Death could be kind or he could be cruel. Tonight, he felt damn cruel.

Sammael’s dark wings flapped behind him as he watched his prey. The stench of blood and sweat clung to the men. They’d fought hard and long that day. They’d killed so many—men, women, and children. Sammael had taken the souls from the broken bodies. They’d seen him coming—only those slipping from the mortal world ever saw an angel of death—and their eyes had filled with terror.

So many dead in such a short time. He’d watched their slaughter. Stood back while they begged and screamed.

His job was only to take the souls. He gave them peace after their suffering. He served. He didn’t question.

Until now.

There was no reason for him to be in this forest. No reason for him to watch these men. They weren’t on the list for death, not tonight anyway.

They were laughing and drinking. They didn’t sense him. No one ever did—not until it was too late.

Blood still stained their hands.

Watch and wait and take the souls when it is time. That was his job, and it was the job he’d done for centuries.

Angels didn’t feel emotion. They didn’t feel lust or love or rage.

No, angels weren’t supposed to feel. But he’d never fit into that perfect mold. Lately, he’d been feeling too much, and he just couldn’t shut off the fury.

Sammael dropped to the ground. His wings closed in behind him. To kill, to take a soul, he only needed one touch. Just one.

He smiled at the men. Some were stiffening and glancing around, as if they sensed him.

They only see an angel when death is at hand.

Sammael reached for the first man. Death is at hand for you. One touch and the human fell to the ground with an expression of twisted agony contorting his face. The laughter stopped then, and the scent of fear teased Sammael’s nose.

His black wings spread behind him, powerful and strong. When the others began to run and scream, his smile stretched.

No more watching.

Another touch and another body hit the ground. Again and again. The laughter that filled the air was his now. He had the power, and he didn’t feel like being kind to the mortals around him.

Shouts of “devil” and “monster” filled the air. The shouts were almost insulting, but he didn’t really expect these fools to recognize an angel.

They saw him now because he’d changed their fate. Marked by death now. Death was closing in, and they couldn’t fight him. There would be no escape.

When they ran, he just flew after them. He caught the men, lifted them up into the air, and then tossed their dead bodies back to the ground.

“Please…mercy!” One man’s desperate cry.

He had no mercy.

He touched and he killed until no one was left.

When the haze of rage cleared from his eyes, the dead circled him.

The smile still lifted his lips when the wind began to whip against Sammael’s body. The wind howled, screaming like the dead men—no, like those women had screamed earlier that day when they’d been slaughtered. Like the children had screamed when he’d just stood there and watched the bastards attack.

No more watching.

He had the power. He’d take it, and he’d kill anyone he wanted.

Sammael’s body jerked into the air. He flew, high, higher, way past the clouds and back to the domain of the angels. But he didn’t return to heaven on his own accord. They yanked him back.

“Sammael.” His brother’s voice boomed as Sammael dropped onto the marble floor. “What have you done?”

Sammael rose slowly and let his wings stretch behind him. His shoulders rolled as he stared at Azrael. He didn’t have to answer to the other angel. When it came to the hierarchy of the death angels, Sammael was at the top. Everyone else should bow to him. They would all learn that lesson. “Don’t dare to question me.” He was the power. It was past time that he started to use that strength.

But his brother just shook his blond head. “You took them. It wasn’t their time.”

“I made it their time.” No apology. His gaze swept the room. Heavy with thick, white columns. Walls adorned with gold. Perfect. Opulent.

Prison.

Sammael turned away and headed for the gold-plated doors.

Az appeared in his path and blocked his way. The other angel had always been fast.

I’m faster.

“We don’t judge,” Az said, voice flat. “We deliver those that are charged to us. We are not to interfere in the lives of humans. You know this.”

Ah, his brother had better be careful. It almost sounded like some emotion had slipped into Az’s voice.

“I know we have the power to kill,” Sammael told him. “So I killed.” And for the first time, it had felt…good. Want more.

“No, you punished.”

Perhaps. But those men had deserved a good punishment. An eye for an eye, and a death for a death.

“There are others who dole out punishment,” Az continued, his bright blue stare seeming to blaze right at Sammael. “Uriel is⁠—”

“I just served them up to Uriel early.” Uriel and the band of punishment angels that served under his wings. Wrath. Destruction. Annihilation.

Oh, how he envied them.

