Predatory

Prologue

Valhalla was the stuff of myths.

Named for the home of the Norse gods, the sprawling compound was a safe house for those people too “special” to be mainstreamed into society (a nice way of saying an orphanage for the children and adults unwanted by their families). Everyone knew that it was a home for freaks.

Witches, psychics, necromancers, Sentinels, and God only knew what else roamed the grounds protected by a layer of powerful spells. It was a source of fear and fascination for the entire world, but most especially for the citizens of the small, Midwest town who could catch the shimmer of blue reflecting off the protective dome that hid the house from view. And even glimpse the rare sight of the freaks entering and leaving the compound, although people were smart enough to spy on them from a distance.

There were, of course, citizens who called for the entire place to be nuked.

The freaks were dangerous, with powers that none of them truly understood. Who knew what the monsters would do if someone pissed them off?

There were others who said they should be locked away and studied like lab rats. Perhaps their mutations could be used to help normal people.

Most, however, preferred to ignore Valhalla and the high-bloods—as they preferred to be called—living behind the dome.

Until, of course, they needed them.

Chapter One

The nightclub near the University of Missouri wasn’t anything to brag about. Hell, it wasn’t much more than a leaking roof held up by four walls and a prayer. In the center was a cramped dance floor surrounded by tables and at the back a long bar ran the length of the wall. Up the narrow staircase you could find pool tables and a few old-time pinball machines, while in the back parking lot the dealers strolled from car to car, searching for shoppers interested in less legal means of intoxication.

A typical college hangout.

Seated in a booth nearly obscured by shadows, Angela Locke watched the crowd of college students bump and grind to a heavy beat that was making her eye twitch.

Not that she wasn’t enjoying herself, she sternly chided herself. She might be a few years older than most of the kids in the club, but that didn’t mean she was a complete party pooper. Right?

On cue she winced as two girls shrieked with laughter at a nearby table, the aggravating sound some sort of homing signal to the guys who eagerly crowded around their table.

Okay, this wasn’t really her scene.

She’d spent the majority of her twenty-six years in musty libraries or high-tech labs, which meant she was more comfortable with petri dishes and microscopes than the opposite sex.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted as she belatedly realized she was no longer alone.

Glancing up, she met Megan Wagner’s exasperated frown. The pretty, pleasantly rounded blonde was one of Angela’s few friends at the university. In the process of recovering from a disastrous marriage, the older woman was taking classes to earn her teaching degree.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Megan complained. “I didn’t bring you here to hide in the corner.”

Angela wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather hide in corners than park myself in the spotlight where everyone can see me sitting alone.”

Megan folded her arms under her ample bosom, her lush curves displayed in a tight red dress and her blonde curls allowed to fall freely over her shoulders.

“You wouldn’t be alone if you didn’t put out vibes that you’re—”

“A geek? A nerd? A first-class egghead?” Angela offered wryly.

“Unavailable.”

“Are you kidding?” Angela shot a glance down at her jade stretchy top that was scooped low enough to reveal the soft curve of her breasts and the too-tight jeans that threatened her circulation. “In this outfit I not only look available, I look like I charge by the hour.”

“It’s not your clothes. It’s your attitude.”

Angela blinked. Attitude? She didn’t know she had an attitude.

“What do you want me to do?”

Megan placed her hands flat on the table, eying Angela with the same stern expression she used on her students at the local preschool.

“Pay attention to the men who are here, not the one who isn’t.”

Angela tried to squelch the renegade blush that stole beneath her cheeks.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean that it’s all fine and dandy to moon over Professor Hottie, but what’s it gotten you?” A blonde brow arched. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”

Angela ducked her head, allowing her finger to trace the beads of moisture that trickled down her untouched drink.

Professor Hottie.

Or, better known as Dr. Nikolo Bartrev.

He’d arrived at the university six weeks before. A tall, dark stranger who’d been invited by the president to review their science curriculum. Angela didn’t know precisely what his work entailed, but she did know that one glance into those pale blue eyes and she’d been lost.

Head over heels in lust for the first time in her life.

A damned shame he didn’t return her aching need.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she muttered.

“And that’s the point,” Megan pressed. “He stops by your lab once a day—”

“Sometimes it’s twice.”

Megan snorted. “He makes a little chitchat and disappears.”

Angela hunched a shoulder. It was true enough.

The first time Dr. Bartrev had strolled into her lab she’d nearly had a heart attack. She’d just finished teaching a freshman biology class and he’d waited for the giggling girls to drag themselves past him before he slowly approached her desk.

She hadn’t known what to expect, but after a few minutes of questioning her about her research, he’d turned and left.

Just like that.

Since that day, he’d made a habit of stopping by when she was in the lab, sometimes discussing her research and other times just randomly discussing her day.

She assumed that he was cleverly extracting information from her to use in his assessment, but she didn’t have a clue what he was searching for.

And she didn’t care.

His fleeting visits were enough to make her giddy for the rest of the day.

“So?” she muttered.

“Has he ever revealed anything remotely personal about himself?”

Angela grimaced. After six weeks she didn’t know a damned thing about the man.

Well, she knew the precise scent of his warm male cologne. And the way his cashmere sweaters stretched over a wide chest and how his pants clung to his tight ass.

But anything about the man beneath the gorgeous exterior? Nothing. Nada. Niente.

“No.”

“Has he ever asked you out, even to lunch?”

“No.”

“Has he ever brought you anything? Flowers, candy, a bagel from the cafeteria?”

“No.”

“Has he tried to get his hand down your shirt?”

“No.”

Megan heaved a sigh. “Honey, that man ain’t interested, no matter how much you might want him to be.”

Angela lifted her head to meet her friend’s sympathetic gaze. “I know.”

The blonde grabbed the plastic sword that held a candied cherry from Angela’s glass.

“Then drink your gin fizz and give that nice stud muffin by the door a big smile.” She pointed the sword toward the delectable blond Neanderthal standing across the dance floor. “And remember—”

“Remember what?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Angela rolled her eyes. She had a mirror. She might not be the Bride of Frankenstein, but she was a long way from beautiful.

Average brown hair she kept in a ponytail. Average height with average curves. Average features that were pale from the hours she spent in the lab.

The only thing remarkable was the wide brown eyes that were heavily framed with dark lashes, but most of the time they were hidden behind her protective lab glasses.

In summation she was . . . average.

“It’s going to take more than one gin fizz to make me believe in fairy tales,” she retorted.

“Maybe a kiss will wake you, Sleeping Beauty.” Megan waggled her brows. “She was, after all, the first true wallflower.”

Angela gave a choked laugh. Her friend charged through life at full throttle.

“I wish I could be like you, Megan,” she said wistfully, thinking of all the nights she sat in her cramped apartment alone.

Always alone.

“Yeah, right,” Megan scoffed. “You’re a genius who’s only weeks away from receiving your PhD in molecular biology and I’m trying to struggle through my undergraduate degree.”

Angela shook her head. Because of finances Megan was forced to take night classes while she worked full-time, but there was no doubt her love for children would allow her to achieve her goals.

“You know you’re a fabulous teacher, not to mention . . .” Angela’s comforting words dissolved into a silent shock as her heart slammed against her ribs.

Oh hell.

“Hey, that was just getting good,” Megan grumbled. Then, noticing that Angela’s attention had strayed, she frowned in confusion. “What’s wrong? Did Professor Lewis get drunk again and take off his pants?”

Angela reached for her glass to take a deep drink of the gin fizz.

“He’s here.”

“Who?”

“Niko.” She grimaced as the overly sweet drink hit her empty stomach. “I mean, Professor—”

“Hottie?”

“Yep.”

Helplessly she watched his determined approach.

Oh . . . crap, but he was gorgeous. From the tip of his glossy dark hair that was threaded with hints of autumn fire and tousled as if he’d just run his hands through the short strands, to the tips of his Italian shoes.

His lean face was perfectly carved with a wide brow and narrow nose. His cheekbones were angular, hinting at his Slavic origins, and his jaw surprisingly stubborn with just a shadow of stubble from his heavy beard.

He wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination “pretty.” His features were too hard, too ruthless, for that. But there was something compellingly beautiful about his sheer maleness, and when he offered one of his rare smiles . . . well, there wasn’t a female on campus who didn’t do a little melting.

He was dark and broody and delectable. The sort of man who haunted the fantasies of every repressed virgin.

And if she’d caught sight of a menacing glint in the piercing blue eyes that spoke of hidden power and predatory danger, well, she’d convinced herself that it only made him more exciting.

“Okay, I have to admit he is lickable,” Megan grudgingly conceded, glancing over her shoulder. “Like a double-fudge ice cream cone.”

“Megan,” Angela protested, although she couldn’t deny the desire to tug off his blue sweater and gray Chinos to do a bit of tongue therapy.

Megan turned back to stab her with a warning gaze. “He’s also gay or married.”

Angela’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”

“Because he hasn’t tried to get you in bed.” Megan leaned toward her. “Don’t let him ruin your night.”

With a tug on Angela’s hair, that was for once left to brush her shoulders, Megan was disappearing toward the bar, leaving Angela alone to face the man now towering beside her table.

“Hello, Angela,” he greeted, his voice a dark velvet rasp that sent renegade shivers of excitement down her spine.

Oh . . . crap.

She licked her dry lips, trying to squash the embarrassing thrills of excitement.

“Dr. Bartrev,” she breathed, her voice barely audible over the music blasting from the overhead speakers.

With a fluid ease, he perched on the edge of the table, his hard thigh brushing her arm.

“I thought we agreed to Niko?”

Yeah. She was so not going down that road.

He was Niko in her fantasies. In real life . . . well, she needed to avoid making an idiot of herself.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said instead.

“I could say the same.” His brooding gaze shifted to the surrounding crowd that was amping up the loud factor with every round of tequila. “This isn’t your usual style.”

She shrugged. “Megan convinced me this was my last chance to get out and party before everyone leaves for spring break.”

“Ah.” The piercing blue eyes returned to study her upturned face. Angela shivered beneath the sheer intensity of that gaze. He had an uncanny habit of appearing completely focused on whatever he was doing. “A girls’ night out.”

“Something like that.” She managed a smile. Play it cool, Angela. It’s not attractive to drool all over the handsome professor. “What are you doing here?”

“Actually, I was concerned.”

She stiffened. “Concerned?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” She sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly struck by a terrifying thought. “Is there something wrong with my research?”

“Your work is flawless. As always,” he swiftly eased her fear, a strange edge in his voice although she was too relieved to notice. “It’s something we’ll discuss later.”

“Then what is it?”

He hesitated, almost as if considering his words.

“I heard rumors there was a stalker in the area.”

“A stalker?” She blinked in surprise. The small Midwest town had its share of petty crime, but violence was extremely rare. “In town or on campus?”

“The person has been seen on campus as well as in the surrounding neighborhoods.”

“I haven’t heard anything. Have the police been notified?”

“Of course.” His gaze swept down to her breasts that were on blatant display, and just for a moment she thought she might have seen a flicker of heat in the icy depths. Then, clearly unimpressed, he returned his interest to her flushed face. “You haven’t noticed anything unusual, have you?”

She shook her head, telling herself she didn’t give a damn. “Not that I can think of.”

“There haven’t been any strangers lurking around?”

Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. “Most people will tell you that I’m not the most observant person,” she said, recalling her mother’s resigned complaint that Angela could recite the periodic table when she was barely five, but didn’t know the name of one classmate. She hastily squashed the age-old pain before it could fully form. Her mother’s death last year meant that the older woman could no longer be disappointed in her only child. “Outside the lab I tend to be distracted.”

“What about when you’re home?” he demanded. “Have you seen anyone new in the neighborhood?”

“No.” She frowned. “Shouldn’t the police be asking these questions?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “They didn’t want to spook the students so I agreed to do a bit of discreet investigating for them.”

“Oh.” It seemed weird to have a visiting professor investigating a potential stalker, but what did she know? “I’m sorry I can’t help.”

He reached into his pocket to pull out a pen, scribbling on a piece of napkin.

“Here,” he murmured, folding the paper before he lightly pressed it into her unresisting fingers.

Angela’s heart slammed against her ribs as pleasure exploded through her. Her head might warn her to stop weaving futile fantasies about this man, but her body hadn’t received the memo.

His fingers were hot—shockingly hot—against her skin. A branding heat that sent darts of excitement to the pit of her stomach.

And his scent was wrapping around her like a cloak of invitation.

“What is it?” she husked, becoming lost in the astonishing blue of his eyes.

“My phone number.”

“Phone number?”

“I want you to call me.”

Her heart gave another stuttering leap. “You do?”

“Yes.”

“I . . .” She licked her suddenly dry lips. “When?”

“The very minute you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

Shit. She came back to earth with a resounding crash.

The stalker. Right.

She lowered her head, determined he wouldn’t guess her flare of humiliation.

“Okay.”

“If you notice anything,” he insisted. “No matter how small.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Without warning his hand was cupping her chin, tilting her face up so he could study her with a faint frown.

“You promise?”

There was another jolt of sensation before she was pulling free of his destructive touch and rising to her feet with a stubborn expression.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Angela—”

“I need to find Megan.”

Chapter Two

Standing near the railing of the second floor of the nightclub, Nikolo studied the throng of people that moved below him.

College students jerked and hopped around the dance floor while townies and aging professors lined the bar at the back.

Over and over, his gaze skimmed the swarm of norms before returning to the slender brunette who’d moved to a front table with her friend.

He didn’t worry about the aggravating scientist catching sight of him. He couldn’t actually make himself invisible, but he could . . . convince people not to notice him.

It was a talent of most Sentinels. Along with heightened senses, predatory instincts, and a cunning patience that would allow him to track his prey from one end of the world to other if necessary.

He also had the ability to sense when a high-blood was near.

Of course, the public was far more accustomed to the Sentinels who performed as guardians to high-bloods. Those Sentinels were raised and trained by monks in mysterious arts that were never spoken of outside the monasteries. They were also heavily tattooed to protect them from being controlled by psychics or attacked with spells.

They were lethal beasts, but they were also ridiculously noticeable in a crowd.

Massive killers tattooed from the top of their bald heads to the tips of their toes tended to attract attention.

Which is why the Sentinels also needed hunters who could travel unnoticed.

Hunters like him. Oh, and the man currently standing a few feet away.

Never allowing his gaze to stray from Angela Locke, he gave a tiny motion of his hand. All high-bloods understood you didn’t approach a Sentinel when he was locked on his prey.

Bad, bad things could happen.

“Arel,” he murmured, recognizing the scent of the fellow Sentinel.

The younger man stepped forward, the flashing strobe lights shimmering over the honey highlights in his light brown hair and turning his eyes to molten gold.

Most humans dismissed Arel as a charming playboy. A role he performed with consummate skill. But those trained to look beneath the surface could detect the muscles honed to lean perfection beneath his casual T-shirt and faded jeans, and the ruthless determination that simmered deep in the gold eyes.

“Dylan?” Arel murmured softly.

Niko grimaced at the mention of the female high-blood they’d been hunting for the past six weeks.

“Still in the wind.”

