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As she made her way out of the alley she stopped and turned to her right, picking up a different scent. This one belonged to a demon, not a vampire. Demons were so much more fun to kill than vampires, the exception being Belial.
Normally they gave one hell of a fight. If it was a demon from the second fall, the fall led by Asmodeus, she might stop and throw a beer back with him. Right before The Flood, Asmodeus and two hundred of his brother angels fell because they wanted to experience what the humans had been given. Instead of protecting them, they tried to become them.
In doing so they were called by a new name. Rebel Watchers. When they mated with the humans a race of Nephilim were born, which resulted in the purifying Flood. Nowadays those demons fit in with the population, and they were decent enough.
Demons from the first fall were centered on power. They had refused to play second fiddle to a bunch of humans, thinking they were superior. The demons that had fallen with Asmodeus in the Second Angelic Revolt had fallen out of pure lust. She could totally understand that reasoning. Hell, she wanted to get her ass handed to her during a fight just so she could lay a guy.
She was pathetic. Demon or vampire. She had to make a decision. Chase after vampire scum who ran from the sight of a petite female, or track down a demonic ass-kicking that would hopefully shed some excitement on her rather boring night.
She turned down the alley, following the scent of the demon—spicy, dangerous and highly turbulent. They exuded an aura unlike any other creature, and no wonder. They were his messengers of love and wrath. Angels of death and destruction.
They had no problem getting a job done, and would take any measures necessary to get the job done right. Still, with all of those impressive attributes, one would think she would have a hard time taking one down.
Not so. Which begged the question; why were her fantasies so wrapped around her being helpless and fragile? She was anything but those things. Why did she want to feel dominated? She stalked down another alley, this one littered with trash and the homeless who sat against the walls of the buildings. The demon was nowhere to be seen. She kept her gaze averted as she passed the hungry.
The desperation she read in their eyes would pull her out of her hunt-and-kill mode. She needed to stay alert. At the end of the alleyway she turned to the left, catching another whiff of the demon. She was close enough now to smell a hint of cologne. The musky scent settled over her body like a cloak. A reminder of what could be. To feel his solid, masculine form against her equally solid, yet shapely form? Skin to skin. That thought ruined her fantasy.
She needed to start eating a little junk food here and there. She had nothing for a man to grab on— An arm dropped out of nowhere, hooked around her neck and flipped her to the ground. Her head thwacked against the cement as she landed flat on her back. Son of a bitch. Had she not been a vampire that move would have killed her. So deep in her fantasy, she had let her guard down.
She cursed her lack of concentration. She needed to get laid something fierce. Before she could spring up, a boot came down on the tender flesh of her neck. A rather large, black military boot that connected to faded denim jeans and a black T-shirt. The one guy who literally got her on her back was gay. Just her luck. Also By Dawn McClure.
AZAZEL DAWN MCCLURE PDF
As she made her way out of the alley she stopped and turned to her right, picking up a different scent. This one belonged to a demon, not a vampire. Demons were so much more fun to kill than vampires, the exception being Belial. Normally they gave one hell of a fight.
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Preview — Spirit Bound by Christine Feehan. Dawn Mcclure is on page 44 of of Spirit Bound. Dawn McClure How refreshing to have a heroine who embraces her sexuality!!! You just might get it. I love tough as nails heroes and snarky, fun heroines.