Angel in Chains (The Fallen 3)

“H-help me . . .” The witch whispered.

Pity tore through Jade even as she remembered . . . The knife shoved into her chest. “I’m taking his heart . . .” Only Heather hadn’t taken Brandt’s heart.

She tried to take mine.

Jade eased into the room. Her gaze searched each corner, all the shadows. No panthers waited.

“Please . . .” Heather’s strangled cry. “Need . . .” She tried to lift her hand, but the rope on the old bedpost wouldn’t allow her wrist to rise.

Jade crouched near the bed. Damn. Those slices were deep. And all that blood . . . “You’re going to be okay now.” No, she wasn’t. Not unless Az could get in there and help her.

His blood. That angel blood of his might be strong enough to save Heather.

“You’re going to be okay,” she told Heather again, meaning it this time. “Az!” Jade screamed his name.

The witch had suffered. So much torture. Jade didn’t forgive the woman for what she’d done, but dying like this . . .

No one deserved to die like this.

Jade yanked at the thick ropes around Heather’s wrists and managed to get the witch’s left hand free.

“Az!” She yelled again. She needed him, now. Dammit, if he wasn’t coming in, she’d have to go drag the angel off those panthers.

Jade turned from the bed, but Heather’s free hand flew out and wrapped around her wrist. “Sorry . . . so sor . . . ry.”

Shaking her head, Jade said, “Forget that now. You can beg forgiveness, I can kick your ass—later. We’ll do that whole bit after—”

“Had to hurt you . . . to get . . . to him . . .” Heather’s breath heaved out. “Only way . . .” Blood trickled past her lips.

Yeah, well, it had been a shitty way, but they’d deal with that after they stopped Heather from dying.

“You make . . . him weak.”

“Nothing makes Brandt weak.” Heather should have realized that. “He doesn’t really love me. He can’t love anyone.” He was a sociopath. Incapable of actual love. She’d learned that long ago. He’d said the right things at first. Done the right things. But the man was broken inside.

“I’ll be right back,” Jade promised her. “I’ll get Az. He can help you.”

But Heather wasn’t letting go of her wrist. “You . . . kill him.”

The witch’s nails dug into her flesh.

“Have to . . .” More blood bubbled from Heather’s lips. “He’ll . . . destroy everything.”

“If you want me to stop Brandt, then you have to help me.” Jade tried to keep the fear out of her voice. The witch didn’t look like she had much life left in her. “We need those brimstone bullets that you made for Brandt. Az thinks they can take him out.”

She moved her head in the smallest of negative shakes. “No . . . more.”

Well, hell.

“You kill . . .”

A rush of air shoved back Jade’s hair. She blinked and found Az kneeling beside the bed.

When she saw him, Heather cried out and tried to back away. There was no place for her to go. “Don’t! Don’t touch—”

“Where are the bullets?” He demanded.

Heather started gasping.

Jade grabbed his shoulder. “She doesn’t have any more bullets. Just . . . shit, help her.”

He turned his head slowly to meet Jade’s stare. “She drove a knife into your chest. And she laughed while you bled.”

Um, she didn’t exactly remember that whole laughing part.

Then Heather started to laugh again and the trickle of an icy memory flowed through Jade’s mind.

“Knew . . . knew it would be you . . .” Heather whispered. “Always . . .” Her eyelids started to sag closed.

Az shook her. “You’re not dying yet.”

“I’m . . . already dead.” She didn’t open her eyes. “You know . . . how it works. Should have taken me before . . . can’t stop death.”

The chill just roughened Jade’s skin all the more. “Are there more brimstone bullets at your shop?”

“Go to . . . hell . . . to get them . . .” Heather’s breath seemed to choke out. Her chest barely rose. “Maybe . . . maybe I’ll find some when I get there.” Her pale, bloodstained lips curled.

“Do something, Az!” Just watching the witch die was tearing her apart.

But then the room seemed to grow very, very dark. As if something were sucking all the light away.

A thick shadow appeared near the bed. A shadow with the form of a man. He hovered over Heather. Reached for her.

Even as Az reached out at the same instant. Az’s hand pressed on top of that shadowy hand. Heather stiffened. Her mouth parted in a soundless cry. Her chest stopped rising.

Jade whirled away. Shoving open the door, she fled outside. Two shifters lay sprawled on the ground. Motionless. Were they dead, too?

She was so tired of death. Jade ran toward the woods. Maybe she should have felt relief that Heather was dead. One less crazy bitch out there who wanted her dead. But . . .

But she wasn’t relieved. Heather shouldn’t have ended up that way. No one should suffer that much.

Jade slammed into a strong chest. Powerful arms reached for her. Held her tight. Jade’s head whipped up. Her eyes were caught by a golden stare. One that seemed ice cold.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the man said, and his hands tightened around her. “Time to come with me.”

Jade kicked him in the groin. Startled, he let her go. His hair blew in the breeze.

“Keep waiting, ass**le,” she told him as she backed up a few precious steps. “I’m not going anyplace with you!”

A line of fire appeared, separating her from the grabby stranger. “Stay away from her, Bastion!” Az roared. “Don’t touch her!”

Too late. He’d touched. And the guy—Bastion—just leapt right through that wall of flame and grabbed her again. Grabbed her—and she finally saw the wings that sprouted from his back. Oh, damn.

He lifted her up, holding her effortlessly. His face—handsome, strong, too hard—came close to hers as he stared into her eyes.

Those wings of his seemed to block out the light. Not shadows like Az’s, but full, real, thick wings. Black wings.

Bastion’s eyes froze her. “You should be dead.”

Same song. “I’ve been getting that a lot,” she whispered.