“Don’t worry about me,” Marna told him. “Take care of yourself.” She wanted to touch him. To grab him and hold tight and shake him. This wasn’t the Bastion she’d known. “You have too much to lose.”
Bastion glared at Tanner. “I’ve already lost.”
Wind seemed to whip around them. Tanner swore. “If that ass**le wants to play . . .”
Tanner couldn’t play with a death angel. Not and come out still living. No one could win that particular game.
“I’m trying to help you,” Bastion snapped as the wind beat harder. He was losing control. Breaking apart right in front of her. His wings stretched. Flapped. “He’s nothing but a danger to you. If he’s not stopped, he’ll destroy you.”
Marna lifted her chin. Angels don’t lie. Yet she trusted Tanner. So where did that leave her? “You aren’t touching him.” Bastion was now the leader of the death angels. Refusing his order would be unheard of among their kind. Turning against him? An unforgiveable act.
But . . .
But she wasn’t in heaven anymore. And so far, only one person had been there for her since her fall. There to keep her safe. To fight for her.
Maybe it was time for her to start fighting for him.
“You can’t stop Death.” Bastion began to rise into the air. A faint smile twisted his lips. “You know that better than most.”
Damn him.
He vanished.
And Marna finally took a deep breath.
“He’s gone.” Tanner’s voice. Growling. Tense.
She managed a nod.
He turned her toward him. Glared down at her. “What the hell is going on?”
You’ve got a death angel who wants you cold in the ground. She couldn’t lie, but that didn’t mean that she had to tell the truth. “It was just a visit from an old friend.” A warning visit. “Someone who’s worried about me.”
His hands were on her arms. His warm fingers curled around her flesh. “An old friend makes you scream in fear?”
“Yes.” Truth. “When you have old friends like I do.” She should tell him more. “Tanner, I—”
His mouth took hers. His tongue slid past her lips and thrust into her mouth.
After a moment’s hesitation, she kissed him back. She wanted the rush of passion that he could give her. She wanted to forget Bastion and the nightmare memories that waited on that far bank. Marna kissed Tanner with all her passion and felt the wild surge of desire inside her. The lust she felt for him could banish any chill.
His hands slid over her body. Found her ass. Curled and pulled her up against him. There was no mistaking the hard bulge of his arousal. “You’re not going back to the angels.” He whispered the words near her lips. “That’s not your life anymore.”
No. She couldn’t go back. Without her wings, there’d be no way for her to ever get to heaven.
Lost.
His head lifted and his gaze blazed at her. “You’re mine now.”
Marna shook her head. No, she wasn’t. She belonged only to herself, not to—
Tanner kissed her again. She opened her lips and her tongue met his because she liked his taste and loved the heat that spilled through her at his touch. But . . .
Not his.
She wouldn’t belong to another. Not even to someone like Tanner. She’d watched too many humans over the centuries. Belonging led to pain. Betrayal.
If he’s not stopped, he’ll destroy you.
She wouldn’t forget Bastion’s words.
One more hard press of his mouth, and Tanner pulled back. “We have to go.” His gaze darted behind her. To the blackened ground. His stare hardened. “Cody’s out there, and he’s running from who the hell knows what.” His fingers twined with hers. “We have to hurry, we—” Tanner stiffened and spun around.
They weren’t alone any longer—and this time, their visitor wasn’t an angel. Marna didn’t know the woman who stalked so slowly from the woods, but she had two men beside her. Marna recognized those men—shifters. They’d been in this swamp before.
That long ago night, when her wings had been ripped away, they’d been there.
Laughing.
Panther shifters.
“Captain?” Tanner faced the new threat. His claws were out. “What are you doing here?”
The woman, petite, with dark brown hair, offered them a smile. As she came closer, the shifters behind her began to change into beasts with snarls and cracks and snaps of their bones.
“I’m here to apprehend an angel.” The woman pointed at Marna. “A wanted killer.”
Tanner shook his head. “Jillian, we’ve been over this—”
She laughed. The sound was cold and bitter and sliced through the night. “I don’t give a damn if she’s innocent or not, Chance. Angels are worth too much money to walk away from, especially weak little things like her who can’t get up enough power to hurt anyone.”
There was a badge clipped to the woman’s belt. This Jillian, she was a cop? Like Chance?
“Everyone wants angel blood,” Marna muttered, disgusted and sick of being on the menu. “Can’t you all just leave me alone?”
“It might not matter upstairs.” The woman’s voice was still as cool as you please. “But down here, money talks. As much as I’ll get for you . . . hell, I can buy forgiveness for anything I do.”
“You’re a cop!” Tanner shouted.
The others had completely shifted. Transformed into big, hulking panthers with yellowed, razor-sharp teeth.
“I’m a demon first.” She pulled out her gun. Aimed it at him. “In all the time that I’ve watched you at the PD, you just never seemed to get that. We’re paranormals first, not cops. The humans . . . they’re second to what we need.”
The panthers began to creep forward. Their heads were low to the ground. Their big bodies tense. Two panthers, and one demon with a gun.
They could handle this, right? They’d taken out those vampires, and these odds had to be better.
“You might as well give her over to us,” the woman—Jillian—said. “She’s worth so much, the supernaturals won’t stop coming until she’s dead. A helpless angel.” She laughed again. That high-pitched laugh was getting on Marna’s last nerve. “That’s like throwing a child into a pool of sharks.”
Marna felt the now familiar pulse of fire push through her body. She lifted her hands and hoped the flames wouldn’t desert her again. Only one way to find out.