Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(41)

Before Calso could try and pin him to the desk, Zak was sliding to the side, heading directly for the fireplace.

“Or maybe you would rather I—”

“Enough,” Calso snapped as he lurched forward. “Get away from there.”

Zak followed the man’s worried gaze. Ah. How tediously predictable. A wall safe hidden behind the Picasso.

“As you command,” he drawled, moving to stand directly in front of Calso.

The man started to relax until he caught sight of the amulet that was beginning to glow in the clinging darkness.

“What’s this?”

Zak managed to stretch the rigid lips into a smile. “Death.”

Calso stumbled back, fear and confusion twisting the pudgy face. But it was far too late. He’d barely taken a step backward when the amulet released its magic, slamming into him with a lethal force.

Zak watched Calso drop to his knees, the skin ripping like tissue paper as the magic inside him began to swell and expand.

Magic was never a pleasant way to die.

And this was a particularly nasty spell.

But effective, he had to concede, stepping back as the dead man fell face first onto the rare Persian carpet, swiftly turning into nothing but charred ashes.

Anya was nothing if not efficient.

Assured the man was dead, Zak turned away, crossing to the fireplace.

It took less than five minutes to find the trigger on the Picasso that allowed it to swing forward, revealing the safe set in the wall. Reaching up, he pressed his hand against the scanner, not at all surprised when he heard the lock click.

The arrogant bastard never considered his own lover might betray him.

Hubris.

The weakness of every wealthy man.

Reaching for the small handle on the safe, he tugged it open.

Anticipation hummed through him as he reached inside and shoved aside the papers to find the pale stone vessel that was shaped like a small vase with an odd winged creature etched on the front. With care he pried out the cotton that blocked the opening at the top of the vessel and turned it upside down to shake out the coin inside.

A mile to the north, his heart in his real body gave a sudden leap.

Soon...

Soon he would have the just rewards he so richly deserved.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Duncan shifted to lie on his side, studying Callie’s delicate profile outlined by the rosy promise of dawn.

Christ.

That hadn’t been good sex.

It had been ... cataclysmic sex.

Shattering.

But why?

Holding her close, he tried on a few excuses.

He’d been celibate for too long. A man wasn’t meant to be without a woman in his bed, right?

He’d been fantasizing about this woman for longer than he wanted to admit.

He was under a shitload of stress. Everyone knew that adrenaline made everything seem to be in Technicolor. Including sex.

Unfortunately he couldn’t make any of the lame-ass excuses fit.

What had just happened between them defied explanation.

A fact that should have scared the hell out of him.

Instead, it just juiced him up with the need to have her again.

And again.

And again ...

Already hardening with anticipation, Duncan abruptly frowned as he realized that while he’d been reveling in the image of round two, Callie was lost in thoughts that had nothing to do with him or hot, sweaty sex.

“Hey.” He brushed his finger down the thin blade of her nose. “Where did you go?”

She blinked, as if coming back from a long distance. Then slowly she turned her head to meet his narrowed gaze. “I was just thinking.”

“And it brought a frown to that lovely face?” His finger moved to trace the furrow that marred her brow. “You promised you weren’t going to regret what happened in this bed.”

“I wasn’t thinking about”—a lovely blush stained her cheeks—“that.”

“That’s even worse,” he chided, captivated by the sight of her gemstone eyes catching and reflecting the first strands of light. Man. Had there ever been anything more beautiful? “I’m already a distant memory.” Using his free hand, he stroked down the curve of her back, pressing her against his stirring arousal. “Maybe I should remind you the kind of fireworks we strike off each other.”

Her breath caught. “Trust me, I’m never going to forget.”

He smiled at her husky tone, his gaze lingering on her lips, which were still red and swollen from his kisses.

“That’s what I want to hear.”

She rolled her eyes. “Arrogant.”

His smile faded as he sensed her lingering distraction. As much as he longed to drown in the silken pleasure of her body, Duncan wanted her full and complete attention when he was seducing her.

“Okay, Callie,” he murmured. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I was just thinking about what Boggs said.”

“Before breakfast?” He gave a dramatic shudder. “No wonder you’re not a morning person.”

She ignored his teasing. “He said that ‘to see into the future you must look into the past.”’

Duncan snorted. Boggs had unnerved him more than he wanted to admit, but he didn’t want Callie taking risks just because some crazy doppelganger implied that he’d seen her in some psychic vision.