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Saint Or Sinner (Bad Things Book 8), Page 2

Cynthia Eden


  The bouncer frowned. “What?”

  Josephine gave a long-suffering sigh. Luke had said the guy liked sin. “He’s probably drinking like a lush, burning through money faster than you can blink, and making out with every willing woman he can find.”

  The bouncer just laughed. “That describes most of the jerks in this joint.”

  Fair enough. “I’ll look on my own.” She peered up into his eyes. “Just stay out of my way.”

  His mouth went slack. His eyes glazed. He nodded.

  “Excellent.” She patted his cheek and realized she had one more question. “What’s the name of this place?”

  “Razor’s Edge.”

  She lifted a brow and then turned toward the crowd. Angel, angel…where are you? Josephine took her time strolling through the crowd of men and women there. Lights were flashing on the dance floor, casting heavy shadows against the walls, and she saw tons of couples glued together as they gyrated and—

  Wings.

  She stopped. Backtracked and glanced at the far wall. A tall, dark-haired man stood there, and behind him, she could have sworn that the shadows had just taken the shape of black wings. Her eyes narrowed. She turned on her heel and headed for the fellow. As she advanced, her gaze swept over him. He didn’t seem to notice her because his attention was glued to the redhead with double Ds who stood way too close to him. The redhead’s hand was on his chest, and she was leaning forward to give him a stellar view of her world class cleavage.

  The man…Josephine studied his profile. Sexy. Handsome. High cheekbones. Long, straight blade of a nose. Rock hard jaw. Not so much as a hint of stubble on his cheek. Too perfect. She liked her men rougher. Wilder.

  He was tall, probably around six-foot-two, maybe six-foot-three. Muscled—she could see that even though the guy was wearing some fancy suit coat. One that reeked of money. The shadows behind him were gone. The flashing lights had stilled momentarily, and Josephine wondered if she was just closing in on a human. She hated wasting time, but those shadows…

  “Why don’t you take me to your place?” the redhead practically purred. “I’ll give you the best night of your life.”

  Josephine’s eyes widened. That was a big promise. She waited for the guy to eagerly accept.

  Only…

  He didn’t.

  Instead, his head slowly turned until he was staring—

  At me.

  Bright blue eyes. The bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Eyes that seemed to stare at her with recognition. Recognition, lust and…possession. His stare was so greedy and hot that she actually glanced over her shoulder, thinking the fellow had to be looking at someone behind her. Because he was staring at her as if he knew her. As if he’d seen her naked, had her naked beneath him, dozens of times. The look of a lover.

  The crowd was thick behind her. No one was there, staring soulfully back at Mr. Blue Eyes. Weird. Josephine glanced back—

  “Hello.”

  Shit. He was right in front of her. He’d moved—fast and quiet—and she hadn’t even known. That should have been impossible. No one snuck up on her. She had enhanced vamp senses, but—

  His hand lifted, and his fingers brushed over her cheek in a gentle caress. Then he stilled, as if surprised. His fingers lingered against her cheek. “I can touch you.”

  Josephine considered knocking him out. She had the vamp strength to do it. Well, maybe. She’d never fought an angel before—if he is the angel—so she wasn’t sure how powerful he’d be. But if she could knock him out, get the golden chain on him, then bingo…this job would be done.

  She could serve him up to Luke. And get her freedom. Finally.

  “Uh, what in the hell?” A woman’s sharp voice demanded. “Get away from him!”

  Josephine lifted one brow. The redhead had closed in. She was easily a head taller than Josephine. Right. Being short—for eternity. One of her perks. She barely topped five feet three inches in her heels. And she was wearing some killer heels right then. Seriously, killer. Blades could pop out of the heels. But she was hoping to keep a low profile so… “He’s near me, honey. And I think it’s time for you to leave.” She motioned her hands in a scoot, scoot manner.

  The redhead’s mouth opened, then closed. Then it opened again.

  “You’ll find another guy in like three seconds, five tops.” Josephine spared her a quick glance. “You’re gorgeous. The men will fight for you.” And I’m doing you a favor, sister. You don’t want the trouble this guy will bring.

