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 then, 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.

“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 f**king 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.

CHAPTER TWO

Seline knew where Sam lived. She’d staked out his place shortly after arriving in New Orleans. So when he drove right past the exit leading to the Quarter, her palms began to sweat.

“You never told me the guy’s name.” Sam’s voice was quiet, but held an edge that had her tensing in the leather seat.

“J-John Moorecroft.” She thought the stutter in her voice was a good addition. Because a woman who’d nearly been stabbed would be stuttering and trembling, right?

He glanced her way. “John Moorecroft is in prison. His drug ring was busted up six months ago, and the guy is rotting in a cell because he took out a cop during the bust.”

All true, and all facts that had made the New Orleans news. Yet there were details that hadn’t made the papers . . . “He might be in jail, but he’s still got plenty of power.” She licked her lips. “He took out a hit on me from his jail cell. Even inside, he still has men ready to jump for him.” For the right price. “You don’t cross him and get away clean.”

They were on the interstate now, and he was driving too fast. Everything passed her in a blur.

“I don’t know any other names,” she admitted, keeping her voice low. “I don’t know who came after me tonight. Probably just some guy looking to cash in on the bounty that’s on my head. I-I just want it all to end.” Her breath expelled in a rush. “How do you think the cops knew to make that bust? I was the one who tipped them off.”

“So you killed John’s friend, and turned him in?” He gave a low whistle. “Now he’s jonesing for your death.”

Not like it was the first time. “I was . . . working at a bar.” The cover always worked. It was easy enough for her to get hired at places like that and to work the owners and staff. “I met a guy, his name was Philip Drew. Philip was—”