He’d always known some humans deserved death. Deserved to scream and beg for mercy.
He wouldn’t give mercy this time.
He kissed her cheek. Tasted her tears. The scent of blood and fire filled his nose.
“Nicole?” Fear had his gut clenching.
But she nodded. “I-I’m … okay.” Bleeding, bloody, burning, but alive.
Until the next attack. With Az breathing down her neck, she wouldn’t survive many more hunter attacks.
And the bastards were laughing as she bled and ached.
“I’ll kill them for you.” A simple promise. Right, wrong. It didn’t matter anymore. He brushed a shaking fingertip over her cheek. “I’ll kill them.” He was on his feet. He ran toward Mike and the bastards with him.
Mike and his men were already on their bikes, revving their engines. Trying to get away.
Mike’s motorcycle flew away in a hail of gravel. Two others followed him.
No, they wouldn’t get away.
Keenan lunged forward and caught one bastard around the neck and yanked him off the bike. The man’s head—minus helmet—slammed into the ground.
Keenan jumped on the bike. He locked his hands around the handlebars and leaned in low as the motorcycle leapt forward.
You’re not escaping.
He’d hunt the bastards down. He’d take them out.
Nicole would be safe.
The roar of his rage was the only sound he heard.
Death.
“Keenan, no!” Nicole was on her feet, her arm throbbing, her side aching, her clothes—still smoking—and she shouted as loud as she could.
But Keenan didn’t stop.
She knew he wouldn’t, not until …
I’ll kill them for you.
Was this really what she’d done? Turned an angel into an assassin?
Her breath hissed out at the pain as she hurried to the man on the ground. She needed blood. She’d have to take his. Donating was the least the guy could do for her—he’d tried to burn her alive.
She dropped to her knees, reached for him, and realized, too late, that he was dead.
His horror-filled eyes stared up at her. His mouth was wide open while his face was frozen in a mask of pain and terror.
Her hands ran over him. No broken neck. No broken bones at all. No wounds, no blood, nothing.
But still very, very dead.
As she stared at him, trying to understand what had happened, a new scent teased her nose. Wild, musky, like an animal.
“You really are just a baby to this game, aren’t you?” A male voice asked, one with a hint of Mexico purring beneath the words. “Querida, you don’t even know what I am, do you?”
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head to the right. A man walked from the woods. His shoulders were pushed back, his pace slow and steady, and a wide grin stretched across his handsome face.
Dark hair. Dark eyes. Square jaw. Cruel lips.
A face she’d seen before.
Mexico. Carlos.
Prey that had become hunter. Nicole jumped to her feet and felt the lash of pain sweep over her. “What … what are you doing here?” Dumb question. Like the others, he was there to kill her.
Because of what she was.
He smile widened even as his gaze raked her. “That looks like it hurts.”
It did. She wouldn’t stop hurting until she drank and healed.
“Off to stop them, isn’t he? Off to kill them … for you.”
She needed a weapon stronger than her claws. “I wasn’t going to hurt you that night. I was just—”
“Thirsty.” He smiled and his teeth looked far too sharp to be human.
Vampire? No, a vamp wouldn’t care if she got a little hungry.
He lifted his hand and his claws were out. Not sharpened, razor-sharp fingernails like she had but actual, real claws. The kind an animal would have.
Oh, shit.
That scent, the claws …
“Figuring it out, eh? Took you long enough.” He sauntered closer.
Weapon!
The fire sputtered on the ground but there was a broken bottle nearby. She grabbed it and held the jagged glass toward him. Glass had worked for her once before.
“Did you think that since you’re undead, you’re at the top of the food chain now?” His teeth snapped together. “Not even close.”
“Y-you’re a shifter.” She should have realized that fact sooner. But she’d been so hungry in Mexico. She’d noticed the scent was off, but … bad mistake.
“Um. Guess I am.” He shrugged. “That glass isn’t goin’ to hurt me. Unlike you, I’m not weak during the day.” His dark gaze dropped to her neck. “If I wanted, I could rip out your throat right now.”