Angel Betrayed (2 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Eden

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Angel Betrayed
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C
HAPTER
O
NE
 
T
he devil owed her a favor, and it was time that Seline O’Shaw called in that debt.
“Well, well . . .” Sammael—
Sam
because he’d long ago dropped the more formal version of his name—raked her with his bright blue stare as she made her way across the crowded New Orleans club and to his side. “Come back for another dance, have you?” His deep voice cut easily through the laughter and whispers that floated in the air.
Dance.
Seline’s eyes narrowed. “Not tonight.” No, tonight she was waiting tables at Sunrise and wearing one of those skimpy black dresses that all the waitresses were forced to squeeze into before each shift. Thankfully, she wasn’t scheduled to go onstage again.
Too dangerous.
She’d only danced twice, and she didn’t plan to hop up there again. Seline risked a quick glance over her shoulder. “I need to talk with you,” she said as her voice dropped.
Sam wasn’t alone. But then, he was the big, bad-ass
Other
in the city so he usually had company. Not guards exactly. Why would he need guards? If the stories were true, Sam could kill with a touch. The man wasn’t human, not even close.
So, no, the demons weren’t around to guard him, but she knew they were there to pretty much jump when he so much as whispered an order. Demon attack dogs.
“Go ahead,” he invited softly, his voice low and rumbling, “talk.”
Right. Like she was going to bare her soul with his two demon goons right next to him. And Seline knew the guys on either side of Sam were demons. Most folks probably would have thought they were humans—very dangerous looking humans—but
not
demons.
Seline wasn’t most folks, and she damn well knew a demon when she saw one. After all, she’d been born with the special curse of being able to see right past a demon’s glamour. She didn’t have the luxury of pretending that monsters weren’t real. She saw monsters every day.
And every time I look into the mirror.
“Alone.” She cleared her throat because the word came out way too husky. She really had to watch that. She wasn’t trying to seduce Sam, not yet anyway. “I need to talk to you . . .” She let her gaze dart to the goons.
“Alone.”
Sam waved his right hand, and the demons rose. They disappeared into the crowd like good little flunkies even as Sam edged away from the table and closed in on her.
She didn’t back down. Seline tilted her head so she could meet his blue stare. The guy was big—had to be at least six feet three, maybe six feet four—muscled, and too sexy by far.
He was also the deadliest man she’d ever met.
Don’t forget that. Remember who he is, what he is.
Death.
Strange. She’d never thought Death would be particularly sexy. He was.
His eyes were the brightest blue she’d ever seen. His cheeks were high, his jaw hard and strong, and his lips—sensual, but with an edge of cruelty she couldn’t miss.
Sam took her hand. “Come with me.”
A shiver slipped over her at his touch. She hadn’t expected her reaction to Sam. The first time she’d seen him, she’d . . . wanted him and that wasn’t the way things were supposed to work in her world. She was the one desired. The one wanted. That was the way she’d been made. She might not like the life she’d been given, but screw the bitching and moaning routine. Seline couldn’t control what she was, but she could use her power.
Sam led her through the crowd and to a small door on the side of the club. The private room. Yeah, she knew the place. She’d been working at Sunrise for a while now, and she’d learned the rules. This room was for the VIPs. A place for them to have quick sex, to run a business deal, or to party the night away. All without having to worry about any prying eyes watching.
Unless you
wanted
to be watched, because she knew some folks in Sunrise liked that, too.
The bouncer at the door immediately let Sam inside. Figured he’d get instant access because right then, she knew Sam was the most important VIP in the place.
Fear had a way of making certain people very, very important.
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
No watching.
Seline’s heart did a too-fast kick when Sam turned around and locked his stare on her. “Better now?” he asked with a twist of his lips.
Sexy lips.
“I’m all yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her with a gaze that always saw too much.
Oh, damn. She swallowed.
Play the game.
“I-I . . . you owe me, Sam.”
His dark brows—black to match his midnight mane of hair—rose. “Do I?” His voice was careless, but she saw the intensity in his eyes.
Seline nodded quickly. “I helped you before. I told you—told you when the shifter wanted you dead.” Who
didn’t
want him dead? But a few weeks ago, she’d tipped Sam off about the very dangerous coyote shifter who’d been hunting him. That tip-off should give her the bargaining power she needed right now.
His head inclined. “So you did.” His gaze raked her body, and that hot blue stare lingered a bit too long on her breasts and her thighs.
The top of her “uniform” plunged right between her breasts, and the skirt barely skimmed the tops of her thighs. She shifted slightly beneath his stare but quickly caught herself. “You owe me now, Sam,” she reminded him.
That
brought his eyes back to hers. His face, that perfect face that didn’t belong on someone so dangerous, tilted to study her. Sam might have the reputation of the devil, but the man’s face and body were pure perfection. All the better to tempt.
Sometimes she felt like everything about the man was a lie. But, fair enough, she was pretty good at deceiving, too.
She pressed, “You pay your debts, right?” He’d better. “Depends on the debt.”
That wasn’t the answer she wanted.
Sam lowered his arms and stalked closer until only a foot of space separated their bodies. The door was closed behind her, and when he leaned in, Sam slapped both of his palms against the wooden frame and caged her with his arms. “What do you need, Seline?”
