The wolf growled, lips peeling back from canine teeth. “Annabe—”
“Forget her,” Custo interrupted over his shoulder. “I’ve already had her anyway. Find yourself a more faithful mate.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Annabella said as Custo delivered her to Adam’s hands and left her without a backward glance—better that way—to approach the beast.
“I want her power,” the wolf answered.
Custo shrugged. “Release her, and you can have mine.”
Chapter Twenty-One
ANNABELLA twisted and yanked her arm out of Adam’s vise grip. She caught the glances he exchanged with Luca. They were up to something, and since no one saw fit to clue her in, the plan was probably very, very bad. She couldn’t hear clearly, but Custo had offered something cryptic to the wolf, which the wolf seemed to understand and be considering.
Whatever it was, the answer was, “No!”
Custo turned back. “Baby, trust me, it was meant to be this way.”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me!” Annabella yelled. She wasn’t a child. “Stand by me. Fight with me.”
She really didn’t think she could handle this if he weren’t by her side, and she couldn’t believe he was pulling this macho crap on her now. Actually, she could believe it. This pigheaded behavior was just like him.
Custo murmured to the wolf. “Yes, they’ll try to stop you, but my body will heal on its own if you can get away.”
“You’re suggesting that I possess an angel?” The wolf grinned, toothy and cruel.
Annabella’s heart stopped beating. She should have known Custo would attempt a stupid but impossibly sweet thing like that. Trade himself for her.
But what then? They’d still have a power-hungry, crazy-ass wolf on the loose, just inside an impossibly gorgeous body. And as far as she knew, they didn’t have a way to restore Custo afterward, unless the angels and their Order had some extra power no one had shared with her.
Movement caught her eye: Adam flicking his fingers. A signal, but to whom? For what?
Annabella scanned the area, saw the black tip of a rifle braced on white stone. And ten feet away, another weapon came up, carefully aiming at the wolf and Custo. A third soldier knocked the decaying remains of a wraith off a wall and took up position.
They better be careful where they fire, because even though Custo could heal supernaturally well, he could still be…
The plan became clear, and as she’d suspected it was stupid and horrible and she didn’t want any part of it: The wolf would possess Custo, an angel, and therefore an offer way better than her comparatively frail body. The wolf would take his chances with the guns for this perfected form, while Adam shot his friend in cold blood in an attempt to kill the monster. A gamble on both sides.
‘Kay. Now she was pissed.
Annabella whirled back to the wolf and Custo, but it seemed they’d already come to an agreement.
The wolf spread his fingers toward her, and the marionette strings that had been tugging relentlessly at her limbs and mind released. The Shadow within her fell away like a breath exhaled, leaving her raw and sore, and heavier than ever.
She pushed away her exhaustion; the show wasn’t over yet.
“Stop!” Annabella yelled, lurching toward the wolf and Custo to prevent whatever insanity Custo had proposed.
But it was too late. As she lunged toward them, Custo took a simple step forward, and absorbed the wolf.
At once the day dimmed, clouds boiling out of the blue and grumbling over the sky. The edges of the world became grittier, its sounds harsher. The air grew sullen and bitter to the tongue.
Annabella cast her weight forward as Custo whipped around. Black bled through the mossy green of his eyes, obscuring the color. The veins in his neck, forearms, and the backs of his hands darkened, as if his heart now pumped Shadow. His expression took on a mask of barely controlled rage.
“Stay back,” he said, his voice a low rumble of effort.
She dodged his outstretched arms and wrapped herself around him anyway, gripping her wrists around his back so she couldn’t be shaken off. If Adam’s men were going to shoot, they’d have to shoot her first. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“I can’t fight him long,” Custo ground out, his cruel hands prying at her wrists.
“You should have thought of that before,” Annabella answered, holding on tight to spite him. A sob formed in her throat, but she swallowed it back. She could cry later. “How dare you change places with me? It’s not right. Everyone here knows it’s not right.”
“Adam!” Custo called. “Take her! Please!”
In her arms, Custo was changing, his chest broadening. His breath came in labored pants.
Two Segue soldiers crouch-walked into position at Custo’s back, guns trained on him. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Luca holding a long blue blade.
Even the angels were against them.
“Annabella, I don’t want to hurt you.” Custo sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth.
“You won’t,” she answered back. “You love me.”
“I do, but the wolf wants you”—Custo shuddered—“bad.”
“Sucks to be him.”
“This is the only way,” Custo said. His voice had taken on a disturbing bestial roll, but she wasn’t giving up.
“Listen to me, Custo,” Annabella said. “I don’t want you to die for me. What kind of crappy gesture is that for someone you love?” The worst.
“Annabella…” Bones cracked in his shoulders.
“Besides, you already died for someone once,” she continued, “and look how that turned out.”
He growled in her ear, breath hot on her neck.
“Try something different.” Her sob broke free anyway, and she spoke through her tears. “Live.”
Custo gripped Annabella’s wrists so tightly the bones moved. She squeaked, but she wouldn’t let go. Twining voices filled his head, but they couldn’t agree:
Where was Adam when he needed him?
Annabella raised her face, expression stubborn. The blue was back in her irises, her skin clear and perfect. She was normal and whole again.
She returned his scrutiny. “Not your best look,” she said.
In the glass storefront across the street, he was unrecognizable. His bones had altered to accommodate more muscle and tough flesh. His cheekbones were prominent, eyes wider, blacker, deeper. Shadow pulsed through his veins and sparked along his nerves. The power surging within him was thrilling, giddy, and slick.
Custo turned slowly, assessing the street. Soldiers crouched in a wide circle around him, poised to shoot. Luca’s knuckles were white with his grip on the sword. Shadowman’s disinterest had given way to pity.
Adam’s gun was loose at his side. He’d taken a step toward Annabella, ostensibly to retrieve her, but stopped himself.
“Adam!” Custo shouted.
Adam moved no closer. Made no attempt to rescue Annabella.
Custo looked at the sky for help, but the heavens were closed. The storm above swallowed the tops of buildings and snapped with electricity, agitating the dark boulders of the clouds to knock hollowly into one