Envy. One of the seven deadly sins. Angels weren’t supposed to sin. Only humans could sin and be forgiven. Angels weren’t allowed that luxury.

They can torture. They can kill.

What about me?

“They would have found their way to Uriel’s hands sooner or later,” Sammael said with a dismissive wave. He didn’t back away from his brother. He never would. “I just sped up the process.”

Az shook his head, and his hair brushed his shoulders. “You disobeyed.”

Sammael was tired of pretending. Not perfect. Never was. “And I’ll do it again.” He let the grim smile tilt his lips once more. “Humans don’t have the power. We do. I do.” He’d be using his power from now on. Humans would learn they should be afraid.

“That is not the way!”

“It is for me.” He shoved his brother aside. “The rules are changing. The ones who get in my way, they will fear, and they will die.” Because he wasn’t going to watch anything, not anymore.

“Brother…” Az sighed after him. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

The golden doors wouldn’t open. Sammael grabbed them and pushed as hard as he could, but they wouldn’t budge. The wind was howling again and that painful screech filled his ears.

Angels don’t feel pain. But that wind—the noise hurt.

The wind caught Sammael’s body and carried him into the air. He hung suspended, his wings flapping helplessly and his body straining, as Az slowly walked around him.

“There’s still time,” Az murmured, brows pulling together. “Ask forgiveness, brother. Change your ways and you can⁠—”

Watch for an eternity. Hear the screams and do nothing. See the blood and only know the smell of death.

Sammael kept the smile on his face. “I ask for nothing. From now on, I take.” Lives. Souls. Everything.

Az’s eyes narrowed. “Then you die.”

With those words, Sammael fell. The elaborate room vanished as Sammael plummeted from the sky. Wind whipped around him, biting into his flesh as he fell, faster, faster, and⁠—

Agony ripped through his body. A white-hot fire consumed him. Burning all that he was. “Az!”

But his brother wasn’t helping him. No one helped him. He fell, and he burned. His wings—always the most sensitive part of his body—burned the longest. The hottest.

He screamed and screamed and seemed to fall forever.

When he hit, he expected death. Az had promised death.

But Sammael wasn’t dead. Broken, bloody, and burned, but not dead.

Not yet.

And that was just the start of the hell to come.

The devil owed her a favor, and it was time that Seline O’Shaw called in that debt.

“Well, well…” Sammael—Sam because he’d long ago dropped the more formal version of his name—raked her with his bright blue stare as she made her way across the crowded New Orleans club and to his side. “Come back for another dance, have you?” His deep voice cut easily through the laughter and whispers that floated in the air.

Dance. Seline’s eyes narrowed. “Not tonight.” No, tonight she was waiting tables at Sunrise and wearing one of those skimpy black dresses that all the waitresses were forced to squeeze into before each shift. Thankfully, she wasn’t scheduled to go onstage again. Too dangerous. She’d only danced twice, and she didn’t plan to hop up there again. Seline risked a quick glance over her shoulder. “I need to talk with you,” she said as her voice dropped.

Sam wasn’t alone. But then, he was the big, bad-ass Other in the city so he usually had company. Not guards exactly. Why would he need guards? If the stories were true, Sam could kill with a touch. The man wasn’t human, not even close.

So, no, the demons weren’t around to guard him, but she knew they were there to pretty much jump when he so much as whispered an order. Demon attack dogs.

“Go ahead,” he invited softly, his voice low and rumbling, “talk.”

Right. Like she was going to bare her soul with his two demon goons right next to him. And Seline knew the guys on either side of Sam were demons. Most folks probably would have thought they were humans—very dangerous looking humans—but not demons.

Seline wasn’t most folks, and she damn well knew a demon when she saw one. After all, she’d been born with the special curse of being able to see right past a demon’s glamour. She didn’t have the luxury of pretending that monsters weren’t real. She saw monsters every day.

And every time I look into the mirror.

“Alone.” She cleared her throat because the word came out way too husky. She really had to watch that. She wasn’t trying to seduce Sam, not yet anyway. “I need to talk to you…” She let her gaze dart to the goons. “Alone.”

Sam waved his right hand, and the demons rose. They disappeared into the crowd like good little flunkies even as Sam edged away from the table and closed in on her.

She didn’t back down. Seline tilted her head so she could meet his blue stare. Sam was big—had to be at least six feet three, maybe six feet four—muscled, and too sexy by far.