“Are you positive she’ll show up here?”

Niko didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“And you’re always right?”

“Always.”

Arel snorted. “You know you’re an arrogant SOB, don’t you, Niko?”

Niko shrugged. Yep, he knew. But his confidence wasn’t just conceit.

From the second Dylan had murdered her two guards to escape from Valhalla, he’d dedicated every waking moment to studying his prey.

He knew the day and hour Dylan had been born. He knew that she’d been less than a week old when her parents had left her in the field outside Valhalla. He knew that she nursed a bitter fury at having been abandoned by her family despite her welcome among the high-bloods. Perhaps because she was one of the unfortunate freaks that had been born with a mutation that left her with startling crimson eyes and large black spots on her skin, like a cheetah. Unlike many high-bloods she’d been unable to pass as norm, which only increased her resentment.

Or maybe she’d just been born a psychopath.

Being given special powers didn’t mean that a person was automatically a superhero.

High-bloods possessed all the usual failings of norms. Only they could do a hell of a lot more damage if they weren’t contained.

Which was where Niko and his fellow Sentinels came in.

He shrugged. “I know what she’s going to do before she does,” he said.

“And you think because she’d been searching through Calder’s files on your scientist that she’s coming here?”

“Yes.”

Niko had been baffled at first when he’d discovered that Dylan had been sneaking into the Master of Gifts’ office. Calder and his order were dedicated to tracking down those high-bloods who either didn’t realize they were “special” or were trying to pass as normal. Like a Sentinel they possessed the ability to sense talents, even latent talents, although they used their skills to convince high-bloods to join with their brethren at Valhalla, or in one of the many compounds located around the world. While Niko . . . well, his duties weren’t quite so nice.

At last he’d put together the reasons for Dylan’s late-night visits to Calder’s office.

And it had everything to do with Angela Locke.

“Not that I’m questioning your conclusion, amigo,” Arel said in dry tones, “but why is she currently on a killing spree through Texas?”

“She’s trying to disguise her true purpose and throw us off her trail.”

“For six weeks?”

“She’s always been patient.”

“True.” Arel’s features hardened, his charming smile replaced by a cold hatred. Both Niko and Arel had reason to want Dylan tracked down and destroyed. The sooner the better. “She must have planned her escape from Valhalla for months.”

“Years,” he corrected.

“We can’t keep cleaning up her kills, Niko.” Arel grimaced. “There have been five more. Plus the losses we suffered—”

“I know how many she’s killed,” Niko interrupted. He couldn’t discuss Fiona’s bloody murder.

Not yet.

“Then you’ll understand that I was sent by the Tagos to warn you that you have until the end of the month,” Arel said, referring to the ultimate leader of the Sentinels. “After that he wants you on the trail in Texas.”

Niko shrugged, unperturbed by the warning. “Dylan will be here before then.”

Arel snorted. “You’re good, but you’re no psychic. How can you be so certain?”

“Spring break starts at the end of classes tomorrow,” he said, his gaze narrowing as he watched Angela being led to the edge of the dance floor by a blond jackass who obviously ate steroids like candy. No mere mortal had those kinds of muscles without pharmaceutical help. He didn’t like the way the bastard was staring at her overexposed breasts. In fact, he might very well find a way to make Blondie disappear if he laid a hand on the vulnerable female. “It will be the perfect opportunity to make Angela Thorne disappear.”

“It’s a little late for her to try and be subtle, isn’t it?” Arel demanded.

“She wanted to attract attention to draw us south. Now she’ll want to fly below the radar. She won’t want us knowing that she has the scientist,” he pointed out, his tone absent as his attention remained homed in on the female who was moving with a surprising grace. “Besides, it’s far more difficult to disappear when you have a hostage.”

Easily sensing Niko’s distraction, Arel leaned against the railing.

“Is she the real deal?”

“Yeah, she’s the real deal.” Niko forced himself to shift his attention back to his companion. Until Dylan was dead he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Especially not by this particular female. “Calder intended to bring her to the compound after she graduated.”

“Why wait?”

“He wanted the female to enjoy being normal for as long as possible.”

Arel gave a grunt of laughter. “He’s always been too softhearted for his own good.”

“You won’t get an argument from me.”

“While you’re a coldhearted Sentinel who’s willing to use an innocent female as bait for a psycho killer.”

Arel’s words rasped a raw nerve that Niko didn’t even know he possessed until he’d crossed paths with the pretty young scientist who’d slayed him with one shy smile.

Dammit.

Angela Locke was a pawn.

And like any pawn she was supposed to be expendable.

So why had he spent the past six weeks imagining her stretched beneath him as he taught her the true meaning of biology?

He swallowed a low growl. “I get results.”

“True enough . . .” Arel’s words ended with a low whistle as the frantic music ended and Angela turned to reveal her slender curves so shockingly revealed by those too-tight jeans and the shirt that should be illegal. Damn, Megan. It had to be her influence. “Hellooo. You didn’t say anything about her being a beauty.”

“Because it has nothing to do with the job,” he snapped.

Arel smiled with a slow anticipation. “Hey, if you don’t want to bed her, I will.”

Niko hissed at his unexpected surge of fury. He was never possessive of women. Not even when they were his lovers.

It had to be this job.

He was . . . on edge. Anxious to find Dylan and make her pay for what she’d done to Fiona.

That had to be it.

Feeling the weight of Arel’s all-too-knowing gaze, he sent his fellow Sentinel a scowl.

“Don’t you have someplace you have to be?”

A mysterious smile played around the younger man’s lips. “Yes, but I don’t mind changing assignments.”

“Go away, Arel.”

Arel chuckled before he placed a hand on Niko’s shoulder. “Take care. I’ve already lost two friends. I won’t lose another.”

Chapter Three

Usually the small apartment three blocks away from the campus was a place of peace for Angela.

Not that anyone else would share her opinion.

Most people would shudder at the worn furniture that she’d picked up at second-hand stores and garage sales. Not to mention the bedroom that was overflowing with unpacked boxes from her mother’s house. Boxes that were filled with painful memories she wasn’t prepared to open.

And oh yeah, a kitchen that had become a mini-lab with microscopes, petri dishes, test tubes, and three small fridges that contained her current experiments.

Hardly the palace most women dreamed of.

But for Angela it was far better than a palace.

It was her safe haven.

The moment she closed the door she could forget the day, along with the frustrating challenge of trying to fit in a world that always seemed slightly out of focus.

Today, however, there was no peace as she shut and locked the door.

Pacing across the living room, she peeked through the curtains at the empty street below.

It had started this morning.

She’d spent the entire day with the sensation she was being watched by some unseen lurker.

And she laid full blame on the shoulders of Dr. Nikolo Bartrev.

Not because of his abrupt arrival and equally abrupt departure from the club last night, although the aggravating man had taken away any hope of enjoying the night. Oh, she’d gone through the routine for Megan’s sake. She’d danced, she’d sipped her gin fizz, and laughed on cue, but the evening had gone flat.

No, she was used to wishing for things she could never have.

It was his warning of a mysterious stalker that had her jumping at shadows.

Seeing nothing but the usual joggers and occasional car drive past, she gave a shake of her head.

What had she expected?

A stranger wearing a hockey mask and lurking on the sidewalk?

Or maybe a car in the parking lot with a sign that said STALKERS “R” US?

“This is stupid,” she muttered, stepping away from the window and heading into the kitchen.

Spring break had officially started. Classes were out, the majority of the students were even now fleeing town for warmer climes, and she would have a blessed, uninterrupted week to work on her private research.

No doubt Megan would toss her hands up in defeat, but as far as Angela was concerned she’d rather be concentrating on her work than wasting her days on an overcrowded beach.

Okay, maybe if the beach included Professor Hottie she might consider—

Entering the kitchen, Angela came to a halt, a strange sense of alarm tingling down her spine.

Someone had been in here.

She didn’t know exactly how she could be so certain. Perhaps the microscope had been shifted ever so slightly. Or maybe there was a lingering scent she didn’t quite recognize.

Whatever the cause, her vague unease became full on, adrenaline-charging alarm as she whirled around, intent on fleeing the apartment.

A wise decision that came too late.

She barely managed a step before the door was blocked by a slender figure.

Angela’s heart slammed to a halt as she took a swift inventory of the intruder.

The stranger wasn’t much taller than her, and was dressed from head to toe in black. Black leather pants. Black turtleneck sweater. Black ski mask.

Good grief. Did stalkers have a uniform code?

She swallowed a hysterical urge to laugh, sternly reminding herself that she was in danger.

Despite the fact the intruder was more or less the same size as herself and clearly female, she wasn’t fooled. Beneath the tight clothes she could make out hard, lean muscles that warned the intruder could tie Angela into a painful pretzel.

Or worse.

“Who are you?” she managed to croak, her mind sluggishly trying to shift through her limited options.

No. Not limited.

Nonexistent.

Her cell phone was in her purse that she’d left in the living room. There was no doubt a knife was tucked in her silverware drawer, but it was across the room. And there was nothing close enough at hand to use as a weapon.

For now her options were talking her way out of danger or hoping for a miracle.

Neither seemed likely.

Casually leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb the intruder revealed she was in far better control of her nerves than Angela.

“Would you believe a friend?”

“No.”

A nonchalant shrug. “Then let’s say I’m a potential customer.”

“Customer?” Angela frowned before she gave a small gasp of understanding. “Oh. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. But I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake.”

The woman adjusted her black glove. Preparing for violence?

“I rarely make mistakes,” she drawled. Her voice was oddly beautiful. Almost hypnotic.

Angela licked her lips, flicking a brief glance toward the expensive equipment that was piled on the kitchen table.

“I know it must look like I manufacture drugs, but I’m just a scientist,” she said, her palms damp. Had the temperature gone up? Or was it sheer terror that was making her feel as if her sweatshirt and jeans were smothering her? “There’s nothing here that will get you high.”

“Just a scientist?” The stranger gave a chiding shake of her head. “Now, now, Angela. There’s no need for such modesty. You’re already considered the brilliant star in the world of genetics.”

Angela took a shocked step back. “You know me?”

“Of course. I’ve been following your career with breathless anticipation.”

Okay. The whole encounter had just shifted from scary to terrifyingly creepy.

“Who are you?” she repeated the question that had never been answered.

The intruder straightened, taking a step into the kitchen. “A devoted fan.”

Fan? Did scientists have groupies?

Well, beyond Stephen Hawking?

“Look, I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m just a postgraduate student struggling to finish her dissertation,” she said, her voice quivering. “If you want to speak with an actual researcher—”

“It’s you I want,” the woman interrupted.

“For what?”

“A job.”

The simple words caught Angela off guard.

Was that why this woman had snuck into her home?

She’d been warned that recruiters could be aggressive when trying to capture the top graduates. Especially recruiters from pharmaceutical companies. But this was beyond ridiculous.

“Actually, I haven’t really considered what I plan to do after graduation, but—”

“I’m afraid it’s something of a rush job.”

With a lift of her hand the stranger yanked off her stocking hat and Angela nearly went to her knees in shock.

“Holy crap,” she muttered, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

The . . . woman (yeah, she was still convinced the intruder was female despite the fact she was completely bald) had eyes that were as red as rubies and a nose that was oddly flat. Like a snake. And worse, her visible skin was patterned with large, dark spots that went way beyond freckles.

The intruder smiled. Not a pleasant smile. More a stretching of her thin lips.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Were you—”

“Born this way?” The woman pulled off her gloves, revealing her hands that were spotted like her face and tipped with claws. “Yes.”

Angela tried to clear the mammoth-sized lump from her throat.

“So you’re a—”

“Freak.”

Everyone knew of high-bloods, or freaks, as most people called them. The special people born with some sort of mutation that made them different from others.

Not that the general population truly knew much about them. There were rumors of witches and psychics and necromancers. And the strange Sentinels. Then there were the whispers that there were true monsters being hidden behind the walls of Valhalla.

As a future geneticist, Angela devoured the bits and pieces of information on the high-bloods. Unfortunately the Mave who ruled the residents of Valhalla and the satellite communities refused to allow her people to be studied. Only scientists who were a part of their community were allowed any research. Even local doctors were forced to contact Valhalla if a freak turned up in the ER. And anyone trying to collect genetic material was subject to punishment by the Mave.

Not something anyone would be willing to risk.

Now, however, she realized that her clinical fascination with high-blood DNA hadn’t taken into account the brutal truth of what it meant to be . . . different.

The personal cost was written in the bitter glow of the crimson eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Angela whispered before she could halt the impulsive words.

The female snorted. “Not nearly as sorry as I am.”

Yeah, Angela got that.

“What do you want from me?”

“Simple. I want you to fix me.”

“Fix you?” Angela parroted, her brilliant brain trained to comprehend logical facts, not . . . this. “I’m not a doctor.”

“Do I look like a fucking doctor could cure me?”

Angela took another step backward, her ass hitting the edge of the sink.

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Your gift is to alter DNA.” The woman pulled off her other glove and tossed it on the ground. Then she ran her fingers over her bald head. “I want you to make me normal.”

Through her fog of fear, Angela felt a stab of sympathy. She understood the woman’s desperation. She truly did.

But, sympathizing with the stranger didn’t mean she could help her.

“That’s impossible.”

The crimson eyes narrowed. “Nothing in this world is impossible.”

“Maybe not, but the technology isn’t anywhere near advanced enough. At least not yet.”

“Technology?” Something that might have been amusement rippled over the strange, exotic face. “I’m not talking about test tubes and microscopes.”

“I don’t understand.”

The woman waved a hand toward the kitchen table. “Why do you bother with this junk anyway?”

Was this some sort of trick?

“I need it for my research,” she said slowly. “Although I admit it can’t compare to my lab at the university.”

“Come on, Angela,” the intruder scoffed. “You don’t have to hide the truth from me.”

Angela went rigid with a strange sense of wariness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The woman gave a sharp laugh. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

“You, Angela Locke, are a freak.”

“No.” Angela shook her head, squashing the ridiculous urge to slap her hands over her ears. The woman was nuts. A full-blown wackadoodle. “No way.”

“How do you think you’re able to manipulate cells that no one else can?”

Angela sucked in a ragged breath. Why wasn’t she laughing at the woman’s outrageous claims?

“The magnetic particles I’ve developed—”

“No.” The woman stepped close enough for Angela to feel the heat she radiated from her skin even through her clothes. Obviously her mutation made her run at a higher temperature. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“This is crazy.” Angela was trapped, reaching behind her to grasp the edge of the counter. Her knees were threatening to collapse. “I want you out of my apartment.”

“If you insist.” The creepy smile returned as the woman reached out with terrifying speed to lock her hands around Angela’s upper arms, her claws digging through the sweatshirt to puncture the tender skin beneath. “I was going to let you pack a bag, but whatever.”

“Stop it,” Angela cried, fear and pain hammering through her with equal force. “What are you doing?”

The crimson eyes glowed with an eerie light. “I have a comfy little home all prepared for our arrival. You’re not leaving my side until you fix me.”

Her grip tightened, but even as Angela braced herself to be dragged from the room kicking and screaming, the stranger was tilting back her head to sniff the air. Like an animal.

