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Angel of Darkness

Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(45)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Oh, hell.

An image flashed in her mind. A big, burly guy with fists that had been thick and hard as he drove them into her face.

Then that body had fallen, sagged so quickly. When his head hit the cement, Jeff Quint’s eyes had been wide open, and so had his throat.

She grabbed Keenan’s arm and tried to shove him away. “I-I’ve got this. You go, I’ll meet you back at—” Our place. Had she really almost said that? She swallowed and forced a smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

But Keenan wasn’t moving. Not even an inch. “No way, sweet. I’m not leaving you alone to face—”

Laughter cut him off.

“You really think somebody like her needs protectin’?” That stake rose. “What she needs is a good killin’.” Mutters of agreement came from the men behind him. “Hell, even death’s too damn good for her. She needs to suffer.”

“Tell the bitch, Mike!” One of his buddies called out, and, of course, the buddy had a stake, too.

Not my night.

But then, she’d known this night would come for some time. A night of reckoning. They wanted her blood. It seemed only fair, considering she’d taken all of Jeff’s.

“I didn’t want to kill him.” She said the words without looking at Keenan. She couldn’t look at him then. Time he found out the truth. She stepped away from him and the alley wall and faced the vengeance that was coming.

“Right. You just tripped …” Mike closed in on her. “And your teeth landed in his throat.” A snarl burst from his fat lips. “Jeff was my brother, the only f**kin’ family I had. I knew vamps were after us, but I never expected a fresh-faced piece of ass like you … guess he didn’t either.”

No.

She could feel Keenan’s stare on her. She glanced his way, just for an instant. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Then he can damn well leave.” Mike grabbed her shoulder, his fingers digging deep. “But you’re only gettin’ out of this alley in pieces.”

The alley seemed to tremble. “Get your hand off her.” Keenan’s too-lethal voice.

But Mike only had eyes and bloodlust for her. “Jeff and me … you know how many vamps we killed?”

No, but all the vamp slaying would explain why she’d been sent after Jeff Quint. He preys on us. Now we prey on him. Rip out his throat. Make him bleed. Make him beg. How long had those words played through her mind? Over and over, until her will was gone and all she could do when Jeff came at her that night was … attack.

He hadn’t even had the chance to get out his stake.

Not like his big brother.

Mike didn’t take his hand off her. Those thick fingers just dug deeper as they seemed to squeeze right to the bone. Behind him, the guys—five of them, all big, leather-clad and with go-to-hell grins—began to close in.

“I gave you a chance to run,” Mike snapped at Keenan. “Last call, dumbass. You stand with the vamp bitch or you save your own ass and get the hell out of here.”

“Get out of here, Keenan,” she whispered. She was going to fight, but this wasn’t his fight. In case things didn’t go her way—the odds were a bit heavy in old Mike’s favor—she didn’t want Keenan paying for her crimes.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze burned into Mike. “Get the hand off her, human, or lose it.”

She had the feeling he really, really meant those words. “Keenan …”

But Mike didn’t drop his hold. He did bring up his stake, getting it too close to her heart for comfort.

Then Keenan shoved his hand against Mike’s chest. Mike flew back into the air and slammed into two of his biker buddies.

“You had your chance,” Keenan said. “Dumbass, you should have backed off while you could.”

Mike sprang back to his feet and attacked, with all his men running right behind him. Six against two. Not bad odds. Actually kind of good considering the bikers were human and—

Keenan jumped in front of her, swinging out with his fist and sending two guys flying back. The men hit the walls of the alley and didn’t get up.

Okay, four against two. Even better.

Keenan grabbed the next guy around the throat. The stake dropped from the blond’s hand as he clawed at Keenan’s hold, struggling to get free. His pale face began to purple.

She grabbed for Keenan’s arm, afraid the guy was about to die right there. “Keenan, no.”

“Callin’ back your dog?” Mike was there, charging by Keenan and coming for her. “Nothin’ can save you, bitch, nothin’!”

He ran at her with the stake up. His buddies took Keenan, swarming him. Her teeth burned, her claws lengthened, and when Mike lunged at her with that stake—

She just ripped it out of his hands, broke it, and tossed the pieces behind her.

That didn’t stop Mike. No, he swung at her and slammed his fist right into her face.

Definitely remember that.

The bloodlust rose but she stumbled back.

“That’s right, run, get ready to bleed.”

Um, no. She wouldn’t be bleeding for him. His fist came at her again. She caught it in her left hand. Then her fist went at him, plowing into his cheek. Not the light hit of her pre-vamp days. Nicole swung with a blow strong enough to break Mike’s jaw. When the bones crunched, she knew the punch had broken his jaw.

He kicked out, his booted heel aiming for her stomach, but she twisted and he missed her, and he fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” she said the words between pants. “If I had it all to do again …” But there’d been no choice at the end. He’d fought her and if she hadn’t killed him, he would have taken her head.

“Fuckin’ bitch …” Mike shoved up and yanked a knife out of his boot. “He should’ve killed you.” He shot off the ground and sliced with his knife.

The blade never touched her skin. Keenan grabbed Mike’s hand, twisted, broke the guy’s wrist, and the knife clattered to the ground.

“I said you’d lose this hand,” Keenan reminded him.

Veins bulged along Mike’s neck.

Behind them, she saw the scattered remains of Mike’s crew. Still alive—she could see their chests moving—but out of commission. No backup for Mike.

Nicole stalked to the biker. She didn’t touch him. Wouldn’t.

“Gonna bite me now?” Blood dripped from his lips.

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