A bluff. Tanner wasn’t stepping away from her, and Marna knew that he had to realize—

He stiffened. “You bitch.” There was a dark mix of fury and hate in his voice. “I can smell his blood.”

Oh, no. That meant—no bluff.

Then Marna heard it. The sound of thrashing in the bushes. Grunts. Three men burst from the darkness. She recognized Cody’s bloody form instantly. But the others? She’d never seen them before, but with one look, she knew they were shifters. It was rather hard to miss those fangs and claws.

Cody was barely on his feet. Stumbling. Slashes covered most of body. “I didn’t . . . scream,” he managed to say.

No, he hadn’t screamed. She had. She’d screamed, and Tanner had come running to her side. And he’d left Cody alone in the dark.

“My kind have a weakness,” Jillian said with a tsk. “Some of us can’t handle our drugs, and some can’t handle the alcohol. One drunken night, your brother just had to run his mouth in Hell about the pretty little angel his brother was keeping so close.”

That pulse of power began to build within Marna once more. She could feel it, like a surge growing inside of her. If that surge got strong enough, she could blast at the shifters holding Cody. Free him.

One of the shifters sank his claws into Cody’s throat. “One move,” the shifter warned and his eyes were on Marna, “just one, and I rip his throat open.”

Cody moaned, trying to speak.

He couldn’t.

“You know I will, man,” the shifter continued with a grim smile. “Because you f**kin’ know me.”

Marna hadn’t seen this shifter before, but was he also a part of Brandt’s old pack?

“I know you don’t want to screw with me right now,” Tanner said. “Because if you do, Russell, I’ll make you beg for death.”

Russell’s face tightened. “You always thought you were such a badass.” His claws drew more blood from Cody’s throat. “Who’s the f**kin’ badass now?”

“You’ve made the wrong move here,” Tanner snarled.

Marna caught the sweet scent of flowers, and her shoulders stiffened. An angel was there. She hadn’t seen him—or her—yet, but a death angel was on the scene.

Some of them wouldn’t be leaving alive.

What would Tanner do if Cody was the one to die?

The one called Russell could kill Cody long before her fire reached the guy’s flesh.

“Step away from her, Chance. Give us the angel, and you”—Jillian pointed to Cody—“and your brother can both walk away.”

“I’m supposed to buy that?” His voice mocked her. Called her an idiot.

Jillian’s face tensed. “If you don’t, I’m killing him in five . . .” She held up her hand and continued counting. “Four . . .”

Tanner raced forward, but the two shifted panthers at Jillian’s side jumped for him. They met in a tangle of claws and teeth and fury and blood.

“Three . . .”

Jillian’s gaze wasn’t on Tanner. It was on Marna. “Wanna try some of that fire again?” Jillian asked. “Maybe you’ll have better luck this time. Then again, maybe you won’t.”

One of the panthers screamed in pain.

“Two . . .” Jillian inclined her head toward Russell and the guy smiled with sick glee.

Tanner couldn’t save Cody. He was trying. Fighting and clawing, and he had one panther dead on the ground. The beast’s body shifted back to the form of a man, a man whose head was gone from his body. The scent of flowers deepened around Marna.

Death angel. A soul had been claimed. Who’d be next?

Only a second left. Just . . .

“One,” Jillian whispered, and Cody’s eyes fell closed.

“No!” Marna screamed even as Tanner roared his fury.

Tanner lunged forward and sank his claws into the panther’s side.

“Don’t kill him!” Marna yelled.

Jillian smirked. “Why? You gonna trade yourself, angel?”

Marna nodded. She would. Cody had saved her life once. Twice if you counted his deception at the hospital. Tanner had fought for her, over and over. Now it was her turn.

She took a slow step toward Jillian. Then another. Faster now. But she found Tanner in her way. Bleeding. Bruised. With his claws out and his eyes glowing.

“No.” The word was barely human. “You aren’t going with her.”

“Go ahead and rip his throat open, Russell,” Jillian called out. “I can—”