  The redhead was totally decked out in her clubbing clothes. How she could breathe in that skin-tight dress was beyond Josephine. Meanwhile, Josephine wore her faded jeans, a t-shirt that might scoop a little low but was deliciously comfortable, and, of course, her killer shoes. Never leave home without them.

  “I. Want. Him.” The redhead’s voice had turned grating. Her cheeks flushed. An eruption was obviously imminent—

  “She’s mine, and I am hers. You should leave.”

  Josephine’s gaze flew back to Mr. Blue Eyes. His stare was locked straight on her. He’d spoken those words simply, quietly, and with utter conviction. She’s mine, and I am hers.

  “What the fuck ever!” The redhead stomped away. “Your loss, jackass!”

  She’s mine. Yeah, he was a jackass. But was he an angel jackass? Josephine moved a bit to the side, trying to check out his back. It looked normal.

  Where were his wings?

  His hand slid over her cheek. “You feel warm.”

  “You shouldn’t touch people you don’t know. It’s rude as shit. And if a woman doesn’t give you permission to touch her, then don’t put your hand on her.”

  His eyes widened and his hand immediately jerked back. “I-I didn’t think we’d make contact.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “I’ve never been able to touch you before. I’ve tried, but…” He swallowed. “Didn’t happen.”

  Okay, that was not good. “Listen, buddy, you don’t know me—” But she stopped. Wait. What the hell was she doing? She should be trying to charm the guy. The way he was acting, he’d follow her right out of the club without so much as a single protest. If she pretended like she was ready to take the redhead’s place, he’d be all smiles and eagerness. She could get him outside, away from curious humans, and—good-bye, final tally mark.

  “I know you.” His voice was low. Rumbling. Oddly sexy. If you were into the Vin Diesel deep voice thing, anyway. She…was. She really, really was. She may have watched the original Fast and Furious far too many times to count. Hashtag fan.

  “In your dreams, you know me.” Josephine’s flippant response was instant.

  But he nodded.

  So she leaned closer to him. “Who are you?”

  His body stiffened. He looked over her shoulder. Frowned.

  Her nostrils flared. Oh, crap. She’d just caught a wild, woodsy scent and that was going to spell serious trouble.

  Time to cut to the chase. “Do you have wings?”

  Her gorgeous stranger frowned at her. “Are you…all right?”

  “Are you an angel?” The woodsy scent was getting stronger. She should have considered this, dammit, when Luke had told her that she’d be traveling to Sin City.

  Josephine had a few too many enemies in Vegas. Enemies who had eyes everywhere. Maybe she’d promised to stay out of the city after she’d, ahem, beheaded the leader of the coyotes. That hit hadn’t been one of Luke’s assigned kills. It had been a necessary act because that particular alpha had been a straight-up psycho.

  But surely one brief visit wasn’t really violating her agreement with the pack, was it? “Look, buddy, I don’t have time to spare.” She pulled up her compulsion power, stared into his crazy, gorgeous blue eyes, and demanded, “Are you an angel?”

  He shook his head.

  Fantastic. She was wasting time.

  A growl reached her ears. Low, animalistic. Josephine exhaled dramatically. She stared at Mr. Blue Eyes. “Thi
s is going to get ugly. I’d highly recommend that you get your ass out of here.” Then she raised her voice as she turned toward the packed dance floor. “Everyone, get out!”

  They kept dancing.

  Would they still be dancing when the blood starting spilling? Probably. Humans.

  Three men pushed their way through the throng. Tall, muscled, all carrying the distinctly wild scent…of coyotes.

  One guy had a long scar that slid over his cheek. Because of the way coyotes could heal, the fellow would have gotten the wound before his first shift. The scar marked him, though, made it easy for her to remember him—

  He’s the new Vegas coyote leader. And he wants to take my head.

  She gave him a friendly wave. “Kellan! I’m over here! I think you’re looking for me.”

  Actually, he was already looking straight at her. He was stalking straight toward her.

  Three coyotes. One vampire. A club full of humans. Oh, yes, this was a recipe for a bloodbath.

