Her Demonic Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 5) (Reading Sample) - Felicity Heaton (good books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📗

would he look like without those whiskers? He was handsome enough with them. Without them, he could probably lay waste to women with just a wink and a smile. “I’m not exactly welcome here.”

“Now I’m satisfied. So who is V?” She swigged her water, the cool liquid like bliss on her tongue and parched throat. She never wanted to drink anything other than fresh cold water for the rest of her life.

“Someone I don’t want you to meet but I think it wise that we stick together, at least until I know it’s safe here.” He straightened, his dark expression conveying the equally black feelings behind his words. Not jealousy this time. Not fear. A strange mixture of those two emotions, plus wariness and other ones that made him look as though keeping her with him was a struggle and all he wanted to do was keep her out of sight while he spoke to this V character.

He took a deep breath, his broad honed chest expanding deliciously with it and shattering her serious thoughts, and then waved a hand over his head. The action was more like a command, the sort of click of fingers you gave to a dog to get its attention.

Erin turned to see who he was signalling and found herself only a few inches from a pale, sharply dressed dark-haired man. His crisp black suit didn’t quite fit with the club, at odds with the scantily clad men and women. The man’s pale eyes slid down to her and his dusky lips curved into a sensual smile.

Veiron’s arm closed over her chest and he dragged her back against him.

“V,” he growled and the man’s icy gaze shifted up to him.

The man called V offered him a toothy smile that revealed canines that were either fakes or real and she was about to add vampire to the list of supernatural creatures that existed. After everything she had witnessed in Hell, nothing surprised her anymore. Vampires were probably just another type of demon after all, and she had catalogued plenty of different breeds of that particular species while waiting in her cell for visitors. The man in front of her was a vampire and the man at her back was a fallen angel, and who knew what else lurked in the club?

“Veiron. To what do I owe the pleasure? If the boss sees you here, she will not be pleased. You know her policy. No angels allowed, even if they are serving the right master.”

“Choose your words more wisely, Villandry, or we shall come to blows.” Veiron’s arm tightened across her chest and the vampire looked down at her, all charm as he smiled.

“I never thought mortal females would be your style. She’s pretty, I’ll grant you that, but last I recalled your tastes were a little more wicked... like mine.” Villandry raked his pale eyes over her and then curled his lip in disgust. “You know, I still haven’t forgiven you for storming into my home and nearly exposing me to sunlight.”

“I apologised, didn’t I? It’s the most you’re going to get out of me, so get over it. It isn’t why I’m here. I have a business proposition. I need you to keep your ear to the ground and let me know if you hear about anything major leaving Hell in the next few days.”

Erin frowned. Had they come to blows over a past lover? Erin didn’t like the thought of Veiron fighting for another woman. She tried to break free of his embrace but he tightened his grasp and held her firm, pinning her back against the solid heat of his front.

“Sounds dangerous, and expensive.” Villandry signalled the bartender. A pretty thirty-something blonde woman came straight to him and set a martini glass filled with dark liquid down on the bar. He smiled at Erin, lifted the glass to his lips and drained it in one go. He set the empty glass back down on the bar. “I want her.”

Veiron snarled and his grip on her shoulder tightened. “No fucking way.”

“I admit, I had said that I wouldn’t date your cast offs again, but this one is mortal and I would make our few short hours together pleasurable.”

“Please.” Erin resisted the temptation to hold onto Veiron’s arm across her chest for comfort and courage, glad now that she hadn’t managed to escape his hold. “I wouldn’t screw you if you were the last... thing... on Earth or in Hell. Sleazeball.”

“Erin.” Her name was a low warning curling from Veiron’s lips and she leaned back against him, afraid that she had pushed the man opposite her too far. His eyes began to darken, the paleness swirling together with what looked like pure black under the flashing coloured lights. “She is tired. You could say she has been through Hell.”

That was a poor joke. She rolled her eyes at it.

The vampire still didn’t look pleased.

“I am sure we can come to some agreement. I will keep my ears and eyes open and will have my men do the same. If anything comes here looking for a tasty little human and her escort, I will let you know.” Villandry waved to the woman serving behind the bar again.

“Thank you.” Veiron managed to growl those words in a voice that said quite the opposite. He wasn’t grateful at all to the vampire and his death grip on her shoulder conveyed a deep desire to make the man pay in a very painful way for requesting her as his remuneration for services rendered. “Does Taylor still live in London with Wingless?”

