Page 36 of Angel Of Darkness

He rose and shuffled toward his car. The scent of flowers hung in the air, a light scent, totally out of place in the all but barren land.

Tom was surprised they’d left his keys—and the car. Bad move. They’d be on foot, and so much easier to track now. He grabbed the radio. “Need an APB...” He spit out a mouthful of blood. That punch had been real hard.

But she hadn’t killed him.

Odd, that.

“We got us a wanted fugitive in the area. A Nicole St. James...” Tom rattled off her description.

Killing him would have been so easy for her. Child’s play, especially with him knocked out. But she’d let him live. And that big hoss of a protective shadow she’d had with her hadn’t gone for his head, either.

“Approach with extreme caution,” he instructed as his fingers tightened around the radio. The deputies wouldn’t understand just how extreme the situation would be.

They didn’t know about vampires. He did.

Good thing he’d taken the liberty of ordering special bullets for his department. A sweet little batch made just for situations like this.

A silver bullet/holy water combination—a mix that had trickled through law enforcement personnel a few years back. A mix that worked wonders on the border. You never knew exactly what you’d see on a Texas night, not when you’d been patrolling for as long as he had.

But she’d let him live.

Damn odd for a vamp.

Damn odd. Especially since, if the stories were true, Nicole St. James had killed two men since her vampire transformation.

The motorcycle roared down the road. The engine vibrated between Nicole’s legs as she held tightly to her angel.

Angel.

Impossible.

But she’d spent her life as a semi-good Catholic girl. She’d been taught about angels since the time she learned her first few words. She’d always believed, until?—

Until she’d thought God turned away from her.

Not when she’d gotten the news from the doctor. No, she’d still believed. Still hoped. Still wanted to pray.

But...

That alley. That blood-soaked hell of an alley had convinced her. And then, the things she’d done…Her eyes squeezed shut as she pressed her forehead against Keenan’s strong back. No helmets, of course. They’d been lucky to steal the bike. The bike’s owner hadn’t been forgetful enough to leave helmets behind. Now they were just driving hard and driving fast. Her arms were around Keenan, holding tight.

Trusting him didn’t seem wise, but what choice did she have? She’d been thrown into this new world, with no damn clue how to survive. She’d barely scraped by the last few months. There’d been so many times she’d come close to death.

And she’d changed. The woman she’d been—yes, she really had died in that alley. The woman holding onto the back of a fallen angel had fallen herself.

He’d said that if she drank his blood, it wouldn’t weaken him, so the man seemed to be her perfect prey.

Perfect, but…I can’t trust him.

When a vamp took from prey, a link was formed. A link that allowed the vamp to slip into the prey’s mind. Sometimes to control. Other times to steal thoughts or memories.

When you had control over someone, trust wasn’t exactly an issue. So most vamps didn’t worry about trusting their prey. But she didn’t want control. Never had. She knew too well what it was like to be a puppet on someone else’s string.

Soon the lights of a city glittered in the distance. San Antonio. Good. The bigger the city, the easier it was for a paranormal to hide. And to feed.

Keenan snaked through the streets, guiding the bike easily, and she held him tighter. Whether she wanted it or not, her fate was being tied to his.

Keenan braked on a busy corner lined with bars, drunk humans, and cars.

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