Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(71)

The ice-blue eyes narrowed in shock. “Assassin? Goddammit. This is bad.”

“No shit.”

“What can I do?”

“We were attacked earlier tonight by two humans that we suspect had been spelled to decompose on death.” Fane’s voice was flat. A sure indication he was battling a tidal wave of emotions.

“A witch?”

Fane shrugged. “Perhaps. They also had a mind-stunner. So obviously money is no object. Whoever it is could have paid the witch to perform the spell.”

“Or they could be hired guns who placed the spell on themselves for added security,” Marco suggested. “A client would be more likely to hire assassins who couldn’t be traced.”

Fane nodded. “Good point. Do you have any contacts that would know about professional hit men?”

Hunter Sentinels usually had a network of spies they could tap when they needed info that they couldn’t get by more formal resources.

Like a street cop with confidential informants.

“I have a few I can tap,” Marco assured him. “Anything else?”

“Have the Sentinels scout around the lab,” Fane said, pushing the photos back into Marco’s hand. “If things go to hell we’ll need to be able to get in and use those inside as leverage.” Fane didn’t have to spell out that he didn’t care what methods they had to use to gain that leverage. He was willing to sacrifice anyone and everything to protect his woman. “The bastard is going to remove the poison from Serra one way or another.”

Marco nodded without hesitation. “We’ll be waiting for your signal.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a burner phone and gave it to Fane. “My number is already programmed in. Call me when you want us to move.”

“You got it.”

Marco narrowed his eyes. “Keep her safe, Fane,” the hunter warned. “You aren’t the only one who loves her.”

“I’ll protect her with my life,” Fane assured his fellow Sentinel before turning to head back into the hotel.

He’d left Serra unguarded too long.

He thought he heard Marco warn him to be careful, but he was already focused on making his way back to the hotel suite. Bas’s spy wouldn’t stay asleep for long. The last thing he wanted was the bastard realizing that Fane had the ability to slip in and out when he wanted.

Moving with a stealth that marked him as a Sentinel, he used his key card to unlock the door to his hotel suite and stepped inside. He had closed it silently behind him when a fist connected with his upper arm.

“Damn you,” Serra growled, rearing back her fist for another punch.

Fane gently grasped her hand, pressing it to his lips. She hadn’t hurt him, but he was afraid she might have bruised her knuckles.

“I missed you too,” he murmured.

“How would you like it if I snuck out while you were sleeping?”

He grimaced, his gaze sweeping over her flushed cheeks and the pale green eyes that sparkled with anger. Her hair was disheveled and her lush body covered by a plain hotel robe, but she’d never looked more beautiful.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His thumb brushed her inner wrist, a renegade surge of satisfaction racing through him when he felt her pulse leap at the small caress. “I thought I would return before you woke up.”

She was far from appeased. “So your theory is what I don’t know won’t hurt me?”

Hmm. He hesitated.

“I sense a trap.”

“No more sneaking out.”

“I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. This was exactly why he’d always dreaded becoming involved with this female. His job would always put him in danger. Which meant Serra would spend her life constantly in fear. “I didn’t mean for you to worry.”

She stilled, her anger abruptly melting as she realized that she’d reminded him exactly why he’d kept his distance from her.

“There’s always going to be times when I’m worried,” she said softly. “It’s an unavoidable part of life.”

“Serra—”

“No.” She pressed her fingers against his lips, halting his instinctive concern. “Have you been worried about me?”

Fane frowned at the ridiculous question.

“Christ, of course I’m worried.” His fingers tightened on her wrist, the heat from his body filling the air. “I’ve never been so f*cking scared in my life.”

Her fingers gently traced his lips. “Would it be better for you if I pushed you away so you didn’t have to go through the pain of knowing I’m in danger?”

He hissed as she threw his logic back in his face, the mere thought of being denied the right to protect this female enough to make his blood run cold.

Oh hell, no.

No matter what the fear or pain or even grief he was forced to endure, nothing could be worse than not having a place in her life.

“Don’t,” he muttered.

“Then don’t push me away.”

“I’m trying, milaya moya, but I’m a male. It takes me a while to accept I might be wrong.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t press. He hoped it was because she understood he was truly doing the best he could, but he was betting it was because she wanted to punch him in the face.