But Seth is much more than he seems. A Nephilim, a son of Angels with wings of his own, Seth is bound to spend his life hunting the Shemyaza, evil descendants of Angels. He's kept his wings hidden from Abby in order not to frighten her, but as her stalker becomes bolder, Seth begins to suspect that a Shem has Abby in its sights
As their flirtation escalates into full-blown passion, Seth is torn. Should he reveal his true nature to the beautiful, trusting Abby? Will she accept him, wings and all, or will Abby flee her guardian angel and fall prey to the sinister force that wishes her harm?
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You can learn about Dana at www.danamariebell.com
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Seth wiped the blood off his blade with a charred piece of the Shemyaza's shirt. The wind ruffled his wings, sending a chill down his spine. That sensation never failed to amaze him, considering his wings were made of power and light. "Is that it? Are there any more of them?"
The Shem were angel-born who had given themselves over to their baser desires, becoming demonic in both appearance and temperament. Like the Nephilim, they had the ability to appear as human as Seth normally did. It was the job of the Nephilim to hunt them down, to keep humanity safe from their depravities. They almost always hunted alone, unable or unwilling to share hunting grounds with one another.
Unfortunately, from time to time Shem had been known to gang up on some poor soul, especially if they knew Nephilim like Seth were in the area.
Damien lifted his face to the wind and closed his dark blue eyes. Light cascaded over his body in rippling, iridescent waves, highlighting his black hair. He opened his eyes, his expression serene, the light fading away to nothing. It always awed Seth to watch him work, that beautiful light show that marked his friend as a Malachi, one of the rarest of the Nephilim. One of his gifts was the ability to sense angel-born within a few miles of his location, a serious advantage when they were hunting. "I think so. I can't sense anything for miles."
Seth put his blade in its specially designed over-the-shoulder sheath. The short sword and sheath would be mostly hidden by his T-shirt, completely hidden if he wore a trench coat. "Dante? You can put him out now."
"Aw, Dad. You never let me have any fun." The vicious grin on Dante's face was lit by the burning Shem at his feet. Dante waved a hand and the fire went blue-hot, burning the figure to ash before going out completely. Even the ashes would be cold within seconds. "Speaking of fun, any idea when Piotr will get back into town?"
Of all the Nephilim, Seth was the closest to Piotr, so it made sense that Dante would ask him. They shared a history none of the others would ever understand. He was Piotr's brother in all but blood, more so than with any of them. "Last I heard, he was in Moscow."
Damien holstered the gun he'd brought to the fight, hiding it under his trench coat. He had all the necessary concealed-carry permits, something Dante had insisted on for all the Neph who chose to use firearms. "Why is he in Moscow? Isn't that where the Shemyaza leader is hiding out?"
Seth grinned. He wasn't touching that one with a ten-foot pole. "Have you ever done one of those random-name-generator things?"
"Oh, here we go," Dante muttered, dusting Shem ash off his jacket and out of his dirty-blond hair.
Seth was glad he didn't have Dante's powers. As a Seris, Dante's power over fire was frightening, but it came with an equally fiery temperament that often got the detective in trouble with his chief.
"We should do one of those and see what our Mafia names should be."
Dante never took the bait, but Damien
"Our Mafia names?" Damien made a face as he stepped around the ashy remains of the Shem.
"Yup. You could be Damien the Douche."
Damien bopped Seth on the back of the head.
"Seriously. We could call Dante"
Dante bopped Seth on the back of the head, staggering him. Damn, the bastard's strong. He forgot sometimes how strong, because Dante would never really hurt one of his Nephilim brothers. "Va all inferno, stronzo."
Damien's grin was pure evil. "Would you like a translation? I'd be more than happy to give it to you."