Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(50)

That long ago night, when her wings had been ripped away, they’d been there.

Laughing.

Panther shifters.

“Captain?” Tanner faced the new threat. His claws were out. “What are you doing here?”

The woman, petite, with dark brown hair, offered them a smile. As she came closer, the shifters behind her began to change into beasts with snarls and cracks and snaps of their bones.

“I’m here to apprehend an angel.” The woman pointed at Marna. “A wanted killer.”

Tanner shook his head. “Jillian, we’ve been over this—”

She laughed. The sound was cold and bitter and sliced through the night. “I don’t give a damn if she’s innocent or not, Chance. Angels are worth too much money to walk away from, especially weak little things like her who can’t get up enough power to hurt anyone.”

There was a badge clipped to the woman’s belt. This Jillian, she was a cop? Like Chance?

“Everyone wants angel blood,” Marna muttered, disgusted and sick of being on the menu. “Can’t you all just leave me alone?”

“It might not matter upstairs.” The woman’s voice was still as cool as you please. “But down here, money talks. As much as I’ll get for you . . . hell, I can buy forgiveness for anything I do.”

“You’re a cop!” Tanner shouted.

The others had completely shifted. Transformed into big, hulking panthers with yellowed, razor-sharp teeth.

“I’m a demon first.” She pulled out her gun. Aimed it at him. “In all the time that I’ve watched you at the PD, you just never seemed to get that. We’re paranormals first, not cops. The humans . . . they’re second to what we need.”

The panthers began to creep forward. Their heads were low to the ground. Their big bodies tense. Two panthers, and one demon with a gun.

They could handle this, right? They’d taken out those vampires, and these odds had to be better.

“You might as well give her over to us,” the woman—Jillian—said. “She’s worth so much, the supernaturals won’t stop coming until she’s dead. A helpless angel.” She laughed again. That high-pitched laugh was getting on Marna’s last nerve. “That’s like throwing a child into a pool of sharks.”

Marna felt the now familiar pulse of fire push through her body. She lifted her hands and hoped the flames wouldn’t desert her again. Only one way to find out.

But who was the bigger threat? The demon? Or the shifters? “You’ve been misinformed.” Marna’s voice came out a little shaky. Okay, a lot. Whatever. Do this. “I’m not helpless.”

“Not when you’re standing behind the big, bad shifter.” Jillian smirked. “But what will you do when he’s not there to protect your ass? Can’t fly away.” Her lips pursed in a smirk. “Not anymore.”

One of the panthers growled and swiped out at Marna. Tanner lunged and pulled her back, and his own claws flashed.

He’d need to shift in order to fight the other two panthers. He’d be weak while he shifted.

But not if she was covering his back.

“Run,” Marna told the demon. The woman’s green eyes had faded to black. “This is your only chance.” She was trying to give her a fair warning.

Instead of heeding that warning, Jillian fired on her.

The bullet never hit.

Because in that same instant, Marna lifted her hands and sent out a wall of fire. The fire circled her and Tanner, closing them in—but keeping the others out. The fire raged so hot that the bullet melted, vanishing in the inferno.

Power, pulsing heat, poured from Marna. “I’m not weak!” she screamed. Too many thought of her that way. All the supernaturals who wanted to cut her open and drain her dry. Even all the angels upstairs, the ones who used to whisper about her. The ones who’d thought she wasn’t strong enough to do the job of a death angel.

The panthers jumped back, hissing as they cringed away from the fire.

The demon didn’t move. She would move, though. Marna would make her move.

With a wave of her hand, Marna sent the fire flying toward that demon. But the cop laughed again. The woman tossed her left hand up toward the blaze. “I’ve been playing with fire since I was five years old.”

The flames died before they touched the cop’s skin.

Marna sucked in a deep breath. Okay, so the fire wouldn’t work on the demon. But the shifters couldn’t control the flames.

She lifted her hands toward them, palms out. These two jerks had been in her nightmares because they’d been there that night with Brandt. “The next time a woman is bleeding on the ground”—fury pumped inside of her—“don’t just stand there and laugh.” Fire exploded in two streams. One from her right hand. One from her left. The blazing trails ripped right toward the two shifters.

They jumped back, but the fire singed their fur. Oh, she could do a lot more than just singe them, she could—

“Give her to me,” Jillian yelled. “Stop the bitch’s fire and give her to me, or your brother is dead.”

Wait—what?

She felt Tanner’s start of surprise. The circle of fire around them had vanished, courtesy of that demon.

And now she was talking about Cody? Threatening him?