He was also the deadliest man she’d ever met. Don’t forget that. Remember who he is. What he is.

Death.

Strange. She’d never thought Death would be particularly sexy. He was.

His eyes were the brightest blue she’d ever seen. His cheeks were high, his jaw hard and strong, and his lips—sensual, but with an edge of cruelty she couldn’t miss.

Sam took her hand. “Come with me.”

A shiver slipped over her at his touch. She hadn’t expected her reaction to Sam. The first time she’d seen him, she’d…wanted him and that wasn’t the way things were supposed to work in her world. She was the one desired. The one wanted. That was the way she’d been made. She might not like the life she’d been given, but screw the bitching and moaning routine. Seline couldn’t control what she was, but she could use her power.

Sam led her through the crowd and to a small door on the side of the club. The private room. Yeah, she knew the place. She’d been working at Sunrise for a while now, and she’d learned the rules. This room was for the VIPs. A place for them to have quick sex, to run a business deal, or to party the night away. All without having to worry about any prying eyes watching.

Unless you wanted to be watched, because she knew some folks in Sunrise liked that, too.

The bouncer at the door immediately let Sam inside. Figured he’d get instant access.

The door closed behind her with a soft click. No watching. Seline’s heart did a too-fast kick when Sam turned around and locked his stare on her. “Better now?” he asked with a twist of his lips. Sexy lips. “I’m all yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her with a gaze that always saw too much.

Oh, damn. She swallowed. Play the game. “I-I…you owe me, Sam.”

His dark brows—black to match his midnight mane of hair—rose. “Do I?” His voice was careless, but she saw the intensity in his eyes.

Seline nodded quickly. “I helped you before. I told you—told you when the shifter wanted you dead.” Who didn’t want him dead? But a few weeks ago, she’d tipped Sam off about the very dangerous coyote shifter who’d been hunting him. That tip-off should give her the bargaining power she needed right now.

His head inclined. “So you did.” His gaze raked her body and that hot blue stare lingered a bit too long on her breasts and her thighs.

The top of her “uniform” plunged right between her breasts, and the skirt barely skimmed the tops of her legs. She shifted slightly beneath his stare but quickly caught herself. “You owe me now, Sam,” she reminded him.

That brought his eyes back to hers. His face—that perfect face that didn’t belong on someone so dangerous—tilted to study her. Sam might have the reputation of the devil, but the man’s face and body were pure perfection. All the better to tempt.

Sometimes she felt like everything about him was a lie. But, fair enough, she was pretty good at deceiving, too.

She pressed, “You pay your debts, right?” He’d better.

“Depends on the debt.”

That wasn’t the answer she wanted.

Sam lowered his arms and stalked closer until only a foot of space separated their bodies. The door was closed behind her, and when he leaned in, Sam slapped both of his palms against the wooden frame and caged her with his arms. “What do you need, Seline?”

She wasn’t surprised that he knew her name. He’d watched her often enough in the last two months. First, he’d watched her at Temptation. Going in as a dancer had been the only way she knew to get close to Sam—and she had to get close.

But when some assholes had torched the joint, she’d had to come up with a real fast plan B. Since she knew Sam spent a lot of time here, she’d taken a waitressing job at Sunrise. All to stay close to him.

It had only been later that she’d learned Sam actually owned Sunrise, too.

“Seline?” His breath feathered lightly over her cheek. “What do you want from me?”

Her chin lifted but she kept her hands at her sides. Don’t touch him. “Protection.”

His brows rose.

“I won’t lie to you, Sam.” Yes, actually, she would. A lot. “I haven’t exactly been living the pure and innocent life.” Okay, that line was one hundred percent true. “I made a mistake a while back, and now there are some people out there who want me dead.”

“Why?”

The door was shut. They were totally alone. She could confess to him. “Because I killed a man.” The words seemed to fall into the thick silence of the room. “I didn’t plan to do it. It-it was an accident⁠—”

“Was it?”

Her hands clenched into fists. Ah, caught me. “No, it wasn’t.” Again, this part was true. The lies would only come later. “He was an asshole who got off on hurting women. He used his fists any chance he had, and I wasn’t gonna be the next body he put in a box.” She wouldn’t be any man’s punching bag.

His eyes studied her. “You’re afraid.”

Only of a few things in this world.

