Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(67)

Tanner had saved him more times than Cody could count. And Cody would not fail him now.

He could do this. He could find the other freak and—

A footstep shuffled lightly behind him. Cody spun around. He didn’t have senses as strong as a regular shifter. Another f*cking failure. He’d been caught unaware too many times before.

But no one was there.

His gaze swept the alley. Left to right. In the distance, he could hear the sound of laughter. Catcalls. Drunken voices. He wasn’t headed to Bourbon Street. The crowd he looked for would be hiding in the deeper parts of the city. The darker parts that humans always stayed away from, as if sensing the danger.

Some animal instincts existed even within pureblood humans. Smart humans didn’t ignore those instincts.

He turned around, hunched his shoulders, and picked up his pace. He’d search as many demon bars as he could. Money talked in this town, and thanks to that angel blood, he had plenty of cash.

If there was another freak out there, he’d find him.

Cody rounded the corner. He had to cross through another dark, tight stretch of alley space. Then he’d be at the first bar. Maybe he’d get lucky, maybe—

The whisper of a footstep behind him had Cody tensing. He whirled around.

Not alone this time.

A figure stepped from the shadows. A figure with hulking shoulders. Matted, dark hair, and a face that still chased Cody in his nightmares.

“Hello, son,” his father said, as he raised a claw-tipped hand. “It’s been too long.”





Tanner stared at Sammael, body tensed. The Fallen looked too confident. Far too cocky. He’d never trusted this guy—because Tanner wasn’t an idiot.

And now Sammael—Sam—was smiling at Marna.

“Her blue eyes are so pretty, aren’t they? It would seem that most angels have blue eyes.” Sam tapped his chin. “That’s a lie of course.”

“Angels can’t lie—” Marna began.

But Sam just laughed. “When the emotions get strong enough, when you lose that last thread of control inside yourself, the glamour that’s been in place since the moment you were created will falter. Your shifter . . .” Sam waved toward Tanner. “He’ll look into your eyes and see the darkness that all angels try so hard to hide.”

But Tanner wasn’t looking into Marna’s eyes. He was staring at Sam, and as he stared, Sam’s eyes began to darken. Dark. Darker. Until . . .

They were as black as a demon’s eyes.

“The apple really doesn’t fall so far from the poisoned tree,” Sam murmured.

Seline frowned at him. “Sam, we’ve been over this. You aren’t evil.”

He brought her hand to his lips. “Right. I’m just not good, either.” He entwined his fingers with hers. “Most angels are like me, a mix of the two. So much power, bottled up inside, waiting to explode.”

The more Tanner learned about angels, the less he liked. Weren’t there already enough monsters in the world? Monsters like me.

Couldn’t the angels have just been the good guys, for once? He had to kick vampire ass. Demon ass. Now angel ass? There were so many jerks to get in line to meet his claws.

“Different demons have different powers,” Tanner said, trying to puzzle this mess out. “My brother . . .”

Sam leaned forward. “Yes, let’s hear more about him. I’ve been so curious.” A dangerous edge had entered his voice. “Three brothers. One half angel. One half demon. And then there’s . . . you.”

Tanner straightened his shoulders. “You stay the hell away from my brother, understand?”

Sam didn’t appear intimidated. He would be—once Tanner had his claws at the guy’s neck.

It was Seline who delicately cleared her throat. “Ah, Marna, perhaps you should stop thinking so much about demons. They’re really not all bad, you know.”

Since she was half-demon, Tanner figured the lady was speaking from experience.

“Just as angels aren’t all good,” Marna said, speaking from her experience. “I know that . . . now.”

“Fast learner,” Sam acknowledged with a sly half-grin.

Marna shook her head. “No. If I was, I’d be able to kill by now.” Her hands had clenched into fists. “Instead, I’m helpless when demons attack.”

Sam rose slowly and stalked toward her. Tanner tensed, ready to go at him—

“Keep those claws away from me, panther.” Sam’s flat order. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

“You damn well aren’t.”

Sam reached for Marna’s clenched hands. He lifted them. Held them cradled within his palms.

The panther began to growl.

“We don’t lose the power of the Death Touch when we fall. The power is still there. It comes back to each angel of death. It just comes back at different times.”

“And I’m supposed to do what?” Marna asked. “Wait? Hide?”

He shook his head. “Fight. It’s only when you pull forth the fury inside that you can ignite the Touch.” His fingers tightened around hers. “It’s simple, little angel. You just have to want to kill badly enough. When you want death more than you want life, that Touch will be there for you again.”