, but over time, that blood had diluted. The drugs the demons so often ingested had changed their bodies—time and mutation had done the rest. Now, if the demons took a hit of undiluted angel blood—they didn’t get a healing rush. They only got death.