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

Because of those witnesses, everyone in the station knew about her. An APB had been put out instantly, and Tanner had known that he had to act. He hadn’t been willing to trust anyone else to bring her in.

Hell, Marna might have just decided to kill anyone else who’d gone after her.

He’d had to move, fast, and get her under his control.

Her head turned, and her eyes met his. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, shifter.” Her voice was as low as his. The room was monitored, and knowing the guys in the station, Tanner had no doubt that other folks were in the next room, watching them through the two-way mirror that lined the left wall.

But while they could watch, those guys wouldn’t be able to hear anything that was said. Tanner had taken the liberty of disconnecting the audio system before going after Marna.

Yeah, he knew how to plan ahead. Some days.

“My brother and his ass**le packmates hurt you.” Hurt, such a tame word for the hell they’d put her through. His brother Brandt had cut the wings right from Marna’s back and left her to die in the dirt. Brandt’s packmates hadn’t done a thing to save her. They’d been too busy following Brandt like the fools they were. She’d suffered so much because of the events of that night.

Wanting a little payback, yeah, he could understand that, but . . . “Did you have to kill them in front of witnesses? I told you that I’d make sure they weren’t threats to you any longer.” Brandt was already dead, courtesy of a fallen angel named Azrael, the most powerful being that Tanner had ever seen. After their battle, there’d literally been nothing left of Brandt.

Nothing, except the remains of his pack.

So Marna had decided she wanted her vengeance, and she’d gone after them. But killing them so blatantly? Hell, didn’t the woman realize she had to be careful in a world full of humans? Murdering bastards had to be stopped, damn straight, but they didn’t have to be taken out by her hand.

He exhaled slowly and kept his body between her and that two-way mirror. He could be her shield, or try to be anyway. “My boss wants you locked up.” He jerked a hand through his hair. “And what do you think will happen to you in jail?”

She smiled then, and the sight iced his blood. “Nothing.”

Right. His back teeth clenched. What did she have to be afraid of? It was the poor ass**les who’d be locked up with her—they were the ones who needed to fear.

Someone like her could never see the inside of a jail. He had to make sure things didn’t go any farther.

But with those witnesses and the story already spreading to the media, he didn’t have a whole lot of options.

Except . . .

“You made this too public. Shit, Marna, you’re backing me against the wall here.” He was supposed to uphold the law, but he wasn’t human. Far from it. He knew the score.

Supernaturals can’t always follow the rules. Jails sure as shit couldn’t hold the most powerful threats out there.

He had to get the rest of the cops off his back. Off her.

“I didn’t do anything.” Her voice was still soft, but more anger cracked through the words. “I don’t know who your witnesses think they saw, but it wasn’t me.”

At her words, he blinked, stunned.

Tanner remembered the very first lesson he’d learned about her kind. Angels can’t lie.

Even angels who’d fallen were still bound to tell the truth. Sure, they could twist facts to suit them—they were real good at twisting—but they couldn’t tell a straight-out lie.

He caught her shoulders and pulled her even closer to him. Her hands were still bound behind her back, and her chin notched up as she faced him.

“Two members of Brandt’s pack are dead. Their bodies were found in an alley, without so much as a scratch on them.” No scratches, but there’d been plenty of terror to see on the frozen faces of Michael LaRue and Beau Stokes.

While there might be plenty of paranormals lurking in the shadows of New Orleans, there weren’t very many who could kill with a touch.

Even fewer who looked like her.

He thought her face paled as she stared at him, but Marna told him flatly, “I swear to you, it wasn’t me.”

Then someone sure wanted him to think it had been.

Footsteps tapped outside. Jonathan, hurrying back. Tanner leaned forward and unlocked her cuffs. Her breath sighed out as her hands were freed. “Thank you.” The words whispered from her.

Her scent, fresh flowers, teased his nose. “Don’t be thanking me yet.” Because they weren’t even close to being out of this mess.

But he owed her, and he couldn’t just leave her to twist in the wind.

Innocent or not.

“Trust me.” That was all he had time to say. The door swung open, and Jonathan came sauntering back in, with two cups of coffee cradled in the elbow of one arm.

Marna didn’t respond to Tanner’s words, but that wasn’t particularly surprising. Trust? From her? Like that would happen any time soon. His angel wasn’t the trusting sort.

Since her fall, hell, he wasn’t even sure what she’d become.

Dangerous.

With a light touch on her shoulder, Tanner pushed her down into the wooden chair once more. They’d have to play the interrogation game, for a while.

“Here you go, ma’am,” Jonathan said as he slid a Styrofoam cup toward her. Marna didn’t take the drink. He shrugged and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Sipping his own drink, Jonathan reached for a manila file that had been waiting on the table. “You don’t look like the killing type.”

The ass**le hadn’t brought him any coffee. Jonathan offered him a smug smile, one that vanished as the human flipped open the file and stared back down at the crime scene photos. “I just don’t know how you did it.”

Marna glanced down at the photos. Because he was watching so closely, Tanner saw the faint widening of her eyes.

Surprise.

“No physical signs of attack. No internal injuries,” Jonathan rattled off the death details. “Their hearts simply . . . stopped.”

Marna shrugged. “Then maybe those men had heart attacks.”

Jonathan put his cup down on the table. “They were both in their prime, barely mid-thirties. Two guys like that, what? They just both magically had heart attacks? Is that what you want me to believe?”

“A lot of things magically happen in this city,” Marna murmured.

Tanner stalked around the table. Didn’t sit. Just crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the two-way mirror, and stared at her. She didn’t look nervous. No nervous twitches or gestures. Too calm. Too cool.