Page 127 of Angel Of Darkness

Keenan lunged forward. The crowd seemed to pass him in a blur. He made sure not to touch anyone. He didn’t want an innocent’s death on his hands. Don’t want to kill. Don’t want to kill. Just in case Sam wasn’t bullshitting, he kept that little mantra running through his head. And he didn’t want to kill Pete, but Bo was a different story.

He’d seen Bo before. Seen him at death scenes in the past. Bo liked to hurt his victims, vamps and humans. If anyone deserved getting put out of his misery, it would be Bo.

Keenan’s hand reached out. His fingers stretched. Bo spun around, finally seeming to sense the threat.

Pete let out a high-pitched yell.

But then someone blocked his prey. Someone with pale skin and midnight-black hair. The last person he’d expected to find on his hunt.

And Nicole was blocking his prey.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” she whispered as he froze. “But attacking humans? This isn’t you.”

It was now.

“Get away from them, Nicole.” Maybe she didn’t realize just who it was that she was protecting. She’d been on the ground, burning, so she might not have seen their faces so well. “They’re the ones who tried to kill you.”

“I’m not worried about them.” Her chin lifted. “I only care about you.”

His hand was still up and just inches from her face.

Sam cursed. The wind rushed against Keenan, and Sam vanished. Figured.

Behind Nicole, Bo bent down, grabbed at his boot—and came back up with his fingers clenched around a wooden stake.

“You should be worried, bitch!” Bo screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. “I been waiting a long time to kill you!”

Nicole spun toward him, but Bo was already plunging that stake down, and when she turned, it gave him perfect aim at her heart.

Death.

Here. Now.

Keenan leapt forward and shoved Nicole out of the way, and his hand caught the stake and Bo’s hand. He caught them, then he crushed both the wood and the hand.

Bo screamed, the cry high and pain-filled, but the shriek ended mid-breath as Bo collapsed.

Dead.

“Keenan!”

His head whipped to the right. Nicole was on the ground, pushing to her feet. She was still too pale and weaving just a little. Probably because she hadn’t taken a drink before tracking after him.

“You touched me,” she told him and he wondered if she hadn’t just set him up, with herself as bait. “You touched me.”

“I had to.” If he hadn’t, she would have died. No choice.

Her gaze held his.

I didn’t kill her. He wanted to pull her close.

But she pulled him close instead. Around them, the crowd continued, not even noticing the dead man. Or maybe not caring.

“You’re touching me, and I’m not dying,” she seemed to breathe the words.

Thudding footsteps raced away. He glanced up in time to see Pete fleeing. Smart man.

Nicole’s fingers dug into his arms. “Sam was telling the truth.”

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