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Angel in Chains

Page 35


The witch inclined her head. “Angels are harder to read, they take a whole lot of power, but humans, ah, humans I get right every time.” And her hand fell away from Az.

Good move, but . . . “I’m not bleeding for you.” They were wasting time with this talk. She’d come to the voodoo shop for one reason—weapons. Tanner had promised Jade that he could give her what she needed.

No way am I going into an ambush without power.

But Tanner wasn’t speaking, and Az—well, at least he’d managed to look away from the mirror.

“Sooner or later, you will bleed.” Heather seemed absolutely confident. The red had begun to fade from her cheeks so the woman must have been getting her control back.

The crazy witch could be as confident as she wanted to be. But Jade was getting out of there. The incense in the place was driving her crazy and making her temples pound.

“Give us the weapons,” Jade said, “and then we’ll get out of here.”

“You don’t need to leave.” Tanner frowned at her. “This place is safe. You can stay here until our meeting at dawn.”

Jade didn’t want to stay there, but Az was nodding. What? Since when was he game-on for trusting these two?

“There’s a room you can use upstairs,” Heather said with an airy wave of her hand. “Get some rest, and we’ll make sure that you stay safe.”

She’d make sure, huh? “Why doesn’t that reassure me?” Jade muttered.

“Because you expect everyone to betray you.” Heather’s instant answer. “Most of the time, you’re right. This time, you’re wrong.”

Doubtful. “You already betrayed Az.”

“To save others.”

So she said. Because he was the evil angel.

“This is personal.” The witch’s voice had softened. “Brandt took away something very precious to me.” Her hands fisted. “Now I want to take everything away from him.”

Join the club. “I’m not here to trade sob stories with you, lady.”

Heather stiffened.

“I want weapons.” That had been the deal. Az might be able to kill with a touch—still scary—but she didn’t have that super skill, and regular bullets just weren’t going to cut it for her.

“Of course.” Heather strolled toward a heavy, wooden cabinet. She swung open the doors.

Wow.

Dozens of weapons gleamed back at Jade. Knives. Guns. Bullets. Even what looked like an old broadsword.

“Will you feel better if you’re armed with silver?” Heather’s voice held only mild curiosity.

“Yeah, I will.” Lots better.

“But we’d feel even better,” Az said, finally speaking, “if we have more of these.” Then Az pulled out a bullet from his pocket. Because of its color, she recognized it instantly. It was the same bullet that Jade had dug out of his back.

She hadn’t even realized he’d retrieved it from the nightstand back at the cabin. Tricky angel.

The witch glanced at the bullet, and Jade saw the slight widening of her eyes. Such a faint movement, and Heather recovered quickly.

The witch reached for the bullet. She lifted it toward the light. Tested its weight. “This isn’t like any bullet I’ve seen before.” She brought it close to her nose and inhaled. “Brimstone.”

Now Jade was the one to stare in surprise. “As in hell and brimstone?”

A nod. Heather’s fingers curled around the bullet. “Let me keep it. I’ll see what I can find and—”

In an instant, Az had the bullet back in his own hand. Sometimes, Jade loved that super speed of his.

“Or not,” Heather finished softly. She smiled. “I’d imagine a bullet like that would be very handy. It could probably take down just about anything.”

Even an angel? If the bullet had hit Az in the heart, would it have killed him?

Enough of this. Jade pushed by the witch and reached for the silver bullets that were calling to her. She loaded them into her gun. Then decided to grab an extra weapon, just in case.

A girl could never be too careful.

“Now go rest,” Tanner said. “Take the room at the top of the stairs. We’ll set up the meeting.”

Her gaze met Az’s.

Trust.

Hell, no, she didn’t have it to give. But Jade nodded and followed Az from the room.

Someone would be dying come dawn. That someone just wouldn’t be her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Az shoved the old wooden door closed, then twisted the lock. The thing was so flimsy that he doubted it would keep anyone out. But then, if anyone came in, he’d be ready for them.

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