The words hurt. She’d expected them to come eventually, once he realized exactly what she was, but she’d started to hope that—

He’d still see me as a woman.

Guess not. Her spine stiffened. “I’m not leaving you here alone.” The coyotes could come back. Probably would. Or what about the members of that vamp-hunter group that had been after her? Some of those bikers had gotten away. They could try to make a run at her again. Or at him.

“I want you to go.”

Now that was like a slap. She even stumbled back.

“I saved you, Nicole. We’re even now. I stood back before, but this time …” He still wasn’t looking at her. “I saved you.”

Her hands were clenched into fists behind her back, and the healing injuries burned. “I saved myself,” she whispered. And you.

But he didn’t want to hear that. He was telling her to go, to get the hell out of his life, and fine, she wouldn’t beg.

He wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t touch her.

Guess he finally saw the monster.

She turned around and nearly ran into Sam. Her breath heaved out. The guy moved too fast. “I can find my way out on my own.”

“No.” His gaze drifted along the stone wall. “They know what you are.”

A vamp. Right. Seemed like everyone knew.

“They’ll use you against him. You can’t be separated. Not now.”

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes drawn right back to Keenan, and she saw him turn at Sam’s words.

Keenan clenched his jaw and gritted, “You know she can’t stay with me.”

“Control, Fallen. I keep tellin’ you … you’ve got to have control.”

A burst of wind shoved against Nicole and Sam. “Around her, I have no control.”

Was that good or bad? Around him, she had no control, either.

Except she wasn’t telling him to hit the road.

Carlos almost killed me. I hurt. Every part of her hurt. And she just wanted Keenan’s arms around her. She wanted to feel him, strong, safe and alive against her.

He wanted her ass to walk away.

“Get the control,” Sam warned him, voice snapping. “Get it or—”

“Or what?” Keenan fired back. “She dies?”

Whoa. Wait. This she—

“Yes.” Soft but certain from Sam. “If you lose control, then Nicole dies.”

Well, damn.

Carlos watched the bastards leave. The ass**le who’d killed his cousin bent down, brushed back her hair, then yanked off his shirt and covered her body.

Carlos’s muscles locked. He wanted that bastard’s throat between his teeth, but he knew if he got too close to the Fallen, he’d wind up like Julia.

One touch, then death.

Killing the Fallen would be harder than he’d thought. He’d have to take the guy out without ever giving him a chance to strike back.

They were outside of the cemetery now. As he watched, the three loaded into a black pickup truck. He inhaled, drawing their scents in with the blood and the death. Finding them again wouldn’t be a problem.

Killing them would.

I underestimated my prey. It wasn’t a mistake he made often, and one he wouldn’t repeat.

When the truck’s taillights disappeared down the road, he tossed back his head and howled. Another loss for his meager pack. Another body to bury.

His bones snapped, reshaped. The fur melted from his flesh, and he went to collect his dead in the form of a man. In death, Julia’s pretty features were twisted. So misshapen.

She’d been terrified of what she saw in her last moment.

He bent and picked her up and held her gently. “It’s okay now.” Julia had never feared anything. Until she died.

“They’ll pay.” The other coyotes slunk out of the darkness. “They’ll pay!” Carlos vowed. It wasn’t just about getting an angel’s blood anymore.

Vengeance. When the angel died, he’d fear, too. Fear, beg, and suffer.

Just like his precious vampire bitch would.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Nicole’s soft voice had Keenan’s head turning toward her. She stood, her body pressed against the stark white wall in Sam’s “safe” house.

No place was safe enough. Keenan knew the coyotes would come after them. Once a shifter got your scent, it was pretty impossible to shake him. Going back to the antebellum house he’d bought—for her, everything had been for her—wasn’t an option. He might as well just paint a bull’s eye on his back if he did that. There would be folks who’d come looking for vengeance on Big Mike’s killer.