Where Darkness Lives (Guardians of Eternity #7.75)(15)

“Unlike a demon, they would have to be standing in your yard to pitch this through the window. There’s no way they could have escaped before I could catch them.”

She nodded in agreement. “Then that narrows down the options.”

“Not far enough.”

Sensing his self-disgust, Sophia frowned. “What is it?”

“There’s something off,” he growled.

“Off?”

“If someone genuinely wants you dead they don’t warn you,” he muttered, throwing the brick into the trash.

He was right. She was trained well enough to know that the best assassin was the one who moved through the shadows and struck before their prey ever sensed the danger.

“The gunshot was genuine enough,” she pointed out, sharing his confusion.

“So was the bullet.”

“Yeah, the bastard ruined my desk.”

“I went back to dig it out.” His expression was grim. “It was silver.”

She shivered. “I suppose crazy doesn’t always make sense.”

He looked like he wanted to bite something.

Hard.

“What are your plans for the day?” he abruptly demanded.

She shrugged. “A few hours by the pool and then off to the club.”

“I’m calling a security firm to install your alarm system.” He prowled toward the door. “Don’t leave without me.”

Ignoring the crowd of drunken females who screeched in wild abandon at the male Were gyrating on the stage, Luc leaned against the carved oak bar and sipped his Cognac.

No one would blame him for being in a foul mood.

Not only was he no closer to discovering who was trying to harm Sophia, but he was so tormented by his raging lust he could barely think.

Mierda.

This was supposed to be a simple job.

Get in, fix the problem, and get out.

That’s what he did.

He fixed problems.

But from the instant he’d caught sight of Sophia, the job had gone from simple to simply insane.

Proving his point, his gaze skimmed over the mingling crowd, landing with unerring accuracy on the golden-haired female who was responsible for his current discomfort.

She looked exquisitely elegant in a silky ivory pantsuit.

The jacket was perfectly tailored to her slender frame, the plunging vee neckline revealing the lush curve of her br**sts. The pants clung to her long legs before flaring above a pair of three-inch heels.

Her pale hair was pulled into a smooth knot at the back of her head, the style perfectly designed to rouse his wolf into a near frenzy as he pictured his lips and teeth nuzzling down the length of her neck.

Wondering what she would do if he tossed her over his shoulder and headed for her office, Luc’s pleasant imaginings were interrupted as he watched a red-haired imp move to stand beside Sophia.

The tall fey looked a bit like Troy, but his hair was cut short and his far more bulky frame was covered by a black Armani suit instead of spandex. A smile touched his handsome face as he bent down to whisper something in Sophia’s ear.

A growl trickled from Luc’s throat as his fingers clutched the glass he was holding until it shattered.

Ignoring the Cognac that spilled over his hand, Luc prowled forward, his gaze locked on the fey who appeared unaware he was toying with death.

The crowd parted before him, the females giving tiny gasps of nervous excitement as they avidly watched him cross the room. He was indifferent to the stir of interest caused by his tight T-shirt and black slacks and the fluid grace of his movements.

He had only one thought in his mind.

Halting directly behind Sophia, he reached around her just as the fey was intending to take her hand. He grabbed the fool’s wrist, barely repressing his urge to crush the bones beneath his fingers.

“Touch her and I’ll make certain you never use that hand again,” he warned, his voice thick with his wolf.

“Shit.” Pale green eyes widened as the imp regarded him with a startled alarm. “Who the hell are you?”

“Luc.”

“You work here?”

Releasing his grip on the imp, Luc wrapped his arm possessively around Sophia’s waist, his chin resting on the top of her head.

“My only job is pleasing Sophia.”

Holding herself rigid, Sophia covered his hand with hers, covertly allowing her claws to dig into his flesh.

A tiny warning that she wasn’t pleased by his public claim.

“We’ll finish our discussion tomorrow, Andrew,” she smoothly promised the wary imp. “My office?”

“Four o’clock,” the fey murmured, cautiously waiting for Luc’s tiny nod of agreement before backing away and disappearing into the crowd.

Smart imp.

He obviously had enough sense not to piss off a Were. Especially not one in heat.

Of course, a female Were was equally perilous.

Tugging out of his grasp, Sophia turned to stab him with a furious glare.

“Are you demented?” she hissed.

“Odd.” His lips twisted. “That question has been running through my mind with growing frequency.” He nodded toward the fleeing imp. “Who was that?”

“My liquor distributor, who was giving me a very sweet deal until you came stomping over here like Conan the Barbarian,” she rasped. “What were you doing?”