Fallen. Michele Hauf
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“He’s not a vampire. How can you possibly know?”
“He smells like blood and I saw the fangs.
Besides, I can sense them the same way I can sense the Fallen. Vibrations, baby. He’s a vamp. There’s another one below. They’re doing the tag team thing. But whatever. If you won’t listen to me, fine. I’ll follow your wake when you leave the club. Did you, um … bring your wooden stake?”
She twirled her knife, smiling mockingly as she did, then tucked it away in the leather sheath strapped under her arm. How she had gotten past security with that thing was beyond Cooper.
“Guess not.” She snapped her gum and the tilt of her head dusted a swath of gorgeous hair over a shoulder. “So, Juphiel.”
“That’s not my name,” he corrected quickly. “Not here. Not on earth.”
“Yeah? Okay, I’ll play. What’s the name of the man I’m going to poke with my big pointy knife and rip the heart out of?”
Chapter 2
“You’re kidding me, right?”
The man was ten kinds of sexy. And Pyx had been on earth such a short time even one kind of sexy was intriguing. His gray eyes featured wild spots of color. Each time she looked at them she saw a new one, azure, green, violet—or it could be the club lights. The shadow of a mustache emphasized his lips. And his square jaw advertised power and strength, a warrior.
Warriors she appreciated, and could definitely waste some time admiring. Angels were warriors, but so not her type.
It wasn’t fair. He was the enemy. She existed on this earth to kill him, not admire him.
And don’t forget it.
“Cooper Truhart?” she said after he’d given her his name. “What kind of name is Cooper?”
“I was conjured to earth and landed on top of a car,” he said casually. A wink was followed by a dangerous melt-her-steel-heart smile. “You should be glad I didn’t go with Mini.”
“You don’t use your angel name?”
“I have no desire to defame my divine name as I walk this earth. You don’t like it, that’s not my problem. What is my problem, is you. If I can’t kill you—and I’m not into murdering women—then I’ll need to turn my back. I’ll be leaving now. Not that you’re not a peach to talk to, but demons are not my thing.”
“You’re not my thing either, angel boy,” she called as he slid from the booth and strode off.
The kilt hem hit at his knees, and revealed tight, muscled legs with dark hair. He scratched his hip and batted that same sexy wink over his shoulder at her.
Pyx nodded, but couldn’t find a smile. “Idiot. He has no clue about the vampires. Guess someone better keep an eye on the poor, lost fallen angel. Because if I don’t, he’ll never survive to find his muse.”
And why not kill her? Since when did angels discern the moral quandary between killing a male or female?
Curse the black sea Beneath! Why breasts and curves? If this was a joke on her for something she’d done or not done the previous round she’d been summoned to stalk the Fallen, she did not appreciate it now. Because, okay, she had slipped up then. Then, she’d not located the Fallen she’d been assigned to kill until it was too late—a nephilim had been born.
She would prove herself this go-around. Her pride—yet another necessary sin—demanded it.
Easing her way through the crowd, Pyx found Cooper standing at the top of the stairs looking over the dance floor below. She approached slowly, keeping shy of his peripheral vision.
What would an angel be doing in a dance club when he should be stalking his muse? Unless he was picking up women for practice?
Didn’t make sense. Pyx knew the Fallen could have sex with mortal women, but they didn’t receive pleasure unless the act was with a muse. Seemed like a waste of time to go through the motions with any old woman and for no reward.
Pyx, on the other hand, could do as she pleased. She could be with any man she desired.
“A man?” she muttered, still put off by the fact she was a she. “What the heck would I do with one of them?”
Though she had to admit she did notice the males more than the females. Good thing for her sexual assignment. But the sexiest man in the room was also her target.
Maybe the muse was in the room? The Fallen were compelled toward their muses. Hmm …
Well, if he were going to attract a hapless mortal destined to carry his monster baby, his current fashion choice did aid in his allure.
“Why a kilt?” she wondered as she stepped behind Cooper and leaned onto the railing right next to him. “It’s like a skirt for guys, right?”
“It lets my dangly bits dangle,” he answered. “It’s a freeing feeling. You should try it—er, oops. You’ve no bits to dangle.”
“Are you mocking me, Fallen one?”
He turned and slipped his gaze down her torso and legs. An assessing look that unsettled her.
“Do you have issues with your sexuality, then? Because it seems as if you’re not overly pleased with the mortal costume you wear. Usually chicks wear dresses, or something feminine when out clubbing.”
A deeper blue edged the man’s gray eyes, and they pierced Pyx right through the heart. Which was strange because her heart was metal and nothing could penetrate it. The burn she felt in her chest must be residual effects from the whiskey.
He snapped his fingers before her.
“I do not have issues,” she returned. “I’m perfectly fine with the bits I’ve got.”
“They are lovely bits.” Now his eyes strayed to the V in her shirt where her breasts rose in soft globes. “Plan to take those babies for a spin while you’re here on earth?”
Pyx clasped the shirt opening. “Meaning?”
“Well, I know you, Sinistari. You’re all about the sin. Lust, pride, greed, vanity and gluttony. If you’re in the mood, I can help you with the lust.”
“You’d sleep with a demon?”
He shrugged. “I find my own desires are immense. And I do like redheads. Care for a kiss?”
Pyx shoved her fingers through the hair she wasn’t so sure about. It was too long and silky. It hung in her eyes. She blew at the bangs dipping over her brows. She couldn’t look at Cooper. And his question put her off. What to say?
“Kidding,” he said. “I’d like to keep you at arm’s distance if that’s all right with you.”
“Fine with me. I only need to stretch to poke you with my blade. But we’ll worry about that when the time has come. Back to the vamps,” she said. “You going to amble on out of here without backup?”
“I don’t understand your worry. And yes, I intend to amble without a care. Not even for the demon.”
“Fine.”
“Great.”
“It’ll serve me well enough.”
“Why’s that?” He scanned the crowd, not looking at her.
“You leave first, and I’ll follow the vampires as they track you.”
“They’re not going to—Why am I arguing with a demon? Good riddance, Sinistari.”
He skipped down the steps in his clunky boots and landed on the main floor with a jump. Without a glance up at her, he then danced his way along the crowd and into