“Three responders on scene saw that video.”
Tanner glanced back over his shoulder.
“Me,” she said with a shrug and lifted her hand. “Your partner, and a loud-mouthed uniform named Lawson. I think you know him.”
Yeah, he knew the dick.
“Now we just have to convince those two that the footage was fake.”
“And you think that’s gonna be easy?” Lawson had already picked out his cell.
“Easier than letting ’em know that demons are running wild on the streets, yeah.” Her eyes flashed black again. “Because some demons aren’t ready for the truth to be spilled to humans.”
He was guessing that she was one of those demons. Tanner cleared his throat. “Jonathan already knows about the supernaturals.”
Her gaze seemed to chill. “Is that why he was so eager to run off with his gun?”
Tanner hesitated. He didn’t like where this might be going.
“Humans who know the truth can be very, very dangerous,” she said.
Like he had to be told that. “Where is Jonathan?” A chill had settled in his gut.
“He left the crime scene. Raced away right after we rewound the footage some more, and he caught sight of the woman you had with you.”
Oh, hell, no.
The captain shook her head. “I’m not sure where the guy is now, he could be—”
Tanner yanked open the door before she could finish. He rushed out into the bullpen. Slammed right into Lawson.
Lawson grabbed his arms. “Where the hell do you think—”
Tanner tossed him aside. “Not now, asshole. Not now.” He’d been tricked. Jonathan had lured him out, lured him away—
So the guy could go after Marna.
Sonofabitch.
Jonathan was one of the few people in this town who knew about Tanner’s apartment in the city. Since he was Tanner’s partner, he’d needed a list of all Tanner’s residences, in case of an emergency. Does this count as an emergency?
“Stand down, Lawson!” he heard the captain shout behind him.
Then there were gasps. The faintest snick of a safety being released.
Humans wouldn’t have heard that sound.
A shifter wouldn’t have missed it.
“Stand down!” the captain screamed.
Tanner spun and saw that Lawson had taken aim at him. The guy’s gun was shaking, but he said, “A killer’s not just walking away.”
The other cops had frozen. What? Were they just gonna stand there and watch?
Then let’s give them a show.
Tanner leapt forward and yanked the gun right out of Lawson’s hand. He moved so fast, Lawson couldn’t even squeeze the trigger.
Then he turned the weapon right back on the human. “The captain cleared me.” He made sure his voice carried. He wanted everyone in the bullpen to hear this.
“No damn way!” Lawson’s whole body was shaking now. Staring down the barrel of a gun could do that to a guy. “I was there, I saw—”
“What the killer wanted you to see.” The captain’s footsteps rushed toward them. “I had my techs take another look at the video. The video had been altered. One minute—one damn minute—and they knew it wasn’t Detective Chance.”
Tanner slapped the gun down on the nearest desk.
“He’s clear,” the captain’s voice thundered out, “and our job is to find out who the hell is trying to set up one of our own.”
Lawson’s breath heaved out. Tanner saw the fury—the hate—gleaming in his dark eyes. Another day, another time, and he would give the guy the fight he wanted.
Today . . .
I have to get to her.
“Go,” the captain told him with a jerk of her head toward the door. “You have your orders.”
No, he didn’t. But then, he didn’t need orders. He knew how to kill on his own.
He’d learned to kill when he was nine years old. Too young?
Hell, yes.
And the blood was still on his hands.
He rushed for the precinct’s exit. Everyone made sure to get out of his way.
“You can’t run from me!”
The bullet had missed her and slammed into the metal of the fire escape.
She couldn’t run? What did it look like she was doing? Hanging around, waiting to have tea with the trigger-happy idiot?
Marna’s legs raced down the metal stairs.
And he followed right behind her. Fast, so fast for a human.
“I know what you are!”
She jumped to the ground. Staggered. Righted herself and—
He grabbed her.
Very fast for a human.
And to touch her? No, he had no idea of what she was. “You shouldn’t do that,” she whispered.
His breath heaved out. His face had reddened as he gave chase. “I’ve got . . . to know.”
She stared at him with wide eyes while her heart raced. “I don’t want to hurt you.” But she would. Pain was a part of life that she’d grown accustomed to since her fall.
His face—maybe some would have found it handsome, but she thought it looked too soft, too weak, not like Tanner’s fierce features—tightened. “And I don’t want to hurt you. If I had . . .” He lifted the gun in his hand. “I would have aimed better.”
But he’d already shot her once. Was she supposed to forget that? What was a little matter of blood and bullets between not-friends?
His gaze swept over her. “I knew you weren’t dead.”
She didn’t like the way his eyes dipped down her body.
“I thought you’d have wings.”
Her breath seemed to burn in her lungs. Maybe he did know what she was.
He whirled her around. “Shouldn’t you have wings?”
Not if they’d been cut away.
“Doesn’t matter.” He locked a cuff around her wrist. Snapped another around his own.
The human was asking for so much pain.
“There’s someone who wants to see you. You have to come with me.”
No, she didn’t. Marna yanked on her cuff and broke the chain linking it to his. One tug, that was all it took.
