Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(16)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Tanner put his body in front of hers. “Isn’t there always?”

A hard laugh from the vamp. Then he said, “She bleeds for me, and I’ll talk.”

“Not gonna happen.” This time, Tanner was the one to drive a punch, one that rammed into the vampire’s chest. Marna heard the sickening crunch of bones.

The vamp spat out blood. “Kane. I’m Riley Kane. When you’re ready to deal . . .” His eyes found Marna’s over Tanner’s shoulder. “You come back here, and you ask for me.”

Voices rose. Shouts came from out in the bar.

The vamp shook his head and spared her another fast glance. “You called humans . . . to come and help in Hell? How do you really think this will go down?”

Sirens screamed.

Tanner swore. What? Why was he swearing then? He’d been the one to tell her to get help.

“Better run, cop.” Now the vamp was warning them. “Even humans can smell blood in the air.” Then Kane whirled and leapt through the shattered remains of the door.

Marna turned back toward the shouts. She had to find a way to help the humans. With all those supernaturals in there, it would be a nightmare for them.

A nightmare that they never expected to see.

“Don’t.” Tanner caught her arm and pulled her back toward the broken door—and the waiting night. “This place is enchanted. The humans won’t get inside the bar. The spell keeps them out.”

“But . . . the screams . . .”

“There’s always screaming in Hell.” They were outside now and moving so fast that Marna had to run to keep up with him. “And the EMTs who are on night-shift duty, trust me, baby, they understand more than you think. Half of them are paranormals. They’ll find the body, and the right people will know how to handle her.” His eyes glittered in the darkness. “I’m not the only paranormal on the force. Not even close.”

They’d circled back to the parking lot just a few blocks away. They jumped in his vehicle and raced from the scene, even as the ambulance roared toward Hell.

They passed the ambulance, and the glowing circle of lights lit up Tanner’s SUV.

Then . . .

Silence.

The miles flew past. Marna’s heart began to slow to a normal rate, but when she looked down, she realized she had blood on her hands. She swallowed and fisted her fingers. “I-I wish we could have saved her.”

Tanner didn’t speak.

“It was all for nothing.” Anger burned in her. Anger, fear, guilt—why couldn’t she have done something?

For so long, she’d been the one to greet humans and supernaturals at their moment of passing. She’d never been able to help any of those souls. Her job had been to kill. To take them from this world.

Why couldn’t she just save one person?

“It wasn’t for nothing.” Cold. Hard.

Marna peered his way.

“She died right before she could talk to us, and believe me, coincidences like that don’t happen.”

“But—”

“She died, and she was terrified of the angel who came for her.” He spared her a fast glance. “What does that tell you?”

She licked her lips. “Everyone . . . I mean, most are scared when they see the angels coming for them.” Because humans and those without the blood of celestial beings in them could never see angels, at least not until the moment right before their passing. And who wouldn’t be scared then?

“Maybe . . . or maybe she was so scared because she knew what her killer was.”

Her breath caught, but Marna shook her head. “No, an angel of death wouldn’t kill that way.” The attack had been too violent. Too . . . bloody. “All death angels have to do is touch. There’s no reason to attack like that unless—”

“Unless you like the feel of slicing into someone’s flesh. Unless you want to torture and punish until your victim is left twitching on the ground.”

Like the bartender.

“Unless you’re one f**ked-up angel, and if that’s the case, if there’s another Fallen in the city, one who’s slicing and killing for fun, then, well . . .”

Tanner didn’t finish. But he didn’t have to. She understood.

If a Fallen was going on a killing spree in New Orleans, then the humans and the supernaturals were all about to face a waking nightmare.

Streaks of blood slid across the sky as the sun rose. Tanner strode toward his bedroom. He hadn’t fixed the broken door downstairs, not yet, but he’d cleared away the bedroom door he’d shattered.

Dawn was coming. He’d showered, changed, and, dammit, he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

He stood in the doorway, and her scent tried to pull him in. He could hear the light rustle of the sheets. Tanner knew that she was just steps away.

Want.

The panther’s growl had him taking another step closer.

“Stay away from me, Tanner.”

Marna’s words made his hands clench into fists.

“Pretend the door’s there,” she said, voice drifting to him. “And just walk away.”

Screw that. He walked into the room. Tanner heard her gasp.

“I told you to—”

“We have to talk.” She was in his bed. The covers were pulled up to her chin—always so afraid of me—and her hair was a tangled fall around her face.

“Later.” Marna swallowed and lifted her chin higher. Of course, she lifted the covers higher, too. “I want to be alone now. I don’t want—”

You.

In two seconds, he was on that bed with her. Marna tried to scramble back. Too late. He grabbed her hand and forced it against his bare chest.

Her breath rasped out, and she tried to jerk away from him. “Stop it!”

“Make me.” A cruel taunt, but he had to see what would happen.

Marna’s blue eyes widened as she tried to yank her hand away again. He just tightened his hold. Her palm was soft against his chest. Her splayed fingers pressed right over his racing heart.

“Let me go!”

The covers had dropped. She had on a black bra—one he’d raced out and bought for her before they’d gone to Hell. He’d picked up clothes for her, fantasized a bit about her in the silk panties, and—

Her left fist plowed into his face.

He shook his head, barely feeling the sting of that blow, as realization settled heavily in his gut. “You can’t do it.”

No wonder the vampire had been so close to her.