Angela shuddered. Oh . . . God. What now?

In answer, the woman whirled toward the door, her hands clenched in tight fists.

“Niko,” she hissed, not nearly as dumbfounded as Angela as a tall, stunningly familiar man stepped into the kitchen.

“Dylan,” Dr. Nikolo Bartrev drawled, his handsome face carved from granite. “I knew you’d eventually show up here.”

It was rare for Nikolo to be caught flat-footed.

No, it wasn’t rare.

It was never.

But trailing Angela from the university to her apartment building, he’d taken time to make a sweep of the neighborhood. He was certain Dylan was going to make her move. And make it soon.

He just hadn’t expected her to already be in the apartment.

A mistake that might have cost Angela her life.

The realization detonated a strange explosion of fear and fury in the depths of his soul.

A sensation that was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected.

Niko was trained to hone his feelings into a smooth blade of cold, calculating resolve. Becoming emotional only clouded his mind and dulled his instincts.

But silently entering the apartment, he hadn’t been worried about his prey. Or even his own life.

His sole focus was reaching Angela before she could be hurt.

Stepping into the kitchen he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Dylan standing directly in front of Angela. Shit. She was too close to risk an attack.

One swing of her hand and she could crush Angela’s skull. Or use her claws to rip out her throat.

He swallowed a growl, ignoring the voice that warned his hesitation might cost him the opportunity to put an end to Dylan’s murderous rampage.

He would have his revenge, he grimly assured himself. But not at Angela’s expense.

Wiping all expression from his face, he watched Dylan slowly turn, her crimson eyes filled with a mocking amusement that didn’t entirely disguise her seething frustration.

“Long time no see,” she drawled. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a fucking hole in the head,” he retorted, allowing only a brief glance toward Angela who was studying him with a shocked gaze. “You gave up any claim to loyalty when you killed Adam and Fiona.”

“I know you won’t believe me, but I wish their deaths hadn’t been necessary.”

Niko shrugged aside the female’s genuine regret. He’d been the one to discover the two Sentinels. Adam had lost his throat when he’d obviously gone into Dylan’s room to check on her, while Fiona had been shot in the back of her head while standing guard at the entrance to the psych ward.

Adam had been a longtime friend, while Fiona had been as close as any daughter to him.

He would mourn their deaths for the rest of his life.

“It was a choice, not a necessity.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dylan countered. “You weren’t chained to the walls like an animal.”

“For your own safety.” Niko made a sound of disgust. “Of course, that was a ruse, wasn’t it? You never intended to kill yourself.”

The female shrugged. “I needed to distract attention. I knew I was being watched.”

Niko narrowed his eyes. It had been one of the clairvoyants who’d picked up on Dylan’s growingly dark thoughts, although the Sentinel had the ability to hide her secret plans. It was enough to put a constant surveillance on the unstable female.

“Because you’re a psychopath.”

“So easy for you to judge when you walk around like a Greek god,” Dylan hissed. “How would you feel if you looked like a monster?”

He deliberately allowed his gaze to roam over the spotted skin and too-flat nose before returning to meet the smoldering crimson glare.

“You’ve never been a monster to your family.”

“Family?” Her sharp laugh sliced through the air. “My family tossed me away at birth.”

“We were your family,” he reminded her. All high-bloods were welcomed at Valhalla and Dylan had been raised by people who loved her. “Your parents gave you to us because they understood the challenges you would face and trusted us to protect you.”

She gave a restless shake of her head, her madness refusing to acknowledge she’d been treated with nothing but kindness.

“How did you find me?”

“I’m a Sentinel.”

“My trail was in Texas.”

“You didn’t escape to kill humans.”

“So you knew I was coming for the scientist,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder at the white-faced Angela before turning back to Niko with a sudden realization. “Ah, you used her as bait.”

“Yes.”

There was a raw, pained sound from Angela that pierced Niko’s heart. Christ. That was a little tidbit he’d intended to keep to himself.

But even as he ground his teeth at the thought of Angela’s sense of betrayal, his gaze never strayed from Dylan.

The bitch was still too close to Angela for him to strike.

“Always so clever, Niko,” the Sentinel mocked.

Clever. Yeah, not clever enough to avoid his own trap, he acknowledged wryly, belatedly accepting that Dylan wasn’t the only one to have fallen for the bait.

He took a step forward. “It’s time to end this.”

“Oh no, this isn’t the end. The game is just beginning.” With the fluid speed of all Sentinels, Dylan turned to Angela, her hand shooting out to grasp her chin with claws that bit into the tender skin. “I’ll come for you later, sweet Angela. Niko can’t guard you forever.”

“Damn.”

Niko launched himself forward, but as fast as he was, Dylan was already leaping through the window over the sink and dropping the two stories to the parking lot below.

Without hesitation Niko was in pursuit.

Chapter Four

On some level Angela knew she must be in shock.

Otherwise she’d be curled in the middle of the floor screaming in terror. Or at the very least, calling nine-one-one.

Instead she stumbled toward her bedroom, barely aware of what she was doing as she found a gym bag on the floor of her closet and began stuffing it with clothes.

She had to get away.

Somewhere.

Anywhere.

The destination didn’t matter. Just so long as it wasn’t here.

Vaguely realizing the bag was full, she zipped it shut and rose to her feet.

It was only when she turned that she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Shit.” She dropped the bag, reaching behind her back to retrieve the carving knife she’d grabbed on her way out of the kitchen. “Stay back.”

In answer Niko took a deliberate step forward, his gaze flicking down to the bag at her feet.

“Good. You’ve packed.”

Her gaze locked on the handsome face that had filled her dreams for six long weeks. God. He looked so . . .

Abruptly her tight knot of fear exploded into sheer rage. “I told you to stay back,” she snarled, waving the knife in warning.

“Please, Angela.” He held up his hands. “You need to listen to me.”

Her heart squeezed with a crippling sense of betrayal. It didn’t matter that she’d known this man for less than two months. Or that he’d never made her any promises.

She’d felt a . . . connection to him.

A tenuous hope that he would be the one man to eventually see the woman beneath the awkward nerd.

God. Could she have been more delusional?

“So I can hear more lies, Dr. Bartrev?”

His eyes darkened, as if bothered by the harsh edge of accusation in her voice.

“My name isn’t a lie,” he said. “I’m Nikolo Bartrev.”

“You’re not a professor.”

“No.” He took another step forward and Angela shivered as he dropped his pretense of a harmless professor. It wasn’t like he’d snapped his fingers and transformed into another creature. It was more a subtle hardening of his dark, beautiful features. The squaring of his broad shoulders that looked even broader beneath the cream cable sweater. And the swirl of heat that poured through the room, stroking over her in silent warning. “I’m a Sentinel.”

She tossed aside the knife. It was worse than useless considering she was more likely to poke it into herself than harm the dangerous predator that watched her with his piercing blue gaze.

And he was a predator.

She could sense it with every fiber of her being.

“I thought Sentinels were marked with tattoos?”

“Those who act as guardians are protected by wards.”

“But not you?”

“No. I’m a hunter. I need to . . . blend when necessary.”

Her jaw clenched at the painful reminder of his charade.

Bastard.

“So what makes you a Sentinel?”

He hesitated, clearly considering his words. Did the high-bloods have a code of silence? She wouldn’t doubt it. There was very little information about them in the general population.

“I’m stronger and faster than most people,” he at last admitted. “I also have heightened senses.”

“And it’s your job to track down freaks.” She deliberately used the insult.

Beneath her overriding fear she was well and truly pissed.

Who could blame her?

Her chin was bleeding from the claws used by the creepy Dylan who intended to kidnap her and force her to play the role of Dr. Frankenstein. And this man—this arrogant jackass—had treated her like she was nothing more than an expendable object.

Something to be used and tossed away.

He gave a dip of his head. “Yes.”

“And you always get your man?”

His gaze briefly lowered to the soft curve of her breasts barely visible beneath her sweatshirt.

“Or woman.”

Her nipples tightened in instant reaction and she swallowed a curse. The tingling, heart-stopping heat that she’d always savored when near this man was now a brutal reminder of just how humiliatingly naïve she’d been.

“No matter who you have to use?”

He shoved impatient fingers through the short strands of his hair.

“Dylan killed two Sentinels to escape Valhalla, then twelve norms to try and draw us from her true purpose,” he rasped. “She has to be stopped.”

Angela grimaced. Fourteen people murdered? Okay. Obviously the psycho killer had to be captured.

But that didn’t make it any easier to know she’d been used as bait.

“How did you know she would be coming here?”

He shrugged. “You’re the only one who has the talent to alter her appearance.”

She was shaking her head before he finished speaking.

Dammit. Why were they trying to make her believe she was a freak?

Did they think it would make her more sympathetic to their cause?

“Not. In. The. Mood.”

“Fine.” Perhaps sensing she was on the verge of a meltdown, he wisely backed off. “We need to go now.”

“We?” She made a sound of disbelief. “Are you brain-dead? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he grimly held on to his temper.

“You don’t have a choice. Dylan’s not going to stop hunting you. Not until she’s dead.” He deliberately paused. “Or you are.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“No.” He was gripping her upper arms firmly before she even realized he’d moved. Holy shit. He wasn’t lying when he said he was faster. “You won’t.”

She tilted back her head, pretending his touch wasn’t searing through her sweatshirt.

The lover of my dreams is now my enemy, she fiercely reminded herself.

“So I’m a prisoner?”

His brows drew together in a scowl. “Dammit, Angela, I’m only trying to protect you.”

“A little late for that, don’t you think?”

“Late for what?”

She forced herself to meet his ruthless gaze. “If you truly wanted to protect me you’d have told me the truth from the beginning.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Of course not,” she mocked, not bothering to try and pull from his grasp. What was the point? He was clearly ten times stronger than her. Which should have made her wonder why she was pissed instead of terrified. “I’m just the bait, right?”

He heaved a harsh sigh. “I was never going to let you be hurt.”

Was he kidding?

She shook her head in disgust. “Well you did.”

He hissed, his hands skimming down to her wrists so he could tug her arms up as his gaze inspected her slender body.

“I’ve seen the scratches on your face. Are you wounded anywhere else?”

She jerked her wrist free and, balling her hand into a fist, she slugged him in the center of his chest.

“You hurt me, you bastard,” she hissed.

He tensed at her accusation. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“No?” Ignoring all sanity, she hit him again. “Then why did you pretend to be my friend?”

His beautiful face became wary. “I needed to be close to you.”

“Bullshit. You’re some magical Sentinel, aren’t you?” she demanded. “You could have watched without me ever knowing you were around. Instead you—”

“What?”

She shuddered at the aching sense of betrayal. She was used to being teased, or more often, ignored by the opposite sex. But she’d never been so callously humiliated.

“You let me think you liked me.”

“Angela.”

“God, I’m such an idiot.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. Hitting him only hurt her hand.

“Don’t,” he commanded, studying her with a brooding intensity. “You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.”

“Am I?” She gave a humorless laugh. “Then why did I spend my nights fantasizing about a man who was willing to offer me up as a sacrifice to a psychopath?”

Something dark and dangerous flared to life in his eyes. Something he’d never allowed her to see before.

But, even as Angela took an instinctive step backward, Niko was reaching to yank her against his unyielding chest.

Danger. Heat. Desire.

She squawked in surprise, her mouth opening to protest his manhandling.

And he kissed her.

Just like that.

His lips were hard, hungry, just as she’d always fantasized, but the brush of his tongue was a gentle caress. He pressed her closer and the feel of his thickening arousal sent a stab of excitement to the pit of her stomach.

She moaned, her hands lifting to his shoulders as fiery heat flowed like lava through her, searing away the world where she was being hunted by a mass murderer and this man was her enemy.

Somewhere in his lust-hazed mind, Niko knew he was behaving badly.

Even for a man who rarely bothered himself with tedious things like good manners or proper behavior, he understood you didn’t grab a woman who was furious with you and kiss her like a Neanderthal.

But he’d spent six long weeks denying his rampant desire for this female, pretending that she was just a pawn in his game while he used every excuse to spend time in her company.

Now shockwaves of pleasure jolted through him, making it all blindingly clear.

This woman wasn’t a pawn.

She wasn’t bait.

She was . . . his.

His hands trailed up the delicate line of her back, his cock already hard and aching for release. He groaned, his tongue dipping between her lips to taste the warm, sweet woman who’d plagued his dreams.

She shivered, but his hunter instincts were easily able to sense it wasn’t with fear.

He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, feel the rush of blood beneath her satin skin and catch the scent of her stirring arousal.

She was angry with him, but that didn’t halt her response to his touch.

His hand swept beneath the thick curtain of her hair, cupping her nape as he deepened the kiss.

He wanted to toss her on the bed just inches away and devour every satin inch of her. Over and over.

Unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Not only was Dylan still on the loose, but he suspected that Angela was far more innocent than most females her age.

When he finally had her in his bed he wanted all night to demonstrate why she should remain there.

Reluctantly lifting his head, he gazed down at her upturned face. Over the past weeks he’d memorized every line and curve of her delicate features. Not because of his Sentinel training, but because he’d been fascinated by her quiet beauty. The velvet darkness of her eyes and the lush curve of her mouth.

He’d even learned to recognize the play of emotion over her expressive features.

He knew when she furrowed her brow she was lost in her clever thoughts. And when she chewed her bottom lip she was feeling awkward in a conversation. And when her eyes grew dreamy she was thinking of him.

He stroked a finger over the soft color staining her cheeks.

“You are so beautiful.”

She sucked in a shaky breath, her wide eyes dazed. “What are you doing?”

His finger moved to outline her lips. How long had he’d wondered what they would taste like? It seemed an eternity.

Now he knew.

Cherries.

Fresh cherries still warm from the sunshine.

“What I wanted to do from the minute I caught sight of you.”

She briefly allowed herself to become lost in his gaze, revealing far more of her vulnerable need than she realized. Then, obviously remembering why he was in her bedroom, oh, and the fact she currently hated him, she gave a sharp shake of her head.

“Liar. This is some new trick to try and—”

He kissed her again.

Okay, maybe he was a Neanderthal. At least where Angela Locke was concerned.

He wanted to brand her. With his touch, his kiss, his passion . . .

He swallowed her choked groan, his hands shifting to tenderly cup her face. Slowly he savored the taste of cherries and delectable woman, his thumbs stroking over the fluttering pulse just below her jaw.

It wasn’t until she was arching toward him in silent need that he lifted his head to meet her unfocused gaze.

“You were right,” he murmured.

She blinked. “I was?”

“I could have watched you from the shadows.”

Another blink. “Then why didn’t you?”

He peered deep into her wide eyes. “You know why.”

“Niko—”

“We need to leave,” he interrupted, forcing himself to drop his hands.

He’d been a Sentinel for a very, very long time. And never had he lost sight of his goal.

But with this woman . . . dammit.

He was in real danger of allowing himself to be distracted.

Which was a perfect way to get them both killed.

She frowned, struggling to follow his words. “Leave?”

“Dylan hasn’t given up her obsession of becoming normal.”

