Angel Betrayed (10 page)
He stared at her. Didn’t risk touching her again, couldn’t. He knew a lie when he heard it, and if he touched her with rage, his control might slip. When his control slipped, people died. “Bullshit.” Was she still setting him up? Was this all just some trick to get under his guard?
Sam caught the faint narrowing of her eyes. “It’s true,” Seline said.
“An angel would never take in a succubus.” And sure as sin not one as freaking rule-oriented as Rogziel. Rogziel was old school. Sam had heard his spiel plenty of times. Demons were abominations. Angels shouldn’t have sex with humans. Do your duty. Punish the guilty.
Blah, fucking blah.
She grabbed for the sheet, and he missed the view when she covered herself. “For your information, I’m only half-succubus.”
Right. Which begged the question . . . “So what’s your other half?”
Her lips clamped together.
Fine. It didn’t really matter to him. She could be some new breed half-vamp, half-demon miracle, and he wouldn’t feel differently. If the little hybrid didn’t want to share, he sure wouldn’t lose any sleep. “He kept you for thirty years.” Now that part actually did piss him off, more than it should, and the rage pumped hotter.
“He didn’t
keep
me, okay? I was a baby.”
keep
me, okay? I was a baby.”
Shit, she was only thirty? Talk about robbing the cradle. A succubus could easily hide her age—or just not age at all. He’d never suspected she was so young.
Seline huffed out a hard breath. “I didn’t even know—” she began as red stained her cheeks.
“That Rogziel was a sadist with his own twisted sense of right and wrong?” She’d worked with him. So much time—enough time for Rogziel to twist her. “Tell me, how many men did you kill for him?”
Don’t touch her.
He could never touch her with this fury fueling him. “How many did you seduce?”
Don’t touch her.
He could never touch her with this fury fueling him. “How many did you seduce?”
She spun away and grabbed her clothes. The sheet dropped, he got one fine view of her ass, then she yanked on her clothes. “Screw you!”
He raised a brow. “You already did.”
Obviously, that wasn’t the right thing to say. A blast of psychic power hit him and tossed him across the room. When Sam picked himself off the floor, he glared at her. The woman was definitely stronger than she’d been before.
But, wait, if she was stronger, then shouldn’t that mean he was
weaker
?
weaker
?
Hell. A succubus only got stronger when she took power. He’d been so busy drinking her in that he hadn’t even realized what she could have been doing to him.
If she’s trying to set me up, I gave her the perfect opportunity.
The fire . . . had it been a trap? A way to get to him? He’d burned and would never forget that pain, so he hadn’t been able to just stand there and watch the fire ravage her skin.
Then she’d told him sensual energy was the only way for her to heal . . .
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Seline demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You deserved that shove. You’re lucky I didn’t slam your head into the wall.”
Sex equaled strength for her.
Weakness for him?
He waved his hand.
Seline yelped and her body lifted up into the air. Then wind rushed against Sam as she fought back, but this time, he was ready for her push of power.
In the face of her psychic blast, he didn’t move. Interesting. So she hadn’t taken enough to weaken him, not yet.
One more reason to leave the pretty succubus behind. Because if he stayed with her, he’d have her again.
He couldn’t afford any weakness.
She swore as she bobbed in the air. He skirted around her.
“Sam! Dammit, let me down!” Her feet came close to kicking his face.
“No.” He would though, eventually. But right then, he had a bastard brother to hunt, and he couldn’t have her slowing him down.
He also couldn’t trust her. Not if she’d been working with Rogziel. So she’d stay put, for now.
Sam opened the door.
“No! You can’t leave me like this!”
He looked back at her. Seline’s face was flushed with fury. Her eyes couldn’t have burned darker. “Don’t you do it!” She yelled as she thrashed helplessly in the air. “Don’t—”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but Az is out there.” He’d already lost too much time, but he hadn’t been able to turn away from her when she needed him—or when he needed her. “He’s still weak from the fall, but he won’t stay that way for long.” Sam would take any advantage he could get in the battle to come. “But don’t worry, I’ll send a demon to take care of you.”
“What?” Did fear flicker in her eyes? “No, Sam, you—”
He shut the door. Her screams followed him. So did the thud of furniture. The woman must be using her power to wreck the room. If she wasn’t careful, she’d wear herself out, or rather, she’d wear her power out.
Good. That was just what he wanted . . . Seline weaker and more controllable. Sam began to whistle.
Hunting time.
He’d left her hanging—literally. Seline twisted and snarled, but she seemed to hang suspended courtesy of invisible hands. The guy wasn’t even around, but he still trapped her easily. Talk about a powerhouse.
Just what would happen when a demon came to “take care” of her? She bit back her anger and pulled in her energy. No sense wasting her power now. Okay, yes, she’d already smashed two chairs and a TV set, but she was back in control now. She could
think
past the fury, and she knew she’d better save her power for whoever was unlucky enough to come in that room.
think
past the fury, and she knew she’d better save her power for whoever was unlucky enough to come in that room.
So she waited.
Waited.
Waited.
Time seemed to crawl by as she dangled in the air. Then finally the door began to creak open.
Cole’s dark head appeared. It figured that Sam would send his right-hand demon flunkie to deal with her. Cole glanced at her, and his brows rose. Then he leaned back against the door frame, crossed his arms, and actually smirked.