“Is that why,” he continued quietly as his right hand dropped, “you’re always armed?”

He knew?

“With a gun close by, tucked in your purse or...” His fingers curled over her thigh then slid up—up, stroking over her sensitive skin until he found the sheath of her knife, tucked right on the interior of her thigh. “Or why you keep a knife strapped to your thigh?”

“You can’t be too careful,” she whispered, her body tense because he was still touching her—and she liked it. Can’t. Too dangerous. Wanting Sam could make her weak, and lust was a weakness she couldn’t afford.

Unfortunately for her kind, lust was like kryptonite. The closer the temptation, the stronger the weakness.

“So you need protection.” His stare narrowed on her. “What, exactly, does that mean?” He paused. “Do you need a guard? Someone to watch over you? Or...” Now his left hand left the wall. His fingers curved under her cheek and his thumb brushed over her lips. Her breath caught, and her heart raced in her chest. “Do you want me to kill someone for you, Seline?”

Killing would be easy for him. Sometimes, she worried it might become too easy for her. “I-I don’t know what to do. I’ve been hiding, and I thought I was safe, but they found me.”

“They?” His right hand still cradled her thigh and seemed to scorch her.

“His friends. They know what I did, and they aren’t the kind of men you can just walk away from.” She let fear seep into her voice. The better to sound weak. Men liked it when women were needy, right? Help me. “They’re dangerous, Sam, and they’ve got a lot of power.”

His gaze searched hers. Then his mouth dipped close to hers. Seline stopped breathing. He was going to kiss her, and her hormones would go wild. Control. She had to stay in total control.

He didn’t kiss her. He smiled. And dammit, she’d actually been pressing up on her toes to get closer to him.

Heat stained her cheeks. I don’t blush. But she was—or rather, she’d started blushing since she met Sam. He made her too uncomfortable.

“What makes you think I’m the kind of man who offers protection?”

She didn’t think he’d give her protection. She wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t the protecting kind.

He was the killing kind.

She wet her lips and felt the tension mount in his body. “I know what you are.” Half-truth. She knew what he wasn’t. She was still working on the rest. Out of a thousand possibilities, she’d narrowed down the choices to a top five list, and nothing on that list was good.

“And what’s that?”

Now this was the dangerous part. If she’d calculated wrong, he could attack her. Good thing she wasn’t very easy to kill. “You’re not human.” This she knew with absolute certainty. Demons didn’t play guard bitch to humans. The food chain didn’t work that way.

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.” Yes, 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…goodbye, 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. 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 let her go and stepped back. Seline didn’t like the 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 would 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 badass. If only. Her strengths lurked 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.

“I’m not here to save the world,” he told her, and then he reached for her again. Wait—the jerk was moving her out of his way, not trying to embrace her. Then he yanked open the door and told her, “Sweetheart, I’m just here to watch it burn.”

And Sam left her there, with her mouth hanging open. The jerk actually left her.

Shit. Time for plan B—and plan B was gonna hurt.

She watched Sam disappear into the crowd. His goons closed around him, and he whispered to them. Her eyes turned to slits. Oh, she’d make him pay. Was he really so heartless that he wouldn’t help a freaking damsel in distress? Hadn’t she looked distressed enough to him? Her eyes were actually watering now—she was sure he’d seen that bit. And what about that breathy moan she’d given when he kissed her? That moan had only been half-faked!

Fine. Seline took a deep breath. One, then another, and she let the tears build up. She might have been a low-level demon, but she was also a semi-talented actress. In order to fit in with the humans, she’d had to be.

Her shoulders shook as she pushed her way through the crowd. Seline made sure to rush past Sam and his demons as she sobbed, the better to lay the groundwork for her next plan.

Her hand slammed against the club’s back door, and she burst outside. The hot air hit her like a fist as she hurried forward. She lifted her hand and signaled for the man she knew would be waiting.

She’d tried to do this the easy way, but Sam hadn’t cooperated. Pity. A real crying shame.

“You’re gonna have to use the knife,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder. Sam might not even come out after her. He sure didn’t seem to be racing to her rescue. But maybe when she started screaming, he’d come play white knight.

The man in the black ski mask nodded once.

Seline exhaled. So be it.

She wasn’t just going to walk away from Sam. She had a job to do, and she always got the job done. Even if she had to bleed to earn her pay.

