Gabriel
Rain dripped from my hair, soaking my collar, but the blood pounding in my temples was molten lead.
I hauled Azeelia into the back of my armored SUV, slamming the door shut with enough force to shudder the chassis. Dante sped away, leaving the burning wreckage of the ambush behind us on the dark river parkway.
Azeelia sat on the leather bench, her emerald slip dress ruined, shimmering green silk clinging to her shaking frame. Tempered glass dust sparkled in her dark hair like crushed ice. She pressed a trembling hand against a thin scratch on her collarbone, but her eyes—those stubborn, defiant brown eyes—were blazing with pure venom.
"Don't look at me like that!" she spat, wiping rain from her eyelashes. "You had no right to hunt me down like a fugitive!"
"I had no right?" My
