Avenging Angel (18 page)

But Bastion just stood there, face cold and hard and stoic, with his wings pulled low near his body. “Your shifter’s time is up. His body’s dying.”

She shook her head, frantic. He couldn’t leave her yet.

“Didn’t you see what he did?” Bastion took a step closer.

Cody kept working on his brother’s chest. Swearing and muttering, apparently oblivious to the angel who waited just steps away. An angel who, unlike her, could truly kill with a touch.

“He protected me,” Marna said, lifting her chin. He was always protecting her.

Cody glanced up at her, brows pulling together. “Yeah, that’s just great. My brother’s a hero, but right now we need to—”

“You can’t take him!”
Now she sounded desperate, like others before her—so many others over the centuries. She’d never understood their rage and helplessness.

She did now.

Cody blinked. Then his eyes widened, and he followed her gaze over his shoulder. “One of ’em . . . one of the angels is here?”

She barely nodded. “Work faster,” she whispered to him. Could Cody really not see the angel? He wasn’t a pureblood demon, so maybe he couldn’t see Bastion.

Bastion’s lips tightened. “There is no delaying, no deals, no borrowing. There is only death. You know this.”

His eyes were too bright. His words too strong. He seemed satisfied. Almost eager. Did Bastion
want
to take Tanner’s soul?

“Come on, Tanner,
fight.
Shift again for me.” Cody’s desperate voice.

Because a shift would give Tanner strength. That was the way it worked for the shifters. That was how they got their power. Their strength came from the beast.

She’d already seen just how strong and dangerous Tanner’s beast could be.

Bastion sighed softly. His wings moved with a faint rustle of sound. “He’s too weak to shift. He’ll die soon, and I’ll take him.”

And she’d be alone again. Marna glanced back down at Tanner. She held him cradled in her arms. So big. So powerful. So . . . still.

“What can I do?” Her own voice came out sounding broken.

“Nothing,” was Bastion’s answer.

But Cody, his hands bloody and still pushing against Tanner’s chest to apply pressure to the terrible wound, looked up at her. “What
would
you do?”

To save him? “Anything.”

Bastion lunged at her. He caught her chin in his hand and made her look up at him. “He’s a killer.”

He was also the only man who’d ever made her feel like she was more than an instrument of death.

Cody grabbed the knife blade that had been in Tanner’s chest. He wiped off the weapon on his pants, smearing red. “Bleed for him.”

Marna jerked her chin from Bastion’s hold and looked at Cody. “What?”

He reached for her wrist. Did he realize how close he was to touching Bastion? No, you never knew the danger of a death angel. Not until it was too late.

“There’s nothing more powerful than angel blood. It has magic in it. So much magic.” He licked his lips and gripped the knife blade with a tight fist. “I’ve seen it even bring a woman back from the dead.”

Her heart slammed into her chest. Could it be possible?

“No.”
Bastion’s order. “I won’t allow you to—”

He’d been her friend once. Her confidant. But now . . . “Sorry, Bastion, but I don’t take orders from you anymore.”

“We had to do a transfusion on her, she was human.” Cody was talking fast. Rushing out his words in a jumble. “But Tanner . . . he can just drink the blood. The panther drinks blood and it gives him power.”

Okay, the drinking blood part definitely had her stomach clenching, but she’d done that bit with the vampire. She could do it for Tanner.

No, she
would
do it for Tanner. “Cut me,” she told Cody.

But a blast of powerful wind slammed into the demon and tossed him a good ten feet. The knife fell from his fingers.

“This isn’t the way—” Bastion began.

“Screw the way,” Marna snapped back at him and dove for the knife. She grabbed it, sliced open her lower arm, and forced the blood to Tanner’s lips.

“Wh-what?” Bastion’s stunned voice. “You can’t do this!”

Tanner tried to turn away from her. “N-no, won’t . . . take—”

“You’ll take everything I want to give.” Her voice hardened. “And you will live.” She didn’t want to stare down at his chest. She’d glimpsed the twisted mess before, and she wouldn’t look again.

