Home > Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(74)

Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(74)
Author: Cynthia Eden

The pain twisted in her side. Marna glanced down. Her blood spilled down her clothing.

“At death, a shifter’s body always goes back to its human form.”

She knew this crap. Pain pulsed through her. The fire was rising again, and she couldn’t seem to muster the energy to fight the flames.

“But if you can cut off a shifter’s limbs before it dies, those pieces don’t ever change back. They freeze, and you get a real nice souvenir.”

He was a sick freak.

He yanked his hand back. Marna gasped at the agony. And she saw it wasn’t a knife that had stabbed into her. Heavy claws had dug into her flesh and torn her muscles.

Claws?

Her gaze rose to meet his.

“I took these from that panther shifter in the swamp. Russell. The guy thought he was such a badass, but you should have heard him crying when I sliced off his hand. I took my time with him. I tore that animal apart with his own damn claws.” He smiled. “Then I kept my souvenir, because I knew just how well a shifter’s claws could work against the other supernaturals out there.”

Other supernaturals . . . me. Angels could be killed by those claws. So could every other supernatural beast that walked the earth.

Her body trembled. The scent of flowers deepened. And . . . was that an angel she saw? Slipping into the room?

“I didn’t want to use these on you. But you gave me no choice.” He lifted his hand and drove the claws into her chest. “If you’re not with me, angel, then you’re dead to me.”

Blood dripped from her lips. “Bastion . . .” She could see him now.

He’d come for her. Just like he’d said.

“You should have been more.” Spittle flew from Jonathan’s mouth. His face was right next to hers. Her body shook, and he snarled at her, “You were supposed to be mine. Supposed to be perfect! Forever!”

No one was perfect. Not even an angel. She hurt so much, but the pain wouldn’t last. Nothing lasts. She tasted blood and death on her tongue. But she heard the fierce growl of her panther and the sound had a smile curving her lips. Jonathan wouldn’t kill anyone else. Not after Tanner got hold of him.

“Go to hell,” she whispered and fell back.

Even as the panther leapt into the air.

Cody crawled from the car. That bastard . . . Cody had always told his brother that he had to watch out for the humans. I was right.

Only he hadn’t been watching well enough this time, either.

Pain ate at his insides and twisted his gut. The blasts from Jonathan’s gun had knocked him out for a few moments, and he still couldn’t see straight.

Drugs.

Yeah, he knew the feeling, but . . .

The bastard cop had made a mistake. Demons and drugs . . . when you mixed them, you never knew what you’d get.

Addiction. Hell.

He wouldn’t listen to the whispers now. Couldn’t. He had to find Tanner. Find the lost angel. And he had a cop to kill.

He pushed to his feet. Took a heavy breath. Then, he put one foot in front of the other. Again. Again. Blood fell in his wake. The drugs had started to numb the pain but the blood, nothing was stopping it. With every step, more flowed from him.

I won’t be weak this time. He’d show Tanner. He could be strong. He could be there to save his brother.

It was his turn.

He just had to . . . get to Tanner.

Good thing it was turning daylight. Otherwise, his blood would be drawing the vamps in.

Good thing . . .

Then he heard the faint whisper of footsteps behind him. His eyes squeezed closed. He’d never had good luck.

“Um . . . look at that,” a familiar voice drawled. “A walking blood buffet.”

Cody turned and saw the vamp stalking him.

No, he’d never had good luck.

I’m sorry, Tanner.

Then he faced the creature that stalked him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Kill. Destroy.

Tanner slammed his body into Jonathan’s. The jerk just laughed as he crashed into the floor.

He wouldn’t be laughing when Tanner ripped his throat out.

The scent of Marna’s blood filled his nose and drove the panther into a frenzy. Hurt. His mate was hurt. He’d destroy the bastard who’d made her bleed.

And how had he missed the evil in Jonathan? How had he looked right at him and not seen it?

Because he was human.

No, Tanner had just thought the guy was human. He hadn’t smelled like a shifter, like a vamp, or even a demon. And he hadn’t possessed the telltale scent of an angel.

Just smelled human. Smelled human. Acted human. But that had been nothing but a lie.

Now Jonathan was on his feet and holding some kind of claws in his hands. The SOB thought he was a shifter now, too? Tanner would show him the damage real claws could do.

Tanner sliced out and let his claws rip across Jonathan’s forearms. Jonathan screamed. Blood flowed.

More. Destroy.

Tanner slammed his paws into Tanner’s chest. This time when he took his partner down, the guy didn’t get back up. Because he didn’t want to make it easy on him, Tanner sank his claws into Jonathan’s chest. This bastard was going to suffer before he went to hell.

For Cody. For the pain that he’d put his brother through.

For the young cop. That kid hadn’t deserved to have his body mangled on a dark, lonely road.

For Marna. Jonathan never should have come for her. To make her bleed, to make her cry out in pain . . .

She wasn’t crying anymore.

That knowledge slowly penetrated the rage of the beast. With his claws still buried in Jonathan’s chest, the panther’s head turned to the right. He saw Marna. Lying on the floor. Blood all around her.

Not moving.

Breathing?

Yes, yes, she was breathing. He could hear the faint rasp of her breath. And he could smell . . .

An angel.

The panther roared, and his head swung back to face Jonathan. The guy was grinning his sick, satisfied grin. Not screaming anymore.

He’d scream again. Tanner would make sure of it.

“F-fuckin’ animal . . . you’ll never . . . have her again.”

He’d have her forever. Marna was his. This bastard was dead, and Marna was going to—

“I touched her . . . heart.”

The panther’s gaze flew to the claws that Jonathan still gripped in his hand.

Touched it? Or . . . Took it?

“She deserved . . .” Jonathan coughed up blood. “To be p-punished.”

The beast snarled and his teeth sank into Jonathan’s throat. Jonathan struggled, shoved, tried to break free, but the panther held tight to the prey that would never escape.

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