Page 106 of Angel Of Darkness

The breath burned in his lungs.

She’d been alive, and he’d left her. The fury had been so strong and the need to punish had been driving him to kill.

“Bitch will suffer!”

His breath heaving out, Keenan stalked across the road. “No, she won’t.”

“She is!” Mike’s wild laughter tossed on the wind that shouldn’t be there. “She’s suffering now.” His lips were curved wide, showing that bloody grin. “Justice.”

Keenan shook his head. Bull. No one was left to hurt Nicole. She was?—

“He said you’d leave her.”

“He?” Get back to Nicole. The whisper filled in his mind and had his body tensing.

“He’ll kill her.” Mike’s laughter choked in his chest. “When you find her, the vamp will be ripped open.”

Keenan lunged forward and grabbed Mike, yanking him up. “Who? Who’s after her?”

Mike’s eyes widened. His breath rasped. Pain and fear tightened his face. “W-wings,”

And he died.

He just died. Right then. Right there.

Keenan stared down at his hands. Hands that had grabbed Mike.

One touch.

Death.

Keenan’s hands lifted. Mike’s body dropped to the ground, as hard as stone. Frozen in death. Sam had been right. All the powers were coming back, and Keenan had just gotten the power he’d dreaded the most.

“No.” Keenan stumbled back and then stared up at the perfect blue sky. “No!”

If his touch could kill, then he couldn’t touch Nicole again. Couldn’t ever touch her.

The vamp will be ripped open.

He couldn’t let her die. Keenan shoved back the rage and trapped it deep inside his body. He spun and ran back for the motorcycle. The wounds from the gunshots were already healing. No mortal weapon would ever slow him down for long.

He’d stop whoever was after Nicole. Stop him, kill him—with a touch.

Because the angel of death was back.

He could almost feel the beat of his wings as he raced down the highway.

When Sam came upon the battered motorcycles on the old highway, he smiled. And knew that his plan was working.

He braked his truck—he rather enjoyed that truck—and climbed out to survey the wreckage. Two men, still alive. Groaning and twitching on the ground. One man…

Sam walked closer, his booted feet thudding on the concrete.

One dead.

Sam’s head cocked as he crouched and studied the body. Big Mike. A semi-legend in vampire-killing circles. Mike and his brother Jeff had followed the motto that the only good vamp was a dead one. So they’d staked every vamp they could find.

At least, they had until Jeff had gotten good and drunk one night and let a sweet little newbie vamp with a good ass and a bad bite get too close.

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