“Oh.” She pushed back her hair with an unsteady hand. “I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why is she so anxious to become normal? There’s a lot of people like you, isn’t there?”

“Like us,” he corrected, knowing at some point she was going to have to accept that she was special. “And yes, there are high-bloods all over the world. But most are able to pass as common norms with a little effort.”

She ignored his reminder she wasn’t one of the norms. Typical. In the past six weeks he’d realized that Angela was capable of ignoring any number of things. Including her less than “normal” ability to manipulate cells.

“Is her physical appearance all that’s different about her?”

“No.” He held her gaze. “She’s a Sentinel. Like me.”

Her expression hardened at the reminder of his position. She might melt at his touch, but she wasn’t going to forgive anytime soon.

“A better Sentinel than you?” she taunted.

“No, not better than me.”

“Then why didn’t you catch her?”

A hell of a question.

When he’d followed Dylan through the window he’d fully intended to hunt her down and put an end to her bloody rampage. A fine plan, but Dylan wasn’t without her own skills and she managed to disguise her trail only a few blocks away.

Given time, Niko could have unraveled the various ruses that she’d used to hide her presence. He hadn’t been boasting when he assured Angela that he was the better Sentinel.

But even as his duty demanded he carry on his hunt no matter how long it took, the man in him was urging him back to Angela’s apartment.

He’d told himself that it only made sense. Dylan wasn’t going to leave without Angela. She was convinced the young scientist was her one hope of living a normal life. But in the depths of his heart he knew that wasn’t the reason he’d rushed back to the apartment.

“I couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t circle back,” he admitted with a reluctant honesty.

“And you were concerned for my safety?” She rolled her eyes, not able to hide her lingering sense of betrayal. “I’m touched.”

“Dammit.”

He’d royally screwed up. Fine, he got it. But now wasn’t the time to soothe ruffled feathers. He could defeat Dylan in a fair battle, but the Sentinel was no longer playing by the rules. Who knew what nasty surprises she might have up her sleeve? Hell, he didn’t even know for sure that she was working alone. He needed to get Angela somewhere safe.

With a grimace at the knowledge he was about to give this woman yet another reason to be pissed off, he grabbed her around the waist and with one smooth motion had her tossed over his shoulder.

“Hey,” she cried out, swinging her legs in an effort to hit the part of him that was as vulnerable as any man’s. “Put me down, you . . . you bully.”

Wrapping an arm around her knees, he locked her into place before reaching down to grab her bag from the floor.

Who knew that rescuing a damsel in distress could be such a pain in the ass?

Chapter Five

Angela stewed in silence as Niko headed his battered Jeep north, swiftly taking them away from the outskirts of Columbia to the farmlands that surrounded the town.

It was always a beautiful drive. The manicured fields dissected by meandering streams. The sturdy farmhouses that were dwarfed by red-painted barns, along with sheds and paddocks.

Today it was even more charming with the fading April sunlight offering a hint of spring and the tiny buds beginning to appear on the trees and bushes.

Unfortunately, she was too busy glaring at the stark male profile of Nikolo Bartrev to pay attention to the passing scenery.

He really was indecently handsome, she was forced to acknowledge, even as she considered the pleasure of punching hard enough to break his perfect nose.

He’d lied to her, used her, and now kidnapped her.

Okay, to be completely fair, he’d rescued her from the whacked-out freak. And she wasn’t entirely averse to having him near in case Dylan made a repeat appearance. At least until she could find someplace to hide.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still mad as hell.

Or that she wasn’t going to try to escape the very second she suspected he was about to serve her up to the wolves. Or in this case—the freaks.

She didn’t trust him any farther than she could throw him.

Which wasn’t very damned far.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted as the Jeep slowed and Niko halted in front of a heavy gate that blocked the narrow gravel road. Slipping out of the vehicle, he moved to punch a series of numbers onto a computer screen that was set in a small gatehouse before returning to steer the Jeep through the open gates and down the road that was lined with massive oak trees.

She frowned, abruptly conscious of just how isolated they were as he turned yet again and stopped in front of a picturesque log cabin that was nestled among the trees.

The front of the A-frame house was made entirely of glass, giving a hint of the large living room with a silver sectional couch loaded with bright pillows and a spiral staircase in the middle of the planked floor leading to the open loft above.

“What is this place?”

He put the Jeep in park and pocketed the keys. She grimaced, belatedly wishing she’d learned how to hot-wire a car.

Who knew it would come in handy?

“I’ve been staying here since traveling to Missouri.”

She blinked in surprise, her gaze returning to the house that managed to be elegant despite its rustic style.

It looked so . . . normal.

“Here?”

He shoved open the door to the vehicle and stepped out. “Did you think I crawled beneath a rock every night?”

With a shrug, she climbed out to join him on the pathway leading to the wide, wooden terrace.

“It’s where most slimy invertebrates slither.”

“Slimy?” His lips tugged into a lopsided grin. “Is that a scientific term?”

Her heart skipped a treacherous beat. It was no wonder he so rarely smiled. It was lethal.

“Personal opinion,” she managed to mutter.

Grasping her elbow, he led her onto the terrace. Then, reaching the glass door, he paused to flip open a small, metal box and placed his hand against it to be scanned. There was a small beep before the door slid open.

Good grief.

This place had the sort of security she’d only seen in movies.

Perhaps sensing her confusion, he sent her a wry smile as he urged her over the threshold and into the house.

“I borrowed the cabin from a friend,” he said, closing the door and pressing a button that reset the lock.

He pressed another button that did something to darken the windows. She assumed it was so they could see out, but no one could see in.

“A Sentinel?” she guessed.

“No, Serra is a psychic.”

In spite of the combustible combination of fear and anger that continued to seethe through her rigid body, Angela felt an undeniable stab of curiosity.

Hardly a big shocker.

She was a scientist who’d been obsessed with genetics for as long as she could remember.

“I thought most high-bloods lived together?”

He turned to meet her searching gaze. “Most prefer the comfort, not to mention the safety, of official compounds, but psychics have a need to seek solitude on occasion.”

“Oh.” She glanced toward the windows that offered a view of the thick woods that encircled the house. The nearest neighbor was no doubt miles away. “I never thought how annoying it must be to hear other people’s thoughts.”

“This house belonged to Serra’s parents before they retired to Florida.” His features softened as he spoke of the psychic. “She was fortunate to have parents who remained an important part of her life. They chose this spot to give her a place of peace.”

“Is she your lover?”

The words left Angela’s lips before she could call them back and her face flushed with heat as he stepped toward her with a wicked smile.

“There’s only one female I want in my bed.”

A dangerous excitement spiraled through her at his low, husky voice, stealing her breath and making her knees weak.

If only that were true.

If only this intelligent, powerful, drop-dead-gorgeous man had truly been a visiting professor who’d been intrigued by me, the shy young scientist.

Yeah, and if only pigs could fly.

She tilted her chin, trying to pretend as if she couldn’t feel the heat of his hard, muscular, perfectly chiseled body searing through her clothes.

“Why did you bring me here?”

His jaw clenched, as if he was frustrated by her refusal to accept that his desire could be genuine.

“The house has a sophisticated alarm system including hidden surveillance. It’s also less than an hour from a monastery.”

She’d known that the monasteries had a close connection to Valhalla. Not only training the mysterious Sentinels who served as guardians to the high-bloods when they traveled among the regular population, but also offering asylum for any high-blood who felt in danger.

No one was allowed in the monastery without invitation from the monks.

Not the cops, or military, or even the leaders of the country where the monastery was located.

They had the mystical powers to remain impervious to politics.

“You have business with the monks?”

“Using teleportation will be the fastest way to reach Valhalla.”

She took a hasty step backward. “No.”

“There’s no need to be scared.”

He studied her as if surprised she would be afraid of being magically transported from one place to another. As he should be. Under normal circumstances she would have been thrilled out of her mind at the opportunity to not only see inside a mysterious monastery, but to travel from portal to portal. It would be . . . amazing. But these weren’t normal circumstances and she wasn’t going to allow herself to be trapped in a place that she couldn’t be sure she could escape from.

“I’m not scared,” she said.

“Good.” His lips twisted. “Despite all the entertaining tales of people disappearing into outer space or arriving at the destination half-man/half-fish I can promise you that it’s perfectly safe.”

“I meant that I’m not going to Valhalla.”

His brows drew together at her stubborn tone. “Angela, it’s the one place Dylan can’t reach you.”

“Oh yeah? It didn’t sound that way to me.”

“What didn’t?”

“You accused Dylan of killing two Sentinels before managing to escape from this supposedly ‘safe haven’,” she reminded him, shivering at the memory of the strange female. It wasn’t remotely difficult to accept she’d murdered her friends. Dylan was clearly unstable. “Now you want to plant me there like a sitting duck?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or is that the point? Am I still the bait?”

His breath hissed between his teeth, his hand lifting to rake impatient fingers through his hair.

“If you were the bait, I would have left you at the apartment and waited for Dylan to return,” he rasped. “Because I can assure you that she would have come for you.”

Okay, that was true.

Even if she wasn’t in the mood to admit it.

Instead her chin tilted another inch. “You can’t force me to go to Valhalla.”

The blue eyes darkened with a hint of the predator that waited just below the surface.

Sentinel.

She’d glimpsed the danger that lurked beneath his pretense of civilization. A damned shame she hadn’t paid attention to her instincts.

“I think I’ve already proven I can make you go wherever I want,” he reminded her in deceptively soft tones.

“Bastard.”

He cupped her chin, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “But, I would rather you go willingly.”

“Not. Gonna. Happen,” she snapped, hoping he didn’t feel her shiver as the heat of his fingers warmed her to the tip of her toes.

And lots of interesting places in between.

His eyes darkened, but this time it was with a stark hunger that made her heart pound.

“What if I say pretty please?” he asked in a low, compelling voice, his thumb brushing over her lower lip.

“Stop that.”

His hooded gaze studied her upturned face, something perilously close to possession in his dark expression.

“Ah, if only it was so simple.”

Her mouth went dry as her body instinctively arched toward his solid strength. Dang it. She’d lusted after him for so long. Weaving impossible fantasies in her head.

Now her body didn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t supposed to be melting beneath his touch.

Traitorous hormones.

“Niko.” His name came as a breathy whisper instead of the protest she intended.

He muttered a low curse as his head lowered so he could brush his mouth along the sensitive curve of her neck.

“I like hearing my name on your lips.”

Her hands lifted to clutch at the cashmere softness of his sweater as he nuzzled a path upward. Oh . . . crap. It felt soooo good.

The sort of good that made smart women do stupid things.

“I’m mad at you,” she managed to mutter.

He found the pulse that thundered just below her jaw, stroking it with the rough rasp of his tongue before giving it a tiny nip.

“I know.”

Angela gasped at the primitive stab of pleasure that arrowed through her.

Her limited experience with the opposite sex included a few fumbled kisses, even more fumbled squeezes of her breasts followed by a quickie in her long forgotten boyfriend’s dorm room.

Nothing that made her anxious to find a new lover in the past three years.

Not until Niko had prowled into her lab.

Clearly even a female as embarrassingly naïve as she was could sense a man with the ability to please a woman.

She moaned as he outlined her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

“I don’t trust you.”

“You will,” he promised, stealing a deep, drugging kiss.

She briefly savored the taste of warm male desire, her stomach clenching with anticipation as she felt the hard thrust of his arousal.

This was what she’d sensed the minute he’d walked into the lab.

This smoldering attraction that could burn her to cinders.

Reluctantly she pulled back, her rasping breath the only sound to disturb the silence.

“Just because you can get me into bed?”

“Because I’m going to devote myself to proving I’ll never hurt you again,” he promised, his gaze locked on her lips that still tingled from his touch. “No matter how long it takes.”

She struggled to think.

Who knew it could be such a difficult task?

“Why?”

His finger brushed her heated cheek. “Hmmm?”

“Why are you concerned that I would be hurt now?” she persisted. “It’s not like you gave a rat’s ass for the past six weeks.”

He met her accusing gaze, his expression somber. “The Sentinels—the ones who Dylan murdered—were two of my closest friends.” He grimaced. “The pain of their loss blinded me.”

She refused to be swayed by the edge of pain in his voice.

“So not all Sentinels are so cold-blooded?”

He gave a short laugh. “Oh, we’re cold-blooded, especially when we’re tracking prey.” His hand gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But a part of our mission is always to protect the innocent.”

A tiny part of Niko knew that he was behaving badly.

Again.

The poor female had nearly been kidnapped by a homicidal freak who looked like the definition of a monster. She’d discovered the man she’d come to trust had used her as a pawn. And then forced her against her will to travel to this remote cabin.

And that didn’t even include the revelation she was also one of the freaks. Something she’d obviously refused to process.

She was shaken, scared, and mad as hell.

But was he offering her comfort? Giving her the space she needed to come to terms with the upheavals in her life?

No.

He’d barely got her through the door before he had her in his arms, kissing her as if he’d already claimed her as his own.

But while the small shred of decency that had survived his years as a Sentinel urged him to release her, he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening.

He needed to touch her. It was a physical ache that he couldn’t deny.

“And now?” she asked, her defiant expression doing nothing to hide the vulnerability in her wide, velvet-brown eyes.

His fingers skimmed down the curve of her neck. “Now my first priority is to make certain you’re out of harm’s way.”

A fine tremor shook her body as his fingers continued down to trace the prominent line of her collarbone exposed by the drooping neckline of her sweatshirt.

Not that she was about to admit her ready response to his touch.

Once—before she’d discovered the truth—she would have eagerly shared her desire. It had been obvious in every shy smile and charming blush when he walked into a room.

The fact that he’d driven her to hide her desire was a raw regret that was going to torture him for the rest of his life.

“And then you’ll return to the hunt for Dylan?” she pressed.

He shrugged. Just six weeks ago he would have been infuriated by the mere question. Nothing was more important than tracking down the bitch who’d killed his friends.

But his priorities had changed. While he would never be satisfied until Dylan was brought to justice, his focus was now on ensuring that Angela was protected.

“That will be the decision of the Tagos,” he said.

She frowned. “What’s a Tagos?”

“The commander of the Sentinels.”

“And what will happen to me?”

“One problem at a time, angel,” he murmured, forcing himself to step back so he could pull his cell phone from his pocket.

“Wait,” she said, grasping his arm, her expression troubled.

“What is it?”

“I haven’t agreed to go with you.”

He squashed his impulse to inform her that he didn’t need her consent. After years of giving commands and having them obeyed, he was going to have to learn the art of negotiation.

A wry smile twisted his lips. He suspected it wouldn’t be the first, or the last change he would have to make for this female.

“Fine, but I have to check in and let them know Dylan is still out there,” he said.

She regarded him with open suspicion. “No tricks?”

“No tricks.” He leaned down to brush his lips over her furrowed brow. “The kitchen is fully stocked. See if there’s anything that you’d like for dinner.”

She took a hasty step backward, a revealing blush staining her cheeks.

“What about you?”

He swallowed a groan, the sweet taste of her skin clinging to his lips and the scent of her frustrated desire teasing his nose.

