Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(63)

“Soon.” He used his magic to lace his voice with a soothing spell that would ease her fear. “I promise. I just need you to be patient for a little longer.”

She nodded, but her lower lip trembled. “I miss Daisy.”

Bas bit his lip until he could taste the blood. The battered stuffed hippo was now on his bed, a reminder of the child who utterly trusted that he would protect her.

“She’s here waiting for you,” he assured her, keeping his voice light. “Just like I am.”

She managed a tiny nod. “I’m being a good girl.”

His heart twisted at the soft promise. Molly had always been a child too old for her years.

As if she’d been born with a wisdom that she would one day share with the world.

“I know you are, sweetie,” he softly assured her. “I’m so proud of you.”

Without warning the connection was broken and the monitor was consumed with the shadowed form of the kidnapper.

“That’s enough,” the man announced. “Decide. Send me my prize or she dies.”

Bas busted the arm of his chair as he desperately sought to hide his desperation.

“The psychic—”

“Will be taken care of.”

The monitor went black. The connection severed.

“Shit.”

Wolfe was standing in central command, the very heart of Valhalla despite the fact it was nine levels below ground.

Surrounded by three of his most trusted Sentinels, Niko, Arel, and Gideon, he was going over his final instructions when the air was abruptly sucked from the room.

His lips twisted into a wry smile as he turned toward the open door of his office. No surprise the Mave was standing next to his desk, her dark beauty emphasized by the sleeveless yellow sweater she’d matched with a pair of white capris.

With her glossy hair pulled into a braid and her feet encased in a pair of casual sandals, she looked young and deceptively harmless.

An image that had no doubt fooled any number of idiots into underestimating her.

Wolfe wasn’t one of them.

“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me?”

With a haste that made Wolfe smile with wry amusement, the massive warriors scrambled to find some task that would take them to the other side of the long room.

Shoving a weary hand through his hair that he’d left unbound to brush his shoulders, Wolfe walked past the long bank of surveillance equipment. He’d been working nonstop since receiving Fane’s coded message, assigning his duties to his Sentinels to make sure everything ran smoothly during his absence.

Now it was well past midnight and he had less than an hour to finish up his preparation and meet the guardian Sentinel in the chapel so he could be transported by portal.

“Mave,” he murmured, stepping into his office and closing the door behind him.

Instantly he was wrapped in the cool wash of magic and intoxicating female power.

His pulse kicked into overdrive, everything male inside him stirred to full attention.

Including parts that had no business being stirred when they weren’t going to get any satisfaction.

At least not with this woman.

“Do you have a minute to speak with me?”

He hid his grimace. Like it was a choice?

“Of course.” He leaned against the door, folding his arms over his chest covered by a black T-shirt that matched his black jeans and black combat boots. Hey, he was a warrior. He bought clothes that were comfortable, not fashionable. “What do you need?”

“I received your message that you were leaving Valhalla.”

“I shouldn’t be gone for long.” He gave a lift of his shoulder. “A few days at the most.”

“Where are you going?”

He frowned, pulling out his cell phone to reread Fane’s text.

“Woodward, Oklahoma.”

“Is this Sentinel business?”

Wolfe nodded, shoving the phone back in his pocket. “Fane asked me to investigate a series of power outages there.”

The gray eyes narrowed in confusion. The same confusion Wolfe had felt since receiving the message.

“Why would he be interested in power outages hundreds of miles away?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

Her lips parted, but even as he waited for her predictable command to keep her informed, her lips were snapping together and she was pacing toward the glass display case that held his prized samurai swords.

“I think I should come with you,” she at last said.

“No.”

The word escaped his lips before he could call it back. Well, hell. He really was tired, he acknowledged, bracing as his companion turned to glare at him in full Mave-mode.

“You are becoming far too fond of that word.”

He held up a hand, trying to minimize the damage. The last thing he wanted was to provoke her pride.

Like any good leader, Lana was always willing to listen to suggestions from her various advisors. But she didn’t take commands. Not from anyone.

“We don’t know what danger we might be walking into.”

“I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

She was.

She was, indisputably, the most dangerous woman on the face of the earth.

But she’d already hinted at a past connection to the man they believed responsible for Serra’s disappearance from Valhalla. He didn’t want her conflicted emotions compromising her when they didn’t know just how dangerous the mission might be.