Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(10)

It was polished. Discreet. Expensive.

A perfect setting for the elegant CEO of Cavrilo International.

A tall, slender man, Bas Cavrilo had pale, delicately carved features that might have been pretty if not for the hint of ruthlessness in the line of his jaw and the arrogant thrust of his narrow nose. His dark hair was cut short and brushed away from his lean face, emphasizing his light brown eyes and the lush curve of his lips.

Currently attired in a charcoal gray Armani suit, he stood near the window, gazing down at the streets that were nearly empty of traffic.

At five in the morning, most people were still snug in their beds.

At least most normal people were snug in their beds.

But Bas was about as far from normal as you could get.

A humorless smile stretched his lips. The world was slowly beginning to accept the presence of high-bloods. Valhalla could be thanked for that. After centuries of being reviled as monsters, they’d learned the value of a top-notch PR blitz. There was nothing like giving a gloss of exotic mystery to a group of people. And while there would always be people who considered them as “freaks” and “mutants” the humans no longer huddled in fear when they heard a high-blood was near.

Stupid humans.

Valhalla might have given them the image of harmless, law-abiding citizens, but the truth was far less innocent.

No matter how hard the Mave might try to tame them, there were always those high-bloods who refused to be neutered.

Men like him, and those who followed him.

They remained monsters. And were damned proud of the fact.

Of course, he’d learned from the Mave’s success. People were laughably easy to fool. An expensive office, a closet filled with thousand-dollar suits, and a Lamborghini and they were happy to accept that he was just another human businessman.

Hiding in plain sight had proven to be far easier than skulking in the shadows.

Fucking amazing.

On this night, however, he wasn’t savoring his latest success. Or sorting through his files to select a potential client.

He’d been warned his entire life that his sense of superiority would eventually bite him in the ass. And his entire life he’d laughed at the warning.

He wasn’t laughing anymore.

The faint footstep in the outer lobby would have been undetectable to human ears, but Bas was already turned toward the door when it was pushed open and Kaede stepped into the office and crossed to stand directly in front of him.

A slender man with smooth black hair brushing his shoulders and dark eyes, Kaede was built along trim lines with the Asian features of his ancestors. Tonight he was wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans.

To the public he was Bas’s administrative assistant. In truth, he was Bas’s enforcer.

Despite his lack of bulging muscles, Kaede was one of the most lethal killers Bas had ever met.

Ironically, he also happened to be a damned fine administrative assistant.

Organized. Efficient.

Prompt.

“The psychic has reached the outskirts of the city,” the younger man said, bringing the news that Bas had been waiting for. “Do you want her taken into custody?”

Not by the flicker of an eye did he allow his relief to show. He was a leader of thugs, outlaws, and misfits.

The second they sniffed weakness he would be devoured by his own sect.

But he better than anyone knew the thousand things that could have gone wrong.

“No.” He shook his head, his tone low but filled with the authority he’d earned over the past century. “We don’t know if our people are being monitored. The less attention we attract to her arrival the better. Meet her in the underground parking lot and bring her up by the back elevator.”

“You got it.”

Without hesitation his companion began to turn back toward the open door, only to halt when Bas lightly touched his shoulder.

“Kaede.”

The enforcer turned back to meet Bas’s narrowed gaze. “What?”

“She was alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell the watchers to make sure she wasn’t followed.”

Kaede arched a brow. “By who?”

Bas’s humorless laugh bounced off the walls. “A good question, old friend. We seem to be gathering enemies at an alarming rate.”

“No shit.”

They shared a mutual grimace.

Until two days ago their small sect had managed to fly under the radar.

They had their selective clientele, but they went to extreme measures to make sure that they avoided any unwelcome attention.

Now he had his balls in a vise and they were being squeezed so tight he had no choice but to put a target on his back.

“I was referring to our guest’s abrupt departure from Valhalla,” he clarified. He’d done everything in his power to lure Serra from Valhalla without attracting attention, but no plan was perfect. Especially one that had been slapped together in less than an hour. He’d be an idiot not to be prepared for failure. “The Mave isn’t stupid.”

His companion frowned. “If she suspected something was wrong wouldn’t she have stopped the psychic from leaving?”

“Not if she wanted to know who was tampering with her people.” He knew what he’d do. He would use the victim to track down the bastard responsible. “Make sure you scan the psychic and her car for any hidden bugs and disable the GPS.”