CHAPTER EIGHT

The motorcycle roared down the highway, zipping in and out of the line of cars. Seline’s arms curled around Sam, and, with every mile that the bike ate, he cursed beneath his breath.

Anthea hadn’t answered her phone. Not her cell. Not her home line.

She was the only other Fallen in the city right then. Keenan, a Fallen that Az had mistakenly tangled with before, had headed to Mexico with his little vamp. To be safe, Sam had put in a fast call to Keenan and warned the guy to watch his ass.

But Keenan always did.

Anthea . . . sweet, gentle . . . she never saw the threats in the world. Not until it was too late.

He spun the bike into the quiet neighborhood that Anthea had used as a refuge. Small flowers waited near the entrance, swaying lightly in the breeze, welcoming the home owners and their guests. He’d been to Anthea’s home only once. He’d come to make certain she was safe, but she hadn’t wanted his protection.

She’d just wanted the human who was at her side. A man she called husband, and a man that Sam strongly suspected had no real clue about his wife’s past.

Fell for love.

Anthea hadn’t been the first to lose her heart to a human. She wouldn’t be the last.

Her tidy brick home waited at the end of the street. More flowers surrounded the sides of her house.

And her car waited in the driveway. Her car—and a black Jeep.

The husband’s vehicle.

Sam had done his research before he’d slid out of Anthea’s life. Ron, her husband, had checked out. A doting human who was crazy for his beautiful wife.

Sam killed the engine and leapt off the motorcycle. Seline hurried behind him, or tried to. He threw out an arm to block her. “Let me check first.” Because he knew what he could find, and he didn’t want her to walk inside another blood-soaked room.

“No.” Her chin came up. “I can handle this.”

She wasn’t as heartless as she wanted to pretend. Blood affected her too much. Strange for a demon.

“Besides, the last time you left me . . .” Seline threw a quick glance over her shoulder toward the line of perfect houses on the opposite side of the street. Perfect houses, perfect human world. “Your brother jumped me. From now on, where you go, I go.”

His jaw clenched, but she had a point. Az could be close by, and Sam wouldn’t risk Seline again. He caught her hand and hurried forward.

The door was locked. He lifted his left fist, ready to blast it right open.

“No!” Seline frowned at him. “What if they’re just inside, having coffee or something? We can’t burst in there!”

But then he heard a faint sound. Not a moan, more of a gasp. One filled with pain.

Seline’s eyes widened. She’d heard it, too. “Bust that door down!”

The door shattered, and he ran inside. The stench hit him like a punch. Fresh blood and death.

The gasp came again, even weaker now, and he leapt across the room. Blood pooled on the floor, deep and dark, and it spread beneath Anthea’s body.

Her chest was open, the blood gushing out. Her dark eyes were wide and filled with pain. Tears leaked down her cheeks even as blood dripped from her mouth.

And her heart was gone.

She should have been dead—she would be dead, soon. There was no way she could survive. She was in agony, fighting to keep going, able to manage these last moments only because of her angel blood.

“Anthea.” He said her name with fury. Pay. Bastard would pay.

She didn’t look at him. Those wide-open eyes were to the left. Sam followed her stare and saw Ron’s body.

“Oh, God,” Seline whispered.

God hadn’t done this.

He positioned his body between Anthea and Ron, forcing her to see him. He didn’t touch her, not yet. “Who did this?”

More tears. More blood.

“Sam, she’s suffering!” Seline grabbed him. “Help her.”

They both knew there was only one way to help her.

“Why is she still alive?” Seline whispered. “Why won’t she let go?”

Anthea’s wet lashes dipped a bit. Her gaze seemed to focus on Sam. Seemed to. “Hell . . .”

Her body began to shake. Great, hard shudders that made the blood pump faster. There were gashes on her arms. Her legs. Her neck.

And that hole in her chest . . .

“Was it Az?” he demanded, his hand so close to her cheek.

More shudders. More blood.

“Help her!” Seline screamed.

But there was nothing to do.

Anthea’s body stilled. A slow whisper of breath slipped past her lips as she surrendered to death.