Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(40)

Halting in front of the door, Zak pressed his hand to the electronic reader. There was a low buzzing sound as the scanner read his fingerprints, then with a soft click the doors swung inward.

Zak didn’t hesitate as he entered the marble foyer that towered two stories, with arched windows that gave ample light for the tangle of plants that grew along the edge of the black and white marble tiled floor.

He ignored the double staircase that swept in a graceful arch toward the second floor, walking directly between them to the sunken living room at the back of the house.

He was equally indifferent to the white sectional couch that was arranged around the glass cylinder aquarium that was built from floor to ceiling. And the beautifully carved white marble fireplace where two black vases offered a stark contrast to the acres of white.

His only interest was reaching the office that he’d seen in Leah’s memories.

From what he could determine before Callie had so rudely intruded into his search of the young female’s mind, the office was the one place in the mansion that Calso refused to allow her to enter.

It seemed the feasible place to start his search.

Crossing the white carpet, he was just steps away from the closed door on the far side of the room when a faint sound had him spinning around.

He swallowed a curse at the sight of the short, nearly bald man with a round face and black, beady eyes. Around sixty years old, he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers with his rotund belly sticking out like a hairy basketball.

Zak barely suppressed his sneer. It seemed impossible to believe that this pathetic norm could actually hold a piece of the gods.

“Leah?” Calso frowned, his expression wary even as his gaze slid a compulsive glance down Leah’s slender body. “What are you doing here?”

Zak clinically debated his option.

The easiest path would be to kill the fool and continue with his search.

On the downside, there were servants who would soon be waking. They were bound to eventually stumble over their dead employer.

Besides, he could use Calso’s pathetic obsession with the young female to help narrow down the exact location of his prize.

Forcing his feet to take a step forward, he gave a toss of his head, feeling his hair brushing the bare skin of his arms. It might have been centuries since he’d allowed himself to be led by his dick, but he remembered what had once excited him.

“I’m sorry.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

The dark gaze compulsively lowered to Leah’s br**sts, barely concealed by the sports bra, but his frown remained.

“I asked you a question.”

“I lost my phone.” Zak shrugged. “I thought I might have left it here.”

“And you decided to search for it at this hour?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

There was a pause as the man struggled between suspicion and his libido.

Not surprisingly his libido won.

“A lucky coincidence,” he growled, strolling forward.

Zak covertly turned his head away from the windows that were beginning to lighten with the coming dawn.

His motor skills were improving, but only the shadows hid Leah’s lack of facial expression.

“And why’s that?”

“I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Ah. What do you suppose we should do about it?”

The man trailed his fingers along the neckline of Leah’s sports bra before slipping his fingers beneath the stretchy material and giving the breast a squeeze. Miles away, Zak grimaced, fiercely thankful he didn’t have to feel the pudgy fingers groping him.

“I have a few ideas,” Calso purred.

“I bet you do.”

A flush stained the man’s round face. “Upstairs. Now.”

Zak made what he hoped sounded like a giggle. “I have a better idea.”

He arched a brow. “Games?”

“Catch me.”

Without giving the fool a chance to react, Zak turned and hurried the short distance to the end of the room.

“Dammit, Leah, what are you doing?” the man growled, in instant pursuit.

“Playing.” Zak opened the door and darted into the office, taking a quick inventory of the room.

A leather sofa and wing chairs surrounding a lacquer table. Several tall bookcases that were stuffed with aged leather books. A heavy walnut desk set by the marble fireplace with a wide mantel that held a number of bronze statues.

At last he turned back to watch Calso storm into the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” he rasped.

“You don’t like my game?” Zak prodded, carefully monitoring Calso’s gaze, which instinctively shifted toward the area of the desk.

“You know you’re not allowed in here.”

Zak backed toward the desk, his gaze never leaving Calso’s revealing eyes.

“Why not?”

“It’s my private office.”

“It’s not business hours. Don’t you want me naked on your desk?”

Zak reached the corner of the desk, lifting a hand to shove back his thick curtain of hair. How did females tolerate the itchy stuff?

Calso hesitated, the dark eyes narrowing in speculation. Was he debating the pleasure of banging her on the glossy surface?

Clearly, Zak hadn’t found the sweet spot.