“Make him take it!” Cody yelled.

She was. Tanner’s mouth slowly opened beneath the pressure of her hand. She felt the lick of his tongue on her flesh.

Don’t think about what he’s doing.
She’d forced herself not to feel, not to move, when Riley had fed from her. She could do the same now.

Only . . .

Tanner’s mouth felt different. His eyes opened as he took her blood and his gaze seemed to burn right through her. She could actually see him getting stronger with every second that passed.

It was working. Cody had been right. Tanner would survive. This was all he needed. He’d—

Bastion grabbed her and yanked her back. His hold was fierce, punishing.

Painful. But Bastion had never hurt her before. He’d—

“You dare to give your blood to him? To try and save
him?
” Disgust tightened his tone. He lifted her up as his hands clenched around her upper arms with bruising strength. “First you fuck him, and now you feed him?”

Horror filling her, Marna tried to break free, but there was no give in his arms. He shook her, and her head snapped back.

“You let him
touch
you—”

“She did a lot more than that.” Tanner’s voice. Only it wasn’t weak or trembling. Strong. Determined. Furious.

He was back.

Bastion’s eyes widened, and he glanced to the left just in time to get a hard punch to the face. Bones crunched, and Bastion fell back, freeing her.

Tanner reached for her instantly. His chest was still bloody. The flesh and muscles were torn, but he was on his feet—naked, muscled—and lines of fury marked his face. Fury that was directed at Bastion.

Tanner’s fingers slid over Marna’s arms and rubbed lightly over the marks that Bastion had left on her.

And Bastion—he was raising his hand to his nose and touching the blood that dripped down his face. “Wh-what—”

“What you’re feeling?” Tanner said, and a growl built in his throat. “That’s pain. Better get used to it. ’Cause there’s a whole lot more coming.”

Bastion’s hand dropped. Clenched into a fist. His wings spread out behind him. “You aren’t the first to teach me of pain.”

Tanner’s claws flashed out. “I can see you now, bastard.”

And how could he?

Tanner lifted his claws. Pointed right at Bastion. “If you don’t haul your winged ass out of here, I’ll be the
last
one to teach you.”

Angels didn’t fear much in the mortal world. Why should they? Weapons forged from mortal men couldn’t kill an angel. But a shifter’s claws weren’t a mortal weapon.

Claws like Tanner’s had taken her wings away. Those same claws could easily kill Bastion.

“This isn’t over.” Bastion’s vow. His gaze wasn’t on Tanner, but on Marna. “Not even close.” Then his wings swept back, and he flew high up into the air.

Marna spun back to Tanner. “How—”

“Nothing’s stronger than angel blood,” Cody said and winced as he hobbled toward them. “Hell, I could use some of it right now.” His wounds had started to close—enhanced demon healing—but he was still dripping blood.

“No. ”
Tanner’s instant snarl.

Cody held up his hands. “Easy there, bro. You need to rein in that beast.”

Tanner’s eyes were blazing. She’d never seen them so bright. “I . . . can’t.”

As he stepped closer to her, his face a heavy mask of fury and need, Marna realized that the danger wasn’t over.

 

Russell Marchand raced through the woods with his claws still out and his fangs bared.

That fuckin’ well hadn’t gone according to plan.

The pretty little police captain had told them that it would be an easy grab. A helpless angel. One lone shifter. They should have been able to take them out, no problem.

Then they could have cashed in on all that sweet angel blood. Drained her dry until nearly nothing was left and tossed the remains of her body to the highest bidder.

No one had said anything about the angel fighting back. Or about Tanner Chance getting so crazy when she was threatened.

Tanner.
The captain hadn’t told him they were going after
Tanner.

He remembered that guy. Back in the day, they’d run in the same pack together. Tanner had been wild. Always ready for the hunt. Now he was gonna act like some white knight?

Fuckin’ traitor.
That’s all Tanner was. He’d turned his back on the pack. Fought ’em all. Why?

