She just didn’t drop fast enough. A hard, strong hand caught her right wrist, and her shoulder wrenched as she was gripped tight.

“Going somewhere?” Sam asked, his voice a mocking drawl in the dark.

It was so not her night. Seline tried to send a burst of fire up at him. Controlling fire had never been her strong suit, but she could usually make it burn to life easily enough.

As the fire neared him, it just sputtered away in light plumes of smoke. The bastard laughed as the smoke drifted by him. Laughed.

Then he started lifting her back up. The broken windowpane bit into his arm, and blood streaked down his flesh.

She tried to yank away from him—she would have preferred a few shattered bones to what was coming—but Sam’s grip was unbreakable. Her heart thudded into her chest. “Does it matter . . .” she asked as he raised her higher and her legs kicked uselessly . . . “that I didn’t have a choice in taking this job?” Another truth for him. Not that he’d believe her.

“Doesn’t matter at all.” Sam hauled her through the window. Oddly enough, the guy made sure she didn’t get another cut on her flesh. Probably saving all the blood and gore for his own personal delivery.

Oh, damn.

Then he dropped her onto the floor. When she shoved the hair back from her eyes, Seline glared up at him. His eyes weren’t blue any longer. They were demon black. Behind him, she saw the shadowy image of wide wings that shouldn’t be there.

I felt his scars.

Demons didn’t have wings, yet he had a demon’s eyes.

“What are you?” she whispered. Down to five choices . . . and right then her top choice was not good at all.

He smiled.

“Fuck.” Alex lowered his binoculars and turned to the man beside him. “Did you just see that shit?”

The other hunter, face pale and eyes wide, nodded.

Sammael had caught Seline mid-drop and dragged her back inside the second-story window.

“He’s going to kill her,” Alex said, huffing out a breath. They’d parked far enough away that Sammael wouldn’t see them, but close enough so that they could keep tabs on Seline.

“Probably,” the guy next to him grunted.

Seline had been their best hope of eliminating Sammael. When bullets and knives didn’t work, you had to be real freaking creative about taking out the trash.

Rogziel wasn’t gonna like this. The boss had been so sure that Seline could handle this job.

“Do we go in after her?” the other hunter asked.

Alex lifted his binoculars one more time. All he could see was broken glass and the dark interior of the house. He didn’t hear any screams, not yet anyway. He’d figured Seline for the screaming type.

Maybe Seline would be able to work some of her magic.

Maybe not.

He couldn’t say that he particularly cared either way. One less demon in the world. “No, she’s on her own.” He nodded toward the driver. “Now get us the hell out of here before Sammael comes looking for us.” Because Seline would talk. She’d beg for her life. For mercy. Everyone always did.

Even the strong broke under the right pressure, and Alex knew that in spite of Seline’s demon powers, she wasn’t particularly strong. Using sex . . . how much weaker could you get?

Besides, he’d bet that Sammael knew all about applying the right pressure and pain.

I hope it’s quick, Seline. Because while Alex hadn’t liked what Seline was, he hadn’t hated her, either. She’d tried to fight her instincts, and she’d done her duty on the jobs they’d worked together.

The van pulled away and left the faded antebellum house behind in the thick swamp.

Alex knew he’d never see Seline O’Shaw again. Another assassin would be sent after Sammael. Maybe this one would have better luck than the last three. Sammael was just a tough bastard to kill.

But everyone dies sometime.

Sooner or later, Sam would see hell again.

Then he’d be the one screaming.

Sam was naked. And aroused. Seline tried to yank her eyes away from the swollen length of his cock, but when she stared up at his furious features, um—that view wasn’t exactly good.

“Who sent you.” Not a question, a furious demand.

She blinked and tried to look innocent. Right, like she’d ever been able to manage that feat. Thanks to her incubus father, playing innocent had always been a stretch of her acting abilities. “Look, Sam, I don’t know what you—”

“I know what you are.” He stalked closer. She scrambled to her feet because she wasn’t just going to kneel on the floor and wait for him to kill her. She wasn’t easy pickings. “Your skin is still glowing, your cheeks are flushed, and the room is nearly crackling with your power.” His eyes narrowed to chips of black fire. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know when a succubus was dream-walking with me?”