She wasn’t surprised that he knew her name. He’d watched her often enough in the last two months. First, he’d watched her at Temptation. Going in as a dancer had been the only way she knew to get close to Sam—and she
had
to get close.
But when some assholes had torched the joint, she’d had to come up with a real fast plan B. Since she knew Sam spent a lot of time here, she’d taken a waitressing job at Sunrise.
All to stay close to him.
It had only been later that she’d learned Sam actually owned Sunrise, too.
“Seline?” His breath feathered lightly over her cheek. “What do you want from me?”
Her chin lifted but she kept her hands at her sides.
Don’t touch him.
“Protection.”
His brows rose.
“I won’t lie to you, Sam.” Yes, actually, she would. A lot. “I haven’t exactly been living the pure and innocent life.” Okay, that line was one hundred percent true. “I . . . made a mistake a while back, and now there are some people out there that want me dead.”
“Why?”
The door was shut. They were totally alone. She could confess to him. “Because I killed a man.” The words seemed to fall into the thick silence of the room. “I didn’t plan to do it. It-it was an accident—”
“Was it?”
Her hands clenched into fists.
Ah, caught me.
“No, it wasn’t.” Again, this part was true. The lies would only come later. “He was an asshole who got off on hurting women. He used his fists any chance he had, and I wasn’t gonna be the next body he put in a box.” She wouldn’t be any man’s punching bag.
His eyes studied her. “You’re afraid.”
Only of a few things in this world.
“Is that why,” he continued quietly, “you’re always armed?”
He knew?
“With a gun close by, tucked in your purse or . . .” His fingers slid up her thigh. Up, up, stroking over her flesh until he found the sheath of her knife, tucked right on the interior of her thigh. “Or why you keep a knife strapped to your thigh?”
“You can’t be too careful,” she whispered, her body tight because he was still touching her—and she liked it.
Can’t. Too dangerous.
Wanting Sam could make her weak, and lust was a weakness she couldn’t afford right then.
Unfortunately for her kind, lust was like kryptonite. The closer the temptation, the stronger the weakness.
“So you need protection.” His stare narrowed on her. “What, exactly, does that mean?” He paused. “Do you need a guard? Someone to watch over you? Or . . .” His left hand rose. His fingers curved under her cheek and his thumb brushed over her lips. Her breath caught, and her heart raced in her chest. “Do you want me to kill someone for you, Seline?”
Killing would be easy for him. Sometimes, she worried it might become too easy for her. “I-I don’t know what to do. I’ve been hiding, and I thought I was safe, but they found me.”
“They?” His right hand still cradled her thigh and seemed to scorch her flesh.
“His friends. They know what I did, and they aren’t the kind of men you can just walk away from.” She let fear seep into her voice. The better to sound weak. Men liked it when women were needy, right?
Help me.
“They’re dangerous, Sam, and they’ve got a lot of power.”
His gaze searched hers. Then his mouth dipped close to hers. Seline stopped breathing. He was going to kiss her and her hormones would go wild.
Control.
She had to stay in—
He didn’t kiss her. He smiled. And dammit, she’d actually been pressing up on her toes to get closer to him.
Heat stained her cheeks.
I don’t blush.
But she was—or rather, she’d started blushing since she met Sam. He made her too uncomfortable.
“What makes you think I’m the kind of man who offers protection?”
She didn’t think he’d give her protection. She wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t the protecting kind.
He was the killing kind.
She wet her lips and felt the tension mount in his body. “I know what you are.” Half-truth. She knew what he
wasn’t.
She was still working on the rest. Out of a thousand possibilities, she’d narrowed down the choices to a top five list—and nothing on that list was good.
“And what’s that?”
Now this was the dangerous part. If she’d calculated wrong, he could attack her. Good thing she wasn’t very easy to kill. “You’re not human.” This she knew with absolute certainty. Demons didn’t play guard bitch to humans. The food chain didn’t work that way.
No change of expression crossed his face. But his head came closer to hers and his lips—
why would that cruel edge be sexy?
—pressed against her mouth. She expected the kiss to be hard and rough. What else? But when his mouth took hers, it was just . . . a taste.
His tongue licked her lips and stroked inside her mouth. Slow. Easy. As if he were sampling her.
Her tongue slipped to meet his. To taste. To want.
Sam.
When he pulled back, she had to fight to keep her hands off him. Or rather, she had to fight not to yank the guy back and take a lot more from him.
Dangerous.
His gaze studied her a moment, and she barely dared to breathe. “I’m not human,” he finally agreed, his voice a deep rumble. “But neither are you, sweetheart.
Neither are you
.”
True enough. Now this was the dicey part. Time for some half-truth, half-lies. “You know I’m a demon.” Yeah, and good for her, she could admit that truth without flinching in shame anymore.
“Like to like,” he murmured. “That’s the way, right?”
Right. In the
Other
world, paranormals could recognize their own kind. Maybe it was Mother Nature’s way of making sure the
Other
didn’t vanish into the mist. If you recognized your own kind, it sure made mating within the same subset easier. Demons could see right through the magic glamour that shielded their kind from human attention. The easiest tip-off that you were dealing with a fellow demon?
Go for the eyes.
A demon’s real eyes were pitch-black. The lens, the sclera—everything was black. But thanks to the glamour that even the least powerful of demons could manage, humans never saw that telling stare. Well, not unless the demons wanted them to see. In that case . . .
good-bye, human.
Because when you saw that darkness, death was coming.

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