Read Online Angel of Darkness by Cynthia Eden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cynthia Eden
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“Blond, black eyes, with black wings that hung over his shoulders ...”
Black wings. An angel of death.
“I didn’t even see the wings at first. They moved behind him, like weird-ass shadows.” A pause. “Just like yours.”
Sam rolled his shoulders and slowly stretched his back as he felt the ghostly flutter of wings that weren’t there anymore, not really.
Elijah hissed out a breath. “Weird-ass ... ”
The shadow wings were just an illusion. A magic memory. Only seen by demons or angels ... any who had the blood of the celestial beings in them.
Lucifer hadn’t been the only angel to fall. So many others had lost their grace. Or traded it for the chance to be like the humans.
No, the demons who walked the earth now weren’t puppets of the devil. They were descendants of the Fallen. Not as favored as humans, but not as cursed as most of the monsters, no matter what some of the zealots liked to think.
“Did he have any unusual marks?” Sam pressed. Who was he up against? You couldn’t fight a battle without knowing your enemy.
He’d been right. The vamp had been the link. The key. The Fallen had gone after her, just as Sam had suspected he would.
“No,” Elijah said with a shake of his shaggy head. “He was blond, and he had black eyes. He was one of them damn pretty-boy angels but ...” The demon’s eyes narrowed. “When I first saw him, I swear I felt a cold wind blow right over me.”
Sam’s breath expelled. Perfect. There were so many angels out there, so many different kinds—some harmless and some very, very dangerous. He didn’t want to waste his time with the harmless variety.
“How did he act with the woman?” A freshly-fallen angel would be confused. Unprepared for the onslaught of emotion—and need. Lust.
Easy pickings.
Elijah glanced over his shoulder. But, the demon didn’t need to check for a threat behind him. The real menace was right in front of him. Was the guy truly becoming a trusting sort now? Fatal mistake.
“His eyes kept going to her ...”
Interesting.
“And he said he was her guardian. ”
Sam’s lips quirked at that. He suspected the guy was far from a benevolent guardian angel. But if that was the spin the Fallen wanted to play, then who was he to bust the vamp’s bubble? At least, not yet.
“I’m all about killing a vamp.” Elijah crossed his arms over his bulky chest. “But I ain’t taking on that bastard.”
“You’re that sure he’ll take you out?” The demon’s fear was new. Elijah had never been afraid of a hunt before.
But Elijah was backing down. “I know Death when I see him.”
Yes, Sam was rather betting that he did.
“We’re done,” Elijah said, turning away and giving Sam his back. Oh, bad move. “I’m sick of dancing on your damn string ...”
Right. Same song, different fucking dance. “And where will you get your special brew, Elijah? When you walk away from me, who will help you?”
Now that stopped him.
Elijah looked back, and the struggle was clearly etched on his face. Like so many of his kind, Elijah had a bit of an addiction. Demons and addictions. When Elijah used his drugs, he could focus his thirst for blood and violence. With the drugs, he didn’t kill just anyone—he killed specific targets.
Without the drugs ... women, children— everyone became his prey.
Sam liked to think he’d been doing his part to keep the dog on the leash these last few months. But if Elijah was ready to bite the hand that had been feeding him ...
“You’re not the only game in town,” Elijah muttered and kept walking.
Oh, but I am.
“When you change your mind,” Sam called after him. “Maybe I’ll help you.”
Elijah was nearing the top of the small hill, his body a dark shadow.
“And maybe I’ll just kill you,” Sam whispered, smiling, because he knew that the demon couldn’t hear him.
His dog would be back. Probably within forty-eight hours. And if he wasn’t ... there were always other
“Blond, black eyes, with black wings that hung over his shoulders ...”
Black wings. An angel of death.
“I didn’t even see the wings at first. They moved behind him, like weird-ass shadows.” A pause. “Just like yours.”
Sam rolled his shoulders and slowly stretched his back as he felt the ghostly flutter of wings that weren’t there anymore, not really.
Elijah hissed out a breath. “Weird-ass ... ”
The shadow wings were just an illusion. A magic memory. Only seen by demons or angels ... any who had the blood of the celestial beings in them.
Lucifer hadn’t been the only angel to fall. So many others had lost their grace. Or traded it for the chance to be like the humans.
No, the demons who walked the earth now weren’t puppets of the devil. They were descendants of the Fallen. Not as favored as humans, but not as cursed as most of the monsters, no matter what some of the zealots liked to think.
“Did he have any unusual marks?” Sam pressed. Who was he up against? You couldn’t fight a battle without knowing your enemy.
He’d been right. The vamp had been the link. The key. The Fallen had gone after her, just as Sam had suspected he would.
“No,” Elijah said with a shake of his shaggy head. “He was blond, and he had black eyes. He was one of them damn pretty-boy angels but ...” The demon’s eyes narrowed. “When I first saw him, I swear I felt a cold wind blow right over me.”
Sam’s breath expelled. Perfect. There were so many angels out there, so many different kinds—some harmless and some very, very dangerous. He didn’t want to waste his time with the harmless variety.
“How did he act with the woman?” A freshly-fallen angel would be confused. Unprepared for the onslaught of emotion—and need. Lust.
Easy pickings.
Elijah glanced over his shoulder. But, the demon didn’t need to check for a threat behind him. The real menace was right in front of him. Was the guy truly becoming a trusting sort now? Fatal mistake.
“His eyes kept going to her ...”
Interesting.
“And he said he was her guardian. ”
Sam’s lips quirked at that. He suspected the guy was far from a benevolent guardian angel. But if that was the spin the Fallen wanted to play, then who was he to bust the vamp’s bubble? At least, not yet.
“I’m all about killing a vamp.” Elijah crossed his arms over his bulky chest. “But I ain’t taking on that bastard.”
“You’re that sure he’ll take you out?” The demon’s fear was new. Elijah had never been afraid of a hunt before.
But Elijah was backing down. “I know Death when I see him.”
Yes, Sam was rather betting that he did.
“We’re done,” Elijah said, turning away and giving Sam his back. Oh, bad move. “I’m sick of dancing on your damn string ...”
Right. Same song, different fucking dance. “And where will you get your special brew, Elijah? When you walk away from me, who will help you?”
Now that stopped him.
Elijah looked back, and the struggle was clearly etched on his face. Like so many of his kind, Elijah had a bit of an addiction. Demons and addictions. When Elijah used his drugs, he could focus his thirst for blood and violence. With the drugs, he didn’t kill just anyone—he killed specific targets.
Without the drugs ... women, children— everyone became his prey.
Sam liked to think he’d been doing his part to keep the dog on the leash these last few months. But if Elijah was ready to bite the hand that had been feeding him ...
“You’re not the only game in town,” Elijah muttered and kept walking.
Oh, but I am.
“When you change your mind,” Sam called after him. “Maybe I’ll help you.”
Elijah was nearing the top of the small hill, his body a dark shadow.
“And maybe I’ll just kill you,” Sam whispered, smiling, because he knew that the demon couldn’t hear him.
His dog would be back. Probably within forty-eight hours. And if he wasn’t ... there were always other
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