Sometimes superior senses weren’t always a bonus.

“Me?”

“You eat, don’t you?”

His gaze drifted down the length of her slender body before returning to meet her wide gaze.

“What I’m hungry for isn’t in the kitchen.”

Her lips parted, but perhaps aware he was looking for any excuse to yank her back into his arms and consume her on the spot, she turned to scurry toward the wide doors that led to the back of the cabin.

He breathed deeply of her lingering scent before pressing the number to Valhalla on his cell phone.

Within seconds he was patched through to Wolfe, the current Talos, and all-around badass.

“You have her?” the powerful leader of the Sentinels demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Not Dylan, but I have the scientist.”

“You let your prey escape?”

“Yes.”

There was a startled silence before Wolfe sucked in an audible breath.

“Talk to me, Niko.”

“I’ve been . . .” It took an effort to say the word he’d never thought he’d utter. “Compromised.”

Wolfe muttered a low curse. “Explain.”

“I’m no longer impartial,” he said, proving the point as he crossed the room so he could keep Angela in sight as she entered the kitchen. “I’m afraid my judgment can’t be trusted.”

“None of us are impartial,” Wolfe said in rough tones, the words thick with self-disgust. As Tagos, Wolfe held himself personally responsible for the death of Adam and Fiona. Not that he wouldn’t have even if he wasn’t the leader. Calling Wolfe a control freak was like calling a nuclear bomb a small explosive. “Dylan’s betrayal has affected us all.”

“This is more than my thirst for revenge,” Niko confessed without apology. Odd. He should be horrified by the thought that he was about to let a female come between him and his duty. Instead all he wanted was to be done with the conversation so he could head into the kitchen. “I’ve allowed myself to become personally invested in Angela.”

“The scientist?”

“Yes.”

“Well, well.”

Niko ignored the mocking drawl in his friend’s voice. Wolfe was notorious for his belief that Sentinels shouldn’t allow distractions in their lives. Lovers were fine as long as they understood they came in a distant second place to the job.

“I need to get her to Valhalla,” he said. “But there might be a problem.”

He could sense that Wolfe was on instant alert. “Why? It’s not that long a drive.”

Niko grimaced. “No, but I can’t be sure Dylan is working alone. I’d be vulnerable to attack on the road.”

“There’s something else.”

Niko rolled his eyes. All Sentinels were hyperperceptive. It was part of their special ability.

But Wolfe was very close to being a psychic.

Annoying bastard.

“Angela is not entirely pleased by the thought of going to the freak-house,” he muttered. “I can’t be sure that once we’re away from a controlled environment she won’t try to escape.”

Wolfe’s bark of laughter echoed through the phone. “She hasn’t become a slave to your charm? There was a time when you only had to smile to get a woman to devote herself to your pleasure. You must be losing your touch, old man.”

Niko ignored the insult. He couldn’t tease about his feelings for Angela. Or the fact that he’d hurt her so badly he couldn’t be sure she would ever forgive him.

“Give me a few hours to convince her that I’m not entirely evil.”

“Hmmm. Do you intend to do this convincing in the bedroom?”

“Not your business.”

Wolfe gave a short laugh that ended on a weary sigh. “Maybe it’s for the best. Things are . . . tense right now.”

“Because of Dylan?”

“No. The Mave is convinced we’ll be able to clean up that nasty business.”

“Then what?”

“I’m not entirely certain, but it has something to do with the necros. Which means their Sentinels refuse to leave their sides. You know how overprotective they are.”

Necromancers (or diviners as they preferred to be called) were bonded to a guardian Sentinel while they were still young, never leaving the protection of Valhalla or outlying compounds without one at their side.

“A threat?”

Wolfe made a sound of disgust. “Why would they tell me? I am, after all, only the leader of the Sentinels. It’s not like I need to be kept in the damned loop.”

Niko grimaced. Politics sucked. Especially for a man who had the tact of a raging bull.

“Arel shouldn’t be too far away,” he said, eager to change the conversation. “Could you have him join me at the cabin? The sooner he can get on Dylan’s trail the better.”

Instantly Wolfe was back in commander mode.

“Will he need backup?”

The memory of the hatred blazing in Dylan’s crimson eyes made the question easy to answer.

“Yes, but don’t tell him I said so.”

“You got it, although it will be a few hours before any backup can get there since they have to drive.” A pause. “Niko.”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Always.”

“Oh, and give that scientist a kiss for me.”

Not a chance in hell.

“You should know by now, Wolfe, I don’t share,” he growled.

Chapter Six

Angela was impressed.

So this was what a kitchen was supposed to look like, she wryly acknowledged.

It was more than the hand-carved cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. It was the heavy oak dining table in the center of the ceramic tiled floor and the matching china cabinet that displayed the prized dishware.

This was a place where families gathered to share meals and laugh away the troubles of the day.

It wasn’t a makeshift lab for a distracted scientist. Or a place for a child to sit alone with dinner from the microwave while her mother was flirting with her fellow drunks at the nearest bar.

She squashed the ridiculous pang. She wasn’t that lonely ten-year-old girl anymore and she was perfectly happy with her private apartment and her kitchen filled with microscopes.

Pulling a water bottle from the fully loaded fridge, she was debating between a salad and a tuna sandwich when a husky voice whispered in her ear.

“Did you find anything to tempt your appetite?”

With a muffled shriek she turned to glare at the man towering over her.

“Dammit,” she muttered, pressing a hand to her racing heart. “You really need to wear a bell.”

He flashed his rare, bone-melting grin. “Kinky, but whatever turns you on.”

She swallowed a groan as desire blazed through her with stunning force.

Even furious with his betrayal and unnerved by the disruption of her peaceful life, she still wanted him with a raw, aching need that was frightening.

Against her will her gaze drank in the lean, starkly beautiful face and stunning blue eyes that studied her with an unwavering intensity. His hair was even more ruffled than usual and her fingers itched to smooth the dark strands that shimmered like copper in the fading afternoon sunlight.

Then they could travel down to discover if his body was the chiseled perfection she’d always fantasized.

Abruptly realizing his eyes had darkened, as if he could actually sense her disturbing awareness, she shut the fridge door. Instantly she stepped back as his heat wrapped around her.

“How long did you have to practice sneaking up on people?” she breathed, shivering at the prickles that raced over her skin.

“It’s a natural talent.” He closed the tiny space between them, reaching to pluck the water bottle from her hand and tossed it into the recycle bin. “One of many.”

She licked her dry lips. “Is modesty another natural talent?”

“No, but this is.”

He leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss of sheer possession.

“Niko,” she muttered, the breath squeezed from her lungs as he wrapped his arms around her, moving slowly, as if to give her ample opportunity to step away.

Or perhaps he was worried his superior powers would frighten her, she realized as he gently tugged her against him.

Tilting back her head she met his smoldering gaze.

“Tell me no and this ends now,” he husked.

Her lips parted, but the word was stuck in her throat. “I thought you wanted dinner?” she instead hedged.

His hand shifted to her lower back, pressing her against the thickening length of his arousal.

“You know what I want.”

She shivered, her hands lifting to rest against his chest. “Do I?”

His tongue traced the curve of her lower lip. “I can demonstrate if you need clarification.”

Oh, she wanted him to demonstrate.

She wanted him to rip off her clothes and take her in a glorious storm of pagan passion. She wanted him to kiss her with a hunger that would drown out the voice of insecurity that whispered in the back of her mind.

“It seems—”

“What?”

“Convenient.”

“Convenient?” He made a sound of disbelief. “Trust me, lusting after a female for six weeks is anything but convenient.”

“If you were so overwhelmed with lust you hid it well enough. I did everything but spread myself naked on the lab table and you couldn’t have shown less interest.” She lowered her gaze, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the memory of her awkward flirtations and his blatant apathy. He’d only reinforced her opinion she was lacking the mysterious quality that attracted the opposite sex. “Now, when you need my cooperation, you suddenly find me irresistible.”

“Angel, look at me,” he said, cupping a hand beneath her chin, urging her face up to meet his eyes that were darkened with regret.

“I’m looking,” she muttered.

“It might not have been my intention to hurt you, but I did,” he said softly. “You felt betrayed by my charade; can you imagine how much worse it would have been if I’d given in to my desire and taken you to my bed? Not even I am that much a bastard.”

The resentment she’d been nursing for the past few hours faltered at his low words.

“So it was for my own good?”

His gaze slid to her mouth. “It certainly wasn’t for mine.”

He had a point, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. She wasn’t sure she’d ever have been able to forgive him if he’d actually taken her as a lover while he’d been lying to her.

Still, that didn’t mean this wasn’t just another game.

“If you say.”

He frowned. “You can’t doubt my desire for you?”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first man to want to be ‘just friends,’” she said dryly.

“Christ, Angela,” he breathed. “As much as I want to be your friend, I’m desperate to make you my lover.”

Her heart missed a beat as she met his brooding gaze. “Desperate?”

Without warning he grasped her wrist and pressed her hand against the thick length of his erection.

“Tell me, angel, does this feel desperate to you?” he growled.

Her suspicions were seared away as her fingers curled around the impressive bulge. Even through the heavy material of his jeans she could feel the pulsing heat and straining urgency of his need.

It was intoxicating.

Her mouth went dry as her stomach clenched with excitement. She’d never understood why women rushed to the window when the football team jogged past wearing nothing more than gym shorts. The male body was a collection of vital organs surrounded by muscle and bone and hard-wired to a brain that allowed it to function.

It wasn’t until this man entered her lab that she got it.

Just being near Niko was like being plunged into an electrical storm. The heat, the sizzle in the air, and the prickles of anticipation that warned she was about to be struck by lightning.

And worse, her brain shut down until all she could think about was wrapping herself so tightly around him he could never escape.

Dangerous, dangerous sensations.

Her fingers slid down his erection, her heart skipping a beat as he seemed to grow even bigger.

“It feels—”

“Yes?” he groaned, his hands gripping her shoulders as if he wasn’t convinced his knees would hold him.

Angela felt a strange jolt of . . . what was it? Female power?

He wanted her.

Truly wanted her.

Of all the lies he told her this wasn’t one.

“Large,” she murmured.

He gave a choked laugh, his face tight with his barely leashed desire.

“Should I be flattered?”

Her awkwardness was forgotten beneath the heady realization that she could affect this man with a mere touch.

“Not really, I don’t have much to compare it to,” she admitted. “As I said, I’ve never been the kind of girl that attracts the opposite sex.”

“Only because mortal men are blind.”

She snorted. “All of them?”

He studied her upturned face with an undisguised hunger that squeezed the air from her lungs.

“If they had the superior senses of a Sentinel they would have seen what I see.”

“And what’s that?” she managed to ask.

He lifted a hand to tug the scrunchie from the messy remains of her ponytail.

“Thick, sable hair that starts out prim and proper in the mornings, but during the day sexy little tendrils escape to play against your long, utterly kissable neck.”

She trembled as his fingers threaded through the loose strands of her hair.

“Oh.”

He growled low in his throat as he lifted a fistful of hair to press it to his nose, breathing deeply of the apple shampoo she used.

“Do you know how many hours I devoted to fantasizing about releasing your hair from its bondage so it could spread across my pillows?”

“Bondage?” The word came out as a croak as she all too easily pictured being handcuffed to Niko’s bed, her body a willing slave to the promise of paradise.

Keeping one hand tangled in her hair, he used the other to gently trace the sensitive skin of her temple.

“Dark velvet eyes that tempt a man to become lost in their depths,” he continued his verbal seduction, his voice smoky.

“Boring brown,” she corrected.

He ignored her interruption, his smoldering gaze tracing every line and angle of her upturned face.

“A noble little nose,” he murmured. “Did you know you scrunch it up when you’re concentrating on your work?”

“I do not.”

His fingers drifted down to trace her nose before outlining her trembling lips.

“A mouth that is as ripe and delicious as cherries.”

Her lips instinctively parted at his searing touch. “Niko.”

“And this skin.” The warm fingers continued their path of destruction down the length of her neck to trace the loose neckline of her sweatshirt. “As smooth as the most expensive silk.”

“I’m too pale.”

“You’re perfect,” he growled in response. “Ivory silk. It tempts a man to discover if you’re the same porcelain shade all over.” Holding her gaze, he lowered his hand to the hem of her shirt. “May I?”

She knew what he was asking. And that if she agreed there would be no turning back.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Obviously a man of action, Niko didn’t hesitate to pull the sweatshirt up and off her body. It happened so fast that Angela didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. Then, catching sight of Niko’s harshly appreciative expression, she forgot to worry that she was too skinny, or too pale, or too whatever else her insecurities could imagine.

“Yes,” he rasped as his hands reached to dispense with her lacy bra. “Ivory tipped with rosebuds. An irresistible combination.”

His fingers cupped the small mounds of her breasts, his thumbs teasing the nipples to tiny points of aching pleasure. She sucked in a startled gasp, her back arching as if to beg for more.

Muttering a low, rough curse, he lowered his head and licked the tip of her breast.

Angela jerked in astonishment, her hands lifting to plunge into the short strands of his hair.

“Dear . . . Lord.”

His own hands slid down the curve of her waist, tugging her against his rigid muscles at the same time he sucked her nipple between his lips.

She groaned, as he caught the tip between his teeth. It felt so good. Blissfully, wondrously good.

“I want you,” he whispered, kissing a path to her other breast to torment it with the same dizzying skill.

“I want you too,” she husked.

And she did.

What had his word been?

Desperately. Yes, that was it.

She wanted him desperately.

This was chemistry at its most basic form.

He made a low sound deep in his throat, planting impatient kisses up the line of her collarbone until he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

“But—”

“No,” she snapped.

He pulled back with a frown. “No?”

Dammit. She’d spent six weeks tormenting herself with the fear that this man who filled her every fantasy could never desire her.

Now that she was in his arm, hovering on the edge of paradise, she didn’t want it snatched away.

Just once she wanted to say the hell with logic and common sense and give in to temptation.

“Don’t give me a reason why we can’t do this,” she muttered. His hooded gaze skimmed down to her nipples that remained hardened with desire before returning to meet her frustrated gaze.

“It’s more a warning.”

“A warning? Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’m not stupid. I know the routine. This is just sex. It means nothing.”

“No.” The blue eyes flared with a stunning emotion. “It means everything.”

If Niko hadn’t been battling his caveman urge to strip Angela of her remaining clothes and take her against the fridge, he would have smiled at her baffled expression.

Hell, he didn’t blame her for looking at him like he was out of his mind.

Until he’d encountered this woman he would have bet his left nut he would never utter those words.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.” He gently brushed a stray curl from her flushed cheek. “For me this isn’t just sex.”

“You don’t have to pretend, Niko.” She unconsciously licked her lips, her expression troubled. “In fact, I would prefer that you didn’t.”

With a low growl he was scooping her off her feet and heading out of the kitchen.

He didn’t know if it was the lip-licking or her refusal to believe that he was sincere that tipped him over the edge, but he knew that one way or another he was going to convince her that this was no longer a matter of duty or revenge or mere lust.

Crossing the living room he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom loft.

