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Page 8
In the next instant, Marna charged at them. Proving that she was, indeed, much stronger than she appeared. Because Tanner knew he had to make this look good, he rolled to the ground when the table leg swiped out at him.
Her next hit connected with Jonathan, and the guy finally shut up because she knocked him all the way back into the two-way mirror.
But Jonathan had fast reflexes, for a human, and in the next instant, he had his gun out and aimed right at Marna.
“No!” Tanner bellowed as he lunged toward the other cop.
Too late.
Jonathan fired and the bullet slammed into Marna’s chest.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This wasn’t his plan. Not even damn close. Rage exploded within Tanner, and he drove his fist into Jonathan’s face. This time, when the cop went down, he was unconscious.
“Don’t ever hurt her again,” Tanner snarled, hands still fisted. His claws were coming out, and they were tearing into the flesh of his palms as he kept his hands fisted.
“T-Tanner?”
He stilled. She’d never said his name before. He’d wanted her to, but this way, with pain and fear darkening the word? Hell, no.
In an instant, he was by her side. The bullet wound wouldn’t kill her. It wouldn’t kill her.
He had to keep repeating that mantra to himself because his hands were shaking as he lowered her to the floor.
Angels were tough. They could heal from just about anything.
But her blood was on his hands.
Marna pushed against him. “I-I can—”
Tanner shook his head and forced her to the floor. Other cops were coming toward them. He could hear the rush of their pounding footsteps. This wasn’t his plan, but he could make it work. They had to make it work. “He shot you in the heart.”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s the story we’re telling.” Because if they played this scene right, he’d be able to save her angel ass. “And, baby, a shot to the heart will kill a human. It will put an end to the killer who took out those two men in the alley.”
Understanding filled her blue eyes.
He put his hands over her chest, the better to cover the wound and make it look like he was fighting to save her. “Get an ambulance!” Tanner yelled. “Our suspect is down!”
Then he brought his lips close to her ear. “You have to die, baby.” This was their perfect opportunity to get her free. Because if she wasn’t the killer, then someone very powerful was setting her up. Someone who wanted her face splashed all across the media.
Someone who’d taken her face to commit the murders. Another supernatural.
Marna gave the slightest of nods. His breath expelled in a rush.
Trust. It had to start somewhere. For both of them. Good thing that, unlike angels, shifters could lie. He’d spent most of his life lying.
He stared down at her. Behind him, Jonathan was groaning and trying to rise. He’d deal with that trigger-happy SOB later. For now . . . “She’s bleeding out!”
Other cops raced into the room, but they wouldn’t be able to help her. He’d make sure of that.
Slowly, her eyes began to fall and her breathing slowed. Damn, that woman was a pretty fine actress.
You have to die, baby.
It looked like she was going to do just that.
CHAPTER TWO
Just how long did she have to stay in the morgue? The place reeked of antiseptic and bleach, and Marna was tired of the icy feel of her own skin.
She’d been wheeled down at least thirty minutes ago. Right after she’d been pronounced dead.
A door creaked open. Footsteps thudded toward her. “Marna?”
No mistaking that deep voice. She shoved the sheet aside and leapt off the table. Her clothes—what was left of them—were covered in dried blood.
Tanner’s green gaze swept over her. “You’re looking good, for a dead woman.”
The doctor who’d been so eager to declare her dead stood behind him. The not-so-good doctor glanced nervously over his shoulder and said, “You need to get her out of here, fast.”
She recognized that guy. Like she’d ever be able to forget him or Tanner.
Tall, dark, with a face too much like Tanner’s . . . because he was Tanner’s brother. Cody. That was his name. Only Cody wasn’t a shifter. This guy was a demon doctor. One who’d been ready to lie with no hesitation. Unlike angels, demons always excelled at lying. Maybe because they spent their whole lives hiding what they really were from the rest of the world.
“I wasn’t planning on staying around.” She’d spent more than her share of time with the dead. As an angel of death, the dead had been all she’d known for far too long.