Page 35 of Angel Betrayed

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 human 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 angel’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? Hmm. 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 had 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.” 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.

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 at the moment. “And get me 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?

“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, Cole looked as if 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.

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