It was a spacious room with an open beamed ceiling and hand-carved furniture scattered across the polished wood floor. At the far end of the room were glass sliding doors that led to a back balcony that offered a view of the pool as the sun slid beyond the horizon.

A beautiful sight, but not nearly as beautiful as the woman in his arms.

Niko moved to gently place Angela on the large brass bed. Then, standing at the edge of the mattress, he simply relished the sight of her stretched across the emerald green comforter.

Man. How many nights had he tortured himself with this precise image?

The dark hair spread in wild abandon. The pale face flushed with need and the midnight eyes smoldering with invitation.

Only this was far better than any fantasy.

A fiercely possessive emotion clutched at his heart as his gaze slid down the delicate curve of her neck and over the soft swell of her naked breasts.

It was raw and primal and shockingly perfect.

With jerky movements that would have made his fellow Sentinels snicker, Niko kicked off his shoes before removing the rest of his clothes. He was acutely aware of Angela’s covert survey of his nude body, her breath catching as she caught sight of his fully erect cock.

For once his vanity didn’t assume she was impressed by his lean muscles or his wide chest sprinkled with dark hair. Or even the imposing size of his erection.

For all of Angela Locke’s impressive intelligence and independent nature, she was still remarkably innocent. Combine that with her mysterious conviction she was somehow undesirable and it was bound to make her skittish.

Moving slow enough it didn’t seem like he was pouncing (pouncing could come next time . . . and there would be a next time) Niko stretched out on the mattress beside her so that they were lying face to face. His only touch was the finger he used to trace the line of her jaw.

“No more pretense,” he murmured. “The truth. Once I take you I’m never letting you go.”

She shivered, her body shifting to press against him even as her eyes held a suspicion she couldn’t entirely disguise.

“If this is a ploy to get me in Valhalla . . .”

“I’ve already given my word I won’t force you to go to the compound,” he said, his voice thick as his cock jerked in reaction to the brush of her hip.

“Isn’t that where you live?”

“For now, but Sentinels aren’t vulnerable like many of the high-bloods, so we have the choice of living among norms,” he assured her, not bothering to mention that she’d eventually have to spend time at Valhalla. The Mave would want to be certain her growing powers couldn’t hurt her or those around her. Yeah, that was a conversation he didn’t mind putting off. Indefinitely. “Once Dylan has been captured we can go wherever you want.”

“I—”

He smiled wryly as her words disappeared and she stared at him with silent wonder.

“Too much, too soon?” he teased.

With a choked groan she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”

He did.

White-hot pleasure seared through Angela as he kissed with a clear intent.

This time there was no teasing, no slow buildup, no tender nibbles.

This was unapologetic hunger that threatened to consume her.

And exactly what she needed.

She didn’t want to think of the past, and the future was something to worry about . . . later.

She wanted to become lost in this moment.

As if sensing her need, Niko’s kiss became even more demanding, his tongue dipping into her mouth with an intimate sweep. In concert, his hand cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing over the tight peak.

Angela squirmed against him as the electric sensations jolted through her.

“Niko.”

He pulled back, studying with a hint of concern.

“Am I frightening you?” he whispered.

Her heart squeezed with a dangerous emotion. God, he was so beautiful. A sexy, lethally beautiful male who had enchanted her the minute he’d strolled into her lab.

But it was his instinctive urge to care and protect her that threatened to destroy the barriers she’d built around her heart.

No one had ever, ever treated her as if she . . . mattered.

As if she was the most important thing in his life.

The knowledge was more erotic than any amount of hard muscles and male beauty.

His brows drew together. “Angel?”

In answer, she plunged her fingers into the heavy thickness of his hair.

“I have wanted you from the moment I saw you in the doorway of my lab,” she confessed in soft tones. “I didn’t know what hit me.”

His soft chuckle brushed over her cheeks, his eyes darkened to indigo.

“Trust me, the feeling was entirely mutual.” Holding her gaze he slid his hand down the flat plane of her stomach until he could unfasten her jeans. “I tried to convince myself that you were just a part of the job, but I knew from the beginning I was lying to myself.”

Her body felt as if it was on fire as he expertly rid her of her remaining clothes. Then, still holding her gaze, he slid slowly downward. The rub of skin against skin made her shiver with excitement.

His lips touched the base of her throat before moving to her collarbone, tracing the delicate line with the tip of his tongue. Only when she was clutching at his broad shoulders did he allow the teasing kisses to travel down the curve of her breast.

“You’re so warm,” she whispered.

“All Sentinels run hot.” He shifted just enough to capture the tip of her nipple between his lips.

“Oh.”

She nearly came off the bed at the avalanche of sensations rushing through her body.

He was good at this.

Really, really good.

While his tongue and even his teeth pleasured her nipple, his hand slid down the curve of her hip. Angela squeezed her eyes shut, allowing herself the pleasure of exploring the broad width of his back, relishing the feel of silken skin over hard muscle.

She was growing lost in the surge of building sensations when his fingers encircled the back of her thigh and tugged her leg over his hip.

Her eyes widened as she felt the hard thrust of his arousal press against her most sensitive spot. She’d expected him to roll her onto her back, not to remain on their sides.

“Like this?”

He smiled at her hint of surprise. “We can do it anyway you want, but I’ve wanted you for a very long time. This seems . . . safer.”

“Safer?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m several sizes larger than you.”

Her own lips twitched. “Yeah, I’d noticed.”

His smile faded as he studied her with an oddly somber expression even as his fingers drifted up and down the back of her thigh, the light touch sending shocks of excitement through her.

“I’m also a Sentinel, which means my strength can be hazardous if I’m not careful.”

She held his gaze. “I trust you.”

His eyes briefly closed, as if her soft words had touched something deep inside him. Then, lifting the indecently long lashes, he met her gaze with a stark need that pierced straight to her heart.

“I’ve never wanted a woman like I want you, angel,” he said, his voice husky. “I can’t be entirely certain of my control.”

That newly discovered thrill of power flared through her. She didn’t know how she’d ever managed to capture the interest of this astonishing, sexy, compelling man. But for once she wasn’t going to allow her self-doubts to ruin the moment.

Angela leaned forward, nuzzling the corner of his sensuous lips.

“I’m certain.” She kissed a path along his knotted jaw and then the strong column of his neck, addicted to his intoxicating taste. “You would never hurt me. Not intentionally.”

He sucked in a deep breath.

“No, I would never intentionally hurt you.”

She slowly kissed a path back to his lips, her hips rubbing against him in blatant invitation.

“No more talking.”

Framing her face in his hands, he claimed her lips in a kiss that she felt to the tips of her toes. Oh . . . yes. She shivered with pleasure, her mouth parting to allow his tongue to tangle with hers.

Drowning in the heat of his devouring kiss, she stroked her hands over the hair-roughened skin of his chest. A delicious excitement curled in the pit of her stomach as he tugged her leg higher on his hip, the tip of his cock sliding through her damp clit.

She hissed in pleasure, her nails digging into his chest.

Easily sensing the growing urgency of her desire, Niko pulled back, his face strained as he struggled to maintain control of his spiraling desire.

“Angel, I can’t wait,” he rasped. “I need to be inside you.”

His rough voice sent a flare of aching desire through her.

“Yes,” she breathed, shuddering as his fingers drifted over the curve of her hip.

With infinite care he explored the tender skin of her lower stomach before heading ever lower.

Angela muttered her approval as he covered her lips in a hungry kiss, but even distracted she gave a strangled groan when his seeking fingers stroked through her damp heat.

“God, you feel good,” he muttered. “Are you ready for me?”

Ready?

Hell, she’d been ready for weeks.

Another stroke or two of those clever fingers and she’d be reaching paradise alone.

“Please, Niko,” she muttered. “Now.”

His low hiss filled the air, his erection pressing eagerly against her damp heat.

“Next time,” he muttered.

She blinked in confusion. “What?”

He gazed deep into her eyes, a thin layer of sweat coating his face.

“Next time I intend to spend hours pleasuring you.”

A sly smile curved her lips. “Or maybe I’ll pleasure you.”

“Oh, shit.”

His control snapped.

Just like that.

Reclaiming her lips, Niko’s hands shifted to her lower back and with a forward thrust of his hips he was entering her in one sure stroke.

She gasped, but not from fear.

Exquisite pleasure blazed through her and she pressed her face into the curve of his neck. She’d never done anything but the traditional missionary position. Now she realized that the current arrangement allowed her to feel every slow stroke into her before he was retreating and returning with a slow, insistent thrust.

“Niko,” she breathed, feeling overwhelmed.

It was more than the extraordinary bliss of feeling him moving deep inside her. It was the sense of intimate connection with this man that went beyond the physical.

“I knew it would be perfect,” he whispered as he continued his measured pace. “I knew you would be perfect.”

“I never realized.”

“Never realized what, my sweet angel?”

“That this could be so—”

“So?”

“Life altering,” she breathed, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his.

His low laugh echoed through the air with an unmistakable satisfaction.

“You belong to me now,” he vowed.

Belonged?

If she’d been in her right mind, she might have protested the possessive comment.

But instead she arched her back as her body began to tighten with a shimmering anticipation. His steady, unrelenting pace was stoking an inferno deep within her that threatened to combust.

“Angel,” he breathed, giving her leg a tug higher as he angled his hips upward.

His slight shift was enough to press him even deeper within her and with a shocking force the tension that coiled between her legs abruptly shattered into a thousand pieces.

She cried out and wrapped her arms around his neck as he gave two more deep thrusts before he was reaching his own climax.

She held on tightly as they both struggled to recover from the explosion of sensations, their ragged breaths the only sound to stir the air.

Chapter Seven

Niko ran a shaky hand down the damp skin of Angela’s back, his face buried in her apple-scented hair.

Man, he ached to press her even closer to his trembling body. To hold her so tightly she would never be able to escape. But even now he feared he might accidentally crush her.

She was so fragile. So vulnerable.

The knowledge frightened him on a primal level that threatened to make him do something extremely stupid.

Like lock her in his rooms at Valhalla and never let her out.

Something that this fiercely independent woman would most certainly protest.

“You’re quiet,” he at last murmured, lifting his head to study her with a searching gaze. She’d never looked more beautiful with her hair tangled around her flushed face and her lips still swollen from his kisses. But he was a Sentinel. He didn’t miss the hint of unease behind her air of sleepy satisfaction. “Are you having regrets?”

“No.”

She used her finger to draw an aimless pattern over his chest, seemingly unaware that the light caress was enough to kick his libido into overdrive. Of course, just being close to this female was enough to send his libido into overdrive. Or catching her scent. Or seeing her across the room . . .

He swallowed a groan, grimly leashing his insistent desire.

This wasn’t a fleeting afternoon of delight.

This was the start of eternity.

Together.

He needed to know what was going on in that clever, always unpredictable brain of hers.

“What is it, angel?”

A brief hesitation. “I was just thinking that we don’t really know much about each other.”

His hand skimmed beneath the warm silk of her hair, massaging the tense muscles of her nape.

“I know that you’re beautiful, frighteningly intelligent, and that you dislike being the center of attention,” he promptly informed her. They were beyond him pretending he hadn’t spent the past six weeks spying on her like some creepy stalker. “I also know that you rarely allow people close to you, but you’re fiercely loyal to the few friends that you trust. And that you’re lonely and you’ve never felt like you belong.”

She stiffened, clearly disturbed by the realization of just how much she’d unconsciously revealed.

“You can’t know that,” she breathed.

“I can because I felt the same.”

Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You?”

“Sentinels aren’t always recognized until they hit puberty,” he explained, revealing the sort of information only shared among high-bloods. She would soon be a part of his world. Whether she liked it or not. “When I was a child I went to public school, but even at a very young age I knew that there was something different about me. I could run faster, jump higher, see better, and hear things no one else could.”

She frowned. “And that was a bad thing?”

His jaw clenched at the memory of the hateful taunts and brutal ambushes that had dogged his early years.

“Boys can be extremely competitive and no one wants to play with the kid who always wins.”

Her expression softened with sympathy. “Ah.”

“And that was before my super strength kicked in.”

Her fingers spread across his chest. “What happened?”

“I nearly killed a neighborhood boy when he threw a rock and hit me in the head.” He grimaced. The memory of the boy lying on the ground with his face beaten bloody was one that had haunted him for years. “That’s when my mom called Valhalla.”

“Did they come and take you away?”

“Yes.”

Her hand lifted to cup his face, her heart far too tender for her own good.

“Were you unhappy?”

“At first,” he admitted. “My mother came to visit when she could, but I’d become too wary to make friends.” His lips twisted. He’d been a surly, arrogant kid with a chip on his shoulder the size of Mount Rushmore. In no way did he want to admit he was one of the mutants. “Especially when they were all freaks.”

Her thumb absently stroked his lower lip, sending a blast of heat through him.

Oh . . . yeah.

He was definitely locking her in his rooms. Their rooms. At least for the next month or so.

“What happened?”

“Wolfe, a boy a few years older than me, walked up and punched me so hard he broke my jaw.”

“That’s terrible,” she growled in outrage. “What did you do?”

His lips parted into a wide smile. “Exactly what you’d expect me to do. I picked myself off the floor and did my best to kill the son of a bitch.”

Her frown deepened. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because I discovered that I’d finally encountered someone who could not only match me in strength, but could kick my ass.”

“I don’t understand.”

Of course she didn’t.

Only two males could appreciate the nuanced diplomacy of a knock-down-drag-out fight.

“For the first time ever I didn’t have to hold back. I didn’t have to pretend I was ‘less’ than what I was.” He deliberately caught and held her gaze. “I found the place where I belonged.”

“And Wolfe?”

“He’s the current leader of the Sentinels and my closest friend.”

She lightly ran her fingers up and down the line of his jaw, seemingly fascinated by the feel of his five o’clock shadow.

“You never mentioned your father.”

He lifted his hand to press her palm against his cheek. “He died when I was just a baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“What about your parents?”

Her lashes instantly lowered to hide her eyes.

“I was the product of a one-night stand,” she said, her voice stripped of emotion. “I never knew my father, not even his name. I doubt he ever knew I existed.”

He swallowed a sigh as he felt the barriers rising between them.

One bout of sex, no matter how life-altering, wasn’t going to be enough to convince her to lower the barriers surrounding her heart.

“And your mother?” he asked.

“She died a year ago.”

He pulled her hand to his lips, planting a kiss in the middle of her palm.

“That must have been tough.”

She trembled in response to his caress, but her eyes remained stubbornly hidden behind her lashes. She’d share her body, but not her wounds.

“Yes, but we weren’t close.” She struggled to swallow, as if she had a lump in her throat. “She never understood my lack of social skills and she was disappointed that I spent more time in the library than with the other kids.”

“Disappointed in you?” He didn’t have to pretend his angry astonishment. “Impossible.”

“She didn’t want a valedictorian, she wanted a prom queen.” A humorless smile curved her lips. “Or at the very least a cheerleader.”

He swore beneath his breath, wishing her mother was still alive so he could teach her just how special her daughter truly was.

And more importantly, what he did to people who would dare to hurt this female.

