Angel of Darkness (The Fallen #1)(7)
Author: Cynthia Eden

And it must have been a trick of the light, because her green eyes seemed to darken with her fear.

Then she spun around and leapt over the fence.

Leapt over that six-foot-high fence in one bound.

“Get her!” The old man screamed.

“Don’t even think of touching her,” Keenan said, his voice quiet, but cutting through the guy’s scream like a knife. He could hear the thud of Nicole’s footsteps as she fled—she was rushing away far faster than a human could run.

But Nicole was human.

No, she had been human.

The men paused, for just a moment, then they sprang for the fence.

“I said,” Keenan growled, the fury breaking through his control because he still hadn’t fully mastered the whole control concept, “don’t even think of—”

The old guy lifted his gun and pointed it at Keenan’s chest. “This fight ain’t yours.”

Romeo made it over the fence. Two others were right on his heels.

Keenan stepped toward the gun. “Yes. It is.”

“She would’ve killed you tonight.” The gun barrel trembled in the old man’s hands. “You’re lucky, we saved you—”

Keenan grabbed the gun in a move too fast for the human’s eyes to track. He slammed the butt of the weapon into the man’s head and heard the thud of impact even as the guy fell to the ground. And as the man fell, Keenan turned fast and fired the gun—once, twice—and took down the men still in the back alley.

He didn’t kill them. He just gave them something painful to remember him by. “Go after her again,” he promised, “and the bullets will be in your hearts.”

They didn’t answer because they were too busy groaning in pain and writhing on the ground. Keenan stared at them a moment longer as he memorized their faces. He always kept his promises.

He turned, holding the gun close, and jumped right over the fence. He followed the sound of the screams and the scent of the blood as he tracked his prey once more.

Nicole wasn’t getting away from him, and those bastards after her would learn that when an angel spoke—they damn well better listen.

Even if that angel had fallen.

Outrunning humans wasn’t normally hard. But when the humans in question had baited a trap and you’d walked right into it because you were so freaking thirsty—well, then things became considerably more difficult.

Nicole’s knees barely buckled as she cleared the fence, and, seconds later, she started streaking across the empty lot as she rushed for the darkness on the other side.

Then the growl reached her. A deep rumble of sound—a truck’s engine. The truck’s headlights flashed on, coming right out of that waiting darkness, and she realized just how good the trap truly was for her.

They’d known she’d come to the bar. They’d known she’d be hungry. They’d known she’d take a man outside for her drink.

Then all they’d had to do was make certain her escape path was cut off.

The truck roared toward her, tossing up dust and dirt in its wake as it aimed right for her.

Nicole lunged to the left. A gunshot fired behind her and she felt the close rush of the bullet as it whipped by her arm. Dammit, why couldn’t they let her go?

The truck swerved and followed right behind her. She was fast, but not faster than a truck.

The bumper hit her and she went down. Nicole slammed into the dirt, but she rolled quickly so those wheels didn’t plow right over her.

Dirt filled her lungs. Blood poured from the gashes in her arms. And the thirst grew. I went too long between feedings. Shouldn’t have waited.

But she hated to drink blood. It reminded her too much of what she was. Monster.

And when she drank, the dark temptation to take and take welled within her.

A truck door squeaked open. “We hit her!” Not a Mexican accent this time. She recognized Texas when she heard it.

The other door groaned open. “Keep yer gun on her. It’ll take more than a smack from my Chevy to put one like her down.”

Yes, it would, but Nicole kept her eyes closed and kept her breathing light. The men eased closer. She could smell their sweat and their fear.

And excitement.

Other footsteps pounded in the distance—her would-be victim and his buddies must be coming in.

Then she heard the thunder of a gunshot. One. Two. But she didn’t flinch at the blasts. If they wanted to shoot at each other, fine with her. Infighting meant fewer guys for her to fight off later.

The ground vibrated with the footsteps of her hunters. She waited, held steady, waited and—

The first man nudged her with his boot. No, not a nudge. The jerk kicked her with his boot. She turned, moving fast in an instant, and caught his legs. Twisting hard, she broke his right leg, then his left. He was screaming before he hit the ground.

And she was up. Nicole slammed her fist into the other attacker’s face. Bones crunched. Blood spurted, and oh, she would have taken a drink. Fitting punishment for them running her down like a wild dog, but …

But she needed to get the hell out of there.

More bullets were flying, but they weren’t even coming near her. Someone must have real crappy aim. She darted around the truck and ran for the shrouding darkness once more. There’d better not be another truck waiting there.

Nicole risked one quick glance over shoulder, and when she did, shock had her tripping.

Only one man followed her now. What had happened to the others? She’d counted at least six before she’d run like the devil was chasing her.

Been there, done that.

The man striding so calmly across that barren field had a gun in his hand. But as she looked at him, he tossed the gun onto the ground. Wait, wait, that wasn’t the guy she’d intended to steal a few sips from in that dark lot. That was … him. The stranger with the voice like thunder’s rumble. Deep and dark and, oh, damn, she was in trouble.

Nicole made it into the darkness in the tattered remains of the woods. She pushed inside the trees, still hurrying. She’d scouted this area earlier. There was a turn up ahead that would lead her back to old sedan she’d parked and—

The thirst.

Nicole swallowed and kept moving. Her mantra these days was just keep moving. That was the way she’d been living her life. One wild step at a time.

As she broke from the woods, she saw her sedan waiting. Lucky for her, that beaten-up gray shell still managed to drive. Her breath expelled in a hard whoosh as she sprinted forward. She’d head to the next town. There was just enough time to get there before dawn. She’d drive over and find more prey.