Avenging Angel (The Fallen 4)

I’m not ready to die. How many humans had told her that same thing over the centuries?

Just as she was leaning forward, a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Then, Tanner’s strong voice called out, “You don’t want to do that.”

Her fingers curved around the window ledge, but she glanced toward the bedroom door.

“You’re just gonna get bruised and banged up, and I’ll have you—” He kicked in the door, breaking the flimsy lock easily. Then Tanner stalked inside as if he owned the place. Oh, yes, he did. “I’ll have you,” he said again, eyes glinting, “before you can even run more than a few feet.”

Her heart slammed into her chest and fear had her tensing, but Marna tried to play it cool. She lifted an eyebrow and asked, “Who said anything about running?” Jumping, maybe.

His lips quirked.

“The next time you want in,” she told him, turning her back to the window so that she faced him fully, “maybe you should give a girl a chance to answer your knock. You know, before you go all macho crazy and break down the door.”

A real smile flashed across his face. Wow. She hadn’t realized . . . the shifter was actually handsome.

He had a dimple in his left cheek.

Then his smile faded. “I heard you open the window.”

Shifter senses. She’d forgotten how strong they could be. Marna shrugged and tried to look innocent. For an angel, that shouldn’t have been such a hard task. “It’s hot in here.”

Tanner shook his head and exhaled on a low sigh. “You’re so careful with your answers.”

She’d had to learn to be.

“But I know this game.” He headed toward her, eliminating those few precious feet that separated them.

She didn’t back up. Showing fear wasn’t an option. Besides, there wasn’t any place for her to go now. Not unless she decided to hop out that window. “I’m not playing a game with you.”

His gaze swept over her. “Don’t you understand? For now, you need me.”

That grated, and she said, “I don’t need anyone.”

One dark brow rose. “We’ll see about that.” His gaze slipped to her hair. For a moment, his eyes seemed to soften. “Damn but you are pretty.”

What?

He lifted his hand as if to touch her.

Marna flinched.

He stilled. His gaze found hers once more.

She took a breath and tried to shove aside the memory that had exploded in her mind. “Your . . . claws . . .”

His claws had come out. Maybe they’d been out from the moment he kicked in that door, but she hadn’t noticed them until he’d lifted his hand. Now, she couldn’t seem to notice anything else.

His claws were long, curving, wicked sharp. Sharp enough to slice away her life.

Tanner took a step back. “I . . .” He shook his head. Dropped his hand. Hid both of his hands behind his back. “When I broke through the door, the adrenaline pushed part of the change. The claws were like a reflex.”

His words barely penetrated. She was remembering another shifter. When Brandt had attacked her, his claws had looked just like Tanner’s.

She hated the sight of a shifter’s claws.

He slid back a few more steps.

She took a few more breaths.

Her gaze fell to the floor and, behind him, she saw drops of blood. Falling from his hands. Tanner had fisted his hands, and his claws must have cut right through the skin. “Tanner . . .”

His head lifted. “It’s okay.” After a moment’s hesitation, he raised his hands. She could see the small slices in the flesh of his palms. “They’re gone.”

His claws were gone. The shifter had his control back.

Marna rolled her shoulders, and the scars on her back seemed to burn.

His eyes weren’t meeting hers. “We need to get you some fresh clothes and—”

A loud crash sounded from downstairs. Tanner whirled and raced out of the room.

At first, Marna didn’t move at all. Then she heard the roar of “Shifter !”

It was a familiar roar.

Another crash seemed to shake the house. Goose bumps rose on her arms.

As an angel, Marna had always been taught to fear one being above all others. To fear the ancient angel who had fallen after he left a trail of bodies in a vicious rampage.

To fear the being known as Sammael.

A being she was pretty sure had just broken into Tanner’s house. That had been his roar. Once you heard Sammael’s voice, you never forgot it. At least, angels didn’t. Angels learned early to remember the things that were the most dangerous to them.

Marna glanced toward the window. Now would be the perfect time to make her escape. Tanner would be busy—probably fighting for his life against Sammael—and she would be free.

She just had to leave the shifter and make her escape.

One of the deadliest paranormals in the city grabbed Tanner by the throat and threw him across the room. “I heard about what you did, shifter.”

Sammael—Sam to his enemies and the maybe two friends the guy had in town—marched toward Tanner. The guy was an ancient angel, a freaking bringer of hell on earth, and it just figured that he’d be the one who’d busted into Tanner’s house.

When Sam tried to take a jab at him, Tanner swiped out at the guy and had the pleasure of seeing blood streak down Sam’s chest. Sam might be a badass, but Tanner knew the guy’s weak spots. Sam wouldn’t be taking him down.

When Sam leapt back, Tanner raised his claws, preparing for another round. “Just what the hell did you hear?” Tanner asked.

“You killed an angel.” Sam’s voice was lethally soft.

Huh. Looked like word on the paranormal streets had spread fast. But, technically, he hadn’t been the one to take that shot at Marna. The gossips could have at least gotten that part right. The death charge belonged to the detective who’d wound up with a broken nose. Tanner figured that had been a great way to break in a new partner. By breaking his face.

Sam closed in on him. “You’re going to suffer for what you’ve done.”

Perfect. Now he had to worry about Sam going ballistic on him. And Sam ballistic? Not good.

The Fallen reached for him again. Tanner deflected the blow and plowed his fist into Sam’s stomach. Sam didn’t even grunt at the impact, but Tanner’s hand felt as if it had slammed into a brick wall.

Maybe he should have used his claws with that punch. This time, he’d—

“Stop!”