Avenging Angel (9 page)

It was chemical. Physical. The panther scenting a female that could be a genetic match for him. A female strong enough to carry his offspring.

An angel and a shifter? Insane. The last blend like that had ended up producing his fucked-up brother Brandt.

But . . .

He wanted Marna. He ached for her. He dreamed of her at night.

He hungered for her.

If he took her, the panther would claim her as a mate. Then there’d be no turning back, not for either of them.

He reached the shed he’d built in the middle of his property and found the backup clothes he kept when he needed to run. He yanked up the jeans and jerked on the shirt, covering his scars.

She’d actually kissed a scar on his back. He’d carried the wounds for so long. He didn’t think about them much anymore.

His father had been a sadistic bastard.

Tanner left the shed. He’d taken just a few steps when the scent hit him. Then he realized just what a fatal mistake he’d made.

No, no
. He broke into a run as he raced back for the main house.

There was no mistaking the scent in the air—male, human,
familiar.
This was the last thing he needed. With Marna alone there . . .

Fucking disastrous.

His legs burned as he raced faster, faster—

He could see the house.

And he could see the human who was climbing into his broken window.

“Jonathan!” His voice rang out, sending birds scattering from the nearby trees.

His partner froze, then glanced slowly back over his shoulder. Jonathan’s eyes were narrowed, and he had his gun in his hand.

Tanner hoped the guy didn’t get trigger happy again this time. Tanner lifted his hands, showing he was unarmed. “Easy there, partner.”

Jonathan lowered his weapon. “You’ve had a break-in.”

No. A breakout. The guy should have noticed that the glass had fallen the wrong way. Shoddy investigative work. “No.” Tanner offered him a slightly embarrassed grin. “Just a little accident.” He hoped the man hadn’t called for backup. Talk about having to deal with a pain in his ass.

“Your front door . . . it looked damaged, too.” Jonathan had lowered the gun, but he hadn’t holstered the weapon. Interesting. “That’s why I came around back.”

Tanner shrugged. “I’m doing some home repairs.” He put his hands on his hips. “Sometimes, they don’t go as well as I’d like.” He couldn’t hear anything from inside the house. Good. As long as Marna stayed quiet, they were golden.

But if his angel decided to come out . . .

Too bad he’d spent his life doing things that he didn’t really want to do.

Jonathan gave a low laugh. “Yeah, man, I guess they don’t.” Finally,
finally,
the guy holstered his weapon. “Look, I came by ’cause we need to talk.” His partner folded his arms over his chest. “I know you think I overreacted—”

Overreacted? The dude needed to try again. “You shot her.” That fact still pissed him off. Tanner kept his hands down. The better not to punch the jerk again. Breaking in a new partner sucked. Especially when the guy was human, and Tanner had to constantly watch his step with the fellow.

“She was a suspected killer,” Jonathan defended himself. “Coming at me with a weapon—”

“A table leg.” The anger broke through his voice. “She had a table leg, not a gun. We could have taken her down without lethal force.”

“Maybe.” Jonathan’s shoulders straightened. “If she’d been human.”

Oh, the fuck, no. The guy
knew?
With an effort, Tanner kept his face blank.

“Since she wasn’t human, since I’d dealt with her kind before, I knew we’d both be safer if I took the shot.” Jonathan rubbed his jaw. “I figured the punch and a mild concussion were worth saving our asses.”

You didn’t save us.
Tanner kept his voice mild, yanking back the anger now. “Uh, partner, I think you might have hit your head harder than anyone thought when you fell. Have you, um, been talking to the department shrink about the non-humans out there?”

Jonathan’s lips tightened. “Her body vanished from the morgue. The doctor who was treating her? He’s vanished, too.”

No, Cody had just headed back to his home in the swamp. He’d done his job and gone back to his life.

“They just misplaced her,” Tanner said, and he strode toward the front of the house. Time to get this guy off his property. “Bodies don’t just vanish. They put the wrong toe tag on her. She’ll turn up.” A story he’d used before. And eventually, “Marna Smith’s” remains would turn up. The ashes they were gonna use for her should be ready any day.

Only, Jonathan didn’t seem to be buying his story. “Why are you pretending? I
know
about you.” The guy was following him. Good.

Tanner just kept walking. It figured he’d get partnered up with the one human cop who thought he knew the score in New Orleans. Keeping his voice bland, Tanner said, “You know I’m a cop, big deal. That’s pretty obvious to all the uniforms at the precinct.”

“I know you’re a shifter.”

Tanner laughed and tossed a glance over his shoulder. “A what? Man, you’re crazy.”

“Why do you think I asked to be partnered with you?
I. Know.”

They were at the front of the house now. Tanner pointed toward the street and the waiting black truck. “I think you need to go home and have yourself a real, nice long sleep. When you wake up”—he offered a smile, one he knew held a hard edge—“I bet the monsters will be all gone.”