  “Josephine Saint.” Her name emerged as an angry snarl from Kellan. “You’re a dead woman.”

  Josephine shook her head. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s undead, not dead. If I were dead, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be decomposing someplace.” She flashed him a wide smile. “How’d you know I was in town?”

  Claws sprouted from his fingers. Someone was not in the mood to play. And the humans were still there.

  “Fire!” Josephine yelled at the top of her lungs. That was what you were supposed to say, right? When people ignored your warnings and your other screams? She swore she remembered an Oprah show about that from like, a million years ago. “Fire!”

  Her yell did get people running. Finally, the humans paid attention. They stampeded for the door. They must really not want to burn. Oprah had been right.

  Josephine didn’t rush to flee the scene. She just braced her legs apart and—

  “If there is a fire, you should leave.”

  What?

  Blue Eyes was there. Staring at her. Nodding. “We should both get out if there is a fire. I know you don’t want me to touch you, but we can walk out together without touching.”

  Okay, he definitely wasn’t the guy she was after. Luke had said her prey was obsessed with sin. And this guy—he’d turned down the sexy redhead and now he was trying to play the hero? So not my target.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Josephine.” Kellan’s body was getting…bigger. Uh, oh. He was shifting. “You knew the rules. You broke the rules. Now you have to pay.”

  “And here I am, without my wallet. So embarrassing.” She exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to kill you and your dogs. That’s not why I’m here.”

  “Bullshit! You want a war, you’ll get—”

  “I’m looking for an angel. I get him, and then I leave.” Simple enough. She took a few steps toward Kellan. Slow, confident steps. Steps that said she wasn’t afraid of the big, bad coyote. Because she wasn’t. “But if you get in my way, then you’re going to die.” She smiled at him once more. “Cool?”

  He lunged for her. Guess it’s not cool. Her fangs burned in her mouth as they extended even more and she leapt into the air to—

  Blue Eyes caught Kellan. He’d jumped in front of Josephine, moving too damn fast. His hands wrapped around the neck of the coyote leader, and he tossed the guy back. He threw Kellan into the bar, and glasses smashed and shattered.

  The other two coyotes lunged forward. Josephine shot into the air, and she hit the closest coyote in the chest with her heel. She felt the high heel break, and when the coyote howled, she knew her knife had sliced into him. Her silver knife. Coyotes and werewolves both suffered from a wee silver allergy. It paid to be careful when you knew those guys were around.

  And, um, when you knew they had a price on your head.

  The last standing coyote should have played it smart—he should have turned tail and fled. He didn’t. He let out a bellow of fury and charged at Blue Eyes. Before the coyote could make contact, Josephine slammed her body into the shifter’s. They hit the floor, and they were rolling. Fast and hard and—

  She bit him.

  His blood gave her a burst of super strength. It fueled her so that when she jerked her mouth away from him, the guy didn’t stand a chance against her punches. He was unconscious two seconds later.

  Three coyotes down.

  She swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. Josephine glanced up. The club was deserted, and she could hear the wail of a fire truck’s siren. Someone had called in her false fire.

  The lights from the dance floor were flashing again, but no music was playing. There was only thick, hard silence.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She looked up.

  Up—into very, very blue eyes.

  “You…you’re bleeding.”

  Her hand swiped over her mouth again. She jumped to her feet. “Not my blood.”

  His face hardened.

  “What in the hell are you?” Because no way could a human do what that guy had just done.

  He shrugged. And when he rolled his shoulders…when the lights from the dance floor flickered behind him…she saw the shadows shift and bend.

  Saw the outline of black wings. I’ll be damned. True enough.

  “I know what you are.” She laughed because he’d caught her off-guard. But only for the moment. Her hand shoved into her pocket. Her fingers curled around the chain there. Perfect. She sidled toward him. Leaned in close, but didn’t touch.

  His pupils had flared, the darkness spreading to mute the bold blue of his eyes. “What am I?”

