Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(82)

She hesitated before demanding an answer.

As a woman who could read the thoughts of others, she thoroughly approved of the old saying that ignorance was bliss.

Unfortunately, she had a terrible premonition that on this occasion sticking her head in the sand wasn’t going to be an option.

Gripping the sill of the window, she forced the question past her stiff lips.

“Why?”

He turned to meet her searching gaze. “We have no guarantee Bas will remove the toxin after he has Molly back,” he said, reluctantly sharing his fear. “In fact, it makes more sense to kill both of us and make our bodies disappear.”

The breath was jerked from her lungs. “He wouldn’t.”

Fane studied her in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe she was so gullible.

“He’s a mercenary without honor or ethics,” he growled. “There’s no way in hell he’ll let us return to Valhalla and reveal his crimes.”

“God.” She felt dizzy. Maybe she was gullible. Of all the things she’d been stressing over, the fact that Bas might betray her hadn’t even entered her mind. Shit. “I never considered the possibility he wouldn’t remove the spell.”

Fane’s eyes hardened until they looked like polished ebony.

“Oh, he’s going to remove it. One way or another.” The lethal promise in his voice made Serra shiver, but before she could make him swear he wouldn’t put himself in danger, he was pointing toward the rusty shed. “Can you sense if the shed is empty?”

She gave a shake of her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She didn’t have time to panic.

First they had to survive the encounter with the unknown stalker.

“I think so.”

“Good.”

The word had barely fallen from her lips when Fane was grasping the edges of the sill and with one smooth motion was leaping through the open window.

“Shit.”

Serra thrust her head through the opening, watching as Fane hit the ground. Despite the thirty-foot drop, he landed as light as a cat, swiftly straightening to hold out his arms.

“I’ll catch you.” He frowned as she hesitated. “Trust me.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” she muttered, awkwardly putting one leg over the sill. “It’s gravity.”

“Just close your eyes and jump.”

Her lips twisted at his command. He seemed to be asking her to do that a lot lately.

Of course, leaping through the window was a lot safer than leaping with her vulnerable heart.

Wiggling her second leg through the opening, she didn’t give herself time to hesitate, leaning forward until she was flying through the air.

She barely had time to process the air brushing over her cheeks or her heart crashing against her ribs before she was landing in a pair of rock-hard arms.

“See,” he whispered in her ear, pressing her close to his chest. “I’m not going to drop you. Not ever.”

She forced open her eyes, meeting his steady gaze. “I’ll admit you’re useful on occasion.”

He smiled with resigned amusement, then slowly he lowered her to the ground, careful to make sure she had her balance before removing his arms.

“Stay near the edge of the building,” he commanded, leading her toward the end of the apartment complex.

He halted when they ran out of sidewalk, peering around the corner. Only when he was sure the coast was clear did he jog toward the shed.

Serra followed behind him, rounding the building to discover him yanking the padlock off the door as if it were made of plastic.

But instead of entering the building, he gave a jerk of his head toward a nearby Dumpster.

“I want you to wait over there.”

Serra grimaced in horror. “You can’t be serious?”

He leaned down to press a swift kiss to her mouth. “Hurry.”

“Fine, but if you get hurt—”

He cut off her warning with another fierce, way-too-short kiss, then with a firm push he had her headed toward the Dumpster.

She muttered a curse beneath her breath, but reluctantly obeyed his command.

When it came to the psychic world, she was in charge. When it came to the physical world, Fane was in charge.

He was bigger, stronger, faster, and far better trained as a warrior.

Besides, if she was stubborn enough to refuse to follow his lead, there was a good chance she was going to get him hurt.

Ducking behind the Dumpster, she slapped a hand over her mouth and nose, struggling not to heave up the chicken and waffles she’d consumed for breakfast.

How was she supposed to concentrate when she was being drowned in the stench of week-old garbage?

With an effort, she shut down her physical senses, and instead concentrated on her mental ability.

She easily picked up the void that surrounded Fane. She could monitor his physical presence, but his tattoos prevented any psychic intrusion.

Only a few minutes later, she could detect the mind of their stalker. Just as on the previous night, she was aware of the sense of approaching malevolence. A dark malice that was almost tangible.

He was close. Really close.

On the point of trying to penetrate into the stranger’s mind it abruptly went dark, along with the weird evil vibe.

With a frown, she shifted to peek around the edge of the trash, not surprised to discover Fane reaching down to grab an unconscious man and toss him over his shoulder.