Ashes of Angels. Michele Hauf

frame, most of the weight in his gut. “Go keep watch,” he said over a shoulder to his buddy.

      “If she’s one of them, we have to bring her to the boss.”

      “We will. Isn’t that right, pretty little muse?”

      Now Cassandra screamed. It was involuntary, her body reacting against her brain’s better judgment.

      The one who’d went to keep watch soared over her and her aggressor’s heads and landed on the top of the garbage bin with a dull thud. The blade dropped from the tossed man’s hand and landed in the snow.

      “What the hell?” The vampire holding her switched his attention to the tall, shirtless man standing not ten feet from them. He held a Taser in one hand and wielded a cocky grin like a switchblade.

      “Hi, honey, I’m home,” the angel said.

      “What took you so long?” Cassandra spit. The vampire still held her by a shoulder, but if he twisted farther to look at the angel …

      “Sorry. I had to shake a car off my wings.”

      “Your wings?” the vampire asked. “What, are you some kind of faery?”

      The angel straightened his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. “I say wings, and your first guess is faery?” He shook his head and made a come- and-get-me gesture with the fingers wrapped around the Taser.

      The vampire released Cassandra and turned to the angel in time to catch the Taser’s copper hooks with his thighs.

      Sam preened over the powerful device and nodded. “This is nice. I gotta get one of these for myself.”

      The vampire ripped out the hooks from his legs and growled. “Try again, you bloody faery.”

      “You shouldn’t use foul language in front of a lady.” Tucking the Taser into a back pocket, the Fallen then held up a palm, fingers tight together, and pointed them toward the vampire. “You ready for this?”

      “Ready for—”

      The angel shoved his spaded fingers through the vampire’s chest, pulled him forward and slapped his spasming body onto the ground. A hot, meaty blood scent assaulted Cassandra’s nose. The angel roared in myriad tongues like he had in the car. And in one hand, he held a bloody mass from which a puddle of crimson rapidly formed around his boots.

      “Mercy.” Cassandra’s knees wobbled. She was on the verge of hypothermia, too out of sorts, and she’d just watched an angel rip out a vampire’s heart.

      “Too bad there aren’t any witches in the area,” the warrior angel commented to the blubbering vamp. “I know they have a use for vampire hearts. Keeps them immortal.”

      The angel tossed the heart behind him, then made a gesture with his fingers that sent the vampire, seemingly weightless as a pillow, onto the garbage bin atop the other attacker.

      He bent and plunged his bloody hand into the snow to clean it off, and Cassandra noticed the flesh on his back was seamless. No sign wings had been there. It was broad and burnished from the sun and it would probably warm her if she clung to him….

       Just need heat.

      “Shall we?” Sam offered an arm, glistening with fresh-fallen snow and vampire blood. “I don’t think these two are the sort you should be spending your time with, honey.”

      “D-don’t honey me.”

      “It is a mortal endearment. You prefer sweetie? Perhaps mein little cupcake?”

      “Please, spare me your pitiful attempts at charm.” Cassandra stumbled past him, but turned and grabbed the Taser from his back pocket. “Give me that. It’s mine.”

      The angel slapped a hand to her wrist, easily winning the weapon from her frozen grasp. He tilted the stubby barrel against his shoulder and eyed her calmly. “Take it from me, and it’s yours. Cupcake.”

      Like that was possible.

      And what was with the endearments? If he thought to win her over, the guy needed to take off and never return.

      Cassandra turned and marched away from the one man on earth she knew wanted to do her harm. And it wouldn’t be by chance, like the two idiots piled on top of each other at the end of the alley.

      Sam hooked an arm in hers and walked her swiftly down the snowy street. Cassandra struggled to keep up. All parts of her felt heavy and burned, but the sight of the mangled car made her pause. Cut open and the steel carapace peeled back, it looked as if someone had taken a giant can opener to it. “You think that looks bad, you weren’t the one trying to get it off your wings,” the angel said. “Clever trick, though.”

      “The T-Taser is mine.”

      “I’ll keep a hand on it for a bit.”

      “Where are you taking me?”

      “To your home. You need to get supplies.”

      “F-for what?”

      “In case you hadn’t noticed, Cassandra, vampires are after you.”

      “As well as a Fallen angel!”

      “I’m not after you. I’ve already found you, dear one. The vampires, on the other hand, are on the hunt for muses. I’m sure you’ve plenty more weapons at your home, and probably some nasty angel spells, too, eh?”

      “Spells that’ll repel you from me. If you think we’re going t-to g-get busy—”

      “I’ve already explained I’ve no intent to harm you. Convincing you will have to wait. You’re shivering madly. Your skin is colder than mine. Frostbite is a real danger. I won’t have that.”

      “You’d pass up a ch-chance to nab some nasty vamps to get me warm?”

      His eyes grabbed her the moment they connected. Cassandra could not resist the warmth in them, the utter dazzle of colors. Did he possess some kind of mind control? Some means to see into her thoughts? Transfixed, she swallowed.

      “I would do anything you ask, Cassandra.”

      “Anything? Then let go of me. I can walk myself.”

      “You can barely stand.” He lifted her into his arms, and the thought to struggle did not come to her fuzzy mind. “I can find your home.”

      “Can you read my thoughts?”

      “Now that I’ve you in my arms, I can read your heat trail.”

      That sounded nifty, but she didn’t say so as he marched her south. She allowed him to do so because she wasn’t thinking straight and she needed to conserve her energy so she could think once she got home.

      “So … you’re S-Sam?” My Sam, she thought. Then she mentally kicked herself. Hard.

      “You know much. I had expected you would initially be quite surprised by me.”

      “My Granny Stevens taught me everything she knew about angels and demons and me being a muse,” she said.

      They turned west. Her apartment was just up the street. She was not leading him, but her shivering limbs homed on it like a beacon and he probably sensed that.

      “You know angel names?”

      Time to shut up. If he wasn’t going to tell her his name again, it didn’t matter to her. As soon as she got home, she’d perform an angel repulsion spell and kick his ass back to the Ninth Void.

      After she warmed up. Would she ever warm? Her blood had stopped moving, she felt sure. And her skin burned with frostbite.

      “Samandiriel is my name,” he finally confirmed. “And please, release your worries regarding our connection. I Fell with a greater purpose than merely tupping mortal females.”

      “Right.