And she would be bleeding because that knife was about to slice her.

The first cut of the blade was always the worst.

Sam stared at the closed exit door. “Seline has a problem,” he said to the demons—Marcus and Cole—beside him. Why do I care? I shouldn’t give a damn. “Check it out. If it’s legit, then make sure her problem is eliminated.”

Cole nodded. “Someone’s bothering her?” Cole’s voice held a tight edge. The demon never liked it when someone bothered the women at Sunrise. Definitely a guy with a soft spot for the ladies, even the dangerous ones.

“Seems she’s got a past that won’t stay dead.” Perhaps he would have talked more with Seline. Maybe offered her protection in exchange for a few moments in the dark, but he had another agenda at the moment.

His own past wasn’t staying dead. His brother was back, and if Sam had his way, he’d be putting the bastard into the ground very, very soon.

A war is coming. Sam could feel the storm clouds gathering.

As delectable as Seline was, he didn’t have time for distractions. Azrael had finally gotten his lily-white ass kicked out of heaven, and it was time for a showdown.

Or Armageddon. Whatever came first. Sam didn’t have a preference.

Too many angels are falling. The demons are getting restless. A power play is coming.

And, of course, he was getting caught right in the middle of hell.

“Find out who’s bothering her,” he ordered because he hadn’t asked specifics from her. If he’d found out anymore—hell, he would have killed the bastards himself and that just couldn’t happen. He had an angel’s ass to kick first. Pleasure kills would have to wait for later. “Make sure she doesn’t have to worry again.”

Then his debt would be paid because he did owe Seline. No one had ever tried to save him before. Mostly because he didn’t need saving. But she’d tried, in her way.

So despite his words, he’d help her and maybe one day when the blood washed away, he’d look her up and let the sexy Seline thank him properly.

Cole nodded and eased back into the crowd. The demon was probably off to talk to some of the other waitresses so he could get a fix on Seline and her trouble.

Sam waved off Marcus and headed for the exit. He’d already given Marcus orders earlier. If the demon caught so much as a whisper about Azrael, Sam would know.

He shoved open the club’s back door and inhaled the lingering scent of jasmine in the air. Seline’s scent. His cock tightened as he remembered the soft silk of her lips beneath his. She hadn’t tasted like innocence. No, Seline—the woman who’d stripped and danced on his stage at Temptation, revealing and then instantly concealing her body—was no innocent.

She’d tasted like sin, and sin sure was an aphrodisiac to him.

“Help me!”

The cry had his head whipping to the left, and Sam saw the flash of Seline’s long legs as she ran down the alley. Seline wasn’t alone. A man in a black ski mask hauled ass after her, and the bastard had a knife.

The knife lifted and the glinting blade plunged toward Seline’s back.

No.

Sam moved in an instant, using the preternatural speed of his kind. He rushed across the pavement, and his body slammed into Seline’s. The knife drove into his shoulder even as he and Seline tumbled onto the ground.

Kill. Destroy.

Sam shoved up and barely felt the pain from his wound. He turned for the attacker, ready to rip the man’s soul right out of his body.

“Sam!” Seline grabbed him and held tight. Footsteps thudded as the attacker raced away, but Sam’s eyes were on Seline. She stared up at him. Her brown eyes swam with tears. “How did you…you’re bleeding!”

Blood ran down his arm in deep rivulets. The jackass had left the knife in Sam’s shoulder.

The guy was also gone. The squeal of tires grated in Sam’s ears. Fuck. Clenching his teeth, Sam reached up and yanked the knife out of his body. The blade had sunk straight into the bone.

You’ll pay for that.

Blood spattered around him as he yanked at the knife, and Seline yelled, “No, don’t, you’ll make it worse!”

Doubtful. She didn’t understand who she was dealing with. “The wound will heal.” In a few moments, the blood flow would stop, and the skin would mend on its own.

He tossed the knife to the ground and glanced down at her. Seline’s thick blond hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her face was far too pale, and fear filled her dark eyes.

Definitely pay.

Being careful not to get any blood on her, Sam brushed her hair back.

“I thought...” She wet her lips with a quick swipe of her pink tongue and whispered, “I thought you didn’t care.”

You don’t want to make me care.

Seline wasn’t a classically beautiful woman. Not porcelain perfect.

