Where Darkness Lives (Guardians of Eternity #7.75)(29)

“Holy shit.”

Giving her shoulders a tug, Troy turned her to meet his searching gaze.

“What?”

“He could be working with the maniac who has been stalking me,” she breathed. “Hell, he could be the stalker.”

Troy gave a firm shake of his head. “No, he’s not the stalker. That’s one thing I’m absolutely certain of.”

So was she.

Her lips thinned as the thought whispered through the back of her mind.

She had proof that he had lied to her from the beginning of their relationship. Why did she find it impossible to accept he would ever do anything to hurt her?

“How can you know?”

With a grimace he moved back to the briefcase he’d left on her desk, pulling out yet another folder.

“Because he’s one of Salvatore’s most trusted lieutenants,” he said, pressing the file into her hands. “Here.”

She leaned against the window, her head dizzy as she tried to process yet another shock.

Damn the King of Weres.

She had known when Salvatore capitulated so easily to her refusal to join them in Styx’s lair that he was up to something. Something devious.

He was a Were who always believed he knew best.

So the fact that he had somehow managed to discover she was seeking a bodyguard and had planted his own trusted soldier into her house to keep an eye on her wasn’t at all a surprise.

But that didn’t make Luc’s deception any easier to bear.

He might not be her stalker, but he’d used her desire and all too vulnerable emotions to make sure he could remain close to her and fulfill his duty to his king.

The ... jackass.

Her gaze dropped to the folder she was clutching in her hand.

“What’s this?”

“The information my private investigator managed to dig up. At considerable expense, I might add.” Troy shook his head. “The man buried his identity deeper than Jimmy Hoffa.”

“You have a private investigator?” she absently demanded, flicking through the various pages.

She paused to take in the photos of the large stucco mansion surrounded by palm trees that was Luc’s true home and an unmistakable picture of Luc and Salvatore meeting in a park several miles west of Chicago.

Another shaft of pain sliced through her heart.

“It’s a dangerous world these days,” Troy explained. “You can’t trust anyone.”

“No shit.” She threw the folder across the room, watching the papers fan across her carpet.

Troy nervously cleared his throat. “Are you going to be okay?”

Was she?

At the moment she wasn’t entirely certain.

The pain and disappointment clawing through her felt lethal.

Then realizing that the imp was watching her with a sympathy she couldn’t stomach, she gave a toss of her hair.

“I’m Sophia,” she announced, her head held high. “No man’s going to get me down. Even if he is a lying, mangy piece of shit.”

Troy gave a snap of his fingers, a smile curving his lips. “You go, girl.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Sophia headed for the door, her need to find Luc an overwhelming compulsion.

“Uh, Sophia,” Troy called out.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“If you decide to kill Luc you need to make sure you hide the body,” he warned. “I doubt that your son-in-law would be happy to learn you offed his most trusted soldier.”

A humorless smile curved her lips. “Actually I was thinking I could use a new fur rug in front of my fireplace.”

Troy’s eyes widened. “Yikes.”

Leaving the office, Sophia headed out of the club, her fierce glare keeping the milling employees at bay.

She wasn’t in the mood to deal with clogged drains and missing G-strings.

In fact, the only thing she was in the mood for was blood and mayhem.

Storming out a side door, she was halfway across the parking lot when she heard a faint click. She slowed her furious pace at the same minute she felt a prick in her upper chest. Looking down she realized there was a small dart sticking from her skin.

What the ... ?

That was as far as her confused mind managed to get before her muscles became paralyzed and she was tumbling toward the paved ground. Then her head was smacking face-first into the pavement and the entire world exploded into black.

Waking, Sophia cautiously held herself still as she took stock.

She hadn’t gone to the great kennels in the sky, thank the gods.

She had a throbbing head, and she could feel an odd metal collar strapped around her neck, but the rest of her seemed to be back in working order.

Cautiously she allowed her senses to spread further.

She was in a basement, she realized with a stab of surprise. Or at least underground.

And night had fallen while she had been conked out.

Oh, and the stench of cur was thick in the air.

The same scent she’d caught mere seconds before she’d been shot by the dart.

A growl trickled from her throat as she wrenched open her eyes to discover Morton leaning over her, his face the nasty color of paste in the fluorescent light.

“You.” She surged to a sitting position, barely noticing the narrow cot beneath her as Morton hastily backed away. “Bastard.”