Avenging Angel (29 page)

He kissed her when he thrust inside. Kissed her and loved the tight, slick feel of her sex around him. He drove into her, deep and steady, then withdrew. Again and again.

Then his thrusts became faster.

His control started to fracture. Marna could always break his control.

Her legs locked around his hips. Her tongue slipped over his lips.

His thrusts became harder.

Her hips arched against him, eager, and he pushed into her.

Deeper. Harder.

His mouth tore from hers, and he kissed his way down her neck. Down, on down, as she called out his name. When he came to that sweet spot where neck met shoulder, he licked her skin.

Panthers claimed their mates with a mark on this spot. He’d bitten her once, but this time—this time he knew what he was doing.

His teeth scored her flesh. Her body stiffened beneath him, and, fuck, yes, she came around his cock.

Tanner exploded inside of her as his control shattered. He didn’t whisper her name. He roared it.

And he held on to her, thrusting deep as he climaxed into her body. The end hadn’t come for them. This . . . this was their beginning.

His heart drummed wildly in his ears. So fast. But he wasn’t sated. Not close. He wanted her again and again, and he’d have her.

But for now, he lifted his body off hers. He stared down into her eyes, and told her, “I love you.”

More than life. More than enough to beat death.

She gave him a smile, one sweet and sexy at the same time, and she rolled away from him.

That was when his heart stopped. Her hair slid off her back and revealed the scars that crossed her shoulders.

But they weren’t scars any longer.

When they’d made love before, back at that cabin in the swamp, the scars had felt rougher beneath his fingertips. Hell yes, he’d noticed that, but he hadn’t thought much of it. He’d been too busy catching a killer. He’d forgotten the scars.

Until now.

Carefully, his fingers touched what
should
have been red scars. She gasped beneath his touch. The sound was filled with pleasure, not pain.

But her wings had been cut away. She’d lost them. Become trapped on earth with him.

She couldn’t go back to heaven because she didn’t have her wings.

His fingers slid gently over her back.

Only he was touching silken wings that were growing from her shoulders. Her wings might have been cut away, but they were
growing back.

If her wings were coming back, then that meant she’d be going back to heaven. Angels didn’t stay on earth. Only the Fallen did, and Marna had never truly fallen.

It was time for her to go back home.

W
hen Marna woke, it was dark. No sunlight streamed through the windows anymore, and the room was lit only by the faint glow from the stars and the moon.

She was in Tanner’s bed, with his arms around her. They’d made love twice—three times?—that day. She’d fallen asleep with his name on her lips and now she’d just awoken to—

The feel of his lips on her back. Pressing lightly against the blade of her left shoulder. The spot where her wings had once been. The touch of his mouth against that sensitive flesh had her whole body tensing. Her nipples were hard. Her legs restless. Just that touch . . .

Because the touch of his mouth sent pleasure streaking through her. Stronger than before. He’d kissed the scars another time, but it hadn’t been like this.

Her breath heaved out. Marna didn’t move. She wanted him to keep kissing her. Her sex was wet, her body tight.

He licked her flesh. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
So good.
It had hurt so badly when she lost her wings, but this . . .
pleasure.

Tanner had taught her so much about pleasure.

His lips whispered over her again. “I’m gonna fucking miss you.”

He was going to—wait, what? Marna stiffened and tried to turn and face him, but he held her still in a grip far too strong. Shifter strong.

“When you go back, remember me, okay?”

She wasn’t going anyplace.

“Should have known I couldn’t keep you with me. Too good for me . . .” His breath rasped against her skin. His fingers skimmed over her flesh, and she shivered.
“Remember me.”

“I could never forget you.” What was he even talking about? “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes.” Sad. “You are.”

Another kiss on her flesh. Another caress that sent a shudder of pleasure through her. Then he said, “Your wings are growing back.”

Her world seemed to stop. No, maybe that was just her heart. “That’s not funny, Tanner.” The shifter should know better than to joke about something like that. Angry—no, furious—she ripped away from him and rolled from the bed. “I
lost
my wings. They won’t ever grow back. They—”

“Would you go back to heaven, if you had the chance?” His face was tense, but his eyes were blank, showing no emotion.

Go back to heaven? Marna hesitated.
No fear. No pain.

“Right.” Tanner climbed from the bed. Jerked on his jeans. Turned so that she could only see his back and the scars that crisscrossed his flesh in a painful reminder of all that he’d suffered.

“Angels don’t lie.” He said the words without looking at her. “Shifters, though, we were born to deceive. Born to be beasts who hide beneath the guise of men.” His shoulders were strong and straight. “But I never lied to you.”

