The thunder of his heartbeat filled his ears. Rogziel became aware of the sweat slowly trickling down his back. “I have my wings. I am favored.”

“The hell you are. Try to go back upstairs.” Now Tomas laughed. “Bet you’ll find out they changed the locks on you. You aren’t favored by anyone, and when Sammael gets a hold of you . . . you’ll be burning.”

For an instant, Rogziel’s vision went red. His body trembled with the effort to hold back. He wanted to lunge forward and tear Tomas apart.

This one dared to judge him? For centuries, he’d punished the wicked. He’d seen the worst humanity had to offer. He’d punished.

And he would continue to punish. He didn’t need assignments anymore. He could smell the wicked. See the sin.

He turned away from Tomas. “I will give Sierra your regards.” When I let her feel the wrath that is her punishment.

“No!”

Just that quickly, the arrogance and fury were gone from Tomas’s voice. But Rogziel didn’t look back. Tomas needed a lesson.

Changed the locks . . .

A blood lesson.

“Leave her alone! Dammit, just stop, Rogziel!”

But Rogziel had planned this moment. He opened the door to the connecting room and found his prey waiting. Her hands were bound to the chair behind her. A blindfold covered her eyes. Duct tape smothered her screams.

She’d been working on a site in Mexico. An archaeologist, digging into the past.

No wonder Tomas had been in the area. Some sins always drew you in.

He cut through the binds on her wrists, and he knew the blade sliced her flesh when tears leaked from her eyes. He hauled her up, not caring when she immediately shoved back her blindfold.

What did it matter if she saw his face? She wouldn’t be escaping alive.

He dragged her into the room with Tomas. Tomas—still yelling. But when he saw Sierra, he froze and his cries died on his lips.

“Now, I think you may be understanding your situation better,” Rogziel said. His humans had brought Sierra to him. Always so eager to please. He’d make sure they were rewarded one day.

In the end, everyone always got the reward they deserved.

Rogziel yanked off the duct tape from the human’s mouth. “Recognize him?” He asked her.

Sierra stared at Tomas. Her brow furrowed and her lips quivered. Then, slowly, almost sadly, she shook her head.

Rogziel laughed—deep, bellowing laughter that shook his chest. “You fell . . . you traded your powers . . . and she doesn’t even know who you are?”

“Let her go!”

Sierra trembled in his grasp. Her red hair brushed against Rogziel’s fingertips. “I’m going to punish her. She made an angel fall.”

“You’re crazy, buddy!” Sierra twisted against him, but Rogziel wasn’t about to let her go. “Crazy! You can’t do this! I’m—”

“What do you want?” Tomas asked, voice muted and his eyes on Sierra.

It was the question Tomas had asked twice before, but this time, Rogziel knew Tomas was really saying, I’ll do what you want.

“I want Sammael.” He was the problem. He was the one deserving hell. Sammael had destroyed Seline. He’d flaunted his transgressions for centuries. Sammael was the one who would be punished.

First.

“He thinks you’re . . . friends,” Rogziel told him. Foolish of Sammael. “He came to save you.”

Tomas’s head moved in a jerk that was agreement.

“Now you’re going to make sure that I kill him.” He ran his fingers down Sierra’s throat. “Or you’ll watch me hurt her. An eye for an eye . . .”

“Get your hands off her!”

“Give me Sammael, and you can have your human.”

Sierra stared at him with wide eyes. “You have the wrong woman! Just let me go, okay? Please, let me—”

More laughter tumbled from Rogziel. Tomas was willing to trade his life for a woman who didn’t even know him. Priceless.

“You fell for nothing,” he told Tomas, and disgust thickened his words. Heaven, for this?

“No,” Tomas said with certainty. “I fell for everything.” His eyes blazed at Rogziel. “Get me out of this witch’s prison, and I’ll give you Sammael. I vow it.”

If another man looked at Seline like she was some kind of dessert, Sam was going to erupt. He crowded closer to Seline. “We need to get out of here.” She smelled like an aphrodisiac. Silken woman. Sensual heat.

No wonder the guys in the joint were foaming at the mouth.

He grabbed her wrist. “Correction, we’re getting out of here, now.”

She turned her bedroom eyes on him. Sexy, but . . . sad. Because her stare looked a bit lost. The power pumping through her was obvious, but Seline appeared scared.

He wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’ll take care of you.”

A sad laugh slipped from her lips. “You almost killed me.”

The woman wasn’t going to let him forget that. He waved his hand and pushed the others back, clearing a path to the door. “I damn well didn’t almost kill you. I had to get the hound off my neck.” Literally. “Braking the truck so hard was my only option.”

“But you said . . .”

He’d said a lot of dumbass things. He didn’t always know what to say to her or what to do with her. “I thought you’d lied to me. That you’d set me up from the beginning.” So he’d gone a little crazy. But he’d never touched her and thought of death.

With Seline, it was always about life. She made him feel more alive than anything or anyone else could.

He led her outside. Three motorcycles were waiting by the curb. So thoughtful of some folks. He jumped on the newest one, had it hot-wired in three seconds, and he told Seline, “Hold on.”

They had a meeting at dawn. He was done running. The game was changing, but first . . .

First he needed Seline.

Pedro’s place was an inn, of sorts, on the edge of town. Not for humans. They rarely wandered that far off the beaten path. But, over the years, Pedro’s had been a safe house of sorts for paranormals. Since Pedro had split town a few weeks ago, Sam knew the place would be perfect for crashing.

They didn’t speak as they drove through town. Sam was too conscious of Seline’s body pressing against his. Her scent surrounded him and, every breath he took, Sam swore he tasted her.

The old inn came into sight soon enough. He braked and made sure to hide the bike under some bushes.




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