A Little Bit Of Angel Lust
Sammael—call him Sam—was an angel once. An angel of Death. But the dispassionate, watch-from-above thing just wasn’t working for him when it meant watching evil torture innocent souls day in and day out. It might have cost him his wings, but these days he gets to apply the direct method on the bad guys. Problem is, what’s making his life difficult is a bad girl…
Seline O’Shaw needs protection, and with the hounds of hell on her tail, she’s not going to quibble too hard about where she gets it. Sam’s virtue is questionable, but he’s smoking hot, massively powerful, and owes her a favor. So what if she’s getting a little case of angel lust? There are some damn deadly sins after her hide…
Praise for Cynthia Eden’s novels
“Highly sensual and definitely dangerous.” —Shannon McKenna on Hotter After Midnight
“A wickedly unique voice in paranormal romance!” —Larissa Ione on I’ll Be Slaying You
“A fast-paced, sexy thrill ride you won’t want to miss.” —Christine Feehan on Eternal Hunter
Death could be kind or he could be cruel. Tonight, he
felt damn cruel.
Sammael’s dark wings flapped behind him as he watched
his prey. The stench of blood and sweat clung to the men.
They’d fought hard and long that day. They’d killed so
many—men, women, and children. Sammael had taken the
souls from the broken bodies. They’d seen him coming—
only those slipping from the mortal world ever saw an Angel
of Death—and their eyes had filled with terror.
So many dead in such a short time. He’d watched their
slaughter. Stood back while they begged and screamed.
His job was only to take the souls. He gave them peace
after their suffering. He served. He didn’t question.
There was no reason for him to be in this forest. No reason
for him to watch these men. They weren’t on the list for
death, not tonight anyway.
They were laughing and drinking. They didn’t sense him.
No one ever did—not until it was too late.
Blood still stained their hands.
Watch and wait and take the souls when it is time. That was
his job, and it was the job he’d done for centuries.
Angels didn’t feel emotion. They didn’t feel lust or love or
No, angels weren’t supposed to feel. But he’d never fit into
that perfect mold. Lately, he’d been feeling too much, and
he just couldn’t shut off the fury.
Sammael dropped to the ground. His wings closed in behind
him. To kill, to take a soul, he only needed one touch.
He smiled at the men. Some were stiffening and glancing
around, as if they sensed him.
They only see when death is at hand.
Sammael reached for the first man. Death is at hand for you.
One touch and the human fell to the ground with an expression
of twisted agony contorting his face. The laughter
stopped then, and the scent of fear teased Sammael’s nose.
His black wings spread behind him, powerful and strong.
When the others began to run and scream, his smile stretched.
No more watching.
Another touch and another body hit the ground. Again
and again. The laughter that filled the air was his now. He
had the power, and he didn’t feel like being kind to the mortals
Shouts of “devil” and “monster” filled the air. The shouts
were almost insulting, but he didn’t really expect these fools
to recognize an angel.
They saw him now because he’d changed their fate. Marked
by Death now. Death was closing in, and they couldn’t fight
him. There would be no escape.
When they ran, he just flew after them. He caught the
men, lifted them up into the air, and then tossed their dead
bodies back to the ground.
“Please . . . mercy!” One man’s desperate cry.
He had no mercy.
He touched and he killed . . . until no one was left.
When the haze of rage cleared from his eyes, the dead circled
The smile still lifted his lips when the wind began to whip
against Sammael’s body. The wind howled, screaming like
the dead men, no, like those women had screamed earlier
that day when they’d been slaughtered. Like the children
had screamed when he’d just stood there and watched the
No more watching.
He had the power. He’d take it, and he’d kill anyone he
Sammael’s body jerked into the air. He flew, high, higher,
way past the clouds and back to the domain of the angels.
But he didn’t return to heaven on his own accord. They
yanked him back.
“Sammael.” His brother’s voice boomed as Sammael
dropped onto the marble floor. “What have you done?”
Sammael rose slowly and let his wings stretch behind him.
His shoulders rolled as he stared at Azrael. He didn’t have to
answer to the other angel. When it came to the hierarchy of
the Death Angels, Sammael was at the top. Everyone else
should bow to him. They should all learn that lesson. “Don’t
dare to question me.” He was the power. It was past time
that he started to use that strength.
But his brother just shook his blond head. “You took
them. It wasn’t their time.”
“I made it their time.” No apology. His gaze swept the
room. Heavy with thick, white columns. Walls adorned with
gold. Perfect. Opulent.
Sammael turned away and headed for the gold-plated
Az appeared in his path and blocked his way. The other
angel had always been fast.
“We don’t judge,” Az said, voice flat. “We deliver those
that are charged to us. We are not to interfere in the lives of
humans. You know this.” Ah, his brother had better be careful. It almost sounded like some emotion had slipped into his
“I know we have the power to kill,” Sammael told him.
“So I killed.” And for the first time, it had felt . . . good.
“No, you punished.”
Perhaps. But those men had deserved a good punishment.
An eye for an eye, and a death for a death.
“There are others who dole out punishment,” Az continued,
his bright blue stare seeming to blaze right at Sammael.
“I just served them up to Uriel early.” Uriel and the band
of punishment angels that served under his wings. Wrath.
Oh, how he envied them.
Envy. One of the seven deadly sins. Angels weren’t supposed
to sin. Only men could sin and be forgiven. Angels
weren’t allowed that luxury.
They can torture, they can kill.
What about me?
“They would have found their way to Uriel’s hands
sooner or later,” Sammael said with a dismissive wave. He
didn’t back away from his brother. He never would. “I just
sped up the process.”
Az shook his head, and his hair brushed his shoulders.
Sammael was tired of pretending. Not perfect. “And I’ll do
it again.” He let the grim smile tilt his lips once more. “Humans
don’t have the power. We do. I do.” He’d be using his
power from now on. Humans would learn they should be
“That is not the way!”
“It is for me.” He shoved his brother aside. “The rules are
changing. The ones who get in my way...they will fear,
and they will die.” Because he wasn’t going to watch anything,
“Brother...” Az sighed after him. “Do you know what
The golden doors wouldn’t open. Sammael grabbed them
and pushed as hard as he could, but they wouldn’t budge.
The wind was howling again and that painful screech filled
Angels don’t feel pain. But that wind—the noise hurt.
The wind caught Sammael’s body and carried him into
the air. He hung suspended, his wings flapping helplessly and
his body straining, as Az slowly walked around him.
“There’s still time,” Az murmured, brows pulling together.
“Ask forgiveness, brother. Change your ways and
Watch for an eternity. Hear the screams and do nothing. See the
blood and only know the smell of death.
Sammael kept the smile on his face. “I ask for nothing.
From now on, I take.” Lives. Souls. Everything.
Az’s eyes narrowed. “Then you die.”
With those words, he fell. The elaborate room vanished
as Sammael plummeted from the sky. Wind whipped around
him, biting into his flesh as he fell, faster, faster, and—
Agony ripped through his body. A white-hot fire consumed
him, burning... ”Az!”
But his brother wasn’t helping him. No one helped him.
He fell, and he burned. His wings—always the most sensitive
part of his body—burned the longest, the hottest.
He screamed and screamed and seemed to fall forever.
When he hit, he expected death. Az had promised death.
But Sammael wasn’t dead. Broken, bloody, and burned,
but not dead.
And that was just the start of the hell to come.