Tall, Dark & Heartless (Pyte/Sentinel #3)(12)

It was one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, but somehow he forced himself to look away from her and look back at the ass**le he was going to kill.

Very soon.

"Do I have your attention now?" Greg asked, smirking. He reluctantly removed his finger from the button, but Caine could tell man was dying to hit it again.

"What do you want?" Caine asked, forcing himself to ignore Danni's gasps.

Greg shrugged, leaning back against the wall as his thumb lazily traced circles around the remote's buttons. For the first time since he walked into the room Caine noted the Sentinel black fatigues were gone, replaced by a silk shirt and tailored black pants. Although Sentinels weren't hurting for money they usually didn't wear anything fashionable. They were usually more concerned with the job than needless comfort and that habit was usually followed by their human children since they would likely be taunted and teased for being pussies.

"First, I think we should cover the rules, don't you?" Greg asked, smiling when Caine only glared at him. "There are four of these lovely little devices," Greg said, holding up the remote. "If you try to escape or attack any of my men I'll push the red button, which as I'm sure you've guessed will kill the little bitch."

Caine swallowed hard as dread filled him. "If you try to remove the device from her leg or the wall I'll push the red button, but for all those other little things that simply piss me off I'll push the green button and as you can see," Greg said, jutting his chin out in Danni's direction, "she probably won't enjoy that."

"What makes you think that I care?" Caine asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the wall.

"Then I guess you won't mind if I do this again," Greg said, not bothering to hide his grin as he hit the green button. Caine refused to look at Danni.

"You son of a bitch!" Danni screamed, at him or the douche bag, he wasn't sure. It didn't matter at the moment. The only thing that mattered was getting the message across that he couldn't care less about her, because when it came down to it he really didn't. He cared about the little girl that she had once been, but nobody else.

"No, not really," he said in a bored tone, shrugging. "The only thing I care about is why I'm here."

"I suppose we could get down to business," Greg said, reluctantly removing his finger from the button. He nodded in Danni's direction. "We want you to change her."

Caine chuckled darkly. "Not f**king happening."

"Why not?" Greg asked, cocking a brow. "We both know that you haven't used your one turn yet."

No, he hadn't and he never planned to use it. It didn't matter that the Sentinel council had threatened to encase his ass in cement and drop him in the deepest part of the ocean where he'd spend eternity wishing for a death that he knew would never come. He would never give anyone the life he hated.

When he was younger and new to his immortal life, he thought it was f**king great. To go from nothing to being fast, strong and unstoppable had been such a f**king rush and he'd enjoyed every goddamn minute of it. By today's standards he probably would been labeled a playboy at the time. He took what he wanted, f**ked whomever he wanted and never gave a damn about anyone or anything because he thought he was a god.

It wasn't until he'd f**ked the wrong woman that he got a dose of reality and learned real fast what the drawbacks were to being unable to die. If he hadn't been so damn full of himself he never would have been caught. Instead of getting out of the woman's bed like any man with common sense would have done, especially since he knew the woman's husband would most likely discover him, he'd rolled over and fell asleep, arrogant in his abilities to destroy any man that challenged him.

He'd been so damn foolish.

That was also the first time he'd woken up chained. Instead of focusing on freeing himself he'd taunted and ridiculed his captor, arrogant in his belief that he could free himself whenever he pleased and that he had nothing to fear from a bunch of humans. He'd paid dearly for that mistake. When ten men wielding swords closed in on him he'd laughed, believing they'd do very little damage before he broke free and drained them dry. It wasn't until the first sword sliced through him that his smile faltered.

Within a matter of minutes he lay in a pool of his own blood, begging for death as the soldiers methodically sliced through his body. Intense pain unlike any he'd ever known tore through his body as fingers, limbs and even his head were chopped off countless times only to instantly reattach itself, ready for more damage.

It didn't take long for the men to declare him a demon. For hours they tried to kill him only to realize that he couldn't die by their swords so they moved on to other methods such as fire, drowning, and every other way they could think to kill a man.

The first attack had robbed him of too much blood, leaving him weak and helpless against mere humans. As his body begged for it all to end his mind went into a haze as the need for blood and revenge filled him, turning him into a savage animal, snarling, growling and doing his damndest to attack anything and everything nearby, desperate for blood. He soon became a joke to the soldiers as they tortured him. They'd made sure to humiliate him as much as possible as they had their fun.

When they carted him to the town square and chained him down for all to see he lost any semblance of humanity he had left. While he lay there seething, women he'd bedded, men he'd bested and children who should have feared him laughed at him as they threw rocks, garbage and other things he still refused to think about. Without any blood to drink he was left helpless. His body slowly healed itself, but without blood he was too weak to defend himself.