Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(59)

Her throat was dry. Probably from all the screaming and panting and moaning. How was she supposed to face Cody again? He would’ve heard everything.

Shame was a new emotion for her, too.

But she didn’t feel that shameful. Actually, she couldn’t wait to scream again.

“Marna.”

Oh, right. He was talking about her blood. “It seems like everyone else wants my blood.” Everyone but him. “Everywhere we turn, people are hunting us.” Not us, really, more her. And she’d dragged him into her battles.

“No one else gets so much as a drop.” His gaze held hers with its stark intensity. “No vamps. No demons. No one.”

It wasn’t exactly like she enjoyed being a walking, talking blood bank. But somehow, the supernaturals knew that she wasn’t like the other angels of death. She couldn’t kill them with a touch, not like Sammael could. No one ever went after him looking for a blood donation. They were too smart for that move.

They knew that if they went after Sammael, he’d destroy them.

Why couldn’t she get a badass reputation like that?

Maybe because you aren’t badass. A whisper from her mind. But she was trying to be. She would be. Getting picked off and drained wasn’t an option for her. She wanted more. She’d fight for her life.

And for Tanner.

“Your blood’s addictive. Nothing should taste so sweet.”

Okay, now that was scary. No one had ever told her that an angel’s blood was sweet.

“Like candy and power. And you can’t let anyone have it again. If you do . . .” He exhaled on a rough sigh. “I’ll have to kill them.”

So, what, there was no in-between land? Just straight up go for the kill? Wasn’t the shifter missing a big point there? “You know, you could try saying thank you. In case you didn’t notice, my ‘candy and power’ blood saved your hide back there.” Then she rolled away from him, pulling the sheets with her and wrapping them around her body.

Oh, wait. Angel. Maybe she couldn’t kill, but she could still conjure clothes. She dropped the sheet, waved her hand and had jeans and a T-shirt back on in an instant. Then Marna headed for the door.

Before she could yank it open and continue what was really a rather nice stalking-out scene, Tanner’s hand slammed against the wood. His grip kept the door shut while caging her between the escape and his body. His naked body. If only shifters could conjure, too.

“Thank you.” He whispered the words against her ear and a shiver worked over her body.

“You’re . . . ah . . . welcome.”

His voice hadn’t been arrogant or cocky. Just soft. Sincere.

Slowly, carefully, Tanner turned her to face him. “Power is addictive.”

So she’d always been told.

“My father . . . that bastard wanted to take as much power as he could get. He didn’t care who he hurt. He took and he took until nothing was left.”

Marna didn’t speak.

“That’s what he did to my mother.” He exhaled heavily and moved away from her. She watched in silence as he found his jeans, jerked them on, then paced to the small window that overlooked the swamp. “She was just part of his collection.”

“Collection?” She didn’t understand. People weren’t collections. They were . . . people.

His shoulders tensed. “He wanted to create the perfect son. One who’d be near indestructible, all powerful, and able to rule for as far as that dead old bastard could see.”

Marna wanted to go to him because she could hear the thread of pain in his voice, but she didn’t move.

“You already know about Brandt.”

Like she could forget the shifter who’d sliced her and left her screaming in pain. Tanner’s brother Brandt had been a dangerous hybrid. Half shifter, half angel.

“Brandt’s mother was a guardian, and some dumbass upstairs gave her the job of watching after my father.”

Many of her kind thought the guardians were the lucky ones. They never had to ferry souls. Just watch. Protect.

But guardians were the ones most likely to choose falling. They were so close to humans, day in and day out. Proximity led to temptation. That temptation had been too much for many.

Like Brandt’s mom.

“He got her pregnant because he thought a child with an angel’s strength would be his perfect weapon. But after he had Brandt, he didn’t need her anymore.”

She already knew how this story ended. “He killed her.”

“Just like he killed my mom. Only . . .” His hand lifted, pressed against the pane of glass, then clenched into a fist. “He killed my mom because she was ‘a disappointment,’ ” he said, his voice deepening to a growl. “ ‘A waste of time.’ Those were his f*cking words to me when I found her body. He kept her around longer than he did Brandt’s mother, but after a while, he said her powers were useless to him. That meant she was useless.”

An ache lodged in her chest. “Humans don’t have powers.”

Tanner glanced back at her. “Some do. My mom, Katherine, she was . . . special.”

Special. Psychic. Yes, she’d seen a handful of humans with those gifts. The other angels had said those mortals were touched. Favored.

To her, it had seemed as if they were cursed.