Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(95)

Fane pointed toward the silk and chino man. “Niko.” His finger turned toward the angel. “Arel.” He continued on to the dark-haired bad-ass. “And Wolfe.” The finger shifted toward Duncan. “This is O’Conner.”

Niko narrowed his gaze, his expression one of suspicion. “I thought he was human.”

Wolfe smiled without humor. “He’s been fooling a lot of people.”

Duncan made a sound of disgust. How the hell had he ever thought his ability to see auras was a secret? Every Sentinel in the damned world could tell he wasn’t human.

“Is this meeting about Callie or just to bust my balls?” he snapped.

“This meeting is for Sentinels,” Wolfe answered, his words slow and deliberate. “You’ve been allowed to sit in because Fane is convinced of your loyalty to Callie.”

“If you’re asking if I’ll do anything to rescue her, the answer is yes.”

“Anything?” Wolfe prodded.

Duncan scowled. “What do you want from me?”

The man studied him for a long minute, his gaze seeming to strip Duncan to his soul. And maybe he could. Sentinels were proving to have a surprising range of talents.

“You can be a human cop or you can be a Sentinel,” Wolfe finally said. “You can’t be both.”

Ah.

Duncan had known the choice was coming.

From the minute he’d committed himself to a relationship with Callie it had been obvious that they couldn’t exist in two different worlds.

Hell, he didn’t want to exist in different worlds.

Now he didn’t hesitate.

“Then I’m a Sentinel,” he said, astonished at how right the words felt. As if a missing puzzle piece deep inside him had just fallen into place. Disturbed by the sensation, he gave a strained laugh. “I don’t have to get tattooed, do I?”

Fane rolled his eyes. “You aren’t special enough to get tattooed.”

“Don’t worry. There’ll be an initiation,” Arel promised. “Later.”

Duncan grimaced. The mind boggled at what these men might consider an initiation. “Great.”

Wolfe glanced toward Fane. “Tell me what you learned in Florida.”

Duncan abruptly recalled that Fane had spent the previous night searching for information on the coin.

“It’s not good,” the guardian admitted. “The monk warned me that we had to keep the necromancer from opening the pathway to the underworld.”

Duncan recalled Hektor’s warning. Hadn’t he said something about a pathway to the underworld?

“And if we’re too late?” Wolfe asked.

“Only an obscure ritual will close it again.”

“Did he happen to know the obscure ritual?”

“No.”

Wolfe swore beneath his breath. “Of course not.”

Fane didn’t look any happier than his leader, but with a shrug he nodded toward the wall of monitors. “What have you done here?”

“I have hunters trying to find Callie’s scent and the techs are working on tracing her phone,” Wolfe said. “I’ve also contacted the monasteries and halted all travel.”

Without warning Fane turned his attention to Duncan. “Cop?”

Three pairs of eyes were trained on him, and Duncan sensed it was his first test.

Unconsciously he squared his shoulders, speaking directly to Wolfe. “I spoke with the chief and she has an APB out on Frank,” he said, not surprised when the big, tough Sentinels shuddered. No one wanted to think about how many corpses might be wandering the streets of Kansas City. “They’re also tracing the GPS on his car.”

“Anything?” Wolfe asked.

Duncan shook his head. “Not yet. His car was parked at his house, but he wasn’t...” Duncan forgot what he was going to say as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, shit.”

Fane stepped directly in front of him, the heat of his body a tangible force. “What?”

“Frank was driving a silver car.”

“So?”

“He doesn’t have a silver car,” Duncan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted through the information he’d managed to gather over the past few days. “The dress lady said the woman arrived in a silver car. And there was a silver car spotted on Calso’s street just before his murder. It has to belong to the necro.”

Fane scowled. “Is that supposed to make sense?”

Duncan glanced toward Wolfe, a near painful urgency pounding through his veins.

“Can your techs tap into government databases?”

The Tagos was on instant guard, his dark eyes narrowing in warning. “Why?”

Duncan waved an impatient hand. “I’m not going to tell anyone about any... supplementary methods you have to protect high-bloods.”

Wolfe hesitated before giving a nod. “Fine. What do you want?”

“I need to trace a license plate”.

Fane made a sound of surprise. “You got the number?”

Duncan unconsciously touched the bandage that covered his healing wound on his temple. “Just the last three as I flew by,” he said dryly. “But it might be enough to get a hit.”

Wolfe was already spinning to head toward a distant door. “This way.”