DevilishlyHot (26 page)
Authors: Unknown
Epilogue
A
nnie double-checked to make sure she had everything she needed, then she zipped her suitcase, glad everything actually fit.
nnie double-checked to make sure she had everything she needed, then she zipped her suitcase, glad everything actually fit.
“Ready,” Nick called to her.
“Yes,” Annie said, wheeling her suitcase out into the living room of their new apartment. It was smaller than her old one, but bigger than Nick’s. And it was theirs, no strings attached.
“You ready to learn how to milk a cow, city boy?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, attempting his best Southern drawl.
Annie grinned, feeling completely happy with her new life. She was finally going home again to see her grandparents after three long, long years, and she was bringing her wonderful detective fiancé with her. She’d started a new job as an assistant editor at
Comfy Home
magazine, and her head editor didn’t show even the remotest signs of being a diva ... or a demon. And she actually got to come home by six o’clock and had every weekend off.
Comfy Home
magazine, and her head editor didn’t show even the remotest signs of being a diva ... or a demon. And she actually got to come home by six o’clock and had every weekend off.
Nick still worked as a detective, although he’d cut back on his caseload, only taking those strange cases where people claimed they saw things they couldn’t possibly have seen. Things that other detectives thought were downright crazy.
And Satan had stayed true to their contract: no demons from her past life had bothered either of them. She thought she saw Finola once through the window of an expensive, five-star restaurant, but since she and Nick had been heading to the next block to go bowling, she felt pretty confident she wouldn’t run into her later. In return, she and Nick had kept quiet about what they knew. They might have felt guilty if Eugene hadn’t said that was their best course of action anyway.
“I love you,” Nick said, stealing a kiss as she passed him on the way out the door.
“I love you too,” she said, feeling so very happy that she’d finally gotten the life she’d always imagined. And the man who’d been willing to fight demons to save her.
Tristan stood at the window in his office, looking out at the city skyline. He loved living in the human world and he didn’t want to lose this.
For the past several weeks, Finola had behaved herself, and it seemed that Satan’s wrath had finally whipped her into shape. She’d been fabulous over Fashion Week, and they had infiltrated several of the other larger fashion magazines, getting many legitimate soul contracts, even getting a few demons into some of the higher positions of other magazines.
But she was slipping back to her old ways. Just today, she’d cast her new personal assistant to Hell because the woman forgot to ask for extra foam on Finola’s white chocolate mocha. So he’d spent yet another afternoon with a catatonic woman in the passenger seat of his Bentley as he drove to Jersey.
Tristan took a sip of his dirty martini, trying to decide what to do to make sure he wasn’t dragged down with her if she was indeed taken back to Hell.
He sighed. “Maybe I should just try to overthrow her myself.”
“Maybe you should.”
Tristan spun around, searching for who had just spoken. But his office was empty.
“Down here.”
Tristan looked down, shocked.
Finola’s dog sat in the center of the room, staring at him with beady black eyes.
Tristan blinked. “You can talk?”
“Yes, and I can listen too. How do you feel about staging a coup with man’s best friend?”
Tristan walked over to the black leather sofa on the far side of his desk and sat down. For a minute, he doubted the sound logic of a takeover planned with a dog, but then a realization hit him.
“You were the one telling Satan about Finola’s erratic behavior, weren’t you?”
The dog nodded, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
“Yes, and I’d do it again.”
Tristan was impressed.
“So are you in?”
Tristan raised his glass. “Oh, I’m definitely in.”
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“D
o you think the Kurjans are near?”
o you think the Kurjans are near?”
He shook his head without opening his eyes. “No. I don’t sense evil anywhere near us. We’re probably safe for a couple of hours, then we should move again.”
A couple of hours? Damn. She needed him in fighting shape. “Will drinking my blood help heal you?”
His lids flipped open, revealing those silver eyes that had haunted her dreams for fifteen years. Hunger, raw and pure, filled them. “Yes.”
