Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(100)

But Carmella nodded. “I’m afraid he is. I’ve watched him. I know what he’s done. All the lives he’s taken.” Carmella seemed to glide toward her. The angel’s voice dropped as she said, “He’s evil, you see.”

“No,” Marna snapped right back, “he’s not.”

Carmella blinked. Was that surprise on her face? “How can you not know? You were with him. You had to sense the darkness he carries.”

“Yes, well . . .” She had. “There’s more to life than a little darkness, okay? People can do some very, very bad things, but still be capable of good, too.” That was the beauty of life. You could find goodness even in . . .

Well, even in hell on earth.

She squared her shoulders. “Tanner isn’t doomed. He has me.” And she’d watch out for him. Just not from a perch on some fluffy white cloud.

Guard what you want the most. “I’ll guard him,” she said, nodding because this was a duty she’d gladly accept, “but I’ll do it from his side.”

Carmella’s eyes widened the smallest bit. “You know what you’re saying . . . ?”

“I’m saying I want to go back to him.”

The angel shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that.” Her white wings skimmed over the golden floor. “To go to earth, to stay down there with him, do you know what you have to do?”

Marna’s gut was tight with fear and dread because, yes, she knew. All angels knew. If you wanted to live with the humans below—or even with a certain sexy shifter—then first you had to kiss your heavenly life good-bye.

You had to fall. “I lost my wings once.” These white wings were so new, she’d barely grown used to the whispery feel of them. “I can lose them again.” She’d survive. No, she’d do more than survive.

She’d be happy.

But first . . . Marna swallowed and realized Carmella was looking at her with emotion now. Finally. And in that stare, Marna saw pity.

“How can you give up so much for one man?”

“It’s not just for him. It’s for me.” For the life she would have. A child. Memories. Laughter. Passion. Now she understood what Bastion had meant. The fall wasn’t just about Tanner. For me.

“You’ll burn for it,” Carmella warned her.

Her chin lifted. “Yes, I will.”

The heavy doors swept open. Her choice had been heard. The howl of the wind filled her ears. Marna closed her eyes as the wind lifted her body. She hoped she didn’t scream. Hoped she could hold back the cries.

But then she started to fall and the fire came at her . . .

Tanner. It was his name that she screamed.





The panther leapt through the window, sending shards of glass flying into the interior of the antebellum home. Not a home in construction like his—one that blazed with glory and wealth. Snarls and roars escaped Tanner as he charged for the stairs—and for the man who was already racing toward him.

“Are you insane?” Sammael demanded, glaring at him and stopping short in the middle of the stairs. “Or do you just have a death wish?”

The panther roared again.

Sam’s mate, the blonde with the eyes that saw too much, rushed up behind him.

Tanner had hunted through the city. Gone into the swamps. Searched every place he could think of, but he hadn’t been able to find Marna. Her scent had faded. She’d just vanished from the face of the earth.

Gone to heaven.

“Shouldn’t an angel be with him?” the blonde asked, peering over Sam’s shoulder. “I mean, there’s something missing from this picture, right?”

Tanner snarled.

Sam sent a bolt of fire at him and singed his fur. “You don’t snarl at her.”

Fine. He’d just take off the Fallen’s head. The panther charged at Sam.

“He’s hurting,” the woman said, sounding sad.

Sam lifted his hands, not to attack Tanner, but to ward him off. “Easy, beast. I don’t want a war with you.”

The panther’s claws dug into the gleaming hardwood.

Sam winced at the damage, then sighed. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

And because he couldn’t speak as a panther, Tanner let the shift sweep through him, fast, brutal. He didn’t even feel a whisper of pain. Too much fury rode him. He kept his claws out even as his body became that of a man again, just in case he needed to behead a Fallen.

Tanner would make Sam help him. “Her wings grew back.”

“Impossible.” From Seline.

But Sam nodded. “I thought your healing magic might work on her.”

And he hadn’t bothered to pass along that little bit of info? Tanner jumped up and hit him in the jaw. The blow would have shattered a human’s jaw, but Sam just lifted a brow. “Feel better?” the Fallen asked him.

Hell, no. He wouldn’t feel better until he had Marna back.

“And, damn, man, put some clothes on.” Sam waved his hand and conjured a pair of jeans on Tanner’s body. “Or are you trying to make me go blind?”

The Fallen was an *. Tanner lifted his claws. “You knew I’d lose her.”

Sam didn’t back down. “I knew Marna would have a choice. She didn’t fall, not technically, so she could go back, as long as she had her lovely black wings.”