AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They both jerk in surprise, my eyes hooking with the fallen angel’s. He seems to react on instinct, using the other man’s surprise to his advantage and he knocks the gun out of his hand, grabs it midair before kicking him into the brick wall so hard he slams his head and slides down with closed eyes.
My jaw slacks in shock at the violence but it’s not over yet. From the van in the back, a second man steps out with a rifle in his hands and I scream. Bullets start flying and the fallen angel lunges for me, pressing me up against the wall and covering me with his whole body. I scream, burying my face in his chest while bullets whip and hit him. He groans, gritting his teeth and his massive body heaves. They hit him a second time, making him jerk. Tears slide down my cheeks at the pain he must feel but he doesn’t stop protecting me. Every inch of me is covered with him.
Our eyes meet, his steel boring into mine and he silently nods, a cue for me to stay still and I nod in return. At that moment he swiftly turns around, raises the gun in his hand and fires. The bullet hits the shooter in the head and he drops face down, his blood coloring the puddles red. My fallen angel turns to me, his eyes consuming but wounded.
“Are you hurt?” he rasps and his voice is like a weapon in and of itself, strong and forceful and so deep that it sounds guttural.
“Me?” I whisper because I’m not the one...”You’ve been shot!” I cry and I rip open his leather coat open. There are two bullet wounds. One right below his ribs and one close to his collarbone. I whimper when he turns pale.
His gigantic body shudders and he makes a motion as if to sit down but staggers and sways down to the cobblestones. Blood stains his expensive black sweater, his lips shivering and I lay down on top of him as sirens burst in the background.
“You can’t die,” I whimper. “You can’t.”
I stroke his cheek as his lids flutter and his eyes roll back in his head. Please, please...he won’t die, he won’t die on me. Will he...?
2.
Viper
It was supposed to go seamlessly, the drop-off but I should have known not to trust gangbangers. I wasn’t surprised when he pulled a gun on me but I was surprised at the sound of a throaty, girly voice shouting at us. She came running out of nowhere, like a dark little cherry that had no business being here. Her hands had been pleading, her eyes terrified and only one thought crossed my mind when I saw her.
To get her the hell out of here.
When chaos erupted, I covered her, terrified any of the bullets would scratch her perfect skin. She screamed and shivered under me but she had nothing to fear, as long as I was here. I heard the bullets but I barely felt them when they hit me. All I could feel was a body that seemed to melt into mine, evaporate into me like incense evaporates into mist.
She didn’t even reach up to my collarbones, her nails digging into my chest and even in the chaos I was still very much aware of her breasts pressing into me. I was aware of all of her, from her frightened green eyes to the lemon blossom smell of her softly black hair.
A stirring erupts in my body when she rips open my leather coat.
“You’ve been shot,” she shrieks and her lower lip trembles and I look down. Fuck. Damage has been done but I close the coat again, not wanting her to look at the blood, fearing she might be squeamish and I fall to the ground when I go dizzy in the head. She comes down on top of me, looming over me like she’s trying to protect me from more invisible bullets. Thank fuck I killed those gangbangers. This girl seems willing to risk her life for my sake. A sudden rush of adrenaline bursts in me and I cup my hand around her throat
“Don’t you ever do that again,” I warn. “Don’t you dare ever risk your life for me.”
She startles before crying out, “You risked your life for me! Took bullets for me and...oh, please don’t die.” Her eyes are wide and she’s shaking, keeps trying to look at my wounds, keeps trying to stop the bleeding but I don’t want to get her dirty. She’s too clean. Too pure. Angel.
An angel with raven hair, trying to help a man who doesn’t deserve her mercy.
When my eyes flutter because I can’t help it, she lets out a choked sob. She leans in closer, warming me with her little body and it feels good because I’m starting to feel cold. I focus on her to not start to drift, focus on her face that’s getting wet from the rain and I count the pale freckles on her cheeks. Her throat is slender and she’s wearing a thin necklace with the letter T. I clasp the locket between my fingers, twirling it and her breaths come out in little pants.
“Name,” I rasp and she licks her full lips that are a little bit cracked in the middle.
“Tamsin Teller.” She looks around in distress and the sound of sirens slices my ears. “What’s yours?”
I don’t give out my name. Unless an angel is asking for it. “Viper Roz.” My eyes go to hers. “Were you following me?”
She had to have been. Why else would she have been in an alley and I frown when she nods. As I was walking I thought I sensed something behind me, but it was too non-threatening, too sweet for me to pay much attention to it. I don’t notice sweet things. I notice danger. Beautiful things like her fly below my radar. I don’t know beauty, what it tastes like, what it feels like to consume it.
In my life I have never had something fine, something good but now it’s sticking to me like it never wants to leave me. I would think that for something like her to stay in my presence, I would have to shackle her but she seems to have no plans on the two of us separating.
“My heart hurts,” I groan and her cheeks color from worry.
“Because of the bullets? Lay as still as you possibly can...”
“Not the bullets,” I grit between my teeth. Ignoring her recommendations on laying still, I lift my hand and touch her face. “Because of you.”
She’s gorgeous, too colorful and courageous for a dim world. Her hips flare underneath her jacket and the ends of her hair brush my throat, soft as feather strokes and I know I won’t die. But if I did, having a beauty like her looking down on me with that submissive expression on her face would be a hell of a good way to go.
I stroke my thumb over her mouth. “How can you be real? How could you have fallen down from heaven right into the arms of the devil?”