Emma gulped in air. The husky timbre of his voice caressed nerves she didn’t want to own. “I won’t become a vampire?”
His dimples winked at her. “No. Vampires are born, not made.”
Fear and her damn curiosity blended until she could only whisper. “Okay.” She held out her wrist and shut her eyes. And waited. The breeze picked up outside the cave, rustling pine needles and leaves inside the small entrance, and she shivered. Finally, she opened her eyes in exasperation. “What?”
Reaching out with his good arm, he lifted her chin with one knuckle, waiting until her gaze met his. “I want your neck.”
Low and rough, his voice skittered need through her midriff. Talk about direct. “Um, well, why?” Her mind reeled and she fought the urge to drop her gaze to his mouth. She lost the fight. He ran a tongue along those full lips and need rippled through her. How did he do that?
He waited again until she focused on him, her eyes widening on the pure confidence shining in his. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for centuries—I don’t want you extending your wrist to me and looking the other way.”
“What do you want?” She shouldn’t have asked that. God.
For answer, he reached out with his healthy arm and lifted her until she straddled his lap. She should’ve protested, but the easy strength and warm hand on her hip caught the breath in her throat. Fascinating. Such true, raw power. She pressed both hands against the undamaged muscles of his chest, balancing herself. His erection lay thick and hard beneath her, and she fought the urge to clench her thighs against his legs.
He stared at her through half lidded eyes, his hands going to the buttons of her cotton shirt.
“What are you doing?” she breathed.
“I don’t want to get blood on your shirt.” His gaze dropped to the swell of her breasts over the plain white bra. Fire flared within those silver depths and she fought a moan.
“That’s enough.” She covered his hands with hers.
With a nod, he gently placed her hands on his thighs before clasping the shirt and drawing it down both arms. The lower buttons remained engaged, and the material trapped her arms at her sides.
He pinned her with a gaze so full of hunger she couldn’t speak. “You’ll give your blood?”
Emma nodded, her focus narrowing to the man before her.
Sharp fangs emerged from his canines and he growled, reaching one arm around to cup her head and pull it to the side. Her neck stretched and vulnerability battled with arousal down her length. Every muscle in her body tensed to flee. His other hand gasped her hip, flexed, then slid up to her now bare shoulder, entrapping her.
There was no escaping him.
Tugging her closer, he buried his head in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. She tensed, waiting for the pain. Instead, he pressed one tender kiss to the rapidly beating pulse. She felt it to her core.
He inhaled, running his mouth along her collarbone and up to her ear, where he nipped. “You smell like spiced rum and peaches,” he breathed against her skin, his hands holding her firmly in place. “Some dreams I could smell you, but not this strongly. Never this fully.” He rose up, drawing in a deep breath. “Never so much I’d do anything to have you.”
Quick as a whip, he struck.
His fangs pierced her skin, and Emma cried out, shutting her eyes.
Her blood boiled.
Raw need flared her flesh to life and a hum began deep in her core. What was happening? Without caring enough to stop and think, she pressed against him, so hard, so full. His mouth pulled harder, and her nipples pebbled into pinpoints of need. Something contracted in her womb, begging for him. He drank more, and she exploded into a thousand pieces. The room sheeted white and orgasm tore through her with the force of a furious tornado. She went limp, held upright only by his hands.
Sealing the wound, his tongue lashed across her skin and she shivered, nearly dazed. He held her in place and lifted his head away from her, his gaze piercing on her heated face.
She should be embarrassed, but a warm haze clouded her vision, her brain.
“Emma?”
She lifted heavy lids to focus.
His eyes burned hotter than molten steel. “I want you.”
And don’t miss ANGEL OF DARKNESS, the first in a new series by Cynthia Eden, coming next month!
H
e’d been created for one purpose—death. He was not there to comfort or to enlighten.
e’d been created for one purpose—death. He was not there to comfort or to enlighten.
Keenan’s only job was to bring death to those unlucky enough to know his touch.