Jonathan didn’t move. Sighing, Tanner looked at him, and he found the human staring up at the second floor of the house. At the open window.

“Time for you to leave,” Tanner gritted. He’d about exhausted his quota of friendliness for the month.

Jonathan continued to look up at that window. Fine. Tanner would give the guy some help. Tanner slapped his hand down on Jonathan’s shoulder. “This way.” He pushed him toward the truck.

Jonathan’s lips thinned, but he didn’t fight, not anymore. He climbed into the truck. Cranked the engine, then asked, “Don’t you want me to tell you . . . how I know about you?”

“Since you’re spouting bullshit, I don’t really—”

“I saw you shift. Two years ago, way back on the Highland case.”

Tanner remembered that case. Like he’d ever forget it. The husband had flipped out on his wife. Trapped her and the kids inside the house. Set the whole place on fire around them. The flames had been so high that the cops at the scene hadn’t been able to get inside the home. The fire trucks had been too far away, and they’d all been afraid that Thomas Highland would kill his family before help could arrive.

So Tanner hadn’t waited for help. He’d gone behind the house. Shifted, and jumped right over those flames. He’d thought no one had seen him. He’d been so careful.

“You did a pretty good job of setting the scene. The wife and kids were hysterical, and with all the smoke, they didn’t really even know what they saw,” Jonathan said as his fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “And you sliced the perp’s throat wide open.”

Claws were good for that task.

“Then you put the guy’s knife in his hand, to make sure it looked like he’d offed himself.”

Tanner just shook his head. “That’s a real good imagination you’ve got there—”

“I
saw
you. I saw it all.” Jonathan’s fingers stopped tapping. “And I’ve kept your secret all this time. So cut the crap, man, and start dealing straight with me.” The engine revved. “We both know the hell that’s hiding in this town. I can help you, but you gotta start trusting me.”

Then Jonathan was gone. Racing away with a flash of his taillights and a roar of his engine.

Tanner waited until he was sure that the guy was good and gone; then he headed back for the house. He’d have to deal with his partner later, no getting around that, but for now, he had something more important waiting.

Once inside, he strode up the stairs. “Marna!” The house was tomb quiet. Her scent hung lightly in the air.

Too lightly.

Inhaling, Tanner swore and raced up the rest of the stairs. He shouted, “Marna!” once more, but he already knew the truth.

He shouldn’t have worried so much about Jonathan getting in the house and finding Marna. Shouldn’t have worried about that at all.

His angel was gone.

M
onsters and men liked to walk the streets of New Orleans at night. Both would look for prey—sex, blood, willing victims—and both would find it under the cover of darkness.

Marna hunched her shoulders as she stared up at the entrance to Hell. Extra bouncers were on duty tonight. Probably in response to her and Tanner’s little visit last night. She guessed the management didn’t want any more dead demons being ditched in the alley.

Slowly, Marna inched her way toward that alley. She ignored the rancid scents and the piles of garbage. The body had been removed and only a dark stain remained to mark the woman’s passing.

“Out alone tonight?”

The vampire’s voice drifted to her.

Marna didn’t stiffen, but she did hold tighter to the weapon she’d brought with her. “No. I’m not alone.” She’d planned this. Tanner would never have agreed to any blood exchange from her. She glanced over her shoulder as she carefully kept her hands hidden. “You’re here.”

Riley leaned against the alley wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “So I am.” He inhaled and frowned. “I can smell that shifter all over you.” A pause as he shook his head in what looked like confusion. “You mean to tell me that after he had you, the guy just let you walk away?”

Well, Tanner hadn’t exactly let her walk away. He’d been too busy running from her to pay much attention to anything.

Humans would have said he was a jerk. Marna would have agreed.

“This isn’t about him.” It never had been. Tanner wasn’t being set up for murder. She was.

Time for her to handle her own problems. No more relying on the big, bad shifter.

“Tell me what you know,” Marna told him, “then we’ll see about getting what you want.”

He laughed. “Do I look like I was turned yesterday?”

Since vamps didn’t age, she had no idea how old the guy was—or when he’d been turned.

“It’s been two hundred years.” He sauntered forward. “Long enough for me to know better than to listen to an angel twist the truth in order to get what
she
wants.”

Marna turned toward him but kept her hands behind her back. The pose probably made her look nervous. That was good. He’d never expect her attack if he thought she was weak.

He held up his hand. “Come with me.”

She lifted a brow. “Where?”

“You don’t expect me to dine in the garbage, now do you?” His gaze was on her throat. “Not when I’m going to be sampling some fine wine.” He shook his head. “Those two just don’t go well together.”

