Page 2 of Angel Of Darkness

Don’t look if you don’t like it. His gaze pulled 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 the 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 often?

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.

“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 lettin’ 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 was 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, and 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 one hundred thirty-five 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.

“You’re just going to stand there?” Her voice cracked.

His head whipped back toward her. Those green eyes—fury and fear—were locked on him.

Impossible.

She shouldn’t see him yet. 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.”

Her plea seemed to slip right inside of him. “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.”

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