And on the cold, windy New Orleans night, his latest victim was in sight. He watched her from his perch high atop the St. Louis Cathedral. Mortal eyes wouldn’t find him. Only those preparing to leave the earthly realm could ever glimpse his face, so he didn’t worry about shocking those few humans who straggled through the nearby square.
No, he worried about nothing. No one. He never had. He simply touched and he killed and he waited for his next victim.
The woman he watched tonight was small, with long black hair, and skin a pale cream. The wind whipped her hair back, jerking it away from her face as she hurried down the stone cathedral steps. The doors had been locked. She hadn’t made it inside. No chance to pray.
Pity.
He slipped to the side of the cathedral, still watching her as she edged down the narrow alleyway. Pirate Alley. He’d taken others from this place before. The path seemed to scream with the memories of the past.
“
No!”
No!”
That wasn’t the past screaming. His body stiffened. His wings beat at the air around him. It was
her.
her.
Nicole St. James. Schoolteacher. Age twenty-nine. A woman who avoided the party streets. Who tutored children on the weekends. A woman who’d tried to live her life just right ...
A woman who was dying tonight.
His eyes narrowed as he leapt from his perch. Time to go in closer.
Nicole’s attacker had her against the wall. One of the man’s hands was over her mouth, the better to make sure she didn’t scream again. His other hand slammed against the front of her chest and held her pinned against the cold stone wall.
She was fighting harder than Keenan had really expected. Struggling. Kicking.
Her attacker just laughed.
And Keenan watched—as he’d always watched. So many years ...
Tears streamed down Nicole’s cheeks.
The man holding her leaned in and licked them away.
Keenan’s gut clenched. Knowing that her time was at hand, he’d watched Nicole for a few weeks now. He’d slipped into her classroom and listened to the soft drawl of her voice. He’d watched as her lips curled into a smile and a dimple winked in her right cheek.
He’d seen laughter in her eyes. Seen longing. Seen ... life.
Now, her green eyes were filled with the stark, wild terror that only the helpless can truly know.
He didn’t like that look in her eyes. His hands clenched.
Don’t look if you don’t like it.
His gaze jerked away from her face. The job wasn’t about what he liked. It never had been.
His gaze jerked away from her face. The job wasn’t about what he liked. It never had been.
There’d never been a choice.
They have the choices. I only have orders to follow.
That was way it had always been. So why did it bother him, now? Because it was her? Because he’d watched too much? Slipped beside her too much?
Temptation.
“This is gonna hurt ...”
The man’s grating whisper scratched through Keenan’s mind. Neither the attacker nor Nicole could see him. Not yet.
One touch, that was all it would take.
But the time hadn’t come for her yet.
“The wind’s so loud ...” The man lifted his hand off Nicole’s mouth. “No one’s gonna hear you scream anyway.”
But she still screamed—a loud, long, desperate scream—and she kept fighting.
Keenan truly hadn’t realized she’d struggle so much against death. Some didn’t fight at all when the time came. Others fought until he had to drag them away.
Fabric ripped. Tore. The guy had jerked her shirt, rending the material. Keenan glimpsed the soft ivory of her bra and the firm mounds of her breasts.
Help her.
The urge came from deep within, but it was an urge he couldn’t heed.
The urge came from deep within, but it was an urge he couldn’t heed.
“Don’t!” Nicole yelled. “Please—no! Just let me go!”
Her attacker lifted his head. Keenan stared at him, noting the gaunt features, the black hair, and the eyes that were too dark for a normal man. “No, baby. I’m not let-tin’ you go.” The guy licked his lips. “I’m too damn hungry.” Then he smiled and revealed sharpened teeth that no human could possess.
Vampire.
Figured. Keenan had been cleaning up their messes for centuries.
A mistake.
That’s what all those parasites were. An experiment gone wrong.
Figured. Keenan had been cleaning up their messes for centuries.
A mistake.
That’s what all those parasites were. An experiment gone wrong.
Nicole opened her mouth to scream again and the vamp sank his teeth into her throat. Then he started drinking from her, gulping and growling. Nicole’s fingernails raked against his face as she struggled against him.
