Angel Betrayed

She hit the ground and pain was all that she knew. Her body ached, her throat burned from her screams, and bruises and blisters covered her naked form.

She pushed to her feet. Stared at her hands . . . broken hands she didn’t recognize. A body she didn’t recognize.

The worst pain came from her shoulders—no, her back. She tried to touch the skin, and she felt thick, hard ridges beneath her fingertips.

Tears leaked from her eyes.

She wanted to curl up. To sink back on the ground and sob.

But she stayed on her feet.

The wind brushed against her body. In the distance, she could just see the light of the sun.

Dawn.

A new day.

She began to walk toward that light. Slow steps because the rough rocks cut her bare feet and blood trickled in her wake.

She walked and wondered . . .

Who the hell am I?

And why did she feel like she had to hurry?

As if ... as if someone waited.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The crowd at Sunrise was even louder than she remembered. Seline walked slowly toward the dark red doors—the entrance. Demons were stationed at those doors, bouncers with glamour hiding their true selves.

She could see right through that glamour.

Two months ago, when she’d seen her first demon, Seline had thought she was crazy. She’d run from him, even as he shouted, “If I go back without you, Sam’s gonna kill me!”

Sam.

A name she knew . . . now. She hadn’t then, and she’d been terrified of the “Sam” who tracked her.

Seline pushed through the crowd that waited eagerly for a spot inside Sunrise, and she made her way to those red doors. The bouncers glanced her way. Their eyes widened when they saw her.

“Are you—shit, are you—” The one with the bald head and snake tattoos began.

Seline just nodded before he could finish speaking. “Is he here?”

The other bouncer yanked open the door for her. “Yes.”

She let her eyes flash to black. “Good.” All of her power was back now. Good, bad, and everything in between.

Guess they couldn’t totally kill my dark side. Maybe that fact should scare her. It didn’t.

She rather liked her dark side. Without it, she probably wouldn’t have survived the last few months.

When she strolled inside Sunrise, humans muttered behind her, not understanding why she’d gotten her free pass. Too bad for them.

Bodies filled the interior of the bar. Dancers twisted and undulated on the stage. And in cages . . . ah, the cages were new. They reminded her of... well, a night that made her ache.

Her gaze searched the club.

There. Surrounded by his demons. Sam stood near the bar, tall, strong, but his profile looked more haggard. The lines on his face appeared deeper.

Sammael.

As she watched, his fist slammed onto the bar top and the mirrored surface shattered. “I don’t want f**king excuses! I want her!”

Seline strode forward. With every step she took, her heart raced faster. So fast she thought the thing would rip out of her chest.

Then Sam looked in the mirror. He caught sight of her reflection. She saw him shake his head, as if denying what he was seeing.

She smiled. “Hello, Sam.”

He spun around. “Seline!”

Before she could take a breath, he had her in his arms. His mouth crushed onto hers and, oh, it was what she wanted, what she remembered, from those fevered dreams that wouldn’t leave her alone.

Dreams that she was sure she’d been sharing with him.

His fingers held her so tightly that Seline knew she’d bruise, but she didn’t care. She was holding him just as tightly. Won’t ever let go.

His tongue thrust into her mouth. She stood onto her toes and pressed her body against his. More, more . . . she needed him.

The dreams had started a month ago. The first one had scared her to death, and turned her on.

She’d seen a tall, dark man. His eyes had been pitch-black. He’d looked at her with such lust she’d trembled. He’d reached for her. Took her hand. Kissed her palm, then said, “I need more than dreams, Seline. Come back to me.”

Then she’d started finding her way home.

His head lifted, slowly, and she immediately missed his touch. “You’re real?” he asked, voice gruff. “Not another dream.”

“No, I’m real.” She’d rehearsed her speech a hundred times, but now she wasn’t sure what she should say to him.

Four months. It had taken her that long to find her way back to him.

What’s four months compared to a thousand years?