Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(8)

“And you call us freaks?” a female voice drawled from behind him. “At least we don’t talk to ourselves.”

Pulling his gun, he whirled to watch a stranger stroll into the room from a hidden door, his fingers instinctively tightening on the trigger.

Not that she looked like someone who needed to be shot. Hell, she looked like she’d been created to fulfill a man’s deepest fantasy.

Statuesque, with lush curves that were shown to jaw-dropping perfection by a pair of black leather pants and red bustier, she had a long mane of raven hair that contrasted with her pale skin.

But there was a dangerous glint in the light green eyes that warned that this was no harmless sex kitten. This woman had claws she wouldn’t hesitate to use.

Especially on him, if her slow smile of anticipation was any indication.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

She halted in the center of the room, her legs spread wide and looking impossibly long in her knee-high boots with three-inch heels.

“Serra,” she offered, a hint of a Russian accent edging her voice.

He studied her. Not as a male interested in a woman. He’d already chosen his next lover, even if Callie hadn’t accepted the inevitable.

But as a cop assessing a loaded weapon.

“You’re not a necro.”

“No, my power isn’t necromancy. And no”—her lips curled in a taunting smile—“I’m not a witch.”

He hissed. That hadn’t been a lucky guess.

“A reader.”

“Ding, ding. Give the dog a Milk-Bone.”

He didn’t try to hide his unease. Why bother? A reader was capable of rummaging around in people’s minds. Or at least, that was the word on the streets.

But that didn’t mean he was going to roll over and let the bitch intimidate him.

“Let me go out on a limb and guess you don’t like me,” he said, his smile designed for maximum annoyance. “Is it because I’m not a—”

“Watch it,” she murmured, her eyes crystallizing with a dangerous power.

“High-blood?” he finished.

She sashayed forward, her every move a wicked invitation. “You upset my friend.”

He frowned. Okay. That wasn’t what he was expecting. “You mean Callie?”

“That would be the one.”

“Obviously you didn’t get the memo.” He shoved the gun back in his holster. No sense asking for trouble. He couldn’t shoot the female just because she pissed him off. Besides, it was more likely she would force him to put a bullet in his own head before he could squeeze off a round in her direction. “I wasn’t the one who upset her.”

“You aren’t the one who scared the hell out of her, but you upset her every time she’s forced to work with you.”

Upset her? How the hell could he ... ah. This time his smile was genuine.

So the lovely, frustratingly aloof diviner wasn’t completely indifferent to him.

Thank god.

“Because I remind her that she’s a woman?” He shrugged. “How can that be a bad thing?”

“Are you a ‘freak’ groupie?”

“Hell no.”

“Hmmm.” She narrowed her gaze. “What do you want from her?”

He arched a brow. “You don’t have to read my mind to guess what I want.”

“Callie might not be a virgin, but she’s an innocent.”

“I know.”

There was a startled pause before the female strolled forward, circling him like a predator sizing up her prey.

“Well, well,” she at last drawled. “What secrets are you hiding, Sergeant O’Conner?”

Duncan went rigid with fury. “Get the f**k out of my mind.”

She chuckled, but before she could continue her tormenting there was a prickle in the air and a misty shape began to form in the center of the room.

“Serra,” a soft voice chastised.

Astonishingly, the Queen Bitch was hastily stepping forward to perform a deep bow.

“Forgive me, Inhera.”

Duncan frowned. The figure remained misty, making him assume that it was some sort of projected image. Like the TV on the far wall.

Technology or magic?

Impossible to say.

“Please see that a room is prepared for our guest,” Inhera commanded, the misty vision hinting at a female, although it was impossible to determine her features. “Then return to me so we can continue your studies.”

“At once,” Serra instantly agreed, her tone deeply reverent. Then, the second the image flickered she turned to send Duncan a glare. “O’Conner?”

He kicked his chin up a notch. “What?”

“You hurt Callie in any way, shape, or form and I’ll give you nightmares that will make you scream.” She smiled with an evil intent. “Literally.”

She left the room with the fluid grace that most freaks seemed to possess, her heels clicking on the polished wood floor.

Once again alone, Duncan heaved a shaky sigh. Teleportation with tattooed Sentinels, mind-reading chicks in SMBD leather, projections of females that could appear and disappear, and a necro who made his blood run hot even when she was treating him as if she were cold as ice.

“My da warned me to stay away from the freaks,” he muttered.