Because one night they’d decided to have some fun with that demon half-brother of his. Even though he had panther blood, the demon couldn’t shift. So what good had he been to the pack?

Stripping off some of Cody’s flesh while he screamed had seemed like a good way to pass the night.

Then Tanner had found them. And gone
wild.
Just like he had tonight. Just like the guy’s old man used to do. Nothing like the fury of the panther. Nothing like it in the whole world. The panther would strike down everyone and everything in his path until that bloodlust was gone.

Russell glanced over his shoulder once more, just to make sure he wasn’t being hunted.

Fuckin’ bastard.

Well, he was done with this town. Done with the captain. She thought that she had him by the balls because she knew about all the bodies he had buried? Screw her. He wasn’t gonna be her attack dog anymore.

Not a damn dog.
He was a panther. He was strong. He was—

“Going somewhere?” the captain’s voice asked.

Russell froze. The captain sauntered from the trees, not a trace of blood on her. Her eyes were glassy, her smile too big.

But—“You were still back there . . .” Wait, no way could she run as fast as he could. Demons
couldn’t
run that fast.

The captain kept heading toward him. Nice and slow. He knew her, would recognize her anywhere. Hell, he’d fucked her enough times to recognize her body and yet—

Russell inhaled. His claws flashed out. In an instant, he lunged forward and shoved them deep into her chest.
“You aren’t her.”
Because whoever the hell this was . . . she didn’t smell like Jillian. Not like ashes and sex.

Her head slammed into his, and he stumbled back at the power of the blow as he yanked his claws free.

“Wrong move,” she whispered.

He kept his claws up. Claws were a shifter’s best weapon. Claws could take out anyone—or anything. Even those fuckin’ angels. “Who the hell are you?” Wearing Jillian’s face but . . .

Scents never lied.

Jillian’s features faded away, and Russell realized he was staring at Death.

“I’m the one who’s taking you to hell.”

Russell opened his mouth to scream, but it was too late. Death leapt forward and touched him.

He expected the end to come instantly. It was supposed to happen with a touch. Just a touch.

But he screamed in agony as his claws and hands were slashed away. Screamed and fought . . .

Death didn’t come instantly.

And soon he was begging—begging until his heart finally stopped.

H
e couldn’t stop the fury.

Tanner paced the close confines of the cabin, an out-of-season spot that he’d known would be empty. Just waiting for them to use as a shelter—and safe house.

Going back to his place in the city sure wasn’t an option. Not with every supernatural in the area jonesing for Marna’s blood.

Blood wasn’t supposed to taste sweet. Hers had. Hers had poured into his mouth, rich with so much power and magic. He’d felt the surge in his own body as he began to heal, as his torn heart mended—all from just a few drops of her blood.

No wonder the others were after her. If that was what a few drops could do, what would happen with more?

He turned and raked his claws across the wall, leaving deep impressions in the wood.

“The owners are sure going to be angry once they get back and see the . . . ah . . . new decorations you’ve made.” Marna’s voice. Marna’s scent. Too close. Driving him wild.

He didn’t turn to face her. “You should go back downstairs.” With Cody. Where it was safe. Where she wasn’t in danger of getting seriously fucked in the next five seconds.

“I wanted to check on you.”

Right. Because that was what she did. Because she was so
good
.

While he was the big, bad beast, too eager to gobble her up.

Maybe it was time she started to see him for what he really was, not just what he kept telling her he could be.
How many times have I lied to her?

He’d promised he wasn’t like his brother Brandt. Promised he wasn’t evil.

’Cause if you said something enough, wasn’t that supposed to make it true?

Not for him. Never for him.

Once she learned what he truly was like, then she wouldn’t sacrifice for him anymore. Wouldn’t offer up her blood and make him . . .
want so much more.

She’d held tight to him while they ran through the swamp. They’d found the truck Cody had hidden, hightailed it out of there, and managed to get to this old place under the growing darkness. Good thing he and his brother knew all the secrets of the swamp.

