They never did.
Yes, the humans would tell stories to explain this night away. And more tourists would come to see the destruction left in his wake.
Sam slung Tanner over his shoulder. Tanner growled and Sam just laughed. “Yeah, you can thank me later,” he said.
Az strode from the rubble. He passed an old, faded statue of an angel. She was looking down at the graves. Sorrow was etched onto her face.
Angels weren’t supposed to feel sorrow.
But they did. They could even regret the loss of a killer’s life.
Can’t . . . change.
Things could have been different for Brandt.
Things will be different for me.
He heard voices then. Excited, high-pitched voices that he knew belonged to humans. The other shifters had long since run away. If they wanted to keep living, they’d keep running.
His gaze met Sam’s, and he nodded. Together, they lunged straight up and over the high stone wall that surrounded the cemetery. When Az’s feet touched down, his knees didn’t buckle. Sam landed beside him a bare second later.
Then they rushed forward together, moving fast into the night. Human eyes couldn’t track them any longer.
And only ash was left in their wake.