Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(97)

The Tagos ignored Duncan’s string of curses as he watched his fellow Sentinel trot across the manicured yard, heading toward the front of the house, only to circle toward the back.

At last the man came to a halt, tilting back his head as if he was sniffing the air.

“Niko?” Wolfe prompted.

“I have her trail,” the man announced, heading toward the back terrace.

Wolfe released his grip and Duncan was in swift pursuit of Niko as he climbed the shallow steps and entered the house through a back door. Duncan didn’t know if it had been locked or not, and he didn’t care.

He wasn’t here as a cop. He was here as a man desperate to find the woman he loved.

Hold on, Callie. Hold on... he silently urged.

They moved through a large kitchen, Niko in the lead followed by Duncan and then Wolfe. Fane and Arel brought up the rear, both turned to the side to make sure there were no surprises lurking in the dark.

Niko led them out of the kitchen and down a short hallway, halting when they came to a dead end.

What the hell?

Duncan frowned as Wolfe stepped past him, lifting his leg to smash his massive foot through the paneling.

Ah. A secret doorway.

Of course.

Every wicked villain had one, didn’t he?

And now that Duncan took the time to think about it, he could actually sense the emptiness that marked the opening behind the paneling. Perhaps with training he could ...

He gave a shake of his head at his inane thoughts, ducking as the splintered wood flew through the air.

Four more kicks and Wolfe had the hole large enough for Niko to squeeze through. Wolfe was next, but as Duncan moved to follow, he heard Fane give a low growl.

“Someone’s here.”

Duncan turned back, pulling his gun and clicking off the safety.

“The necro?”

“Not.”

A chill of warning inched down Duncan’s spine as he walked to stand at Fane’s side. For a minute he couldn’t see a damned thing in the darkness. Then a shadow shifted forward, stepping into a small shaft of moonlight.

“Frank,” Duncan breathed, more resigned than shocked. “I’ll distract him. Keep looking for Callie.”

Fane shifted to stand directly in front of him. “Cop.”

“What?”

The tattooed face was stark with the brutal strain of knowing Callie was in danger.

“He’s not your friend anymore.”

Duncan grimaced, ignoring the ache in the center of his chest.

Frank was dead.

This... thing that was approaching was a creation of the same necromancer that had stolen the woman he loved.

He wouldn’t hesitate to send it to the grave. Always assuming he could figure out how.

“I know.” He jerked his head toward the opening in the wall. “Hurry.”

Obviously reading the grim determination etched on his face, the Sentinel gave a sharp nod and slipped past Duncan.

Alone with his onetime friend, Duncan shifted to make sure he had plenty of room to fight.

And there was going to be a fight.

No doubt about that.

The only question was whether he was going to survive.

Halting a few feet from Duncan, the zombie regarded him with a blank expression, although there was nothing blank about the dark eyes.

They were filled with... awareness.

Duncan shuddered, his fingers tightening on the gun. It was pure instinct. He already knew it was a waste of bullets to shoot the bastard.

Besides, for now all he cared about was distracting Frank long enough for the Sentinels to find Callie and kill the necromancer.

“Hey, amigo,” he said, a queasy sensation joining the stark fear in the pit of his stomach. Logically he understood this wasn’t Frank. But shit... he looked like the man who’d taken him under his wing when he left the academy. The one who’d taught him to filet a catfish. And the one who’d taken him to a strip joint to get blotto the night his divorce was finalized. “Do you remember me?”

The creature smiled. “O’Conner.”

Duncan flinched. Christ. Did the thing truly remember him?

“Yeah, that’s right” He forced himself to keep talking. If he stopped to think, he would be overwhelmed by the sheer horror of the situation. “I’m looking for my friend Callie. Have you seen her?”

“She’s gone.”

Duncan sucked in a sharp breath. Gone? Could it be true?

He had no idea if Frank was lucid enough to know what was going on around him.

“Where did she go?”

“With the master.”

Duncan growled at the mention of the necromancer, but he kept his attention focused on Callie.

“Okay, I got that she’s with the... master.” He forced the word past his lips. “But where did they go?”

Frank hesitated, as if it took a minute to process the question.

Was he mentally connected with Lord Zakhar?

Not that it mattered.

The necromancer had to know he was being hunted by every Sentinel in Valhalla.

At last Frank spoke. “To raise an army.”

“An army?” Of zombies? Duncan shoved aside the horrifying thought. Nothing mattered but finding Callie. “In Kansas City?”

“No.”

“Somewhere close by?”