Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(48)
Author: Cynthia Eden

It wasn’t exactly like she enjoyed being a walking, talking blood bank. But somehow, the supernaturals knew that she wasn’t like the other angels of death. She couldn’t kill them with a touch, not like Sammael could. No one ever went after him looking for a blood donation. They were too smart for that move.

They knew that if they went after Sammael, he’d destroy them.

Why couldn’t she get a badass reputation like that?

Maybe because you aren’t badass. A whisper from her mind. But she was trying to be. She would be. Getting picked off and drained wasn’t an option for her. She wanted more. She’d fight for her life.

And for Tanner.

“Your blood’s addictive. Nothing should taste so sweet.”

Okay, now that was scary. No one had ever told her that an angel’s blood was sweet.

“Like candy and power. And you can’t let anyone have it again. If you do . . .” He exhaled on a rough sigh. “I’ll have to kill them.”

So, what, there was no in-between land? Just straight up go for the kill? Wasn’t the shifter missing a big point there? “You know, you could try saying thank you. In case you didn’t notice, my ‘candy and power’ blood saved your hide back there.” Then she rolled away from him, pulling the sheets with her and wrapping them around her body.

Oh, wait. Angel. Maybe she couldn’t kill, but she could still conjure clothes. She dropped the sheet, waved her hand and had jeans and a T-shirt back on in an instant. Then Marna headed for the door.

Before she could yank it open and continue what was really a rather nice stalking-out scene, Tanner’s hand slammed against the wood. His grip kept the door shut while caging her between the escape and his body. His naked body. If only shifters could conjure, too.

“Thank you.” He whispered the words against her ear and a shiver worked over her body.

“You’re . . . ah . . . welcome.”

His voice hadn’t been arrogant or cocky. Just soft. Sincere.

Slowly, carefully, Tanner turned her to face him. “Power is addictive.”

So she’d always been told.

“My father . . . that bastard wanted to take as much power as he could get. He didn’t care who he hurt. He took and he took until nothing was left.”

Marna didn’t speak.

“That’s what he did to my mother.” He exhaled heavily and moved away from her. She watched in silence as he found his jeans, jerked them on, then paced to the small window that overlooked the swamp. “She was just part of his collection.”

“Collection?” She didn’t understand. People weren’t collections. They were . . . people.

His shoulders tensed. “He wanted to create the perfect son. One who’d be near indestructible, all powerful, and able to rule for as far as that dead old bastard could see.”

Marna wanted to go to him because she could hear the thread of pain in his voice, but she didn’t move.

“You already know about Brandt.”

Like she could forget the shifter who’d sliced her and left her screaming in pain. Tanner’s brother Brandt had been a dangerous hybrid. Half shifter, half angel.

“Brandt’s mother was a guardian, and some dumbass upstairs gave her the job of watching after my father.”

Many of her kind thought the guardians were the lucky ones. They never had to ferry souls. Just watch. Protect.

But guardians were the ones most likely to choose falling. They were so close to humans, day in and day out. Proximity led to temptation. That temptation had been too much for many.

Like Brandt’s mom.

“He got her pregnant because he thought a child with an angel’s strength would be his perfect weapon. But after he had Brandt, he didn’t need her anymore.”

She already knew how this story ended. “He killed her.”

“Just like he killed my mom. Only . . .” His hand lifted, pressed against the pane of glass, then clenched into a fist. “He killed my mom because she was ‘a disappointment,’ ” he said, his voice deepening to a growl. “ ‘A waste of time.’ Those were his f**king words to me when I found her body. He kept her around longer than he did Brandt’s mother, but after a while, he said her powers were useless to him. That meant she was useless.”

An ache lodged in her chest. “Humans don’t have powers.”

Tanner glanced back at her. “Some do. My mom, Katherine, she was . . . special.”

Special. Psychic. Yes, she’d seen a handful of humans with those gifts. The other angels had said those mortals were touched. Favored.

To her, it had seemed as if they were cursed.

“My father destroyed things. My mother saved them. She was always trying to help everyone. Trying to save those jerks in the pack when they got injured. When they were hurt, she’d use her power, and she’d heal them. She could heal, just by touching someone. That was her special gift.” His lips tightened. “She never should have been with him. She was just part of his collection.”

A collection of women designed to create super children? Marna shook her head, still not fully understanding, then realized he couldn’t see the movement. “I thought it was supposed to be hard for shifters to have children.” Otherwise, the world would be overrun with them because their genetics made them far superior to average mortals. Survival of the fittest would kick into overdrive, and the human population would be nearly erased.

His hand slowly unclenched. “Some women are . . . better matches than others.”

Mates. Not some heart link, no matter what tales she’d heard whispered over the centuries. For shifters, mating was a biological link. The beasts recognized the women who would be compatible enough to create offspring with them.

Tanner turned to face her. “Trust me, there were plenty of women who couldn’t conceive. He got rid of them fast enough.”

Marna flinched. Evil. There was no other word for Tanner’s father. She’d seen some beings like him in her time. No good inside. Hollow. Rancid. Rotting with their greed and dark fury.

“Three women were matches for him,” Tanner said. “An angel. A psychic. And a demon.”

Marna stepped toward him. She wanted to touch him. To offer comfort in some way because he seemed to be in pain. Not physically, but . . .

I can still feel his pain.

“Then once my father had his hybrids, he set to work making sure we wouldn’t be a damn bit like our mothers. He wanted any power boost his kids could get from such different mothers, but when it came to actions, hell, he only wanted us to be just like him.”