Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(75)

The Sentinel unfolded the sheet with a frown. “What’s this?”

“The addresses I want you to check out.”

Fane muttered a curse, lifting his head to glare at the assassin.

“There’s over twenty of them.”

Twenty? Serra moved to glance at the paper in Fane’s hand, her heart sinking.

Shit. She’d hoped when Bas had realized it might be a former colleague he would be able to pare down the list to one or two.

“Most we’ll be able to search by just driving by,” Bas assured them.

Serra stepped away from Fane. When she stood too close to the Sentinel her senses were consumed with the heat and scent and sheer power of him.

Nice when they were in bed.

But right now she wanted to concentrate on Bas.

Something had happened.

Something that had him so on edge he couldn’t maintain his magical barriers.

“And the others?” she prompted.

The bronze eyes were carefully guarded. “They will be more difficult to investigate.”

Fane narrowed his gaze. He didn’t have her own psychic abilities, but he was a predator who studied how to read his prey.

He had to be able to sense that Bas was hiding something from them.

“How dangerous are the high-bloods we’re tracking?” he asked.

“A dead Sentinel, although I have serious doubts about him,” Bas readily said. “A mediocre psychic. And a psychotic healer.”

Serra studied the handsome face, wondering if he was trying to be funny.

“A dead Sentinel?”

“We never found the body,” Bas said. “But the man who has contacted me wasn’t trained by monks.”

Fane didn’t miss the small revelation. “You’re sure it’s a male?”

Bas gave a grudging nod. “Yes.”

Serra continued to study the assassin, her senses searching for the cause of his tension.

“Which are you leaning toward?”

His lips twisted with an unmistakable bitterness. “I’m trying to keep an open mind.”

Okay. Enough trying to be subtle.

If there was trouble, she needed to be prepared.

“Something happened.”

The bronze eyes narrowed at the flat certainty in her voice.

“You can read me?”

“I don’t have to. You’re leaking.”

Genuine indignation touched the lean face. “Leaking?”

Fane snorted. “You really have to stop using that word, milaya.”

She rolled her eyes. Good God. She hated the word as much as anyone, but right now she didn’t give a shit about political correctness.

“Your emotions aren’t fully shielded,” she clarified. “I can sense you’re upset.” She hesitated, hit by a sudden surge of emotion from the assassin. A chill inched down her spine. “And frightened.”

Fury flared through his eyes. But it wasn’t directed at Serra. At least not this time.

“I was allowed a brief conversation with my daughter.”

Serra’s heart missed a beat. “Was she hurt?”

“No. But the warning was clear. Time is running out,” he said, his voice coated in ice. Not that it disguised the emotions stewing just below the surface. Abruptly, he turned back toward the door. “We have to go.”

“Not yet.” Fane stepped next to Serra. “Serra needs breakfast.”

She lightly touched his arm. “It doesn’t matter, Fane.”

“It does.” He sent her an impatient glance. “You haven’t eaten in hours.”

Bas turned back, the air sizzling with the emotions he could no longer contain.

“Have you forgotten I’m not the only one on the clock?” he rasped. “Serra—”

His taunt was cut short as Fane had him slammed against the wall, pressing an arm against the assassin’s throat.

“Remind me again and I’ll slice out your tongue.”

The bronze eyes shimmered, as if the idiot was happy that he’d at last provoked Fane into a physical retaliation.

“Careful, Sentinel,” he mocked. “You need me alive.”

Fane’s face was stripped of emotion, his body poised for violence.

“You’re a fool if you believe I won’t destroy you and everything you value to protect her.”

Bas shoved at Fane’s chest. “Do you think I feel any different about my daughter?”

Serra hissed in annoyance, not sure who was pissing her off more.

Bas for being a jerkwad. Or Fane for rising to the bait.

“Can you men measure the size of your dicks later?” she snapped, moving to glare into Fane’s startled gaze. “There’s a little girl out there who’s depending on us to rescue her.”

Both men grimaced, but it was Bas who answered. “She’s right.”

“Of course I’m right.” She stepped back, her chin high. “I’m a woman.”

Slowly Fane lowered his arm, allowing Bas to straighten from the wall.

The assassin carefully straightened his thousand dollar suit, at the same time reconstructing his shields.

Once they were in place he sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“I know a place that serves the best chicken and waffles in town. It’s on our way to the first location.” He sent Fane a tight smile. “Satisfied?”