Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(22)

He lowered his head, burying his face in her tangle of dark hair. “I need to hold you,” he muttered.

Oh.

Serra briefly allowed herself to savor the strength of his arms as they held her as if he was never, ever going to let her go.

God. It was . . . perfect.

Just as perfect as she’d always fantasized it would be.

His exotic, male scent that teased at her nose. The searing heat of his hands as they pressed against her lower back. The solid thud of his heart beneath her ear.

He was all man. And he made her very glad she was all woman.

The desperate urge to melt against him surged through her. To depend on him to support her, if only for a few minutes.

She released a small sigh. Her hands were already sliding up his chest when she remembered why she felt so damned vulnerable.

Bas, the assassin. Deadly toxin. Kidnapped a little girl.

“No,” she breathed. With a sharp shove, she was out of Fane’s arms, her chin tilted to a defiant angle.

Fane frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I won’t be your damned damsel in distress.”

His eyes narrowed, as if caught off guard by her defiant words. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what I know,” she corrected, wrapping her arms around her waist as her body trembled with an urgent desire to return to his embrace. “You were perfectly content to walk away when I was a capable, independent woman who could be a true partner.”

Something that might have been regret tightened his stark, mesmerizingly beautiful features.

“You could’ve been my partner, but we both know I could never give you what you need.”

“And what’s that?”

“Time . . . attention.” His dark, piercing gaze lowered to her lips before returning to meet her glare. “A life we could build together.”

She snorted. Fane had been using that wearisome excuse to keep her at a distance for years.

“You’re no longer bound to Callie.”

“No, but I am bound to my job,” he stubbornly countered. “It always comes first.”

Serra understood what he was saying.

Many hunter Sentinels had long-term relationships. Some even married. But guardian Sentinels found it much more difficult. They were mystically bound to the high-blood they were protecting with an intimacy that might not be sexual, but was just as intense.

Few partners could bear to see their lovers that closely connected to someone else.

Still, no relationship was perfect. And if she was willing to accept the inevitable strain of being with a guardian, what right did he have to try to convince her that she needed more?

She gave an aggravated shake of her head. What did it matter? That was all in the past.

Fane had made his choice.

Even if her current . . . hmm, her current what? Situation? Difficulties?

Near-death experience?

Whatever.

The fact she was in danger was stirring his need to play knight in shining armor.

“Your problem is that you have a hero complex.”

His jaw tightened, but he met her gaze squarely. “It’s my nature to protect.”

“Well, I don’t want to be your latest victim that needs to be rescued.”

“Serra—”

“Okay, I’m not stupid,” she interrupted his protest. “I know I need your help. But that’s all I want from you.”

His hand lifted, but he dropped it as Serra instinctively stiffened in rejection. “Serra, my decision to leave Valhalla was because I thought it would be better for both of us.”

She pointed a finger directly into her face. “You know what? You don’t get to decide what’s good for me.”

“Fine.” Moving with a speed that she didn’t have a hope in hell of avoiding, Fane lightly grasped her wrist, his thumb skimming over the pulse thundering beneath its skin. “Tell me how Bas managed to poison you.”

Serra blinked, unprepared for his abrupt change of subject. Or maybe she was just so unbalanced by the light caress of his thumb that she couldn’t force herself to knock it away.

“It was in the locket that was left in front of my door.”

She could sense Fane’s surprise. “It was hand-delivered?”

She nodded. “By Bas.”

“He got into and out of Valhalla unnoticed?”

“So it would seem,” she said dryly.

The dark eyes flashed with fury. “Damn. Wolfe needs to examine our security system.”

Serra desperately tried to ignore the searing heat of his fingers as they stroked slowly up her bare forearm. Was he deliberately trying to set her blood on fire? Or was it just an unconscious desire to offer comfort?

Either way it was sending tiny jolts of renegade pleasure through her body.

She sucked in a deep breath, needing a distraction.

“Have you ever met an assassin?”

“When I was still in training.” Seemingly unaware of her intense response to his touch, Fane allowed his fingers to drift back down to her wrist. “He was brought to the monastery when one of the monks was found dead in his bed.”

She lifted her brows. The murder of a monk must have caused a shockwave through the high-blood community.

“The assassin tracked down his killer?”