But she was sexy. Damn sexy. She had full, pouting lips and her deep, dark bedroom eyes were surrounded by thick lashes. A sweet little mole rested near the corner of her mouth—he wanted to lick that spot. Her cheeks were high and her chin a little sharp, giving her a slightly witchy look.

And the woman’s body…when he’d seen her on the stage at Temptation, he hadn’t been able to look away. Her legs stretched for miles and her breasts were high, round, and perfect. Her body was built for sin, and she could probably make a man beg.

If he were the begging type.

Sam never had been.

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and hoisted Seline to her feet.

“No, your arm⁠—”

He closed his fingers around her shoulders. “I want a name, Seline.”

She blinked those sexy eyes at him.

“Tell me who that bastard was, and he’s dead.” Simple fact. The jerkoff had attacked her and left a knife in Sam. The prick wouldn’t be among the breathing for long. Sam would make sure of that fact. He’d also make sure the man’s final moments hurt. The days of Death being kind were long gone. Only cruelty remained.

“I don’t know! I didn’t see his face.”

Right. He’d noticed the mask. Sam sucked in a deep breath. “You didn’t have to see his face. You knew someone was coming for you. And you know who sent the guy.”

She shivered and hunched her shoulders. She stood tall, probably an inch or two under six feet, but despite her curves, her bones had a delicate feel. “I just want it to end.”

“It will,” he promised. Death was his business, and his business was booming.

She looked at him from beneath the thick veil of her lashes. “You said you wouldn’t help me.” Her breath hitched, and his hands tightened on her.

“I lied.” Like it had been the first time.

She swallowed, and her lips began to curl.

“The name. ”

Seline threw her arms around him and held on tight. Her body shook against his, and her breasts crushed into his chest.

The scent of jasmine rose over the stench in the alley and filled his nose.

“Thank you,” Seline whispered the words against his neck. Her lips brushed over his skin, and Sam was pretty sure he felt the quick lick of her tongue against him. His body stiffened with sensual tension. When she’d moved, his hands had shifted automatically. His palms rested on the curve of her ass. What a sweet ass it was.

But now wasn’t the time for sex. It was killing time, and he could kill a man as easily as he could caress a lover.

After all, Death only needed one touch.

“Please, Sam, get me out of here.” Fear had her voice shaking. “I’ll tell you everything.” She eased back and tilted her head up as she gazed at him. “Just take me to your place. Get me out of here.”

Not what he wanted. The thirst for blood and vengeance was too strong, but he didn’t know what kind of attack to expect. The sooner he got her secured, the sooner he’d have his fun. Sam nodded and felt the tightening in his shoulder. The wound was already closing. The attacker would have to do much better next time. He wasn’t easy prey. It takes a very special weapon to take me out. Nothing made of man can do the job.

“Come on.” Sam kept her hand in his as he pulled her to the edge of the alley. He was careful to keep his body positioned in front of hers. If another attack came, he’d be ready.

“How did you move so fast?” Her quiet question whispered out after a pause. “You were so far away.”

Speed was only one of his many gifts. “I’m not your average demon.” He opened the door of his black Jag and waited for her to crawl inside.

“No,” her soft voice answered him, “you’re not.”

Sam slammed the door as his gaze swept the street. Down the road and to the left, a black van waited in the shadows.

He stared at that van, then he grinned.

Come and get me, bastards. He almost crooked his finger in invitation.

Because he wasn’t a dumbass demon, and he could smell a fucking setup a mile away. Even when the setup was wrapped in the scent of jasmine and wore a pretty smile.

Not that easy to get to me.

He climbed in the car and gunned the engine.

Time for the real games to begin.

With a flick of his fingers, he locked the door and sealed Seline inside with him.

“He took the bait,” Alex Graham said as he yanked the ski mask off his face. “The blind fool fell for her just like all the others have done.”

So it would seem.

Rogziel eased back in the seat and watched the Jag’s red taillights disappear around the corner. The growl of the engine echoed down the street. He had waited so long for this moment, and now, finally, Sammael’s punishment was at hand.

It only seemed fitting that a demon would be the one to send the Fallen to hell.

Sammael had always had a weakness for women and for sin. By the time Seline was done with him, there’d be nothing left of his old friend.

Good.

Ready to burn again, Sam?

Because the fire was sure ready for him. Those flames had been waiting, and it was time for Sammael to face his punishment.

Hell.