Angel Betrayed (The Fallen #2)(45)
Author: Cynthia Eden

The guy smiled, then he lifted his right hand—the hand that was holding a weapon. “Then put it down, cabron, and walk away with the puta, or I’ll put more holes in you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Seline snapped.

The gun barrel slid to the side and pointed at her.

The man’s already small eyes slit even more. “Or maybe I put holes in you . . .”

Sam closed the distance between him and the bastard in less than a second. “Or maybe you don’t.”

Sam slammed his fist into the man’s jaw. Then he grabbed the gun and pointed it right at the old ass**le’s forehead in a lightning-fast move. “Maybe I keep my money,” Sam growled. “Maybe I take your truck, and maybe I leave you with a few holes to remember me by.” The dumbass had picked the wrong Fallen to f**k with.

But the idiot just laughed, then he said, “No bullets. Just messin’ with you—”

Screw this. Sam head-butted the guy. The ass**le fell back onto the vehicle’s seat.

“Is he dead?” Seline asked as she crept closer.

Sam climbed in the truck and tossed the gun out behind him. Bullets wouldn’t do him any good against Rogziel and his hound. “Despite what Az told you, I don’t kill every person I meet.” Just most of them. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?” He grabbed the guy’s body and tossed him into the road. He’d wake up soon. The blow hadn’t been that hard.

She opened the passenger door and slid onto the cracked seat. “You’re saying that he was wrong?”

Sam gunned the engine. The truck just screeched. As getaway vehicles went, this one sucked. But beggars couldn’t be f**king choosy. “No.” Because he couldn’t lie to her. “I’m saying, sweetheart, that Az isn’t lily white when it comes to sin. His hands are dirty.”

“Dirtier than yours?”

He didn’t answer. She just had to keep pushing. If she wasn’t careful, he’d push back soon. Yes, he got it—she was furious that he’d used her as bait, but he hadn’t been given a lot of options.

The truck lurched forward. Dust spun in the air. Sam glanced in the rearview mirror. The old guy was already standing up, shaking his fists in the air, and screaming.

“I don’t think Az set those fires,” she told him, and it was the same verse she’d been singing—one that was royally pissing him off. Why did the woman keep defending his brother? “I think Rogziel did it,” she continued in a determined I-Know-The-Truth voice.

Ah, yes, let’s not forget the other fun player in their little game. Now just how had Rogziel been able to—

The bed of the truck suddenly sank to the ground, as if something very big had jumped onto the back. The vehicle swerved as Sam fought to control it. Cursing, he risked a glance over his shoulder, but he saw nothing.

But he could swear that, through the broken back window, he felt the hot stench of hell’s breath.

“Sam! Sam, what’s happening?”

Metal grated. The few bits of glass still on that back windshield broke away. “You tell me,” he shouted, but he knew what was happening.

He’d fallen for lying eyes. Innocence that he should have known was a trick for a demon. He lunged forward as far as he could and drove the gas pedal down to the ground as he deliberately jerked the steering wheel from the left to the right in an attempt to dislodge their new passenger.

Sam knew a hellhound had hitched a ride with them.

Sonofabitch. A succubus shouldn’t be able to summon a hellhound.

Invisible claws ripped into his shoulder, and deep rivulets of blood sprayed into the air.

“Sam! What’s happening?” Terror and fear seemed to cloak Seline’s lying words.

He grabbed her hand and held tight even as he fought to steer with his left hand. “Call it off,” he demanded. Because he understood—finally—just what was going on. No wonder the hound hadn’t so much as scratched Seline’s skin . . . the beast couldn’t.

A hellhound could never hurt its master.

He risked a fast glance at her—even as claws raked him again—but he didn’t free her hand. “Call it the f**k off.”

“Call what off?” She didn’t try to tug free. Her eyes were wide and scared—and black as night. “There’s nothing back there!”

Nothing that could be seen, not yet, but the beast’s claws and teeth could sure be felt.

“It’s your hound.” Why hadn’t he seen this before? He’d been so unconcerned with Seline’s “other” half. A hybrid . . . hell, he’d been so blind.

The hound hadn’t attacked her.

The beast had found them too fast, and there was only one way a hound could track this fast.

The hellhound had honed in on its master.

And the next words had to be said, because that last swipe of the beast’s claws had come too close to his neck. “Call it off . . . or you die.” If a hound’s master wouldn’t call the beast back, then the only way to stop a hellhound was to kill that master.

Without the master, the hound went back to hell instantly.

“What?” Her hoarse whisper.

His hold tightened on her. He could hear the beast’s snarls now. Hungry growls. The hound wanted a soul to feed on. Too bad. His wasn’t on the menu. “Pull the beast back . . . or go to hell with the hound.” Betrayed. All of it had been a setup, and he’d been too blind to see the truth.

Lust had made him stupid.

The hound’s growls kept rumbling in his ears, and he had to dodge more swipes from those claws. The truck pushed forward faster, faster, and he felt razor-sharp teeth press into the back of his neck.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Now Seline was fighting to pull free of his grip. “Sam, you’re scaring me!”

She wasn’t going to call the beast back. Damn her. “The hellhound . . .” Those teeth clipped his throat. Fire burned along Sam’s flesh. “Send the beast back, now!” Another fast glance at her.

Her eyes were huge and filmed with the glimmer of tears. Tears. He’d never seen her cry. Fear had her face paling, and he knew she understood as she stared at the wounds spreading on his body. Those growls and snarls filled the truck as the hound gained strength from Sam’s blood.

“I-I can’t.” Her confession and she stopped trying to pull away from him. “I’m sorry . . .”

So was he. Power pumped through him. He had to do what was necessary for survival.