Her right hand slid down so that her weapon was concealed by the jeans she wore. She’d snuck into her apartment earlier. Gotten clothes. Planned her attack.

Her left hand took his. “Lead the way. You tell me what you know, and I’ll give you what you’ve got coming.”
A stake to the heart.
Because the weapon she concealed so carefully was a stake designed to end this vampire.

More laughter. His hand closed over hers. Warmer than she’d expected. Vamps were usually cool to the touch. The few she’d taken over the centuries had been. “What’s the rush, love? We’ve got all night.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” Tanner appeared at the mouth of the alley. His hands were loose at his sides, his legs braced apart. “Let her go.”

Her heart slammed into her ribs. She’d known he’d come after her. That was just the way he was. The cop in him, trying to save the day.

Only she didn’t need saving. From now on, Marna was determined to save herself. “Leave us alone, Tanner.”

She didn’t know who was more surprised—the shifter or the vampire.

“Well, well . . .” Riley murmured. “Guess that’s how it’s going. ”

“No, it’s not.” Tanner stalked toward them, but his eyes were just on her. “You’ve got a death wish, is that it?”

Death wouldn’t come so easily to her, but when he did, she knew she’d recognize her friend.

“I’m just making a bargain.” Her voice sounded careless. Mostly. Maybe he didn’t notice the slight tremble at the end of her words. “Now you need to get out of our way.”

The vamp’s fangs flashed. “Yes, shifter,
get out of the way.
The lady’s made her choice.”

The words hung in the air.

Tanner glanced down. Marna’s palm was growing slick with sweat and the slickness made it hard for her to hold on to her weapon. If Tanner would just move . . .

Tanner cocked his head and met her gaze once more. “So you are gonna be a killer now?”

He knew what she had planned. And she’d tried so hard to hide her stake. “I always was.” She’d never asked to be—death had been all she’d ever known.

“Baby . . .” He sighed and angled closer to her. “Why don’t you let me do the dirty work for you?” Then he grabbed Riley and ripped the vamp away from her. “I don’t mind getting my hands bloody.”

And his claws were out.

So was her stake. She’d leapt forward at the same instant. Tanner’s claws were at the vamp’s throat, but her stake was at Riley Kane’s heart.

“Fuck me,” Riley snarled. “Can’t anyone just donate a little angel blood anymore?”

“Tell us who killed those shifters,” Tanner demanded. “And you can walk out of here with your body mostly intact.”

Mostly?

But then Tanner stiffened and swore.

When Riley’s smile flashed, Marna knew they were in trouble. The vampire’s stare cut her way. “I never expected you to come alone. Not when you’ve got that possessive shifter who guards you so closely.”

Tanner’s nostrils flared. “Five . . . six . . .”

Marna heard the soft footsteps behind her and knew that he was counting the number of vamps heading their way.

“Six,” Riley agreed with a slow nod. “You see, I didn’t come alone either.”

“Like backup is gonna make a difference for you,” Tanner muttered; then he slammed Riley’s head back into the brick wall and whirled to grab Marna’s hand. “Stay behind me!”

The vamps were racing toward them now. Fangs bared, their own claws out and ready to rip and tear.

Marna heard the sound of popping bones. Snapping. Breaking. Tanner was shifting, but while he shifted—

His kind was always at their most vulnerable mid-shift. And the vamps knew that. They attacked. Their claws raked across his skin. His blood splashed onto the walls of the alley and dripped onto the ground.

“No!”
Marna screamed and lunged for Tanner. But Riley caught her and jerked her back.

His arms locked around her as he shouted to his men, “Make sure he doesn’t follow us!”

The stake was still in her hand. Clenched tight. Had Riley forgotten about her weapon? If so,
dumb mistake.

The vamps were swarming around Tanner now. She could barely see him. “Let him go!”

Riley lowered his head toward her throat. Inhaled deeply. “Maybe I’ll go ahead and take that bite.”

Marna spun around and shoved her stake into his chest. Not into his heart—he’d moved to deflect her blow, but she still drove that stake into him as hard as she could.

His eyes widened, and he began to yank at the stake.

Marna leapt away from him.
Tanner
. She had to save Tanner. There was so much blood on the ground. Too much. And she could hear the panther now, grunting in pain.

“Get away from him!”
Marna yelled again as she raised her hands.
“Get. Away.”
A blast of fire shot out from her fingertips and flew at the pack of vamps.

Two caught on fire instantly. They screamed and fell to the ground, rolling desperately as they tried to put out the flames. Smoke drifted in the air around them.

The panther slashed out with his claws and cut the throat of another vamp.

More blood.

The scent of death hung heavily in that alley.

Marna stared at her fingers. Powerful angels could control fire, only she hadn’t been able to raise the flames. Not since she fell, anyway.

But now . . .