But it was too late to fight. She’d never be strong enough to break away from the vampire. She was five feet six inches tall. Maybe 135 pounds.
The vamp was over six feet. He was lean, but muscle mass and weight didn’t really matter—not when you were talking about a vamp’s strength.
Keenan stared at the narrow opening of the alley. Soon, he’d be able to touch her and her nightmare would end.
Soon
.
Soon
.
“
You’re just going to stand there?”
Her voice cracked.
You’re just going to stand there?”
Her voice cracked.
His head whipped back toward her. Those green eyes—full of fury and fear—were locked on
him
.
him
.
Impossible.
She shouldn’t see me yet.
It wasn’t time. The vamp hadn’t taken enough blood from her.
It wasn’t time. The vamp hadn’t taken enough blood from her.
Nicole slammed her hands into the vampire’s chest, but he kept his teeth in her throat and didn’t so much as stumble. Her neck was tilted back, her head angled, and her stare was on—
Me.
“Help me.” She mouthed the words as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Please.”
By the fire, she could
see
him. Every muscle in Keenan’s body went tight. “I will.” The words felt rusty and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to a human. No need for talk, not really. Not when you were just carting souls. “Soon ...”
see
him. Every muscle in Keenan’s body went tight. “I will.” The words felt rusty and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to a human. No need for talk, not really. Not when you were just carting souls. “Soon ...”
The vamp’s head lifted. Her blood stained his mouth and chin. “Baby, you taste so good.”
Her body slumped as her knees buckled. Kenton’s wings stretched behind him even as his muscles tensed.
“Grade Fucking A,” the vamp muttered and he eased back.
Why?
The vamp planned to kill her. Keenan knew that. Nicole St. James was dying tonight.
Why?
The vamp planned to kill her. Keenan knew that. Nicole St. James was dying tonight.
Nicole’s hand rose to her throat. Her fingers were shaking. Her whole body trembled. “Y-you’re not real ...” Her eyes never left Keenan.
“Oh, I’m damn real.” The vamp swiped the back of his hand over his chin. “Guess what, sweet thing? All those stories you heard? About the vamps and this city? Every damn one of ’em tales is true.”
Nicole didn’t look at the vamp. She kept her eyes on Keenan as she inched her way down the alley. With every slow move, she kept her hands pressed against the wall.
“You gonna run?” The vamp asked. “Oh, damn, I love it when they run.”
Yes, he did. Most vamps did. They liked the thrill of the hunt.
“
Why don’t you help me?”
She yelled at Keenan and the wind took the words, making them into a whisper as they left the alley.
Why don’t you help me?”
She yelled at Keenan and the wind took the words, making them into a whisper as they left the alley.
That was the way of Pirate Alley. Sometimes, no one could even hear the screams.
The vamp seemed to finally realize his prey wasn’t focused on him. The vamp spun around, turning so that he nearly brushed against Keenan. “What the fuck?” The vamp demanded. “Bitch, no one’s—”
Nicole’s footsteps pounded down the alley.
Smart.
Keenan almost smiled. Had she ever even seen him? Or had her words all been a trick to escape?
Smart.
Keenan almost smiled. Had she ever even seen him? Or had her words all been a trick to escape?
The vampire laughed, then he lunged after her. Four steps and the parasite leapt at her, tackling Nicole to the ground and keeping her trapped in the alley. Glass shattered when she fell—a beer bottle that had been tossed aside to litter the ground. She crashed into it and the bottle smashed beneath her weight.
“You’re gonna beg for death,” the vamp promised her.
Perhaps. Keenan slowly stalked toward them. He lifted his hand, aware of the growing cold in the air. The stories about death’s cold touch were true. Nicole’s time was at hand.
“Please, God, no!” Nicole cried.
God had other plans. That was why an Angel of Death had been sent to collect her.
The vamp’s hands were at her throat. His claws dug into her skin. The scent of decay and cigarettes swirled in the air around Keenan.
