EXTRACT: Angel Bite: Watchers and Warriors Series, Book 2

If you haven't yet read Angel Redeemed: Watchers and Warriors Book 1, stop here, go and read the first book in the series, and then you can come back here for a preview of the sequel...

Chapter One

Claire Thordis pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyelids shut. The scent of cosmopolitans and sweat-soaked lust filled the air.

Ladies’ night at Nitro always drew a large crowd.

A pendulum of pain tapped behind one pupil. Prying her eyes open, squinting through a blur of neon lights and pyrotechnic smoke, she refocused on tonight’s target.

Still there. Worrying her bottom lip, the pulse in her veins raced in time to the electronic beats of deadmau5.

“Need that topped off, Claire?” Thursday night’s bartender held up a water tap, interrupting her thoughts.

She waved him off, shaking her head, not wanting the distraction. “No, I’m good, Donnie.”

Several days ago, she’d been stupid. She’d allowed chaos to rip an angel-sized hole through her routine. And now she needed to get control back. Grab routine by the horns.

Two days had passed since Devin’s disappearance in Sedona. Claire had spent the first twenty-four hours on the sofa in what felt like a catatonic state. This morning, a floodgate of emotion threatened to explode. Something Claire couldn’t allow. Before losing all control, she’d sprung from the sofa cushions, gone to work, and decided it was time to

rein it in.

But that plan backfired. Her boss kicked her out, waggling a scornful

finger up and down. “You’re too unfocused. The last thing I need is a medical examiner who can’t do her job. Out, Claire. Out now. Go home. And don’t come back until you’re feeling better.”

Phil thought she still suffered from the side effects of food poisoning. Claire couldn’t tell him the truth. She needed to work. And because her boss ruined that plan for distraction, she needed another. Claire peeked left again. A sandy-haired, blue-eyed distraction who might be two years younger. Maybe twenty-seven? She cursed under her breath. “Stop stalling. Get on with it already.”

Yep, she’d been fine up until six days ago. Life had been normal. Quiet.

Routine. That was until two bodies in her morgue got up and walked away, spurring that whirlwind of chaos.

Perhaps she should have distanced herself from the entire mess. But her best friend, who was more like a sister, was involved. So she’d jumped into a rabbit hole, searching for the Mad Hatter, knowing full well it’d screw her over in the end. If she’d foreseen how much, would she do it again? Blowing out a dramatic breath, Claire dropped her chin on an open palm. “Yeah, probably.”

Still, she’d been too damned stupid. She dove deep into that rabbit hole. Let her guard down. She’d let a hot angel kiss her silly.

Kiss her.

Touch her.

Lick her.

Dammit! She’d all but opened the door to chaos and invited it in! And now, her emotions were twisted out of control. Like a damned poltergeist in a horror movie, everything flew around inside by an unseen force. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Her stomach knotted. On those rare occasions she did sleep, Devin’s disappearance plagued her nightmares.

She needed information. Needed to know the plan. Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to call Marco or Elias. Every time she tried, her finger hovered over the screen, frozen in place. Hell, she’d never been this indecisive. She’d been fine until that damned angel entered her life. “Stop thinking about him!” Slamming her grenadine-based drink

down, she cursed again.

Why can’t I get him off my mind?

That’s why you’re here. Time to exorcise the emotional poltergeist.

Determination straightened Claire’s spine. Her watchful eyes again zeroed in on tonight’s target. Spears of red and purple light flickered across long brown hair and tanned skin, highlighting prominent cheekbones and a strong jaw. The hot undercover officer she met through a colleague now propped at the end of the bar should be sending her hormones into overdrive. Yet, she felt nothing. No tingles. No flutters. Nothing for

Dillon… Dillon… something. What the hell is his last name?

For the life of her, she couldn’t remember. She gave a mental shake. What did it matter? He was a means to an end. An attempt to erase the tornado of memories threatening to burst through a floodgate wall. Dillon Something’s purpose was a necessary evil. A routine distraction, plain and simple.