A vamp raced toward her. A redhead with hate twisting his face. “I’m gonna drain you—”

“No, you’re not.” She raised her hands again. “But you will burn.”

The flames slammed into him. Directed. Intense. The scent of burning flesh had her stomach churning.

The other vamps were struggling with Tanner. The panther had left them bloody and weak, and they were trying desperately to hold him off.

It looked like he was going in for the kill.

She caught a light floral scent in the air. Marna knew what that telling scent meant. A death angel was close. One who’d come to ferry souls.

So who would be dying in that alley?

Not me.
The vamps were the ones biting the dust.

She rushed to Tanner’s side. A charred vamp tried to slash out at her with his claws. She didn’t move fast enough, and he ripped into her skin, tearing a bloody path down her side. Even as Marna cried out, the black panther attacked. He sank his razor-sharp teeth into the vampire’s throat.

She looked away, not wanting to see the rest. But she knew that particular vampire wouldn’t be rising again.

The others fled the alley. They left behind only blood and death.

The panther bumped into her side. Marna trembled. His head came nearly to her shoulders. Fully beast, so primal, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw a man’s gaze staring back at her.

And she saw a dead vampire at her feet. No, not dead, not yet.

The shadows around the vampire thickened. She lifted a hand, holding her bleeding side, and watched as the large, black wings of a death angel appeared from the darkness.

Angels marked by despair always had black wings. Death angels. Punishers. The most powerful of the angels, they were the ones that humans should fear.

The ones that could make even paranormals shudder.

The vampire stared up at the angel. Since the moment of his final death was at hand, he’d be able to see those broad, dark wings now. And he’d see the hard, carved features of the angel that she knew as—

Her breath froze in her lungs.
It was him.
Tall, strong, one of the few angels gifted with golden eyes—eyes the same color as the burnished gold that adorned the home in heaven she’d never see again.

She hadn’t seen Bastion in weeks. After she’d lost her wings, he’d tried to help her at first.

Then vanished when he realized there wasn’t any help to give.

He bent his dark head and gazed down at the vampire. Bastion hadn’t said anything to her. Hadn’t even looked her way.

It hurt. He knew she was there. Because of what she was, he also knew she’d be able to see him.

And he didn’t look at her. In heaven, he’d been her closest confidant. Now he couldn’t stand the sight of her?

“How the hell did you do that?” Tanner demanded as he reached for her. His arms caught her shoulders and he spun her around to face him. He’d shifted back to human form, and her gaze darted down the muscled expanse of his chest to—

She yanked her eyes right back up.
Clothes.
The guy seriously needed clothes.

And with just that thought, they appeared. A black T-shirt. Jeans. Even boots. A complete outfit to cover him.

Tanner’s eyes widened. “Nice trick.”

Angels were always able to conjure clothes. Since they had wings sprouting from their backs, they had to be able to use their powers to make articles that would fit around them. Except she hadn’t been able to use that particular talent since she’d fallen.

First the fire, now conjuring. It looked like her powers were flooding back. Finally.
No more weakness.

Marna glanced over her shoulder. Bastion was still there. With both Azrael and Sammael walking the earth, he’d be the ruler of the death angels now, but once, he’d been her only friend. “Bastion.”

His head lifted.

There was no emotion in his eyes or on the face that appeared to have been carved from stone. He looked at her as if he didn’t even know her. Why? Didn’t he understand?

“I miss you,” she said.

Did he flinch?

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Tanner pulled her closer to him.

Bastion bent and placed his hand over the vampire’s chest. Just that simply, another soul was taken.

The air seemed to chill, and goose bumps rose on Marna’s flesh. Tanner swore, and then he scooped her into his arms. “Screw this.”

Holding her tightly, he rushed toward the alley entrance. Her arms wrapped around him, but she said, “Tanner, no, I can—”

Bastion was in front of them. Staring at her with eyes that seemed to blaze.

“Stop,”
she told Tanner.

He froze.

He wouldn’t see the angel.
Couldn’t
. Fallen angels could always see their winged brethren, but most others couldn’t. Not unless he had the blood of celestial beings in him. Since demons were descended from the Fallen, some of them could see the angels who walked among the humans—as long as their bloodline was strong enough.

But vampires? Shifters? No, they wouldn’t see angels even though they sometimes strolled right beside them.

“I’m . . . sorry,” Bastion told her, voice stilted.

Her arms were around Tanner’s neck. She could feel the tension coursing through him. Tanner stared at the alley, glanced at her, stared again at the alley’s entrance. “All right, who the fuck is there?”

She licked her lips. “An angel.”

“I
know
that. Which winged ass am I dealing with?”

A muscle jerked in Bastion’s jaw. His gaze dropped, then hardened when he saw the way Tanner’s hands held her so tightly. “Be careful with him,” Bastion warned her. “He’s not someone you can trust.”