He slumped against her.

And that was when she heard the soft laughter coming from behind her.

Sam had found her clothes to wear. Or rather, Sam had sent Cole to find them. The jeans and T-shirt fit perfectly, and even the boots were the right size.

Never underestimate a demon.

Or an angel.

Dressed and semi-ready to face the world, Seline took a deep breath and said, “Your brother wants me dead.” The lust had cooled, and her energy was back, finally. A girl could only bluff so long, and now was the time to lay all her cards on the table.

“He wants me dead, too.”

Yes. He did. “Az told me that all the Fallen would die.” She was pretty sure that the guy had meant by his hand.

“It’s not easy to kill Fallen,” Sam murmured. “The Death Touch doesn’t work on our own kind.”

Well, that was interesting. She filed that little tidbit away in her mind.

Sam had pulled on a pair of jeans, nothing else, and her eyes wanted to stray down the muscled expanse of his chest as she looked at him.

Seline cleared her throat. “But the Fallen can die.” Just not by any weapon of man, so the legend and rumors claimed. No mortal weapon. No Death Touch. Now that sure raised the question . . . how had Az killed Omayo? The guy’s throat had looked like an animal ripped it open.

“This isn’t the first time Az has gone after a Fallen.” Sam’s rumbling words had her gaze flying to his face.

“He’s attacked someone else?”

Sam’s lips curved in a smile that caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. “Before his lily-white ass got kicked out, Az took it upon himself to deliver out justice to the Fallen.”

Justice. She did not like where this was going. “He left me alive deliberately,” Seline said. Not just a great stroke of luck on her part. Az had wanted her to live so that she could deliver his message. “He’s going after the Fallen.” No wonder he’d written Fallen on the wall—the guy had been marking, claiming his kill. “I don’t think he’s going to stop until they’re all dead.”

His stare measured her.

“Are there more Fallen in the city?” Seline didn’t know of any, but maybe Sam did. The guy knew everything about the Other in New Orleans. “If there are, I think—I think Az will go after them.”

Sam’s stare still locked on her, and she realized that, yes, he knew about more Fallen. He just didn’t know if he could tell her about them. Anger whipped through her blood. “Dammit, Sam, trust, remember? I’m not asking because I want to hurt them! I want to help them. If we can get to the Fallen before Az does, we can stop him.” Didn’t he see that this was their chance?

“We can kill him.”

Seline nodded.

His head tilted to the right as he studied her. “There is one more Fallen in New Orleans.”

Her heart started a double-time beat. “Where is he?” But she was already heading for the door as she tossed out the question. “Let’s get to him, now.”

“Not him,” Sam muttered. “Her.”

Anthea’s head lifted slowly, and she stared at the man who walked before her. Her husband was dead. His eyes—green and empty—would haunt her forever.

“Why?” The one question was torn from her. “Ron never hurt anyone. He wasn’t meant to die yet, he wasn’t—”

“You weren’t meant to be with him.” Cold, callous, and the words fanned the rage that was slowly splintering her apart.

“He was the only one I was meant to have!” The pain, the burn, the fall . . . everything had been for him.

“You had a duty. Angels serve.” His eyes were arctic. “They don’t fall.”

She had to force her hands away from Ron. Not there anymore. His body remained, but his soul was gone. Ron had been a good man. Loyal. True. He would have paradise waiting for him.

“If angels fall,” the bastard continued, “hell waits.”

She rose to her feet.

“Was he worth it?” He cast a dismissive glance at Ron. “Everything you could’ve had—was he truly worth the sacrifice ?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “He was worth everything.” And she attacked.

The low growl reached her ears too late, and Anthea realized that he’d just been baiting her. Setting the trap, distracting her . . .

This time, her scream held as much fear as rage.

The beast leapt for her, and his razor-sharp claws went straight for her heart.