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PROLOGUE

He’d been created for one purpose—death He was not there to cohten

Keenan’s only job was to bring death to those unlucky enough to know his touch

And on the cold, windy New Orleans night, his latest victih atop the St Louis Cathedral Mortal eyes wouldn’t find hi to leave the earthly realli those few huh the nearby square

No, he worried about nothing No one He never had He simply touched and he killed and he waited for his next victim

The wo, black hair, and skin a pale crea it away from her face as she hurried down the stone steps of the cathedral The doors had been locked She hadn’t made it inside No chance to pray

Pity

He slipped to the side of the cathedral, still watching her as she edged down the narrow alleyway Pirate’s Alley He’d taken others from this place before The path seemed to scream with the memories of the past

“No!”

That wasn’t the past screas beat at the air around him It was her

Nicole St Jae twenty-nine A woman who tutored children on the weekends A woht …

A woht

His eyes narrowed as he leapt froo in closer

Nicole’s attacker had her against the wall One of the man’s hands was over her ain His other hand slaainst the cold stone wall

She was fighting harder than Keenan had really expected Struggling Kicking

Her attacker just laughed

And Keenan watched—as he’d alatched So many years …

Tears streamed down Nicole’s cheeks

Theher leaned in and licked them away

Keenan’s gut clenched Knowing that her time was at hand, he’d watched Nicole for a feeeks now He’d slipped into her classroom and listened to the soft drawl of her voice He’d watched as her lips curled into a sht cheek

He’d seen laughter in her eyes Seen longing Seen … life

Now her green eyes were filled with the stark, wild terror that only the helpless can truly know

He didn’t like that look in her eyes His hands clenched

Don’t look if you don’t like it His gaze pulled away from her face The job wasn’t about what he liked It never had been

There’d never been a choice

They have the choices I only have orders to follow

That ay it had always been So why did it bother him, now? Because it was her? Because he’d watched too much? Slipped beside her too often?

Temptation

“This is gonna hurt …”