Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(17)

A cold smile stretched the man’s lips. “No, I know that you’re one of the most feared warriors the monks ever trained.”

Fane narrowed his eyes. “Then you know I won’t hesitate to kill you, or anyone else who gets in my way.”

“Not if this female’s continued good health depends on your cooperation,” Bas taunted, grasping Serra by her upper arm and dragging her to his side. “Go, Kaede.”

Serra hissed in outrage, yanking her arm out of his grasp. “Get your hands off me.”

Fane growled low in his throat, the air heating as his anger slipped its leash. “Do you have a death wish?”

“I am a man who is willing to use whatever methods are necessary.” Bas grimaced, indifferent to the fact that Kaede had left the room and he was now alone with one of the most dangerous Sentinels in the world. “Unfortunately.”

“Serra.” Fane held out his hand, his teeth clenching when she hesitated. Goddammit. She was allowing her wounded pride to put her at risk. “Please.”

“Fine.” With an audible huff, she crossed to place her fingers in his hand. “I just want out of here.”

“We’re going,” Fane assured her, his gaze trained on Bas as he took a step backward.

Bas folded his arms over his chest, making no effort to block their exit. “She leaves this building and she dies.”

Fane hesitated. Goddammit. He didn’t like the man’s expression. It said that he knew something that Fane didn’t.

“You can try to stop me,” Fane bluffed.

“I won’t have to.” The bronze gaze rested on Serra’s pale face. “The toxin is already in her system.”

“Toxin?” Serra breathed. “What toxin?”

“It was injected into your system when you touched the locket.”

Serra held up her hand, glaring at the pinprick wound visible on the tip of her finger. “Oh, shit.”

Fane was moving with a blinding speed, grabbing Bas by the throat and lifting him three inches off the ground.

“You bastard,” he rasped. “Give me the antidote.”

“No.”

Fane squeezed his fingers. “Then you’ll die.”

“Wait, Fane.” Serra was abruptly at his side, her heart pounding so loud he could have heard it without his enhanced senses. “What’s the toxin?”

Bas glanced toward her, his face expressionless despite Fane’s crushing grip. “Belladonna.”

Serra frowned. “That’s it?”

They all knew the healers could easily cure her. Bas hissed as Fane’s fingers dug even deeper into his flesh.

“The toxin doesn’t matter,” he choked out. “It’s how it was delivered.”

Fane felt as if he’d just been hit upside the head with a shovel.

Shit. He should have suspected the truth the minute he caught sight of the tattoo of lines on the man’s neck.

Long ago they had represented a kill. Each line equaled one death.

“Assassin,” he muttered, releasing his hold.

Choking the man wasn’t going to force him to reverse his spell. And for now Fane needed the high-blood alive.

He would have to delay his pleasure in ripping out the son of a bitch’s throat until he was certain Serra was out of danger.

“What does that mean?” Serra demanded, trying her best to hide her fear.

Fane moved to stand directly in front of her. It would be easier to lie. To soothe her with a vague assurance that everything would be fine.

But Serra wasn’t a woman who would appreciate his efforts to shield her. Hell, she would accuse him of patronizing her.

She would want the truth.

No matter how painful.

“The toxin has been enhanced by a spell. It’s in your system, waiting for the caster to either release it into your bloodstream or to cleanse it from your body,” he said. “It can’t be removed by anyone but the bastard who cast the original spell.”

Her lips parted, sheer horror darkening her eyes. “Oh my God. Who would use magic like that?”

Fane was one of the few who could answer the question. “Long ago the monks not only trained Sentinels, but they created a small, elite unit that had one purpose.”

Bas smiled. “Death.”

Chapter Five

Serra launched herself forward, slapping Bas’s smug face.

A part of her knew that the blow landed only because he allowed her to hit him. He was bigger, faster, and stronger than she was. But it was still satisfying to feel her palm connecting against his cheek.

“You son of a bitch,” she snarled. “Why?”

He met her accusing gaze. “You know why.”

She did. His daughter had been kidnapped. And to get Molly back he’d been willing to compel her to St. Louis with a spell. And then to ensure her cooperation, he had filled her blood with a deadly toxin.

Fane stepped forward, his face as hard as granite. “Then tell me.”

Bas took a discreet step back. Not out of fear, but simple self-preservation. Fane caused that reaction in most people.

“My daughter has been kidnapped,” the assassin grudgingly confessed. “I want her back.”

Serra tilted her chin. “Remove the toxin and I’ll try.”