“What? No, you’re an angel, your job is—”
“Death.” He yanked open the door. “The last time I hesitated, an innocent woman became a vampire.” He glanced back at her. “I won’t make the same mistake.”
Then he was gone—racing out to face the vampire hunters who didn’t want his blood.
Mine.
She ran after him because Nicole had learned—the hard way—how to fight her own battles.
If she had to do it, she’d kill Mike because he wasn’t sending her to hell.
Though it looked like she’d have to send him there.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Still got your guard dog, bitch?” Mike shouted the minute he saw Nicole step onto the wooden porch.
Keenan locked his back teeth. The human had been given every chance, but still he sought death. Humans. Didn’t they understand it really was all about free will?
Mike could have walked away …
Instead of coming straight for death.
“You gonna hide behind him again this time?” Mike stalked closer, and then his left hand came up—a hand holding a gun. “Do it. Cause I want to see just how strong that bastard is.”
Keenan rolled his shoulders but Nicole jumped in front of him. “My fight,” she whispered to him, then she raised her voice and called out to Mike, “This is your last chance. I don’t want to kill you—”
“I want to kill you, bitch! I want to slice your throat open, rip out your heart, cut the skin right off—”
“I don’t want to,” she yelled over his threats. “But I will.” Absolute certainty. Then, voice dropping, turning mean and cold, she said, “Just like I killed your brother.”
The five men on the bikes behind Mike didn’t move. Mike’s face hardened, twisting with hate.
“This time, I’m the one who’s ready.” Mike aimed the gun at Nicole. “Ready to die, vamp?”
“You mean again?” Nicole asked.
Keenan knew that even during the day, bullets wouldn’t kill her.
She stalked toward Mike, the thud of her footsteps seeming to echo as she headed down the front stoop. “No, I’m not particularly ready to—”
He shot her.
She’d dodged to the side, so the bullet missed her chest, but Keenan heard it thud as the bullet went into her shoulder. She trembled a bit and slid back a step. But then she shook her head. “Try again.”
Keenan’s admiration for her kicked up a notch.
She glanced back and her gaze met Keenan’s for an instant. “Stay back … my fight.”
The others didn’t get off their bikes. Didn’t make a move for their weapons. Maybe they were just there to watch the show.
He’d be sure to give them a real fine show.
Her blood was dripping on the ground.
Did she really think he was just going to stand back and watch?
His fingers began to shake, so he balled them into fists. The wind kicked up and blew against his face.
“You’re weak!” Mike snarled, that gun still up. “Can’t take much more of this before you go down.” He fired again. Missed her. Aimed. Fired.
Hit.
This one grazed her arm. Slowed her a bit. More blood flowed. She was halfway to her target.
Mike smiled. “Now!”
Then his buddies stopped watching. Their hands dove into their satchels, and they all came up with bottles.
“Burn the bitch!” Mike ordered.
They started throwing the bottles right at Nicole. She swatted them away. More bottles flew, some with burning rags in them.
No!
Not just her fight—theirs.
Keenan flew off the porch. He grabbed her in his arms and turned so that when the Molotov cocktails hit, they crashed into his back. The bottles rained down and a fire sprang at their feet.
Nicole screamed, and he saw the fire eating at her shirt.
The hunters had been prepared this time.
“Special brew, bitch! Somethin’ I picked up from a voodoo shop down here! Somethin’ to burn a vamp right to ash!”
Keenan held her tight and raced forward, shoving through the fire that circled them. Once they made it past that line of flames, they crashed onto the ground. The fire was on him, eating at his flesh, but he barely felt the pain.
Not like when I fell.
Nothing would be like that fire.
He rolled Nicole and slapped at the flames on her clothes. She was crying, thick tears rolling down her cheeks. Angry red blisters were all over her.
But his skin was already healing.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, the rage making his voice lethal. “I’ve got them.”