“Her loss,” he rasped.

“I suppose.”

He hesitated, wondering if there’d been more to her mother’s disapproval than a shallow desire for glitz rather than gold.

“Did she ever sense you were special?”

She tugged her hand from his grasp, pressing it against his chest in instant denial.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Angel—”

“No,” she muttered. “I won’t discuss it.”

“Denying your powers won’t make them go away.”

She gave another shove against his chest. “I’m hungry.”

He swallowed a sigh. At some point he was going to have to make her accept the truth of who and what she was.

But not now.

Now he had her naked in his bed, and there were far more pleasurable ways to spend the next few hours.

“Me too,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead, his hand trailing up the curve of her waist to halt just below her breast.

Her breath caught and she instinctively arched toward his hardening cock.

“Niko?”

“I swear I’ll feed you,” he promised, nipping the lobe of her ear as he rolled her flat on her back and covered her with the hard weight of his body. “Anything you want.” His hand closed over her breast, his heart coming to a complete halt as he gazed down at her wide, velvet eyes. His. His woman. “Later.”

Her hands lifted to wrap around his neck, her eyes smoldering with a matching desire.

“Much later.”

It was, in fact, much, much later when Niko at last headed for the shower and Angela made her way down to the kitchen wearing nothing more than an oversized T-shirt.

She’d discovered once she opened her bag that it was never wise to try and pack when in a blind panic. Her hasty lack of attention had made certain she had a plethora of things she didn’t need—like mismatched socks and dirty towels—and very little that she did need.

Typical.

Her luck had never been good. And lately it’d been downright crappy.

Well, except for Niko, she admitted, a precious warmth settled in the center of her heart. He was, hands down, the finest thing that had ever happened to her.

Still, it would have been nice to have her own nightshirt and a toothbrush.

Tossing a handful of dried cranberries into the large salad she’d chopped in a bowl, she was debating whether or not to make a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches when a male voice whispered directly in her ear.

“Ah, so this is where Little Red Riding Hood hides from the big bad wolf.”

Nearly leaping out of her skin, Angela whirled around to discover a stranger standing far too close for comfort.

A part of her recognized the intruder was mouthwateringly handsome with pale brown hair that was highlighted with strands of honey and eyes that were a rich gold. But a larger part was far more concerned with the lean, muscular body casually dressed in jeans and a black tee that moved with the same fluid grace as Niko.

This was no harmless trespasser.

“Shit.” She pressed a hand to her thumping heart. “Who are you?”

“I’m Arel. A friend of Niko’s.” The golden gaze skimmed down her slender body. Not so much ogling her barely covered limbs, but searching for potential defects. “He asked me to meet him here.”

Yeah. Like she was going to take his word for it.

People who were invited knocked on the front door and waited to be let in. They didn’t creep into the kitchen and terrify half-dressed scientists.

Covertly backing toward the counter behind her, Angela sought to distract the intruder.

“How did you get in?”

“Serra gave me the security codes during our short, but highly memorable affair last year.” A smile of pure male appreciation curved his lips. “Mmm. I love psychics.”

“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose as she put her hand behind her to search for the knob of the drawer. “TMI.”

He folded his arms over his chest, watching her with an amused gaze.

“The knife drawer is on the other side of the sink,” he informed her. “Of course, I seem to remember there was a rather lethal rolling pin just behind you.”

Busted.

With a sigh, Angela gave up her furtive attempt to find a weapon and instead settled for a frustrated glare.

“I suppose you’re another Sentinel?”

“I am.”

“You people should really learn it’s not nice to sneak up on others.”

He shrugged. “Old habits die hard and I have to admit I wanted a chance to check you out before we were formally introduced.”

Check her out?

That sounded . . . borderline psychotic.

“Do I need to get a restraining order?”

He chuckled at her obvious unease. “You can’t blame my fascination,” he said.

“I can’t?”

“I’ve known Niko for a very long time and never in all those years has he allowed anything or anyone to interfere with the hunt.” His gaze skimmed back to her bare legs. “Not even a woman.”

She flinched. Okay, maybe he did know Niko. At least enough to realize that Niko would do anything to catch his prey.

Still, that didn’t mean he was there as a friend.

“Don’t worry, Niko’s record remains intact,” she assured him wryly. “I was the bait, not the interference.”

The intruder arched a startled brow. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m here because he called Wolfe to say he was handing off his hunt for Dylan,” he said, a mysterious smile curving his lips. “He wanted me to take his place.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“I’ve learned that assumptions can be dangerous things,” she countered.

“Ah. Fair enough.” He studied her with a steady gaze. “He asked me to take over the hunt because he wanted to concentrate on protecting you.”

Niko had hinted that he intended to put aside his need for revenge and concentrate on her, but she hadn’t truly thought he would allow someone else to take command of the hunt.

“Oh.”

“That’s it?” the man challenged. “Oh.”

She blinked. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

He appeared unimpressed with her reaction. “Did he tell you about the Sentinels that Dylan murdered?”

She licked her dry lips. He was clearly searching for a response from her, but as always she was oblivious to the nuances of his meaning.

“He said they were friends.”

“A hell of a lot more than friends,” Arel growled. “He practically raised Fiona. She was like a daughter to him.”

Angela’s heart twisted in sympathy. She was beginning to understand Niko. It wouldn’t be enough that he would mourn the loss of his friends. Especially one he’d felt responsible for.

He would blame himself for their deaths.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded in thick tones.

“I want you to understand just what Niko is sacrificing to stay with you.”

“That’s enough, Arel,” Niko warned, leaning against the doorjamb wearing nothing more than a pair of faded jeans and a dangerous scowl.

Chapter Eight

Niko folded his arms over his bare chest, his eyes narrowed.

If he had been in a rational frame of mind, he might have appreciated Arel’s loyal attempt to protect him. It was, after all, what friends did. But there was nothing rational in his feelings for Angela, and he wasn’t about to allow anyone to threaten her.

No matter how well intentioned.

Easily sensing the tension, Angela cleared her throat then began edging toward the doorway. She didn’t need her genius-level intelligence to realize that it was time for a strategic retreat.

“I think I’ll go take a shower,” she muttered, giving a tiny gasp when he grabbed her by the waist and claimed a possessive kiss before allowing her to scurry away, his gaze never leaving Arel.

With a roll of his eyes, the young Sentinel lifted his hands in defeat.

“You’ve made your point.”

The words were casual, but Niko was well aware that having accepted Niko’s commitment to Angela, Arel would fight to the death to protect her.

It was the way of Sentinels.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, moving to lean against the countertop.

Sentinels burned calories at an accelerated rate, which meant they were always hungry.

“Yeah, I hit a drive-thru before leaving Columbia.” Arel’s expression hardened. “Tell me about your meeting with Dylan.”

Niko grimaced. “She’s not going to be convinced to turn herself over to the Mave.”

Arel shrugged. “Good.”

“She was one of us.”

“No. She never allowed herself to accept being different,” Arel said. “She was a time bomb just waiting to go off no matter how hard Wolfe tried to diffuse her bitterness.”

Niko couldn’t argue. Wolfe had done everything in his power to reach the hostile young woman, but she’d never been capable of accepting that she would never be normal.

“A damned shame.”

“It will be more of a shame if she gets her hands on your scientist,” Arel pointed out.

“That’s not happening.” His expression held no compromise. He would do whatever necessary to protect Angela.

Arel paced toward the windows overlooking the pool. “Do you think Dylan’s still in the area?”

“Yes,” Niko responded without hesitation. “She won’t leave until I get Angela out of here.”

There was a short silence before Arel turned back to study Niko’s grim expression.

“Would it be possible?”

“What?”

“Could Angela alter Dylan’s DNA?”

“Maybe.” Niko hadn’t given it a lot of thought. His fascination with Angela had nothing to do with her rare talent. “According to Calder, her manipulation of cells, or whatever the hell it is she manipulates, is still small and random, but he has hopes that once she fully embraces her talent she’ll be able to offer hope to high-bloods who suffer from mutations that are killing them.”

“Our very own Dr. Frankenstein.”

“Careful,” Niko growled.

“It wasn’t an insult,” Arel hastily assured him. “Just the opposite. Think of the potential benefits of having her work with our scientists. She could save hundreds if not thousands of lives.”

Niko shook his head. “It’s too early to know how far her skills will develop. Or even if she’ll be willing to accept her gifts.” He deliberately held his friend’s gaze. “It will be her decision. I won’t have her bullied into giving more than she’s willing to offer.”

“Not even if she can help your family?”

“She is my family.” Niko straightened, his gaze challenging. “Any argument?”

Arel gave a sudden laugh. “Niko, if I ever find a female who lights up like a neon sign just because I walked into a room I intend to do whatever I have to do to keep her.”

Niko stilled, ridiculously pleased by the soft words. “A neon sign? Did she?”

Arel shook his head in disgust. “Wipe that smug smile off your lips. There had to be one woman in the world crazy enough to fall in love with you.”

“I only need one.”

“Good God. How the mighty are fallen.” Arel hissed as the sharp sound of an alarm pierced the air. “What’s that?”

Niko was already headed into the living room, moving to stand directly in front of the line of monitors.

“Someone just broke the perimeter.”

The men frowned in unison as they studied the thick woods that surrounded the house.

“Nothing,” Arel muttered as Niko manipulated the cameras to do a complete scan of the area. “Not even a stray dog.”

“It has to be Dylan,” Niko ground out.

What the hell was she doing? She had to sense that Arel was in the house. There was no way she could hope to overpower two Sentinels.

Not without help.

“Or a distraction,” Arel stated the obvious. “You stay here and I’ll try to flush her out.”

Niko nodded in agreement. As much as he wanted to be on the hunt, his heart was firmly committed to protecting Angela.

Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about his friend.

“Arel,” he called as the younger man opened the door and stepped onto the front porch.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful,” Arel called, disappearing into the darkness.

Niko moved to shut the door and reset the alarm, then headed to the back of the house to check the locks. Stepping into the kitchen his instincts were on full alert.

Dylan.

The scent of her filled the air.

On cue, the slender female still dressed in black stepped out of the pantry and offered him a mocking smile.

“About time,” she drawled. “I thought Arel would never leave.”

“Dylan.” He clenched his hands at his side. His weapons were upstairs, but it didn’t matter. He could kill as easily with his hands. Or even a well-placed kick. “How did you get past the security system?”

Her eyes glowed with an eerie crimson heat as she strolled forward, one hand held behind her back.

A hidden weapon?

That was the most logical guess, although he couldn’t catch the scent of gunpowder or the metallic tang of a blade.

He would no doubt find out soon enough, he conceded with an explosion of frustration.

Goddammit.

Why the hell couldn’t this female simply accept that she was made precisely as nature had intended? She was graceful, strong, intensely intelligent and beautiful in an exotic fashion.

Everything most women wanted to be.

“I was watching the property when dear Arel was kind enough to punch in the codes so I didn’t have to waste time trying to sneak past the cameras,” she confessed.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“What about the alarm that just went off?”

She shrugged. “I set it off with a delayed explosion.”

Ah. Of course.

“Clever, but a waste of your time,” he said, his voice steady and his expression carefully devoid of his seething fury.

She strolled forward, a smirk curling her lips. “There’s no need for us to be enemies, Niko. Give me the female and I’ll walk away. No harm, no foul.”

“The female’s name is Angela,” he said from between clenched teeth. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Then I’ll take her.”

He shifted, making sure he was standing between the crazed bitch and the door.

“It won’t do any good. She can’t help you.”

Bitterness flared in the crimson eyes. “Oh, I think you would be surprised what people can accomplish when they’re desperate.”

“So you’ve proven,” he pointedly reminded her, his acute hearing picking up the sound of the shower being shut off overhead. Oh. Christ. Don’t come down here, Angela. “You betrayed and murdered your own family. And for what?”

“For a life beyond the prison walls.”

His brows snapped together. “Valhalla has never been a prison.”

She hissed in anger. “Not to you.”

Niko shook his head. He was wasting his breath. Dylan had convinced herself that her life had been some sort of torture at Valhalla. How else could she excuse the murder of those who’d offered her only kindness?

“And you believe if you can pass as a normal human your life will be filled with endless happiness?” he instead sneered.

Her chin tilted, the slits of her flat nose flaring in anger.

“Endless happiness? No. But fleeting happiness? Maybe,” she ground out, taking another step closer. “Why shouldn’t I have the opportunity to fall in love? To have children.”

He barely listened to her whining. He could smell . . . what? Something he couldn’t identify.

Which was worrying the hell out of him.

“If a man loves you he doesn’t care about your appearance,” he said in absent tones.

“Don’t insult me,” she snarled. “Would you be bedding your scientist if she looked like a monster?”

Niko didn’t even have to consider. “Her looks have nothing to do with my feelings.”

“Liar.”

Niko narrowed his gaze. “Believe what you want, Dylan, but be very clear on one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll kill you if you lay a hand on Angela.”

A slow smile of anticipation curled Dylan’s lips as he widened his stance and squared his shoulders.

“So at last we get to discover who the better Sentinel is.”

“Being the superior fighter doesn’t make you the better Sentinel,” he reminded her, his attention torn between the threat standing in front of him and the nagging fear that Angela would return to the kitchen before he could disable Dylan. The last thing he needed was her leaping into the fray. And she would leap. He didn’t have one damned doubt about that. “Or didn’t you learn anything in our training?”

“You mean all that shit about loyalty and honor and protecting the weak?” she mocked. “Blah, blah, blah.”

“You’re lucky Wolfe never heard you call his teaching shit.”

“I’m a warrior not a fucking Girl Scout.”

Yeah. No argument there.

The mere thought of Dylan as a Girl Scout made him shudder in horror.

“With power comes responsibility.” He repeated the words that had been drilled into his head from the minute he’d walked into Valhalla.

Dylan gave a sharp laugh, pulling her hand from behind her back to reveal the small device that was strapped around her forearm.

“And your insistence on clinging to honor will make sure I win.”

“Dammit, Dylan,” Niko breathed, recognizing the weapon that had been developed as an advanced stun gun only to be banned when it was discovered the electrical charge was enough to stop all but the strongest heart. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“I made it.” She lifted her arm toward Niko. “We all have our little talents.”

Niko darted to the side, acutely aware that it was a fifty-fifty shot of whether he could survive. If he died, or was even incapacitated, Angela would be at the mercy of the crazed Dylan.

As fast as he was, however, he wasn’t fast enough.

Even as he moved he felt the barbs pierce the skin on his back, a massive jolt of electricity blasting through his body.

Shit.

With his last coherent thought, he tried to send a mental message to Arel and warn him of the danger. Then, as his heart threatened to explode, he dropped to the floor, his head banging against the ceramic tiles with enough force to knock him unconscious.

Angela stayed in the shower until the water turned cold and her skin was pruny. She wanted to give Niko and Arel plenty of privacy to talk.

Or argue.

Or have a beer and play lawn darts.

You could never be certain with men.

She blow-dried her hair and then slipped on the one pair of clean jeans she’d managed to stuff into her bag along with a stretchy top.