No, he hadn’t. From the very beginning, he’d always told her the truth. Always been there, trying to help her.

Was it any wonder she loved him?
Love.
She finally knew what the humans talked about. No wonder it made them crazy. It was wonderful. Consuming. Addictive.

Terrifying.

“I’m not lying to you now.” Tanner still wasn’t looking at her. “Your wings are back. They’re growing slowly, but they
are
growing. Small, silken, pure white and—”

And she was across the room in an instant. Marna grabbed his arms and yanked him around to face her. “Angels of death don’t have white wings.” Their wings were touched by the darkness and despair of their work, so death angels and punishment angels always had black wings.

He blinked at her. “But I saw them. You’re growing white wings.”

Marna whirled away from him and raced for the bathroom. She flipped on the light and twisted as she strained to see her body in the mirror.
He has to be wrong. He has to be wrong. He has to—

But she had wings growing from her back. White wings. Her hands gripped the marble countertop so tightly she almost ripped it from the wall. “How?”

Tanner had followed her. He stared at her with eyes that seemed so empty. Cold. Not like Tanner. Not like him at all.

“Wings don’t grow back.” She shook her head. The words tumbled from her as she said, “Not after a fall. All the angels know—”

“You didn’t fall.” Said simply. Sadly. “A shifter tried to force you to earth. He hurt you. But now, you’re healing.”

Healing.
The breath in her lungs seemed to burn. Her gaze lifted and locked on his. “You did this.”

Tanner shook his head.

She grabbed his hands. She was still naked. So what? He’d seen her naked plenty of times and would do so again. “
You
did this,” she said again as the puzzle pieces slipped into place. When her scars had been itching, she’d been healing. Because
he’d
healed her. “When you brought me back . . .” Maybe even when he’d kissed her scars that first time? Was it possible?
It must be.
“You healed my wounds.” All of them. He’d given her his power, and he’d healed the flesh that had been clawed open—and the wings that had been savaged.

He’d given an angel back her wings
.

Marna laughed and threw her arms around Tanner.

But he didn’t hug her back. Didn’t so much as move. A chill skated down her spine. “Tanner?” She pulled back to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

His smile was bittersweet. “I’ll miss you.”

But she wasn’t—

A wind swept through the house, ripping through the bedroom and rushing into the bathroom. The wind grabbed at Marna and pulled at her body. She waved her hands as she conjured clothes and tried to fight the force of the wind.

It was pulling her away from Tanner.

The wind felt like hands on her skin. Not rough. But steady, strong.

Tanner watched her. The wind tossed his hair, but didn’t move him.

Then Marna was back in the bedroom. The big window was wide open, letting in that rush of wind, and the angel that came in with wings of white.

Marna recognized the angel instantly. How could she not know her? Carmella—with her light brown skin and jet-black hair that trailed down her back—was the leader of the guardian angels. She’d been protecting mortals for as long as death angels like Sammael and Bastion had been taking their souls.

“It’s time to come home with me,” Carmella told her, the angel’s voice soft, almost sweet. She lifted her hand. “We’ve been hoping you would join us.”

Marna shook her head. “I’m . . . not a guardian.”

“You are now.” Carmella’s gaze drifted over Marna’s shoulder. To Tanner. “Your fate changed.”

And she understood.
He’d
changed her fate. An angel’s wings weren’t supposed to grow back, but Tanner . . . he wasn’t just a shifter.

She turned away from Carmella and walked to stand right in front of Tanner. She could feel the small growth of wings now. Not itching so much anymore, not since the wings had broken through the skin. “You really did this.” With that light of his. When he’d healed her other wounds, he’d given her back her wings, too.

But it was Carmella who spoke. “Your wings didn’t burn away, Marna,” the guardian told her. Carmella’s voice was so easy and gentle, but without any emotion. “The burn is forever, but your injuries . . . even if your shifter hadn’t sped up the healing process, your wings would have returned to you eventually.”

Your shifter.
“But would they have been black?” And would she have gone back to taking souls?

“You
earned
the title of guardian,” Carmella told her. “Because of what you did here on earth. You guarded those closest to you.”

Marna stared into Tanner’s eyes, and realized, too late, the words that Sammael had spoken hadn’t been for Tanner. They’d been for her.

He’d known that the Death Touch hadn’t come back to her because she wasn’t a death angel any longer.

She’d always wanted this. To be close to the humans. To be able to see them while they were happy,
alive,
and not on the brink of death. But . . .

But she wanted more now. Not just to see emotion. She reached for Tanner’s hand. He was staring down at her, but his gaze was blank.

