Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(84)

He could torture the man until he would admit to anything Fane wanted to hear.

By going into his mind there was the very real possibility they could discover the identity of the kidnapper.

“Okay,” he grudgingly muttered. “Just don’t go too deep. He could have a mental trap waiting for a psychic.”

She sent him a wry glance. “You concentrate on keeping him from escaping and let me do my job, big boy.”

He studied her with a faint smile. “Big boy?”

Her gaze made a slow inventory of his broad shoulders before moving to take in his chest.

“You are big.” Her gaze slid lower. “In all the right places.”

His cock hardened in instant reaction to her soft words.

As if hoping to prove just how big it really could be.

Shit. It seemed entirely unfair that she had such complete control over his body.

Giving a resigned shake of his head, Fane returned his attention to the stalker sprawled on the ground. His hand tightened on the thin wire that was wrapped around the man’s neck as he caught the sound of a low moan.

“He’s starting to wake up.” The warning had barely left his lips when Serra was moving forward to kneel beside the stranger, her hand reaching to press against his cheek. Fane clenched his teeth, his body vibrating with the intense need to yank her away from the man. Who knew how dangerous he might be? “What are you doing?” he rasped.

“It helps if I’m touching him.”

Fane was distracted as the man’s eyes snapped open and he was shoving himself to a seated position.

Pulling on the wire, Fane stopped just short of cutting through the man’s flesh. One more jerk and the head would be flying across the shed. But the man wasn’t even aware he was in danger. Not when Serra was leaning forward to capture his confused gaze, her soft voice compelling him to obey.

“Shh. Easy,” she murmured, holding his face in her hands. “That’s it. Just relax.”

Fane watched as the man’s face went slack. He wasn’t entirely certain what Serra was doing, but he knew that she was able to put him in a state of deep relaxation, making it impossible for him to conjure magic or to fight against her intrusion.

Or that was the theory. On this occasion, the stalker remained limp, but his pale eyes flashed with a mocking amusement.

“You can’t . . . get in,” he slurred.

Fane frowned in concern. “Serra?”

“He’s right,” she admitted through gritted teeth. “There’s a barrier.”

Shit. Of course there was. “Magical?”

“Yes.” She glanced up with an expression of frustration. “I can’t force my way past it without killing him.”

Fane shrugged, a smile of anticipation curling his lips. “Then we do it the old-fashioned way.”

Serra reached up to touch his hand, keeping him from tightening the noose.

“Hold on.”

“What?”

“I can’t get in, but I can read what comes out,” she said.

Read what comes out? He shook his head in confusion.

“Was that supposed to make sense?”

She returned her attention to the stranger, keeping her hands pressed to the sides of his head.

“Just ask a question.”

Okay. Clearly she had a plan.

Giving a quick glance through the window of the shed to make sure no one was trying to sneak up on them, Fane concentrated on the information they needed from this man.

“Why are you following us?” he demanded.

The pale eyes held the cold indifference of a true psychopath.

“Fuck you.”

Serra sucked in a sharp breath. “Check his back pocket.”

Fane didn’t hesitate, bending down to pull out the thin, disc-shaped object that was clearly designed to be strapped around a hand with the disc pressed against the palm.

“Dammit,” Fane growled, shoving the object into the front pocket of his camos. “Do they have a treasure chest of banned weapons?”

“What is it?” Serra kept her gaze locked on the stranger, clearly prepared to capture any thought that slipped past the barrier.

“A disrupter.”

“What does it do?”

Fane shuddered, all too easily able to visualize the man sneaking up behind Serra and placing the weapon against her back.

“At close range it would stop your heart,” he said, his voice harsh. “To the world it would have looked as if you’d died of a heart attack.”

She grimaced, but her courage never faltered.

He wished he could say the same.

Goddammit. He was tired of people wanting this woman dead. He’d give everything he possessed to grab her in his arms and flee as fast and as far as possible.

“Ask another question,” she commanded.

Fane waited until the icy blue gaze turned in his direction.

“Who are you?”

“A soldier.” A cold smile. “Like you.”

Fane curled his lips. “You’re nothing like me.”

“Release me and let’s see who is the better fighter.”

“Who hired you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“Wrong answer,” Fane retorted, pulling the wire just hard enough to slice through the first layers of skin.