Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(78)

Lana looked concerned. “Has it grown worse?”

“No. The opposite, in fact.”

Wolfe wanted to believe that was good news, but the tension in the air only thickened.

“What does that mean?” he at last asked.

“The electricity has been restored to a few neighborhoods in Woodward,” the abbot explained.

Wolfe met Lana’s troubled gaze, immediately realizing what had happened.

“She’s on the move,” Lana breathed.

Chapter Eighteen

Serra shifted on the leather seat. After two hours of driving around the city of St. Louis her ass had fallen asleep. And worse, her brain was fried from the tidal wave of thoughts and emotions that had been bombarding her since leaving the hotel.

Thankfully, Fane had been seated beside her in the backseat of the black Mercedes with Bas in front driving. The Sentinel’s ability to help her block out the background noise was the only reason she wasn’t a babbling idiot by now.

Lifting a hand to rub her aching temple, Serra frowned as Bas turned off the main road and headed into an abandoned industrial complex. Then, pointing his phone toward an approaching warehouse, Bas slowed the car as a large steel door slowly lifted so they could pull inside.

They came to a halt in the center of the empty building.

“Why are we stopping?” Serra demanded.

She just wanted to be done so she could return to the hotel. Or even better, drive far enough from the city that she could find some peace.

“The other addresses you’ll have to enter to fully search,” Bas explained, shoving open the door of the car and stepping out. “I can’t be seen with you without alerting the kidnapper that we’re working together.”

Exchanging a resigned glance with Fane, Serra opened the car door and stepped out. A swift mental sweep revealed they were alone. Unless, of course, there was an unseen enemy able to cloak their minds from her powers.

After last night a very real possibility.

“Why can’t you use one of your illusions?” she demanded as Fane moved to her side, his arms folded over his massive chest.

Bas touched the knot of his silk tie before smoothing back his dark hair. Serra sensed it was a ritual he performed to soothe his inner demons.

“That was fine when I assumed we were dealing with a former client,” he explained. “None of them are aware of my little talent. Anyone who worked for me would know that I can disguise my appearance.”

Serra frowned. “So what do you intend to do?”

Bas glanced at his Rolex. “I told Kaede to wait half an hour before picking me up. Just in case we’re being followed.”

“And then?” she pressed.

“I have a friend in the illegal arms business.” Bas smiled at her look of disgust. “He might be able to tell us who recently purchased a mind-stunner.”

“Fine.” Fane opened the door of the front passenger seat for her, his gaze moving toward the still-open warehouse door. “But tell your goons in the black Civic to keep their distance.”

Bas made a sound of annoyance while Serra craned her neck to locate the car that was parked in the shadows of a nearby building.

“They’re there for your protection,” the assassin ground out.

Serra studied the lean face, taking note of Bas’s tightly clenched teeth. Had he actually thought he could have them tailed without Fane spotting them?

“I thought you just said you wanted to avoid any connection to us?” she pointed out.

“The kidnapper would expect me to be keeping tabs on you,” Bas said without apology.

Fane touched the handgun holstered at his side. “Warn them to stay away.”

“Have you forgotten that the kidnapper has already tried to kill Serra once?”

“Exactly.” Fane’s voice assured Bas he wasn’t screwing around. “Which means that anyone who gets too close is considered the enemy. Make no mistake, I’ll kill first and ask questions later.”

Bas stiffened. Serra wondered how many people ever dared to stand up to him.

She was going with zero.

Until now.

“They have no reason to get close unless you’re being attacked,” the assassin snapped, his gaze shifting toward Serra. “Or trying to do something stupid.”

She arched a brow. “Something stupid?”

“Trying to contact Valhalla,” Bas said. “Running away.”

“Yeah right.” Serra gave a disgusted shake of her head. “Where would I go?”

Bas shrugged, clearly at a breaking point despite his grim composure.

“Just being cautious.”

Fane pointed a finger at the assassin. “Warn them to stay back or prepare for their funeral.”

Bas carefully adjusted his cuffs, speaking to Serra. “I don’t know how you stand spending so much time with him, my dear. He’s barely housetrained.”

Serra smiled. “He grows on you.”

“Like fungus?” Bas smoothly suggested.

Fane rounded the car, his body rigid with the desire to hit someone.

“Shut up before I cut off your nuts,” he warned Bas as he slid into the driver’s seat and slammed shut the door.

Bas stepped back, his hands lifted in surrender. “He’s all yours.”