Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(106)

Wolfe moved until he was once again at Lana’s side. “That seems to be going around,” he murmured.

She sent him a chiding glance before returning her attention to the wagon.

“I assume you’re referring to the fact that you’ve given your loyalty to Bas?”

The young witch gave a small gasp of shock. “How did you know?”

“I have my spies everywhere,” Lana murmured, digging her elbow into Wolfe’s side when he gave a low snort. “We have to get Anna to a stable location.”

“No.” The woman remained stubborn despite the fear she couldn’t disguise.

Lana curled her hands in fists of annoyance. Clearly she hoped to avoid any further violence, but time was running out on returning the dangerous high-blood to a safe location.

“Do you understand the disruptions she’s already creating?”

“Better than you,” the witch muttered.

“Then you know eventually the humans will come searching for the cause,” Lana retorted, edging her voice with a powerful compulsion. Even Wolfe felt the urge to bow at her feet. “When they find you they’ll kill you.”

The woman gave a small whimper, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Still she struggled to fight against her Mave’s authority.

“All we need is an hour to rest and a new wagon.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Lana snapped. “You can’t believe I will allow you to leave here.”

The girl glanced to the side, as if seeking strength from her fellow traitors.

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to finish my job.”

Lana exchanged a frustrated glance with Wolfe, both of them baffled by the girl’s refusal to accept that she was trapped in a disabled wagon with a high-blood that would soon cause massive chaos.

“Why?” Lana demanded. “Does your employer demand that you give your life to his cause?”

The witch shook her head, her face ashen in the moonlight as she struggled against Lana’s magic.

“I’m not risking my life for Bas,” she hissed. “It’s for Molly.”

“Who?” Lana asked in puzzlement.

“His daughter,” the witch explained. “She was taken from us and the kidnapper demanded Anna in return for keeping her alive.” Genuine grief twisted the youthful features. “She’s only four.”

Well, shit. Wolfe ground his teeth together.

This was a complication they didn’t need.

“Dear God,” Lana breathed, predictably moved by the thought of a little girl in danger. “Who would do such a thing?”

The witch shook her head. “We don’t know.”

Wolfe placed a hand on Lana’s shoulder, speaking directly to her although he allowed his words to carry.

He wanted the witches to know he was running out of patience.

“It doesn’t matter why they have Anna out here. People are going to start to die.”

Lana nodded, shifting her gaze back to the young witch. “He’s right. Let me help.”

“Molly—”

“I swear on my honor that I will do everything in my power and in the power of Valhalla to rescue Molly,” Lana interrupted the protest, her composed authority giving the nervous young witch more assurance than any amount of pleading. “May I approach?”

The female glanced over her shoulder, clearly seeking guidance before turning back to Lana and giving a slow nod of her head.

“Yes.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Serra climbed out of the car and studied the discreet three-storied brick building with a black awning over the front door. There were neatly trimmed shrubs beneath the tinted windows and near the curb stood a doorman along with several young valets, all dressed in black and gold uniforms.

It looked more like a posh hotel than a club.

“This is the place?” she demanded as Bas and Fane joined her.

Bas answered. “Yes.”

She glanced up and down the block situated in an expensive suburb west of the city. They’d driven to the location in record time, all of them aware that the witch would soon discover her partner-in-crime was dead.

If that happened before they could corner her, she might very well disappear.

“Not much of a crowd,” she muttered.

“It’s a private club,” Bas explained, his gaze taking a cautious survey of their surroundings. “Invitation only.”

Fane nodded, as if familiar with such establishments. A subject they would discuss in private. At length.

Serra frowned, realizing she could hear crickets.

Even a private club should have some sign of life, shouldn’t it?

“I don’t understand.” She glanced toward Bas. “Is it a brothel?”

“It’s a sex club.”

She lifted a brow. “What’s the difference?”

“There aren’t any pros here,” Bas explained. “It’s a place where willing participants come to explore their fantasies.”

Serra wrinkled her nose. Public sex with strangers was . . . yeah, not her thing.

“Isn’t that what a bedroom is for?” she muttered.

Bas sent Fane a mocking smile. “Lucky man.”

Fane kept his attention locked on the club, no doubt already having located every hidden guard and surveillance camera placed around the building.