Heaven was as perfect as the humans thought. The floors were lined with gold. The walls made of heavy, white marble. Everything was clean and glistening. No darkness. No evil.
The world below was full of that darkness. So much evil and hate.
“Why would you even want to go back?” Carmella asked, but her voice held no curiosity. Why would it?
“Because I love him.” So simple. Why couldn’t Carmella see that? Marna turned away from her and marched toward the elaborate doors that sealed the room. Those were made of gold, too. Heavy gold that wouldn’t move beneath her touch.
Carmella followed her. “For him . . . for one doomed shifter, you’d trade all that heaven can offer?”
Now Marna stiffened. The doors weren’t budging, and little Ms. Sunshine there needed to watch herself. Marna turned on her heel and eyed the angel. “Tanner isn’t doomed.”
But Carmella nodded. “I’m afraid he is. I’ve watched him. I know what he’s done. All the lives he’s taken.” Carmella seemed to glide toward her. The angel’s voice dropped as she said, “He’s evil, you see.”
“No,” Marna snapped right back, “he’s not.”
Carmella blinked. Was that surprise on her face? “How can you not know? You were with him. You had to sense the darkness he carries.”
“Yes, well . . .” She had. “There’s more to life than a little darkness, okay? People can do some very, very bad things, but still be capable of good, too.” That was the beauty of life. You could find goodness even in . . .
Well, even in hell on earth.
She squared her shoulders. “Tanner isn’t doomed. He has me.” And she’d watch out for him. Just not from a perch on some fluffy white cloud.
Guard what you want the most. “I’ll guard him,” she said, nodding because this was a duty she’d gladly accept, “but I’ll do it from his side.”
Carmella’s eyes widened the smallest bit. “You know what you’re saying . . . ?”
“I’m saying I want to go back to him.”
The angel shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that.” Her white wings skimmed over the golden floor. “To go to earth, to stay down there with him, do you know what you have to do?”
Marna’s gut was tight with fear and dread because, yes, she knew. All angels knew. If you wanted to live with the humans below—or even with a certain sexy shifter—then first you had to kiss your heavenly life good-bye.
You had to fall. “I lost my wings once.” These white wings were so new, she’d barely grown used to the whispery feel of them. “I can lose them again.” She’d survive. No, she’d do more than survive.
She’d be happy.
But first . . . Marna swallowed and realized Carmella was looking at her with emotion now. Finally. And in that stare, Marna saw pity.
“How can you give up so much for one man?”
“It’s not just for him. It’s for me.” For the life she would have. A child. Memories. Laughter. Passion. Now she understood what Bastion had meant. The fall wasn’t just about Tanner. For me.
“You’ll burn for it,” Carmella warned her.
Her chin lifted. “Yes, I will.”
The heavy doors swept open. Her choice had been heard. The howl of the wind filled her ears. Marna closed her eyes as the wind lifted her body. She hoped she didn’t scream. Hoped she could hold back the cries.
But then she started to fall and the fire came at her . . .
Tanner. It was his name that she screamed.
The panther leapt through the window, sending shards of glass flying into the interior of the antebellum home. Not a home in construction like his—one that blazed with glory and wealth. Snarls and roars escaped Tanner as he charged for the stairs—and for the man who was already racing toward him.
“Are you insane?” Sammael demanded, glaring at him and stopping short in the middle of the stairs. “Or do you just have a death wish?”
The panther roared again.
Sam’s mate, the blonde with the eyes that saw too much, rushed up behind him.
Tanner had hunted through the city. Gone into the swamps. Searched every place he could think of, but he hadn’t been able to find Marna. Her scent had faded. She’d just vanished from the face of the earth.
Gone to heaven.
“Shouldn’t an angel be with him?” the blonde asked, peering over Sam’s shoulder. “I mean, there’s something missing from this picture, right?”