Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(3)

And I used to wonder what it would be like to be human.

What she wouldn’t give to be ignorant again. To just . . . not know.

He leaned in closer to her. Still not touching, but every part of her was hyper aware of him.

“Others know what you did,” Tanner said.

Marna blinked, lost. “Uh, good?” Because she didn’t know. Had no clue what the guy was rambling about now. But . . . he smelled good. Not like the others in that place. He didn’t reek of stale beer or too much cheap cologne. He smelled—

“They know you killed those men.”

Whoa. Back up. She hadn’t killed anyone.

His eyes narrowed, the faint lines tightening on his face. “You left their bodies in the alley. What did you think would happen? That no one would find out what you were doing?”

Another laugh came from her as she turned away. “I have no idea what you’re—”

His fingers closed around her shoulder.

Marna stilled. “You know better.” He did. The guy had a pretty thorough knowledge of angels, so he understood just how dangerous her kind could be. She’d gone out of her way to warn Tanner off. Seeing him reminded her too much of what she’d lost. Because of—

“Why am I still breathing?” His other hand rose and pulled her off the bar stool and up against him. “If you want me dead, then why am I still standing?”

His body was so hot and hard against hers. Her heartbeat kicked faster in her chest. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him because the guy was really just huge. His hands seemed to burn right through her clothes, their weight a heavy touch that made her feel strangely restless.

His gaze searched hers. “Why?”

She brought her hands up between them. Placed her palms right over his chest, smiled and—

“We got a problem here?” the bartender demanded as he slapped his hands down on the counter.

Tanner didn’t turn his way. “Mind your own business.”

Didn’t he sound all tough and deadly? Didn’t he look that way, too? In his faded jeans, in that black T-shirt that pulled across his muscled chest, with his dark hair mussed and that jaw clenched . . . he looked like he could kick the ass of any fool dumb enough to get in his way.

Marna wasn’t a fool.

She also wasn’t weak.

She spared a glance for the bartender. About six-three, way over two hundred pounds, and sporting fists that would probably make most men tremble in fear. “I’m okay.” She had this.

The bartender’s eyes narrowed and clearly showed his doubt. “You sure, honey? ’Cause I can—”

Tanner swore and stepped away from her. Ah, giving up already? But then he shoved his hand inside his back pocket and yanked out some kind of wallet. He flashed his ID and snarled, “Police, *. Now step the hell back.”

Right. He was playing the police card? Figured he’d stoop that low.

Her lips twisted as she started to walk away.

“You’re not leaving me, Marna.” There was no missing the anger beneath his words.

So what? She had her own share of anger. “Watch me.” Yes, she’d actually taunted the big, bad shifter. Marna marched away. She kept her head up and her back straight. She’d just clear her own way through the crowd.

Tanner grabbed her arm after she’d taken about five steps. “Not gonna happen, baby.”

Wait . . . baby?

She glanced at him and saw that the guy had pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Her jaw dropped.

“I tried to do this the easy way, but you didn’t want that.” He snapped one cuff around her wrist before she could even blink. “So I guess we’ll go for the drama.”

He spun her around and locked both cuffs behind her back. Marna was aware of the avid stares and not-so-quiet whispers that focused on her.

“You’re comin’ with me,” Tanner told her, his faint Southern accent deepening a bit, “because there is no way I’m letting you out of my sight now.”

She yanked at the cuffs. She should have been able to snap the things in two with hardly any effort.

Only . . . no snap.

He pushed her forward. The crowd backed up. “Thanks to a voodoo priestess I know off Bourbon Street, I was able to add a little something extra to those cuffs.” Tanner’s words were pitched low. “They can keep level-ten demons locked up, so I figured they’d keep you held tight, too.”

This wasn’t happening. She yanked against the cuffs again. No give.

Tanner had promised that he’d never hurt her. He’d seemed . . . good, despite his sadistic freak of a now-dead brother. She’d been willing to let Tanner keep living.

Only now he was cuffing her?

Fury churned in her gut. “You aren’t doing this to me.”

He leaned in close to her, close enough for her to see the dark gold flecks in his eyes. “I’ve got two dead bodies that I can trace back to you. Trust me, I am doing this.”

Two dead bodies? Marna shook her head. She hadn’t killed anyone.

Though that certainly hadn’t been for lack of trying.

I can’t kill anymore. No one knew that secret shame yet.

But the shifter wasn’t giving her time to respond. More cops were spilling through the doorway, guys in uniform this time, and they were all closing in on her. Great. Obviously, she was having another one of her lucky days.