“Flowers,” Nicole whispered. “I smell ...”
Him.
Angels often carried a floral scent. Humans caught a trace of that scent all the time, but never realized they weren’t alone.
Angels often carried a floral scent. Humans caught a trace of that scent all the time, but never realized they weren’t alone.
The vamp sank his teeth into Nicole’s throat again. She didn’t even have the voice to scream now. Tears leaked from her eyes.
Keenan knelt beside her. The first time he’d seen her, he’d thought ...
Beautiful.
Now ... covered in garbage and blood, still fighting a vampire, still struggling to live ...
Beautiful.
It was time. His hand lifted toward her and hovered over her tangled hair. His fingers were so close to touching her. Just an inch, maybe two, separated them. But ...
He hesitated.
Why couldn’t someone else have come in the alley this night? A cop? A college kid? Someone
to help
her.
to help
her.
And not someone who was just supposed to watch her suffer.
A fire burned in his gut. She didn’t deserve this brutal end to her human life. From what he’d seen, Nicole had been
good.
She’d tried to help others. His jaw ached and he realized he’d been clenching his teeth.
good.
She’d tried to help others. His jaw ached and he realized he’d been clenching his teeth.
His gaze drifted to the vampire. It would be so easy to stop him and to take a monster from the world.
Forbidden.
The order burned into his mind. He wasn’t supposed to interfere. That wasn’t the way. Wasn’t allowed. He was to collect his charge and move on. Those were the rules.
The order burned into his mind. He wasn’t supposed to interfere. That wasn’t the way. Wasn’t allowed. He was to collect his charge and move on. Those were the rules.
He’d take Nicole St. James this night, and someone else would wait on him tomorrow. There were always more humans. More souls. More death.
Her hands fell limply to her sides as the vampire drank from her and her head turned toward Keenan.
There was gold buried in her eyes
. He’d thought her eyes were solid emerald, but now, he could see the gold glinting in her eyes. Angels had strong vision—in darkness or light—but he’d never noticed that gold before.
. He’d thought her eyes were solid emerald, but now, he could see the gold glinting in her eyes. Angels had strong vision—in darkness or light—but he’d never noticed that gold before.
Her eyes locked right on him. She was so close to passing. He had no doubt that she saw him then.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. The vampire wouldn’t hear him. No one but Nicole would hear his voice. “The pain is already ending for you.” His hand still reached for her. He’d wanted to touch her before. To see if her skin was as soft as it looked. But he knew just how dangerous such a touch would be—to both of them.
Keenan well understand what happened to those of his kind when they did not obey their orders.
Despite popular belief, angels were not the favored ones. They did not have choices like the humans. Angels had only duty.
“I don’t ...” Her words were barely a whisper. Had the vamp savaged her neck too much? “D-don’t ... want to ... die ...”
The vamp gulped down her blood, growling as he drank.
“Don’t ... let me ...” Her lashes began to fall. The fingers of her right hand began to curl inward, and her wrist brushed against the jagged glass. “Die ...”
There was so much desperation in her voice, but he’d heard desperation before. Heard fear. Heard lies. Promises.
But he’d never heard them from
her.
her.
Keenan didn’t touch her. His hand eased back as he hesitated.
Hesitated.
He’d taken a thousand souls. No, far more. But her ...
Why her? Why tonight? She’s barely lived. The vamp should be the one to go, not—
Nicole let out a guttural groan. Keenan blinked and his wings rustled behind him. No, he had a job to do. He would do it—
Nicole grabbed a thick shard of broken glass and wrenched it up. She shoved it into the vampire’s neck and caught him right in the jugular. His blood spilled over her as the vamp wrenched back, howling in pain and fury.
Her throat was a mess, ripped flesh, blood—so much blood. Hers. The vamp’s. Nicole grabbed another chunk of glass and swung again with a slice to the vamp’s neck.
Fighting.
She was fighting desperately for every second of life that she had left. And he was supposed to just stop her? Supposed to take her away when she struggled so hard to live?
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