“It’s time for us to go,” Carmella said.

“Just like that?” Marna whispered. After all the months she’d been down here,
now
the angel appeared to whisk her away? “Why didn’t you come sooner?” Marna didn’t look away from Tanner. He’d been there the whole time. He’d been the one guarding her.

“Because the battle wasn’t mine to fight.” Carmella’s sweet voice was starting to annoy her. It was that whole lack of emotion. Would a little bit of passion really kill an angel? “It was yours, and the end result—that result determined your fate.”

Her fate? Marna’s chest had begun to feel hollow. “I was supposed to die.”

“Or become a guardian.”

Why wasn’t Tanner talking?
“Say something,”
she gritted, angry. “Talk to me!”

His eyelids flickered. “I’ll miss you.” Growled. He’d said that before. Each time he said those words, she felt as if he was ripping into her soul.

And, what? That was all he had to tell her? He’d
miss
her? How about . . .
“Baby, don’t go. My heart will be torn out if you leave me”?
Couldn’t he just growl those words instead?

Because if she left him, that’s how she’d feel. The wings didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but being with him.

Well, he could stand there, look all stoic and strong, and act like this was the big dramatic end for them, but she wasn’t playing that game. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Now
that
got his attention. His eyes widened and suddenly, his hands were gripping hers hard enough to bruise. Good thing she wasn’t human. He might have just accidentally snapped some of her bones if she had been.

“You’d choose me?” He shook his head. Looked stunned and thrilled and hopeful all at once. “But . . . with your wings, you can have everything you ever wanted. You can have your life back.”

“I don’t want that life back.” It had been so cold and empty. And she didn’t want to be a guardian—just watching life pass. She wanted to keep living and loving. “I want what I have with you.” Didn’t he understand? “Tanner, I meant what I said. I love you.”

Love. Not just a human emotion. Shifters loved. Vampires loved.

So did angels.

Now only hope lit his face. His lips curved in a smile that took her breath.

“I’m sorry, Marna,” Carmella said, voice still soft. “But that isn’t how this works.”

In a blink, Marna found herself across the room and at the angel’s side. Tanner stared at them in confusion for an instant; then he lunged toward them.
“Marna!”

Wind ripped through the room and tossed him back against the wall. The same wind seemed to grab Marna and lift her up. Up and toward the open window.

“Marna!”
Tanner was fighting against the wind, roaring his fury and slashing out with his growing claws as he tried to reach her.

And Marna fought. She kicked and clawed with her own hands against the unseen force that lifted her higher and higher. She didn’t want to leave. She belonged on earth, with Tanner. This was her life. She wouldn’t go back to that cold, emotionless existence. Not now.

The wind beat faster. Tanner was fading from sight. She was losing him, and the last thing she heard him say was,
“Stay with me! I love you, Marna. Stay. With. Me!”

But fate had other plans. Fate ripped her away and lifted her so high that she couldn’t even hear his roar anymore.

 

The wind died away, slowly freeing him from its unbreakable grip. Tanner hit the floor when the last of that powerful blast faded, but he was on his feet a mere second later. He raced for the window. His claws sliced into the wall.
“Marna!”

She wasn’t outside. Not on the ground. Not above him where the angel had been.

She was just . . . gone.

The beast inside was snarling with fury. Wild and desperate, he seemed to be clawing Tanner apart from the inside out.

Marna hadn’t wanted to leave him.
I love you.
Her words echoed in his head. She’d been so beautiful when she said them. Eyes clear. Face lit with happiness. She’d been choosing
him.

And then she’d been taken away.

He leapt through that window and landed on the ground. His bones were already popping and snapping. The panther wasn’t being held back on a leash this time. He was free, and he was pissed.

As pissed as the man.

No one took his mate. Marna had been afraid. She’d been fighting.

And he’d kill to get her back.

His feet raced over the earth. He had Marna’s scent. He’d track her, find her, fucking break down the door to heaven if he had to, but he was getting her back.

Heaven couldn’t take her, and if the angels thought they were finished with him, then they’d better think again.

The panther threw back his head and screamed his fury to the night.

 

Heaven was as perfect as the humans thought. The floors were lined with gold. The walls made of heavy, white marble. Everything was clean and glistening. No darkness. No evil.

The world below was full of that darkness. So much evil and hate.

“Why would you even want to go back?” Carmella asked, but her voice held no curiosity. Why would it?

“Because I love him.” So simple. Why couldn’t Carmella see that? Marna turned away from her and marched toward the elaborate doors that sealed the room. Those were made of gold, too. Heavy gold that wouldn’t move beneath her touch.