Humans lusted. They f**ked. They took their pleasure when they wanted.
Angels were better than that. Marna had been better. Until the shifter came to her.
His wings beat faster against the air. Tanner would pay for what he’d done.
Defiling an angel? Did the fool truly think there would be no consequences? There always were.
Punishment would come.
The fury deepened as he flew higher.
The shifter would suffer.
Just as Marna had suffered. And . . . just as I do.
Tanner’s phone rang, a loud peal of sound that had him swearing. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay buried inside of Marna and go for another round of lovemaking.
Maybe six more rounds?
Never get enough.
But the phone kept pealing at him. Swearing, he fumbled around the bed and found the jeans he didn’t remember ditching. Tanner fished out the phone—good thing he’d managed to snag it after his shift; then he tensed when he saw the number revealed on the screen.
Jonathan.
He glanced at Marna. Her eyes, so wide, were on him. Slowly, carefully, he withdrew from her body.
A light gasp left her, and he caught the faintest scent of blood.
Virgin.
He’d just had sex with a virgin angel. There had to be some kind of special place in hell for a guy like him.
If she only knew all the things I’ve done.
Marna never would have let him touch her. Funny, because he would’ve traded the last remaining scrap of his soul for another chance to take her.
The phone rang again, vibrating in his hand. Turning away from her, he lifted it to his ear. “Chance.”
“You’ve got a real big problem,” Jonathan told him, voice low. There were shouts behind him. The sound of sirens.
Frowning, Tanner headed toward the balcony. “And that’s new . . . how?”
“A rookie cop was just rushed to St. Mary’s. The guy was left for dead in the street, and guess just who the hell was the last person he radioed in about?”
“I didn’t—”
“He was still conscious when the EMTs pulled up, and the guy ID’d you.” A low hiss of breath whispered over the line, followed by the scream of more sirens. “Man, you need to come in to the station, freaking now, and clear this mess up.”
Tanner’s hand tightened around the phone.
“Otherwise,” Jonathan said, “you’re going to find your ass on the Most Wanted list, and every cop in the area will come gunning for you.”
The line went dead.
Sonofa—
“Tanner?” Marna’s voice. Soft. Worried. “What’s going on?”
He turned away from the balcony. “Looks like I’m wanted for an assault on an officer.” Assault? Attempted murder?
What. The. Hell?
“That kid who pulled us over . . .” He yanked on his clothes. Checked for his badge. He’d kept it shoved in his back pocket after flashing it to the other cop. “He’s on the way to the hospital.”
“What?” She jumped from the bed, giving him an eyeful that was enough to make his c**k jerk up.
Down, dumbass. Now wasn’t the time for wanting. Though she could sure make him want more than any other.
“What happened to him?” she demanded as, with a wave of her hand, she had her clothes magically back on her body. Handy talent, only he liked it better in reverse, when those clothes hit the floor.
“What happened?” Tanner repeated, gut clenching as he thought about the possibilities of just what could have gone wrong on that dark stretch of road. “According to the cop, me.”
Marna blinked. “I don’t—”
“He said I was the one who hurt him. And if I don’t get my ass down to the station and figure out what’s going on, then, baby, we could be in for a whole world of trouble.” Because Jonathan had been right. The cops would come looking for him.
And they might find her. He’d rather not explain a dead woman right then. Or a not-so-dead woman. It looked like he had enough shit hitting the fan without adding that to the menu.
Let the kid be all right. The thought whispered through his mind. The rookie had seemed like a decent sort. Naïve, but—but he didn’t deserve death.
Tanner stalked toward Marna. He buried his hand in her hair—like silk—and tipped her head back. “Stay in the apartment. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“I can help—”
“You can stay out of sight.” The whole damn thing had to be a setup. One designed to make him a target. “Someone is trying to pin this attack on me, so that means someone wants me out of the way.” Why?