She was getting stronger, too.
Time to show the human just how dangerous she could be.
The darkness inside of her, a darkness that she’d always sensed and fought to suppress, seemed to stretch. Filled her.
She smiled at the human and knew he’d never see what was coming for him—not until it was too late.
A fire built inside of her, burning brighter, hotter.
No more.
Time for her to stop being afraid. Time for others to fear her.
CHAPTER NINE
Tanner saw the flames before he saw her. Red, gold, twisting and crackling, the flames rose up around his apartment building.
Humans were out, running, screaming for help.
But Marna just stood in the middle of the flames. What the hell?
“Marna!” He yelled her name but wondered if she could even hear his call over the crackle of the fire. In the distance, he heard the wail of a fire truck’s siren, but this wasn’t a fire that humans could handle.
They couldn’t fight magic.
Marna’s arms were up in the air, and her face—even through the flames he could see the light of power that bathed her features.
“Marna, pull it back!”
The flames flared higher.
Tanner knew he had to go into the fire, for her. Jaw locked, he raced forward and bellowed her name once more.
Just before the flames would have licked over his skin—like it would be the first time he felt that agony—Marna’s head turned and her eyes—dazed, wild—found his.
The fire died away, vanishing in mere seconds and leaving behind only wisps of smoke that drifted into the air.
“T-Tanner?”
The humans had hauled ass, so, luckily, no one was left to see his angel just extinguish those flames with a stray thought.
No one was—
His nostrils flared as he pulled in the scents. The fire had been so strong that he hadn’t even noticed . . .
Jonathan.
His partner lay on the ground near Marna’s feet. Not moving.
Tanner rushed forward. “What did you do?”
She shook her head. Glanced down. Her hands lowered and a loose handcuff banged against her wrist. “He was trying to make me leave with him.”
The sirens were coming closer.
“I wasn’t going to let him hurt me.” A different note had entered her voice now. Harder. Colder. “No one’s going to hurt me again.”
Tanner crouched next to Jonathan. He rolled his partner over and sucked in a breath at the guy’s ashen features.
“He’s still alive,” Marna said. Did she sound disappointed?
His angel?
What was going on?
“Yeah, he’s still alive.” Tanner grabbed Jonathan and tossed the guy over his shoulder. He wasn’t leaving him. Not when he had so many questions for the man. “And we all need to go, now.”
“You’re helping him?” Marna backed up a step. “He—he wanted to hurt me. He tried to take me away.”
“And we’ll find out what the hell he was thinking once we get away from here.” Once they’d gotten out of sight and didn’t have trucks full of firefighters racing toward them.
She drew in a ragged breath. “He wants me dead.”
Not gonna happen.
Tanner stared down at her, willing Marna to trust him. They all needed to leave, but he had to make sure she wasn’t about to unleash hell on them all again.
As he stared at her, Marna’s eyes seemed to darken. The blue deepened. Seemed to almost flash . . . black?
What?
The sirens screamed.
“He said—he said someone was waiting for me.”
Tanner had Jonathan flung over his shoulder. With his other hand, he caught Marna’s hand. Locked his with hers. “Then we’re gonna find that someone.” The same SOB who’d set him up? Who’d set her up?
Time to end this nightmare.
Marna nodded, and her gaze flickered back to blue. He felt the punch in his gut. Angels weren’t supposed to have eyes that looked like a demon’s, were they?
But he didn’t have time to worry about her eyes then. They rushed away from the smoke-filled area. Rounded the corner. Marna climbed into his SUV. Tanner dumped Jonathan into the back.
When he leapt into the front seat, Tanner spared Marna one more glance. Her hands were fisted in front of her. She wasn’t looking at him.
He gunned the engine.
“Something’s wrong.” He almost didn’t catch her whisper. Even with his shifter hearing, it had been hard to hear her. She breathed the words more than said them. “Something’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Her eyes had been black. “Everything’s fine.” They’d find the demon who was setting them both up, and Tanner would end that bastard.
The tires squealed as he raced down the narrow streets.
“I like it too much.”
Another confession that was little more than a breath.
“I’m not supposed to like the fire,” she said softly.
His hands clenched around the wheel.
“I’m not supposed to lust, not supposed to want so badly.”
His gaze cut to her and found her stare on him.
“I’m not supposed to want so badly,” she said again, louder now, “the way I want you.” She swallowed. “The things I want, the things I want to do . . . this isn’t me.”
No, it wasn’t who she’d been, but Tanner realized that Marna was becoming someone else.
Someone stronger.
Someone . . . someone who could be very, very dangerous.
“Tanner, what happens . . .” Now she looked away, staring out at the blur of buildings, and finished. “. . . when an angel goes bad?”
Hell came calling. Tanner knew because he’d seen it happen before. He didn’t want to face that nightmare again.
Tanner dropped his partner in an old chair, then bent to quickly cuff the guy. Tanner made sure that Jonathan was locked up tight in the cuffs, and then he gave the man a good, hard slap.
Jonathan groaned, and his eyes slowly opened. He focused first on Tanner, then on Marna, then his gaze swept around him—and Tanner knew his partner took in every aspect of the old, abandoned warehouse with that sweeping glance.
