A Gathering of Angels by Cate Dean Read Free Book Online Page B

on to his back. Pain flared at contact with the floor.
    He despised ghosts—their simple presence hit any Jinn with a backwash of heat. A ghost who had power in life could become a real menace.
    Footsteps pounded across the wood floor. Marcus pulled his legs up, not trusting an object the witch could turn back on him. When the first uniform clad leg appeared he kicked out.
    A high-pitched scream bounced off the walls. The man collapsed, the gun that was in his hand skittering across the floor. Marcus lunged before he could recover, leading with his fist. The man’s head snapped back, and he crumpled. His badge caught the fluorescent light, confirmed Marcus’ suspicion. The chief.
    Using the desk, he got to his feet, his back feeling scorched—and froze when he heard the distinctive click of a revolver being cocked.
    “Hands up.” He closed his eyes briefly. He’d forgotten about the lanky female cop. “Now turn around. Slow.”
    Obeying, he faced her. The heavy revolver in her hands shook. “All I want is to take my wife and—”
    “She’s not your wife!” One hand wiped away the sweat on her face, clamped back on the revolver. “I checked the reports. She’s there, all right—listed as Claire Wiche. Single.”
    Marcus had a ready lie. One she would not have time to check. “We were married just before—”
    “Shut up!” Her finger convulsed on the trigger. Marcus stilled. That bullet would be poison for him. Deadly poison. “On the floor. Now!”
    He could sense her panic, knew it took only a small jerk for her to pull the trigger, intentional or not. Slowly, he got to his knees, lowered himself to the floor. Metal pressed into the back of his neck.
    “I should kill you, for daring to harm her.” The voice was different now, colder, the rhythm more affected, no longer the easy drawl. And heat whispered over his bare skin, promising more. “It would be so simple, so satisfying . . .” Her voice faded—and the barrel dug into him. “What are you, heathen? Why can’t I recognize—”
    “Hey.”
    The quiet voice spun her. And Marcus watched Claire smack the revolver out of her hands with something long and black. Without hesitating, Claire swung it back and clipped her jaw. The woman toppled backward.
    “Marcus.” Claire held out her right hand. He pushed himself off the floor, picking up the revolver before he took her hand. “Lea is right behind me. Are you all right?”
    “Better. Why do you ask?”
    “The back of your jacket is scorched.”
    “Courtesy of the chief.” Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Marcus felt the burn that reignited every time his shirt brushed over skin. “What in the gods name did you use to hit her?”
    Claire flashed a smile. “Three-hole punch.”
    Lea appeared behind her, carrying a blanket and a plastic bag. She looked better for what little healing he could offer. Once they found a safe place, he would finish. Then work on Claire, whether she agreed or not.
    He took the hole punch from Claire, surprised by the weight of it, and set it on the desk. “Time for us to be gone.”
    Leaving the cops free went against his better judgment, but he did not think they could afford the time. He led Claire and Lea out to the gravel parking lot—and halted when he saw a metal clamp on the front tire of his rental car.
    “Let me guess,” Claire said, moving to his side. “That’s your car.”
    “What is that monstrosity?”
    “A boot. It’s a portable, effective way to keep you from taking your car—anywhere.” She let out a sigh. “It looks like we’re walking.”
    “This way,” Lea said, and pointed to an unpaved road behind the police station. “Not many locals drive it after dark. No streetlights. As a bonus, I live down this way. If we can make it to my house, we can take my car and get the hell out of here.”
    Marcus looked down at Claire’s bare feet. “You will not get far without shoes—”
    “I’ll be fine. We need to move, Marcus,