Who was Taylor and who was Wingless?

Erin turned to look up at Veiron to ask him that question but her gaze caught on someone who chilled her more than the Devil.

She shrank back into Veiron’s embrace, trying to avoid the man laughing and talking to two women across the room. People streamed between them but he would only have to glance her way at the right time and he would spot her just as she had spotted him. She had already gone through Hell. Couldn’t someone up there cut her a break? She hadn’t seen her ex in close to three years, since he had got drunk at her twenty-seventh birthday party and made a pass at Amelia, and four of her friends. Her sister had lousy luck with men but it looked stellar compared with Erin’s own run of worthless boyfriends.

Her gaze shot over the heads of the crowd and found the pink neon sign for the women’s bathroom. Safety. She could hide there and clean up while Veiron finished his conversation with the vampire. He could come and get her when he was done and they could hightail it out of the club together.

A larger group of people entered the club and began drifting through it towards her. It was her chance.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she said it loud enough for Veiron to hear.

He nodded and Erin made a break for it, merging with the group.

She was halfway to the bathroom when someone grabbed her arm. Tightly. She thought it was Veiron changed his mind about her being alone in the club but the hand on her arm was too small. Erin slowly turned to find her ex, Adam, staring in horror at her clothes. His look only worsened when his dark eyes reached her face. She probably looked as though she had been caught in a volcanic blast and had starved while escaping.

The roughly chopped lengths of his dark hair hung over one side of his face as he gave her another once over and his grip on her arm tightened when he reached her bandaged feet.

“What on Earth happened to you?”

Erin wasn’t sure how to explain everything she had just been through without sounding as though she was crazy and she didn’t feel the need to explain herself to him anyway. She had called Villandry a sleazeball but he wasn’t a patch on this man.

“Get your hand off me.” Erin tried to twist free of his grasp.

He dug his fingers in even harder. “No, Erin. I want to know what happened. Christ, your face... your legs... where did you pick up all those bruises and cuts?”

“Seriously, Adam, get your damn hand off me!” It came out louder than she had intended and several people nearby stopped to look at them.

Adam pulled on her arm when she struggled and she clawed at his hand, trying to prise it off her. He was hurting her.

A deep growl curled out over the music.

The entire room froze.

Chapter 8

Veiron needed to work on his impulse control.

He knew it, and so did the hundred people who had stopped dead and turned to stare at him when he had unleashed an ungodly snarl in Erin’s direction.

Villandry made a grab for his arm to stop him but Veiron easily shook the vampire off and stalked across the rapidly draining club to the man who had dared lay his filthy hands on Erin and upset her.

Erin paled as he approached, her amber eyes going impossibly wide. The human male with his hand on her seemed frozen in time, his fingers locked around Erin’s slender wrist and his back to Veiron.

Big mistake.

The man should have remained cognitive enough to get his fucking hands off Erin and get the hell out of Dodge with the rest of the mortals in the club crowd.

Veiron came up behind him and politely tapped him on the shoulder.

The mortal male turned slowly and looked up at him.

“I think it would be best if you did as she asked and removed your hand from her arm before I remove it for you... and I mean that literally. I’ll give you one second to take your hand off her or I’ll chop the damn thing off.” Veiron grinned down at the little man, showing him that he was serious. He might have reined in his temper enough to speak to the flea without going nuclear on his arse but the tethers holding his rage at bay were beginning to twist and snap.

He didn’t want to lose it, not when it would reveal himself to Erin and place her in danger by alerting any of his kind nearby to his location.

The man released Erin’s arm but didn’t back down. He did the one thing in the situation that was guaranteed to push the button on the detonator of Veiron’s anger.

He squared up to Veiron.

“Did you do this to her?” the man positively growled the words and Veiron frowned down at him. One of the tethers on his rage pinged and snapped. Three more and this man was dead. “What sort of sick fuck beats a woman?”

Veiron’s blood boiled. He might be a Hell’s angel but he would never hurt Erin. He would never lay a finger on her in that way. He snarled. Erin looked as though she wanted to say something to defuse the situation but it was too late.

Ping. Ping. Ping. And his rage was free.

Veiron growled, locked his hand around the mortal’s throat, turned with him, and drove him across the room until his back slammed into the curved black bar.

He bent over the man, tightening his hold on his puny neck, and