Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(81)

“Well, well,” he slurred, hiking up the sagging sweatpants. “What a fine piece of ass.”

Fane shifted to stand between the drunk and Serra. “Step back in your apartment.”

The man appeared stupidly unaware he was staring death in the face. Or maybe he just didn’t give a shit. Life had clearly been a long series of disappointments.

“Who the hell are you?” The jaundiced eyes narrowed. “The cops?”

“I won’t tell you again,” Fane warned. “Return to your apartment.”

“Give me the bitch and I’ll . . .” The idiot gave a high scream as Fane pulled his handgun and clipped his upper shoulder with a bullet. Slamming his hand over the small but painful wound, he flicked a shocked gaze over Fane’s massive form. A belated fear made his thick jowls quiver. “What the f*ck? Are you one of those freaks?”

Fane pointed the gun dead center at the man’s chest. “Last chance.”

“Shit.” The man stumbled backward, the sharp stench of fresh piss assaulting Fane’s nose. “I’m going.”

The door slammed shut and Fane calmly returned his weapon to the holster.

“I could have dealt with him,” Serra said, a hint of disappointment in her voice that she hadn’t been allowed to screw with the man’s mind.

The drunk truly had no idea how lucky he’d been. Fane gave him a flesh wound. Serra could have given him nightmares that would have haunted him for weeks.

“I know. I like to flex my muscles.” Placing a hand on Serra’s lower back, he urged her toward the distant door. “We need to pick up the pace.”

“The idiot just pissed his pants,” Serra said, shuddering in revulsion. “I doubt he’s going to bother us.”

“No, but he might have called the cops.”

She grimaced. “Good point.”

Gathering speed, she returned her attention to the various thoughts and emotions that assaulted her from the apartments.

They had nearly reached the end of the hall when she came to a sharp halt.

“Serra?” Fane studied the distracted frown that pulled her brows together. “Is it Molly?”

She remained silent, her eyes closed as she shifted through the mental noise only she could hear.

“No,” she at last said, her eyes opening. “But there’s someone following us.”

Fuck. He glanced over his shoulder.

“One of Bas’s goons?”

“I don’t think so.” She bit her bottom lip, unease abruptly darkening her eyes. “This feels like the men who attacked us last night.”

“Shit.”

Chapter Nineteen

Serra slammed down her mental barriers, focusing on the vague sense of menace that was growing stronger with every beat of her heart.

At her side, Fane moved several steps away, giving himself plenty of room to fight.

“How many?”

“Just one.” She struggled to pinpoint the mind that was causing her growing unease. “A male.”

“Which direction?”

“Below us.”

Fane reached for her hand. “This way.” He tugged her toward the door to the stairwell, only to come to an abrupt halt. “Wait.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want our tails to spot us leaving the building.”

Serra stared at him in confusion. “You think Bas’s Sentinels are working with the kidnapper?”

“Doubtful.” He shrugged, moving to lean his head against the door of the nearest apartment. When he was convinced it was empty he straightened and with one shove of his shoulder he had the door swinging open, the frame shattering beneath the impact. “But I want to have a little talk with our stalker,” he continued, leading her into the empty apartment. “Alone.”

Serra made a sound of disbelief as they crossed the puke yellow carpet and entered the back bedroom.

Less than twelve hours ago she’d watched Fane take a bullet. It wasn’t an experience she was anxious to repeat.

“Are you crazy?” she snapped. “The last time they got close to us we nearly died.”

He moved directly to the window, snapping the lock as he shoved it open.

“They caught us by surprise.” He leaned out the window to scan the back lot. There wasn’t much to see. A row of Dumpsters, an overgrown lot that was framed by a chain link fence, and a rusty tin shed. “This time we’ll have the upper hand.”

Upper hand? Yeah, right.

They hadn’t had the upper hand since leaving Valhalla.

“What’s the plan?” she grudgingly demanded.

“We lead our shadow into an isolated location and ask him a few questions.”

She glanced at his grim profile, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell she could convince him not to take the risk. Not when he believed it might help her.

“Why not include Bas’s Sentinels?” she suggested, willing to play nice with their unwanted tails. Anything to keep Fane from being injured again. “They’d provide extra muscle.”

He gave a shake of his head. “I want Molly in our hands before Bas realizes we have a lead.”

She studied his tense expression. There was something he wasn’t telling her.

Something that wasn’t going to make her happy.