Angel Betrayed

No change of expression crossed his face. But his head came closer to hers and his lips—why would that cruel edge be sexy?—pressed against her mouth. She expected the kiss to be hard and rough. What else? But when his mouth took hers, it was just . . . a taste.

His tongue licked her lips and stroked inside her mouth. Slow. Easy. As if he were sampling her.

Her tongue slipped to meet his. To taste. To want. Sam.

When he pulled back, she had to fight to keep her hands off him. Or rather, she had to fight not to yank the guy back and take a lot more from him. Dangerous.

His gaze studied her a moment, and she barely dared to breathe. “I’m not human,” he finally agreed, his voice a deep rumble. “But neither are you, sweetheart. Neither are you.”

True enough. Now this was the dicey part. Time for some half-truth, half-lies. “You know I’m a demon.” Yeah, and good for her, she could admit that truth without flinching in shame anymore.

“Like to like,” he murmured. “That’s the way, right?”

Right. In the Other world, paranormals could recognize their own kind. Maybe it was Mother Nature’s way of making sure the Other didn’t vanish into the mist. If you recognized your own kind, it sure made mating within the same subset easier. Demons could see right through the magic glamour that shielded their kind from human attention. The easiest tip-off that you were dealing with a fellow demon? Go for the eyes.

A demon’s real eyes were pitch-black. The lens, the sclera—everything was black. But thanks to the glamour that even the least powerful of demons could manage, humans never saw that telling stare. Well, not unless the demons wanted them to see. In that case . . . good-bye, human. Because when you saw that darkness, death was coming.

Seline cloaked her black stare with glamour, twenty-four/ seven. For her, it was as natural as breathing. When humans looked into her eyes, they saw a warm brown gaze, not that chilling black.

But Sam . . . his eyes were different. She’d caught the slip of his eye color once. Just once—when Temptation had burst into flames, and she’d been trapped in the fire. His bright blue stare had faded to black then. She’d almost missed that change because of the freaking fire all around her.

One slip had shown her his true nature. But the problem was that she should have always been able to see the black of his eyes. He shouldn’t have been able to maintain a shield against her.

Sam wasn’t your average demon. Actually, she wasn’t even convinced he was a demon because there was something else rather unusual about him. When she looked at him hard enough, long enough, Seline could see the dark, shadowy image of . . . wings on his back.

Demons didn’t have wings.

Sure, she’d heard of some really, really old demons who had tails and one guy with cloven feet, but wings? Not so much a demon thing.

I know what you are. So that was lie number one for her. When it came to Sam, she didn’t know. Not that knowing truly mattered.

“So the people after you . . .” He dropped his hold and stepped back. Seline didn’t like that calculating stare he swept over her. “Are they demons?”

“No. They’re humans.”

He grunted. “Then you should have no problem taking them out.” Cold and flat and exactly what she’d expected.

“I’m low level,” she admitted, and lowered her eyes because most demons could be ashamed to admit this. I’m not most. “Barely a four on the power scale.” That wicked demon power scale that had screwed up most of her life. Demon power ranked from a one, barely more than a human in terms of psychic power, to a ten. A ten would be the powerhouse capable of leveling a city block.

She was not such a bad-ass. If only. Her strengths lay in other areas.

Her hands balled into fists. “They’ll take me out. I’ve been running from them for nearly a year, but they keep finding me. They want payback, and they won’t stop until they get it.”

He sighed. “Seline . . .”

He spoke her name the way a man would say it in bed. Seductive and—

“What in the hell,” he continued in that same seductive tone that had her nearly aching, “makes you think I give a damn?”

She blinked. “But . . . but I helped you!” So not the way I’d imagined this going down.

He shook his head. “I didn’t need your help with the shifter. No coyote will ever be able to take me down.”

“If you don’t help me, they’ll kill me.” Had he missed that part? She’d thought she emphasized it dramatically well. Maybe she should think about shedding a tear or two.