Thanks for giving me a reason.
She blasted the jerk.
The fire at the warehouse was out. Now, all that remained was a sodden black mess that reeked of ash. A few firefighters were still at the scene, and Sam saw several cops and a guy he tagged as an arson investigator scanning the area. They were making notes, talking to each other, and looking worried. This was way above their pay scale.
As the sun rose higher into the sky, Sam stood in the shadows of a nearby building and watched. Waited.
Rogziel.
He’d wondered if the bastard was lurking around. Sam had been itching to rip that guy’s wings off for centuries. Pretentious prick.
He’d wondered if the bastard was lurking around. Sam had been itching to rip that guy’s wings off for centuries. Pretentious prick.
And Seline had spent thirty years with him? Her whole life? Talk about a living hell.
Why would a punishment angel even take in a succubus? Didn’t make any sense. To stay with her . . . to keep watching her all this time.
Why Rogziel? What made you develop such an interest in Seline?
Maybe that other half of hers
did
matter.
Maybe that other half of hers
did
matter.
Brakes squealed as a familiar black van pulled to the curb near the blackened warehouse. Ah, he’d been wondering when the van would show again. Cole had traced the van back to a fake name and address. Interesting . . . so Rogziel was trying to cover his tracks a bit.
Two men jumped out of the vehicle, one with pale blond hair and one with hair a dark red. They talked to the cops. Gestured to the scene. Looked all angry and pissed.
Human minions.
What happened to the good old days? The days when angels took care of the dirty work themselves, without hiring it out to the humans. Sometimes, you really had to get your lily-white hands dirty in order to get the job done.
His hands curled around the bars of the motorcycle he’d “borrowed” earlier. He watched the two males climb back inside the van, and when they took off, he was right on their trail.
Getting his hands dirty had never been a big problem for him.
“Get me down from here!” Seline screamed.
Cole slowly picked himself off the floor. He rubbed his jaw. She’d been feeling pissy, so she’d let his pretty-boy face slam into the bathroom door. “No can do, ma’am.”
Oh, great, and Texas flowed beneath his words.
Seline kicked out into the air. She was flailing like a freaking fish.
“Boss’s magic.” Cole gave a shrug. One of those I-don’t-give-a-fuck shrugs. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”
Fabulous. Sam had actually sicced his guard dog on her. “More likely, I’ll hurt you.”
A ghost of a smile lifted his lips. “I’m not the one who left you hanging.” Now his gaze drifted down her legs. “I don’t . . . ah . . . normally leave women like that.”
She stilled. No way was the demon Casanova hitting on her. But . . .
She was still riding high on the energy she’d taken from Sam. She’d never gotten a boost like that in her whole life. As far as she knew, she could be emitting some kind of succubus beacon.
Come . . . let’s sex it up.
Come . . . let’s sex it up.
She lifted her hand. “Get the eyes off my legs or you’ll get another hit.” As if she didn’t have enough to deal with right then. “And get me
down
!”
down
!”
He crossed his arms again—must be his favorite pose. Then as she glared at him, Cole slowly lifted his eyes and propped his back against the wall. “Only Sam can free you.”
“Then call him on the phone and tell him to put me down!” So she could go and kick his ass.
Cole shook his head and managed to look exceedingly unconcerned. How many times had he found floating women in his boss’s bedroom? Her jaw clenched so hard that her back teeth ached.
Bastard.
Was this a normal morning routine?
Bastard.
Was this a normal morning routine?
“I can’t go calling him now. Sorry, ma’am,” he finally drawled. “See . . . Sam doesn’t exactly trust you.”
Good enough for sex, not good enough for trust. Damn him.
Cole’s eyes flashed demon black and his handsome face hardened. “He doesn’t trust you, and neither do I.”
Well, so much for being a succubus beacon. Right then, the guy looked like he could readily kill her.
The humans didn’t lead Sam to Az. They took him to a graveyard instead.
It was still too early for most tourists—he’d noticed they liked to hit the cemeteries in the evening or at night—so the place was deserted. Sam shoved down the kickstand on his motorcycle and waited a beat, then he followed the men past the old, wrought-iron gates.
He’d seen the humans grab a bag before they’d gone inside. He knew he wasn’t the only one hunting this day.
The tourists who came to New Orleans would be freaking terrified if they knew what really waited in those crypts. Then they’d stop leaving their offerings for voodoo queens and stop slipping in for “haunted” tours.
He knew what hid inside the coffins, but didn’t care enough to be terrified.
He watched as the men pried open a door and then slipped in an old vault. One that had been around since the late 1800s. Sam heard the shuffle of footsteps and then the sudden scream that erupted, a scream that seemed to burst from the crypt.
Sam tensed, but then the redhead came flying out of the crypt.
His
scream. The scream ended abruptly when the guy hit the nearest monument.
His
scream. The scream ended abruptly when the guy hit the nearest monument.
Sam guessed the hunters had taken on prey they couldn’t handle.
If that “prey” killed the blonde before Sam got a chance to question him . . .
I’ll lose valuable time.
I’ll lose valuable time.
He hated wasting time. Sighing, he rolled his shoulders and stalked forward. He’d just reached the old entrance to the white tomb when the explosion hit him. Fire raced around him—more fucking fire—and the world disappeared in a swirl of red.
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