Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(105)

Fane placed an arm around her waist, no doubt sensing she was barely keeping herself upright.

“Do you know where it is?” he asked the assassin.

“Yes. Jael took me there one night.” Bas grimaced at the memory. “She hoped that I would have sex with her and her friend.”

Serra wrinkled her nose. She didn’t judge people for what they did behind closed doors. But she knew if Fane asked her to allow another woman into their bed there would be knives and the removing of balls included in her response.

“Did you?” she asked.

Bas scowled, as if offended she would even ask such a question.

“No.”

She snorted at his outrage. “It couldn’t have been your morals that stopped you.”

“I don’t consider sex a spectator sport,” he growled, pulling his phone from his pocket and pushing the speed dial. Within seconds they could hear a male voice through the speaker.

“Tell me you found her,” Kaede breathed, no doubt hiding from the norms who all wanted the opportunity to knock him out.

“Lose your groupies and meet us at the car,” Bas commanded, heading toward the door with decisive movements.

Serra turned to follow him, only to be halted as Fane stepped in front of her, his hands gently cupping her face as he studied her with a stark concern.

“Are you all right?” His thumb brushed her pale cheek.

“Yes.” She managed a smile, knowing he was already trying to find a way to keep her from continuing the search for Molly. “He just stunned me.”

The dark gaze searched her upturned face for any hint she was still in pain, the heat of his skin almost scorching. A sure sign of his agitation despite his grim composure.

“I don’t suppose you’d return to the hotel?”

She hid a smile at his resigned tone. He was learning.

“No, we’re too close now.”

“We don’t know that for certain,” he muttered.

“I feel it,” she said. They weren’t empty words. She could feel a strange buzz that made her adrenaline rush through her body. Of course, it could be the toxin beginning its destructive path to her ultimate death, she wryly acknowledged. “Besides, I want to keep Bas in my sights until he’s removed his freaking spell.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, his body tense with frustration.

“Fine, but—”

“Don’t get killed.” She stroked her fingers down the line of his clenched jaw. “I get it.”

He swooped down to kiss her with a fierce urgency. Then, just as she was swaying against the solid wall of his chest, he was gently pulling away and reaching for his phone.

She frowned as he tapped in a short message and hit SEND. Nervously, she glanced toward Bas as he left the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Marco to return to the lab,” he murmured so softly Serra barely caught the words.

“Why?”

“I intend to make sure the assassin keeps his promise.”

She grabbed his arm, remembering Bas’s conversation with Sandoval.

“Bas said there were spells—”

“There are guardians with him who can get past any magic,” Fane assured her, referring to the tattooed Sentinels like him who were immune to most magic.

“What about the alarms?” she pressed. It was ridiculous to worry about Marco. He was a trained warrior who’d been charging into danger for over a century, but that didn’t keep her from being concerned. “Bas won’t have left it unguarded.”

He sent her a tight smile as he reached into his pocket to pull out the small piece of paper he’d found on Sandoval.

“I have the codes.” Swiftly he typed them into his phone. Then, with a smooth motion he was shoving the paper and his phone back into his pocket, pressing a finger to her lips. “Shh.”

At that precise minute Bas stuck his head back into the room, his expression tight with impatience.

“Are you coming or what?”

Wolfe followed the Mave as she moved to stand near the wagon, taking a position at her side.

This time he was happy to allow her to take the lead. He could fight any norm and most high-bloods, but magic . . .

That was Lana’s area of expertise.

A young female climbed out the back of the wagon, her pale face surrounded by a mop of reddish curls making her appear ridiculously young.

“Stay back,” she called out, her voice not quite steady.

Lana stepped forward, her face calm as she confronted the nervous witch.

“I can help.”

The girl shook her head. “No.”

“Your spell is fracturing.”

“We will repair it after you leave.”

“It’s beyond your ability.” Lana took another step closer, pretending she didn’t hear Wolfe warn her to stay back. “You need my help.”

The young woman licked her lips, her gaze flickering toward Lana’s brilliant emerald witch mark. Even from a distance the female would have to sense Lana’s power.

“Who are you?”

“Your Mave,” Lana said, using a trickle of magic to ensure that her voice carried to the other high-bloods hidden in the wagon.

The girl gave a sharp shake of her head. “Not mine. We don’t accept your authority.”