They knew the best places to hide and lick their wounds.

The floor creaked beneath her feet. She was coming toward him.
“Stop.”

The creaking paused.

Tanner glanced down at his chest. He’d always been a fast healer, but this—this was crazy. He’d been stabbed in the chest. That knife had
hit
his heart. Yet he was still standing.

Not just because of his panther, though, hell yeah, the beast had been what kept him going when that knife first plunged into him. A human would have died instantly. Good thing shifters had more fight in ’em than that.

The skin over his heart was red now, still mending. He was alive—
because of her.

So he figured he owed her a warning. “If you don’t get out of here, I’ll have you on that bed beneath me.” Or against the wall. Or on the floor. Wherever he could get her.

His cock shoved against the front of his jeans. Since he was used to Tanner shifting and hunting, Cody kept backup clothes for him in the truck. His brother had given him these faded jeans, but the denim did little to hide his arousal from her.

Not safe. Not normal. The lust he felt for her was raging out of control.

A woman like her needed control. Gentleness. Sweet promises in the dark.

He couldn’t give her anything but fire and fury right then.

The floor creaked, and his shoulders tensed. Another slow creak followed a few seconds later.

She wasn’t walking toward the door. His eyes closed. The panther roared inside of him.

She was coming to Tanner.

Then he felt the light feather of her lips on his bare back. Pressing against his old scars. Kissing him with such gentleness.

He was too far gone for that.
Too. Far.

Tanner spun around, lifted her up, and in two steps, he had her on the bed. “Told you. Warned you,” he growled, and his mouth took hers. A red haze of lust seemed to surround him. His tongue pushed into her mouth, driving deep, even as his hands caught hers and locked them together over her head.

He’d given her gentleness before. Maybe, later, she’d remember that.

His kiss grew rougher, harder, more demanding.

He locked his left hand around her wrists, and his right hand pushed between their bodies. He yanked up her shirt and pushed his hand under her bra. Her nipple was tight, pebble hard, and he had to taste it, too.

Tanner tore his mouth from hers. He unhooked her bra and threw it to the floor. Then he took her breast. Tanner sucked it deep into his mouth and scored her flesh with his teeth.

“Tanner!”
He liked it when she moaned his name. Liked it even more when she screamed it.

He’d make her scream.

He freed her hands and yanked down her jeans. She helped him, shoving away the denim and the delicate panties. Then her sex was open to him, pink, flushed, wet.

He pushed her legs apart, and he put his mouth on her. When she tried to buck against him, telling him she couldn’t take it—

Tanner just tightened his hold. His mouth pressed harder. He licked her. Sucked her clit.

And felt the tremble in her thighs. He kept licking. Sucking. He thrust his tongue inside of her—

She came with a scream.

He liked that. Would have more.

Tanner shoved down his jeans. He positioned his cock and drove balls-deep inside of her in one long thrust. The bed groaned. She gasped.

He withdrew.

Tanner thrust deep. Again. Again.

He caught her hands once more. Pushed them against the mattress. His claws dug into the bedding. Ripping and tearing it as he fucked her hard and long.

But...

It wasn’t enough. The pleasure waited just out of his reach. He needed
more.

“Tanner?” She licked her lips and looked up at him with wide eyes. With every heaving breath he took, he tasted her.

There was no taste like his angel.

And if anyone else ever thought they’d get a taste . . . he’d kill them. Every. Single. One.

The growl ripped from him. More beast than man because right then, the beast was taking his mate.

Tanner withdrew from Marna and rolled her over onto the bed. He lifted her up, positioning her just right so that he could push deep inside and—

“Stop.”

He froze.

Marna glanced over her shoulder at him, blond hair a curtain around her face. Her eyes . . .

Now she saw him for what he was.

“Slow down,” she told him. “I can’t . . .”

The panther clawed inside, but the man jerked him back on a chain. He sucked in a breath.