  “You’re a liar.” She yanked the chain out of her pocket and whipped it up and out, aiming for his neck. This job was going to be the easiest one of her whole entire undead life—

  He caught the chain in mid-air. And suddenly, he didn’t look so friendly. So perfectly handsome. His features hardened. Sharpened. Went cold and deadly.

  She realized that he’d been playing her…all along. Every single moment.

  Well, shit.

  He fisted the chain in his hands, and he ground it up into dust.

  All right. That was unexpected.

  “Be very careful, my Josephine.” His voice was a low rumble. A thick rasp that sent shivers down her spine, and she was not the shiver type. So not. She was the ass kicking type. No man made her shiver.

  Except, he wasn’t a man, was he?

  “I’m fucking pissed right now because you just had your fangs in another man’s throat. Then you dared to come at me with a capture chain?”

  Ah, so he knew exactly what sort of little weapon Luke had given her. “I dare all kinds of things. It’s part of my charm.”

  His gaze was on her mouth. “And you called me a liar.”

  “Because you are…angel.”

  He leaned in closer. His mouth was right over hers. “I’m not an angel, sweetheart. Not any longer. I’m fallen.”

  He wanted to push semantics with her? “Fallen or angel, I’m still taking your sexy ass back upstairs.”

  “No, you won’t.” His gaze was just hot on her. She could practically feel the burn. “And if you come after me again, I won’t be so nice next time.”

  “Right, you just—”

  Wings burst from his back. Not shadow wings like she’d seen before. Big, wide, feathered wings that were freaking huge and oddly beautiful. Before she could say another word, he’d erupted, flying straight up through the ceiling, smashing through the wood and shingles and whatever hell else was in a roof.

  “That’s not fair!” Josephine yelled after him. “I don’t have wings, you jerk! I can’t follow that way!”

  He didn’t stop. He didn’t look back. And since he didn’t look back, the angel—Malik—didn’t see her smile.

  Now I know what you look like. There would be no more hiding. Her broken high heel scraped over the remains of the chain. Losing the chain was a slight problem, but she’d deal with that. There were plent
y of witches in this town who owed her a favor. Surely one of them could enchant some other chain for her.

  Her prey never got away. Never. Malik wasn’t going to be the one who broke her perfect record. He was her ticket to freedom. She had his scent, and by sunrise, he’d be bagged and tagged, and on his way back to Luke.

  That was a Josephine Saint guarantee.

  ***

  “We’ll get her, Kellan. We’ll track her down.”

  Kellan stood in the darkness, watching as the human authorities swarmed the club. He’d gone in there after Josephine, wanting some payback but he’d come out…

  With a whole new end game. “I don’t care about Josephine. She doesn’t matter anymore.”

  He turned and saw his two shifters gaping at him. Didn’t they get it? “That was an angel, boys.”

  At his words, they just stared at him.

  “Did you miss the fucking wings?” Kellan snarled.

  “But—”

  “An angel’s wings are worth more on the black market than you can possibly imagine.” They could kiss too-hot Vegas good-bye with those wings. They could live the high life and have anything they wanted. Have everything.

  “He…he seemed pretty strong, boss.”

  Yeah, he had. So what? “Next time, we’ll be stronger.” It was a numbers game. “Call in every coyote you can find. The bastard angel is somewhere in this town, and we’re taking his wings.”

  He’d get the wings. He’d get the cash for them, and then he could finish up his business with Josephine.

  So he’d lost the first round. No big deal. In the end, he’d be the one on top. He’d cut those wings from the freaking angel. He’d sell the feathers to the highest bidder. Finally, things would change for his pack.

  All it would take was just a little bit of blood…

  And an angel dying.

  Chapter Two

  He’d touched her. Actually felt her warm, silken skin beneath his fingertips. And now, like an addict, he wanted more. Wanted to caress her, wanted to touch every single inch of her body. Wanted to possess her. Own her.

  Fuck her.

  Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

  Malik watched his vampire as she strolled through the city. She didn’t even know that he was there. She wouldn’t see him, just as Josephine hadn’t seen him all of the other times that he’d watched her. At that moment, he was nothing more than a shadow. A whisper in the wind. He could come and go as he pleased.