Avenging Angel (The Fallen 4)
Page 46Russell glanced over his shoulder once more, just to make sure he wasn’t being hunted.
Fuckin’ bastard.
Well, he was done with this town. Done with the captain. She thought that she had him by the balls because she knew about all the bodies he had buried? Screw her. He wasn’t gonna be her attack dog anymore.
Not a damn dog. He was a panther. He was strong. He was—
“Going somewhere?” the captain’s voice asked.
Russell froze. The captain sauntered from the trees, not a trace of blood on her. Her eyes were glassy, her smile too big.
But—“You were still back there . . .” Wait, no way could she run as fast as he could. Demons couldn’t run that fast.
The captain kept heading toward him. Nice and slow. He knew her, would recognize her anywhere. Hell, he’d f**ked her enough times to recognize her body and yet—
Russell inhaled. His claws flashed out. In an instant, he lunged forward and shoved them deep into her chest. “You aren’t her.” Because whoever the hell this was . . . she didn’t smell like Jillian. Not like ashes and sex.
Her head slammed into his, and he stumbled back at the power of the blow as he yanked his claws free.
“Wrong move,” she whispered.
He kept his claws up. Claws were a shifter’s best weapon. Claws could take out anyone—or anything. Even those f**kin’ angels. “Who the hell are you?” Wearing Jillian’s face but . . .
Scents never lied.
Jillian’s features faded away, and Russell realized he was staring at Death.
“I’m the one who’s taking you to hell.”
Russell opened his mouth to scream, but it was too late. Death leapt forward and touched him.
But he screamed in agony as his claws and hands were slashed away. Screamed and fought . . .
Death didn’t come instantly.
And soon he was begging—begging until his heart finally stopped.
CHAPTER TWELVE
He couldn’t stop the fury.
Tanner paced the close confines of the cabin, an out-of-season spot that he’d known would be empty. Just waiting for them to use as a shelter—and safe house.
Going back to his place in the city sure wasn’t an option. Not with every supernatural in the area jonesing for Marna’s blood.
Blood I took.
Blood wasn’t supposed to taste sweet. Hers had. Hers had poured into his mouth, rich with so much power and magic. He’d felt the surge in his own body as he began to heal, as his torn heart mended—all from just a few drops of her blood.
No wonder the others were after her. If that was what a few drops could do, what would happen with more?
Power.
He turned and raked his claws across the wall, leaving deep impressions in the wood.
“The owners are sure going to be angry once they get back and see the . . . ah . . . new decorations you’ve made.” Marna’s voice. Marna’s scent. Too close. Driving him wild.
Want.
He didn’t turn to face her. “You should go back downstairs.” With Cody. Where it was safe. Where she wasn’t in danger of getting seriously f**ked in the next five seconds.
Right. Because that was what she did. Because she was so good.
While he was the big, bad beast, too eager to gobble her up.
Maybe it was time she started to see him for what he really was, not just what he kept telling her he could be. How many times have I lied to her?
He’d promised he wasn’t like his brother Brandt. Promised he wasn’t evil.
’Cause if you said something enough, wasn’t that supposed to make it true?
Not for him. Never for him.
Once she learned what he truly was like, then she wouldn’t sacrifice for him anymore. Wouldn’t offer up her blood and make him . . . want so much more.
She’d held tight to him while they ran through the swamp. They’d found the truck Cody had hidden, hightailed it out of there, and managed to get to this old place under the growing darkness. Good thing he and his brother knew all the secrets of the swamp.
They knew the best places to hide and lick their wounds.
I’d rather lick her.
The floor creaked beneath her feet. She was coming toward him. “Stop.”
The creaking paused.
Tanner glanced down at his chest. He’d always been a fast healer, but this—this was crazy. He’d been stabbed in the chest. That knife had hit his heart. Yet he was still standing.
Not just because of his panther, though, hell yeah, the beast had been what kept him going when that knife first plunged into him. A human would have died instantly. Good thing shifters had more fight in ’em than that.
The skin over his heart was red now, still mending. He was alive—because of her.
His c**k shoved against the front of his jeans. Since he was used to Tanner shifting and hunting, Cody kept backup clothes for him in the truck. His brother had given him these faded jeans, but the denim did little to hide his arousal from her.
I could f**king eat her alive.
Not safe. Not normal. The lust he felt for her was raging out of control.
A woman like her needed control. Gentleness. Sweet promises in the dark.
He couldn’t give her anything but fire and fury right then.
The floor creaked, and his shoulders tensed. Another slow creak followed a few seconds later.
She wasn’t walking toward the door. His eyes closed. The panther roared inside of him.
She was coming to Tanner.
Then he felt the light feather of her lips on his bare back. Pressing against his old scars. Kissing him with such gentleness.
He was too far gone for that. Too. Far.
Tanner spun around, lifted her up, and in two steps, he had her on the bed. “Told you. Warned you,” he growled, and his mouth took hers. A red haze of lust seemed to surround him. His tongue pushed into her mouth, driving deep, even as his hands caught hers and locked them together over her head.
He’d given her gentleness before. Maybe, later, she’d remember that.
His kiss grew rougher, harder, more demanding.
He locked his left hand around her wrists, and his right hand pushed between their bodies. He yanked up her shirt and pushed his hand under her bra. Her nipple was tight, pebble hard, and he had to taste it, too.
Tanner tore his mouth from hers. He unhooked her bra and threw it to the floor. Then he took her breast. Tanner sucked it deep into his mouth and scored her flesh with his teeth.