Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(70)

Kaede shook his head. “This isn’t about money.”

Bas met the warrior’s steady gaze. “Then what?”

“Sandoval blames you for Jael’s death.”

Chapter Sixteen

Fane slowly opened his eyes, astonished to discover that he’d slept for over four hours.

He could have chalked up the rare occurrence to the heavy toll healing his wounds took on his body. Or even the large meal he’d eaten after his shower to replace his lost blood.

But he knew that the explanation was the warm, lush woman tucked tightly in his arms.

Remaining utterly motionless, Fane savored the rare moment.

Soft silken skin. Lush, womanly curves. Chamomile and moonlight.

Was there anything more intoxicating?

With a soft sigh, Serra turned in his arms, wiggling her perfect ass until it was pressed against his cock.

A cock that was already fully aroused and eager to seek out the moist heat of Serra’s body.

With a low groan, Fane forced himself to loosen his grip on the luscious female and slip silently from the bed.

As much as he wanted to remain in bed, kissing a path down the curve of her spine until she spread her legs in invitation, he had been awakened by a distinctive chirp of his cell phone.

It was a text from Marco, one of the Sentinels Wolfe had sent to St. Louis.

Pulling on a pair of cargo pants that had been sent at the same time as the tux along with a pile of clothing he hadn’t bothered to pull out of the bags, he glanced at his phone.

Heaven

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of Serra’s tousled hair before moving out of the bedroom and across the dark sitting room. He paused at the door, punching a series of numbers into his phone to trigger the tiny device he’d planted when he’d paid a visit to the spy in the hotel suite across the hall.

The device would release an odorless gas that would knock out anyone in the room for a short period of time.

He counted to one hundred, then slowly opened the door, allowing his powers to disrupt any nearby surveillance equipment as he headed toward the back of the hall to the fire escape.

Another burst of power disabled the alarm on the door and he was in the stairwell, heading toward the roof.

Marco’s message HEAVEN had indicated he was waiting for Fane on top of the building.

Pushing open the door that led to the helicopter pad, Fane stepped out of the building. He halted as the warm breeze wrapped around him, absorbing the various scents. He never walked into an unfamiliar place without assuming it was a trap.

Confident that there were no hidden dangers, he walked forward, already prepared when the tall, broad-shouldered male dressed in faded jeans and a black T-shirt stepped out of the shadows.

Even without the tattoos there was no mistake what Marco was.

Hunter.

Predator.

His face was lean with the high, chiseled cheekbones of his Slavic ancestors and a narrow blade of a nose. His black hair was ruthlessly pulled into a braid that hung past his shoulders. His eyes were ice blue and rimmed with indigo, shimmering with a disturbing intelligence in the security lights.

A dragon tattoo circled his neck, hiding the scars from his battle with a crazed group of humans who’d managed to capture him on his way back to his monastery. The bastards had hung Marco from a tree and left him to die. It was rumored it’d taken him over a week to get free.

The fact that the scars had never faded revealed just how close he’d hovered near death.

That kind of experience changed a man.

Made him harder. Grimmer. Unpredictable.

It also made Marco one of the most lethal hunters in Valhalla.

Which was no doubt why Wolfe had sent him.

“You have information?” Fane asked, not bothering with chitchat.

Leaving Serra alone for even a few minutes was scraping against his raw nerves. Besides, Marco wasn’t a chitchat kind of guy.

Marco nodded, shoving a picture of a building into Fane’s hand.

“I followed the secretary from Hull Insurance to this location.”

Fane studied the plain brick structure surrounded by a high fence. He frowned as he read the sign at the front of the building.

“A lab?”

“Doubtful.” Marco shoved another photo into his hand. Fane grimaced as he recognized Bas and Kaede stepping out of the stretch limo. “These men arrived there a few hours ago.”

“Bas.” The name came out as a low growl. “This must be where he keeps his people.”

“I’ve spotted five high-bloods plus these two,” Marco said, his voice low and as rough as gravel. A result of his injuries. “My guess is that there are several more inside.”

“How close did you get?”

“Not close enough.” Marco gave a frustrated shake of his head. “The place is wired like the damned Pentagon. One wrong step and I would have triggered a dozen alarms.”

“Don’t take any chances,” Fane commanded. “I don’t want the bastard knowing we’ve found his bat-cave.”

Marco nodded, planting his hands on his hips. “I want to take Serra out of here.”

Fane grimaced. “Not right now.”

The older man scowled. “Dammit, Fane, she’s obviously in danger. I could sneak her—”

“No,” Fane said, sharply shutting down the suggestion. He didn’t want any of his brothers making the mistake that they could solve the situation by “rescuing” Serra or killing Bas. “She’s been poisoned by the assassin. Only he can remove the toxin.”