Then he saw her back. The scars. Heavy red lines that trailed over her shoulder blades. Her wings had been there, until a panther’s claws had cut them away. He could almost see the dark shadows of wings that had once been.

He looked down at the bed. His own claws had cut into the mattress. He hadn’t cut her—
never would—
but . . .

He hated his beast right then. She deserved so much more than he could give her.

His fingers brushed across the strange shadows of wings. A phantom image that couldn’t really be touched. Tanner pressed his mouth to the scar that sliced across her left shoulder-blade. She tensed beneath his mouth, then shuddered.

He stilled, afraid that he’d hurt her, but then he heard the moan that slipped from her lips.

Tanner pressed a kiss to the scar once more. Used his tongue to lick. Her hips arched back against him. “That feels . . .” Her whisper was the most sensual temptation he’d ever heard. “So good.”

An angel’s wings were rumored to be the most sensitive parts of their bodies. That was why the fall hurt them so much. Why losing her wings had nearly destroyed Marna. But if he could give her pleasure,
then I will.

His mouth feathered over her flesh. He was choking the panther back on his leash, and he wasn’t about to break her skin with his sharpened teeth. Tanner licked. Kissed. First one slashing scar, then the other.

Marna moaned and arched against him again as she rubbed her sweet ass against his cock. With one hand, he reached around and spread her legs wider. And he kept kissing her. She shivered against him and said the words that broke him: “Fuck me.”

Dirty words from such an innocent mouth.

He guided his cock to her sex. Already slick but swollen from her orgasm, her delicate muscles resisted his thrust at first.

But not when he licked her again. Again.

She opened for him, and he drove deep.

The leash began to break. His hands caught her hips. Held tight as he plunged into her. Marna tossed her hair—and shoved back against him. Not gentle. Not easy. Her movements were as demanding as his own.

Good. He wanted her as wild as he was.

Their desperate breaths and moans filled the air even as the scent of sex filled his nostrils. The bed shuddered beneath them. Harder. More.

He wanted to feel her release around his cock. Wanted to hear the scream of his name once more. Would hear it.

He slid in and out, in—

Her inner muscles clenched tightly around him, contracting and squeezing all along the length of his cock. She came, and, hell yes, she screamed his name.

The leash tore in two. He exploded within her and erupted on a wave of pleasure so intense that the world around him seemed to fade away, and there was only her—Marna.

Her soft, silken flesh.

Her tight, wet sex.

The pleasure she gave him. Nothing like it. Definitely worth a trip or two down to hell.

Worth everything.

He poured into her, held her as tightly as he could and knew that even death wouldn’t force him to let her go.

 

“I can see your wings.”

Marna forced her body to lift, and slowly turned to meet Tanner’s bright gaze. His words caused a pang in her heart, and she shook her head. “I don’t have wings anymore.” It seemed so cruel that he would say that now, after all that had happened between them.

If only she did have wings.

He was on his side, watching her as they lay on the bed. His hand reached around her and stroked lightly from the scar on her right shoulder up into the air just a few inches above her skin.

As before, his touch sent a bolt of pure pleasure arching through her.
So sensitive.
She could almost feel his touch on the wings that weren’t there.

“I see them. Like shadows, rising lightly from your back.” His voice was a deep rumble of sound. He stroked her for an instant longer, and her whole body tightened at the caress.

But then his hand fell away. His gaze came back to hers. “You shouldn’t have given me your blood.”

Her throat was dry. Probably from all the screaming and panting and moaning. How was she supposed to face Cody again? He would’ve heard everything.

Shame was a new emotion for her, too.

But she didn’t feel
that
shameful. Actually, she couldn’t wait to scream again.

“Marna.”

Oh, right. He was talking about her blood. “It seems like everyone else wants my blood.” Everyone but him. “Everywhere we turn, people are hunting us.” Not
us,
really, more her. And she’d dragged him into her battles.

“No one else gets so much as a drop.” His gaze held hers with its stark intensity. “No vamps. No demons. No one.”

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.