Angel in Chains - Page 98/114


“I thought we had a deal!” Tanner shouted as he lunged forward to help his brother.

“We do.” Marna didn’t spare him a glance. “I’m not killing him. I never said anything about not hurting him.” A pause. “Or you.” Her smile held a cruel edge.

An eye for an eye. Angels were too acquainted with the old ways.

“They helped you,” Jade reminded her. “They’re the reason you’re not still lying in a pool of your own blood in the woods. And by the way, Brandt was hunting out in those woods. If he’d found you—instead of them—what do you think would have happened?”

Marna frowned and took a step away from Cody. That small movement was all Tanner needed. He grabbed her hand, twisted her, and then trapped Marna within his embrace.

She screamed.

“Easy,” he said, holding her carefully. “I’m not gonna hurt you, but that’s the brother I actually like.”

She shuddered in his arms.

Az grabbed Bastion’s hand when the angel tried to step by him. “You don’t want to do that.” Az glanced deliberately at Bastion’s dark wings. “Killing a shifter will cost you too much.”

Bastion managed a nod, and Az could see him trying to pull his control back. Az didn’t move, though, not until he was sure no one in that room was about to die.

It took them all a few moments to calm back down. Az did think it was interesting, though, that Marna didn’t once try to use her Death Touch on the shifter. Seemed like a good sign. She bit him, she scratched him, but she didn’t kill him.

Sam shut the door and secured them all in the room.

“Looks like the team’s all here,” Jade murmured. “Well, most of the team. Where’s Seline?”

“Somewhere safe, with a hellhound making sure she stays away from Sunrise.” Sam’s answer was instant. His gaze cut to Bastion. “I wasn’t about to let a Death Angel near her.”

Bastion’s gaze narrowed.

“And I can’t help but wonder . . .” Sam sauntered closer to them. Knowing his brother, Az suspected that Cole was now standing guard outside of the closed door. “Just how many angels does it take in order to stop one hybrid shifter?”

“It only takes one,” Az said, meeting his brother’s gaze. “Because this fight is mine.”

“It never hurts to have backup.”

And it never hurt to protect the man you’d wronged too many times before. “Brandt is mine. I know how to take him down.”

The others weren’t speaking. It was Jade who cleared her throat. “I just . . . need to know.” She looked at Tanner—who was still holding tight to Marna—and Cody. “How’d he wind up being the son of an angel?”

Cody’s lips tightened, then he said, “Our father wanted an unstoppable son. The bastard liked to experiment.”

“No,” Tanner cut through his words, “he liked to think he was God.”

The silence beat heavily in the room.

“What kind of angel was she?” Sam finally asked as his head tilted to the left. Ah . . . Sam would be the one to ask that question. Since Seline had been a hybrid, too, one with a powerful angel side, it made sense that Sam would want to know about the angel type that had created Brandt.

He understood just how dangerous a hybrid like Brandt could be.

“I don’t know,” Tanner said, meeting Sam’s eyes with a level stare. “Brandt is my half-brother. His mother . . . she died before I was born.”

“Killed by father’s tender hands—and claws,” Cody added.

“Huh.” Sam cast his assessing gaze toward Az. “I’m guessing their father’s on the hit list, too?”

“The father’s dead,” Bastion spoke without looking away from Marna. “He was dispatched years ago.”

“By my hand,” Jade told them, voice flat.

“Interesting.” Sam nodded, and Az saw the spark of admiration flare in his eyes. “Some humans can be surprisingly strong.”

“And some angels can be surprisingly weak.” It was Bastion who spoke. “And Lailyn was weak.” He offered his hand to Marna. “We need to leave here. You’re not strong enough for the battle that’s coming.”

Tanner’s arms tightened around her.

“Lailyn?” Az repeated the name. It was familiar. An image of a small, dark-haired, fair-skinned angel flashed through his mind. He hadn’t seen her too much, because she’d been a . . . guardian.