Angel Blood

3- Angel's Ruin

He takes a step towards me, ignoring the gun poised at his head. "You're a tiny creature just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Get back," I hiss, taking a shaky step backward. I'm usually not so nervous upon confrontation with my enemies, but then again, they usually don't come quipped with wicked grins and a death wish.

Sinclair cocks his head, noting the way my hand trembles with eyes flickering with amusement. "Come, little one. I'll make this fast for you."

I manage to roll my eyes even with the nerves festering wildly in my belly. "Oh, fuck off. Do you not see the gun pointed at your head right now?"

He clucks his tongue, eyes raking down my body again. His gaze is slow this time, taking its time over the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts over the low neckline of my dress. I shiver, my skin tingling where his leer brushes as if phantom fingers follow in their wake.

"You're definitely not what I expected," he murmurs, ignoring the glare I shoot him. Instead, he takes into an easy stride towards me, unconcerned with the fact that his death is nearly within my grasp.

So I shoot. Even with trembling hands my aim is true, hitting him in the center of his chest.

He stills, body shuddering with the impact of the bullet embedding itself in his flesh. Slowly, his arm rises as he presses a tentative finger to the flesh wound, watching with a strange blankness as dark liquid comes off on his skin.

My lips part as he stays standing, another dose of terror filling my veins as his head slowly raises to meet my gaze. Cold fury settles over his features, the inked serpent twitching over the flesh of his forearm.

Goosebumps prickle on my arms. Terror tightens my stomach, bile biting the back of my throat. My back hits the wall as I take another step back, icy fear overcoming my body in all the most unpleasant ways. It's a terrible thing, knowing you're about to die.

"What the fuck are you?" I manage to whisper past my tight throat.

He doesn't respond as he starts towards me again. I fire off a few more panicked shots, the sharp pops making my ears ring. Sinclair doesn't stop as they embed inside of him, body rocking back slightly under the blows until he approaches me close enough to snatch the weapon from my fingers.

My fist whips out but he catches it with the ease of swatting away a fly. Slowly, he raises the gun to my temple.

I close my eyes and wait for death. I have no family and apparently no true friends. I came into this world unwanted and will leave just the same. The thought sends an ache into my heart.

I crack an eye when nothing comes. His dark brows are knitted, gaze trained on my arm. I still, already knowing what's to come before my eyes meet the exposed skin.

There it is—my sleeve pushed down, revealing the ink marking me as divine blood. By the savage curiosity on his face, I know this won't end well for me.

His fingers creep up to push the fabric down some more, studying the large cross smeared with his friend's blood.

"What's this?" he murmurs, another grin curling over his lips. Something close to excitement sparks in his eyes. "You're one of them."

I don't say anything, jaw clenching so tightly that my teeth ache.

"What's your name, angel?" He pushes the gun further into my temple, causing a dull ache to throb through my head.

I grit my teeth, pulse pounding at my neck. "Calli."

"Calli," he breathes, looking thoughtful. "You're more trouble than what I bargained for."