If you needed a private place to torture or dump a body, Tanner knew this was a perfect spot. No one was around for miles. That meant there was no one to hear the screams.
Not that he expected Jonathan to scream. At least, not right away.
Jonathan jerked at his cuffs. “You really think these are necessary, partner?”
“Was it necessary to cuff me?” Marna demanded, stepping forward.
Tanner wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Easy.” Who would have thought that he’d be the one playing good cop?
Jonathan’s gaze slid over them both. Lingered on the hand Tanner had around Marna. “I thought it would be . . . like that.”
“Watch it,” Tanner advised, voice still mild.
“I mean, why risk everything? Why put your job on the line? Why lie to me? Unless . . . unless you were screwing her.”
Tanner kicked out, sending the wooden chair slamming to the ground. It hit on the side, and Jonathan groaned when his arm rammed into the cement.
“Told you,” Tanner said, “to watch it.” That jerk wasn’t going to slam Marna.
Jonathan looked up at him and his lips tightened. “You think you can keep her? You think there aren’t a dozen paranormals in this town desperate for a chance to get at her?”
“Is that why you were trying to get her?” Tanner demanded as the fury rose inside him. “Were you planning to sell her off to the highest bidder?” Over my cold and dead body.
Marna’s hands pressed against Tanner’s side. “I told you, he said there was someone waiting for me.”
Jonathan shrugged and tried to lever himself off the ground. “What can I say? Angels are in demand.”
Growling, Tanner surged forward and yanked the bastard to his feet. Tanner’s boots kicked away the shattered remains of the chair. “I thought you wanted me to trust you,” Tanner said. Right, he’d known that was bull. Mocking now, he continued, “I thought you wanted to help.”
“I did! Then I realized you weren’t exactly playing on the side of the good guys anymore.” Jonathan didn’t fight Tanner’s hold, but his eyes blazed. “Turning on your own, leaving that poor kid to—”
“That wasn’t me!” Tanner shoved him back. He had to. His claws wanted to break free, and he didn’t want to accidentally behead the guy.
Maybe not so accidentally.
“I saw the video.”
“What you saw . . .” Tanner glanced back at Marna. She watched the human with narrowed eyes. “What you saw was a demon using one hell of a lot of glamour magic. My face, not me.”
Jonathan blinked, and his shoulders seemed to slump. “What? They can . . . they can do that?”
Marna laughed. The sound was bitter, not like her. “If they’re strong enough, they can do almost anything.”
Since Cody was a demon, Tanner had learned early on about the power levels among those beings. Some demons were on the low end of the demon power scale, ranked as ones or twos—pretty much humans with a few extra skills. But, while the majority of the demons running loose on the earth were low-levels, there were some badass demons out there.
Demons who tipped the scales by hitting a power level of nine, or even . . . in the worst case situation, ten.
Level-tens were supposed to be able to bring hell to earth. Literally. To be able to control the minds of humans with barely a thought.
He’d heard rumors of one level-ten in Atlanta. A guy named Niol who could destroy a city block with a wave of his hand.
Just another reason why Tanner
made it a point not to visit that area.
Was he dealing with a level-ten in New Orleans? If so, they could all be screwed.
“I’m supposed to just believe you, right?” Jonathan blasted, face reddening as he pulled against the cuffs again. “You’ve been lying to me for days. You’re hiding a killer and screwing her—”
Tanner punched him. Jonathan slammed back down to the ground once more.
Marna’s breath whispered out in a soft exhale. Tanner caught her hand and rubbed his fingers over the back of her knuckles. He wasn’t just . . . screwing her. If Jonathan said that again, he’d taste some more cement.
Groaning, Jonathan managed to crawl back to his knees.
“I’m not a killer,” Marna said quietly. Then she added, “Not anymore.”
Jonathan’s head lifted, and he stared at her. Tanner didn’t like that look. Too intense. Too dark.
It’s the way I look at her.
Tanner put his body in front of hers. “I lied to you.” Fine, time to clear the air. “But what the hell was I supposed to do? Tell you that the suspect we were bringing in was an angel of death? That you couldn’t touch her, because she might kill you?” Jonathan didn’t need to know that her touch didn’t work anymore.
No one needed to know that fact. If he could keep her safe by making everyone else think that she was too dangerous to be around . . .
I’ll lie my ass off. And he wouldn’t be sorry about it. Hell, he wasn’t ever sorry. Just another line. Another lie.
Cops weren’t supposed to lie.
Killers were.
Some days, it was so hard to be both.
“She can kill with a touch?” Jonathan managed to stand on his feet with only a slight stagger.
“I told you not to touch me,” Marna said as she stepped around Tanner. “You should have listened.”
The lady still wasn’t lying. Maybe he should learn to twist the truth the way she did. Would that make his conscience any cleaner?
“So you did kill those men in that alley.” Jonathan shook his head. “And you did it with just a touch? No drugs. I thought for—”
“I didn’t kill them.” Marna’s voice was fierce.
“You were seen—” Jonathan began.