“Someone’s coming? But—”
But he was already there.
Tanner saw the angel fly right through the window opening, twisting his body easily, fluidly, and then landing on his feet. The angel’s eyes were only on Marna. For a being that was supposed to be stone-cold when it came to emotions, that golden stare was sure burning hot.
Tanner stepped a foot to the left and blocked his view. “Hello, again, ass**le.”
Bastion’s gaze snapped to his face. A muscle flexed in the angel’s jaw. “Can you do nothing but take from her?”
Tanner’s shoulders stretched. He hadn’t intended to take her blood again. Not like that detail had been written down in his game plan. “Can you do nothing but be a pr ick?”
Bastion lunged forward. Because he’d wanted to attack since he’d first watched Bastion stare at Marna with lust in his eyes, Tanner swiped out with his fist. The punch slammed right into the side of the angel’s face—
Even as Bastion shoved his hand against Tanner’s chest.
“No!” Marna’s scream.
The touch burned him, as if he’d been branded, cutting into skin and stealing his breath. In that burning instant, Tanner realized that the bastard had just given him the Death Touch.
Except he wasn’t dying. Tanner glanced down at the hand that still rested against his chest, and when he looked up once more, he knew his smile held an evil edge. “My turn.” Then he lifted his claws.
Fear flashed over Bastion’s face. He stumbled back, his eyes wild as he looked for an escape. Fool. Didn’t he know just how much the beast liked to hunt? Tanner stalked forward. His claws were now ripping from both hands. “This is gonna—”
“Tanner!” Marna’s voice froze him. Then she was there, putting her body between him and the angel. “Don’t.” Her gaze dropped to his claws, and she shuddered. “Don’t. Don’t make him like me.”
It pissed him off that she even said the words. But, with care—because it was her—he lifted his hand and caught her chin. “Baby, I won’t touch his wings.”
She blinked and a faint furrow appeared between her brows.
“But I am gonna kick his ass. That angel needs to stop lusting after you, and I’ll make sure he does.” Time for Bastion to realize that she’s mine. He wasn’t giving her up to anyone or anything.
Even an angel who might be better for her.
Mine.
Because he did believe in forever.
“I’m not afraid of you, shifter,” Bastion shouted. “You think because you’re high on angel blood that you’re some kind of threat?” A sneer twisted his face. “You’re nothing, you’re—”
Marna stepped to the side. “A little ass beating.” Her gaze turned to Bastion. “Because no one calls Tanner ‘nothing’.”
Fuck but he could love her. Could?
The angel tried to fight. Tanner slammed his fist into Bastion’s stomach. When the guy doubled over, Tanner kicked out. Punched. Tanner didn’t use his claws though because, well, he didn’t want to get any angel blood on Marna.
And you want to show her you can have control.
Bastion caught Tanner’s fist in one hand. Froze the blow. Ah, so he was gonna fight back.
“I’m not as weak as you think,” Bastion muttered. Then he hurtled Tanner across the room.
When he smashed into the wall, Tanner laughed at the impact. Now, things could get interesting. He leapt back to his feet and charged across the room. His right shoulder plowed into Bastion’s stomach, and he took that angel down old-school, football-tackle style. He might have even heard a bone or two crunch. Sweet music.
Tanner rose easily and stared down at the groaning angel. “I think you’re starting to—”
Bastion’s legs swept out. Nice move, but predictable. Tanner dodged easily. Grunting, panting, Bastion climbed to his feet. Aw, was the angel’s nose bleeding? Too bad.
“Okay.” Marna grabbed Tanner’s arm. “Enough fun.”
Not really, but for her, he’d stop. He’d proved his point. I can kick your ass, angel. Any day of the week, and if the angel wanted, twice on Sunday.
Bastion swiped the blood away. “You’re . . .” He grabbed his nose, cracked it, and put the bones back in place. “Messing with fate.”
Tanner shrugged. “Then fate shouldn’t mess with me.”
Bastion’s teeth ground together. His gaze, bright with anger, lit on Marna. “You’ve given a shifter resistance to the Touch. What do you think will—”