She was searching for her shoes that had become lost during the heat of Niko’s lovemaking when she heard a low grunt of pain.

Had that come from the kitchen?

Had the two men come to blows?

Well, she’d be damned if she would stand aside and allow them to beat each other bloody. Especially if they were fighting about her.

Taking the steps two at a time, Angela jogged into the kitchen, not sure what to expect.

She didn’t have enough experience with men to know if they could punch one another and then make up and play nice. Or if she’d have to get between the two and try to make them stop.

Yeah, like she could actually separate two Sentinels.

Her ridiculous imaginings were destroyed by the sight of Niko lying motionless on the floor with Dylan standing next to him.

“Oh my God.” Skidding to a halt, she sucked in a horrified breath, her heart forgetting to beat. “What have you done?”

Dylan lifted her head, her crimson eyes shimmering in the overhead light.

“He’s alive, at least for now,” she purred, her fingers lightly stroking over a strange device strapped to her forearm. “Come with me without a fight and he’ll stay that way. Otherwise poor Niko will join his beloved Fiona in the grave.”

Angela nearly went to her knees at the tidal wave of relief that flowed through her.

Niko was alive.

That’s all that mattered.

“I’ll come,” she croaked. “Just leave him alone.”

Stepping over the unconscious man, Dylan moved toward Angela with a smirk.

“I knew you’d be reasonable once you understood the situation.”

A blast of anger shook through Angela. This female had murdered over a dozen innocents, not to mention members of her own family, for her own selfish desires. Now she threatened to kill the man Angela loved—yes, loved—to force Angela to perform a miracle.

If she truly could alter cells, she’d turn the bitch into a newt.

“I understand that you’re a psycho,” she muttered.

“Careful, scientist,” Dylan hissed. “My temper isn’t always stable and I might break your neck before I remember that I need you.”

It wasn’t an empty threat. Angela could see the barely leashed desire for violence shimmering in the crimson eyes.

With a shudder, she struggled to form a coherent thought through the fog of anger and sheer terror.

Niko was unconscious, but where was Arel? Had he already left? Or was he lurking close enough he could come to the rescue?

Licking her dry lips, Angela glanced down at her bare feet. “I need to get my shoes before we leave. Oh, and my purse. They’re upstairs—”

“Don’t bother trying to stall,” Dylan interrupted with sharp impatience. “Arel is still searching the woods for me. We’ll be long gone before he realizes he’s been outmaneuvered.” Her lips twisted with smug amusement. “Poor schmuck.” She gave a jerk of her head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Her heart sank. It seemed she was on her own.

“What about Niko?” Angela glanced toward Niko’s face, which was unnaturally pale. What the hell had this woman done to him? “We can’t just leave him here. He needs a doctor.”

Dylan shrugged. “He should wake in an hour or two.”

“Should?”

Dylan ran a loving finger over the strange contraption on her forearm.

It was obviously a weapon, although Angela had never seen anything like it.

“This is more or less a prototype. I can’t be sure of the lingering effects,” Dylan revealed, her glance deliberately shifting toward Niko. “Now walk or I’ll shoot him again.”

“Bitch,” Angela breathed too low to be heard, grudgingly turning to walk out the back door.

At least Arel was near, she tried to reassure herself. He would make sure that Niko was given the medical attention he needed.

And as for her . . . well, what was destined to happen would happen.

As the resigned thought flared through her mind, Dylan moved to her side, grabbing her upper arm in a ruthless grip. Then, with an obvious lack of concern for the fact that Angela was incapable of seeing in the dark, the Sentinel hauled her away from the manicured lawn to the surrounding trees.

Stumbling forward, Angela was kept upright by the silent female who prowled through the thick underbrush with an eerie grace.

Not that she appreciated the assistance. The rough jerks on her arm sent jagged bursts of pain through her shoulder and her bare feet were being shredded by the fast pace over the small rocks and thorn bushes.

At last they reached a small lake nestled among the trees that no doubt looked picturesque during the daylight, but at night reminded Angela of something out of a Friday the 13th movie.

An image that was only reinforced when they reached a car that was hidden among the shrubs and Dylan shoved her into the backseat.

“Give me your hands,” she commanded.

Angela hesitated, then held out her hands. Why bother fighting the inevitable?

Reaching behind her back, Dylan pulled out a pair of zip cuffs and bound Angela’s wrists together.

“Ow,” Angela protested as the plastic cut into her skin. “Do they have to be so tight?”

Dylan hissed in annoyance, twisting so she could reach into the front seat.

“I didn’t want to have to do this.”

Angela pressed herself back into the cushion as Dylan turned back with a roll of duct tape.

Christ, did the woman always drive around with all the tools necessary for a successful kidnapping?

“No. Please,” Angela pleaded. “I swear I’ll be quiet.”

“Yes.” The Sentinel ripped off a piece of the tape and slapped it across Angela’s mouth. “You will.”

Obviously satisfied that Angela was properly cowed, Dylan slammed shut the door and rounded the car to climb behind the steering wheel. She started the engine and set the car in motion, darting through the trees with a speed that would have made Angela screech in terror if she hadn’t had so many other things on her list of worries.

Somehow in the whole scheme of her current life, being smashed into a tree at this point didn’t seem so bad.

Eventually they hit a narrow dirt road and crashing through the gate that marked the edge of the property, Dylan shoved the gas pedal to the floor and sent them hurtling down the road with bone-jarring speed.

Angela struggled to stay upright, more than once hitting her head against the window as Dylan took a corner or hit a pothole. She lost track of time, but she sensed they were traveling east of Columbia.

Not that it mattered . . .

This time no one was going to be making a perfectly timed appearance to save her from the crazy freak. What difference did it make where she was killed and her body dumped?

Drowning in her dark thoughts, Angela barely noticed when the car came to a halt. It wasn’t until the car door was opened and Dylan was hauling her out of the backseat that she came back to her senses.

And immediately wished that she hadn’t.

Not only was her entire body one big cramp, but there was a stench of garbage and something that she couldn’t quite identify wafting in the air.

Meth?

With casual indifference to the pain she might cause, Dylan ripped the duct tape off Angela’s mouth, her expression hard with warning.

“You can scream if you want,” she said, gesturing toward the filthy trailer park that was filled with a half dozen shabby trailers. “No one around here gives a shit.”

Angela believed her.

The very air reeked of a grinding poverty that would steal the soul of anyone unfortunate enough to be stuck in the barely habitable structures. They were far too busy trying to survive in a world that threatened to crush them to worry about anyone else.

“I don’t know why you brought me here,” she muttered as Dylan forced her up the stairs of the nearest trailer. “I told you, I can’t do what you want.”

“Of course you can.” Dylan efficiently dealt with the complicated lock before swinging the door open and shoving Angela inside. “It’s all about focus.”

“But . . .” Angela’s protest died on her lips as she tripped over the threshold to discover a small living room that had been scrubbed clean and stripped of most of its furniture except for a table that was nearly hidden beneath a stack of scientific equipment. “Are those mine?” she demanded in shock.

Dylan shoved her forward so she could enter the room and shut the door behind them.

“You’ve convinced yourself you need technology to work your magic, so here it is.”

Angela scowled at the persistent implication she was a fellow freak.

“It’s not magic. And this equipment is only for my personal use. I would have to be in a fully functioning lab to try and complete my research.”

“You’ll do it here.” Removing her gloves, Dylan used a claw to slice through the cuffs that were shutting off the blood supply to Angela’s hands and pushed her toward the table. “And you’ll do it now.”

Managing to stay upright, Angela rubbed her sore wrists and pretended to study the equipment.

You couldn’t argue with a crazy person.

Besides, it gave her the opportunity to covertly survey her surroundings.

To the right was an open kitchen with the standard stove, fridge, and microwave framed by cheap cabinets. There was a window over the sink, but it was too small for her to wriggle through.

To her left a doorway led to the back of the trailer, but the lights were out and it was too dark for her to make out more than a narrow hallway.

Directly opposite her was a pair of windows, covered by hideous paisley curtains. They had potential as an escape route, she decided. Always assuming she could somehow distract her dangerous captor long enough to attempt an escape.

Sensing Dylan’s growing impatience, Angela sucked in a deep breath and turned her head to meet the crimson gaze.

“Fine. I’ll need to start with a blood sample.”

The Sentinel strolled forward, offering Angela a sneer as she reached for one of the unused slides. “Not that I don’t trust you, but I’ll do it.” Using her claw, she poked the end of her finger and smeared the drop of blood on the slide. “Here.”

Angela took the slide and grudgingly headed for the table.

It was ironic, really.

There wasn’t a scientist alive who wouldn’t sell their soul for a glimpse at this rare blood. Some would even be willingly kidnapped (okay, that was an oxymoron) for the privilege.

But Angela would have traded the opportunity in a heartbeat if it meant being safely tucked in Niko’s arms.

Turning on the microscope, she settled on the lone stool in the room and adjusted the settings, unnervingly aware of Dylan’s impatient stare.

On the wall a clock ticked and more distantly a dog barked, but what felt like a threatening silence was wrapping around Angela, making it almost impossible to concentrate.

At last she had to do something, anything to slice through the thick air.

“How did you learn about me?” She glanced up to see a puzzled expression on Dylan’s exotic face. “I mean, none of my work has been published yet.”

“Oh.” Dylan shrugged. “Your professor contacted Calder when it became obvious you were more than just another grad student.”

Angela froze, not certain what part of the explanation bothered her the most.

“Which professor?” she finally managed to croak.

“I think his name was Appold.”

The fact that the woman knew the name of the professor who’d taken Angela under his wing and had become a trusted mentor shook Angela more than she cared to admit.

Could it be true?

God almighty.

Was her growing skill at manipulating cells actually a result of some mutation?

The thought was almost too overwhelming to even contemplate.

Not because she was prejudiced against high-bloods. Or even horrified at the thought of becoming one of them.

It was quite simply impossible to spend twenty-six years of her life believing herself to be one thing, and then in the space of one day being forced to accept she was another.

She was a logical, pedantic type of gal.

She needed time to process the data.

Clearing the lump lodged in her throat, she wiped her damp hands on her jeans.

“Who is Calder?” she asked.

“The Master of Gifts,” Dylan readily explained. “His order is in charge of seeking out high-bloods who either don’t know they’re special or those who are trying to blend in among the norms.”

“And he knows my professor?”

“Yes, he’s one of Calder’s order who keeps his eyes open for high-bloods in this area.”

She briefly wondered why Appold hadn’t told her of his suspicions from the beginning. Had he intended to spring the good news on her along with her diploma?

“Here’s your doctorate, Angela, oh, and by the way, you’re a freak. . . .”

She thrust away the futile thought.

She was more interested in the future. Hey, there was a minuscule chance that she might survive the night. She needed to be prepared.

“Do they force all high-bloods to Valhalla?”

Dylan’s humorless laugh echoed through the empty trailer. “Let’s just say that they strongly encourage people to travel to the mother ship.”

“Why?”

“They need to know if you are going to be a danger to yourself or others.”

“Oh.” Angela slowly nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Fantastic,” her companion mocked. “Now that we’ve shared our little heart-to-heart, will you get to work?”

She heaved a sigh, knowing she’d put off the inevitable for as long as possible.

“Fine, but I’m warning you . . .”

Her words came to a stuttering halt as she glanced into the microscope and actually concentrated on the blood sample.

“Good . . . Lord.”

Dylan moved to stand at her side. “What?”

“I’ve never seen cells like this,” she muttered, distracted in spite of herself. “Fascinating.”

“I don’t want to be fascinating,” Dylan snapped. “I want to be normal.”

Angela lifted her head to watch Dylan’s expression harden with bitter self-hatred.

“You know that none of us are normal?” She tried to squash the woman’s expectations. Every woman wanted to look like Megan Fox, but the reality was that fate was rarely that kind. “There are differences in all of us, some are just greater than others.”

The crimson eyes flared with fury. “I don’t need a lesson in biology, I need a cure.”

“But—”

A claw pressed to her throat, bringing her words to a sharp halt.

“Let me make this simple, scientist,” she snarled in lethally soft tones. “Do it or die.”

Chapter Nine

This wasn’t the first time that Niko had stared death in the face.

Years before he’d fought off a group of morons who were in the process of lynching a young female psychic who’d been trying to make a living as a traveling gypsy.

Another time he was tracking a witch who was convinced she was destined to trigger doomsday and got caught in her lethal spell.

But he’d never teetered so close to the edge.

And certainly he’d never debated whether it would be preferable to battle through the pain so he could live. Or simply slip into the waiting darkness.

It was the image of dark, serious eyes and a lush, feminine mouth that had driven him to madness only hours before that gave him the grim determination to crawl back from the abyss. And, of course, the persistent sound of his name being shouted in his ear.

Scowling in annoyance, he forced open his heavy lids, not at all surprised to discover his fellow Sentinel crouched beside him with a worried expression.

“Arel?” he managed to croak.

Fierce relief flared through the golden eyes. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

Pressing a hand to his aching head, Niko struggled to a sitting position. Shit. He was as weak as a kitten.

“Why the hell am I lying on the floor?”

“A good question.” Arel’s gaze was watchful, no doubt assessing whether he needed to call for a healer. “I’m assuming it has something to do with Dylan.”

“Dylan.” The memory of the crimson-eyed bitch who’d tried to crispy-fry him seared through his mind. “She was here.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Arel growled, his fury barely leashed. “What did she do to you?”

Even though his mind was fuzzy, Niko had a vivid recollection of the pain that had halted his heart.

“She shot me with a shockwave.”

Arel frowned. “I thought they’d all been confiscated?”

“She claims that she built her own.”

“Of course she did.” Arel curled his lips in disgust. They’d all known Dylan spent her free time tinkering with her inventions. A pity they hadn’t kept a closer eye on just what she was building. “Bitch.”

Slowly gathering his wits, Niko glanced around the empty kitchen, his abused heart slamming against his ribs.

“Angela?”

Arel grimaced. “Gone.”

“Goddammit.”

Niko surged to his feet only to lurch forward as his legs refused to cooperate. Thankfully, Arel was swiftly rising to catch him before he could do a face-plant.

“Before you have a meltdown, I can track them,” Arel hastily assured him.

“I don’t doubt your skill, amigo, but—”

“No, it’s not about skill,” Arel interrupted, making sure that Niko could stand on his own before he stepped back and pulled a phone from his pocket. “Look.”

Niko blinked to clear his bleary gaze, then focused on the road map that was visible on the phone screen. Leaning closer, he noticed the tiny light that was blinking.

GPS.

And if he knew Arel, then the blinking red dot was Dylan.

“You tagged her?” he demanded, afraid to hope.

Arel smiled with grim satisfaction. “I set a trigger on the back porch before I came in. As soon as Dylan opened the door it attached itself to her shoe.”

Niko released a shaky sigh despite the cold chill that inched down his spine at the realization of how easy it would have been for Dylan to disappear with Angela while he was unconscious.

“What if she hadn’t come through the back door?”

“I might have set a few others,” Arel admitted. “You know me. Better safe than sorry.”

“You?” Niko snorted. “Safe?”

Arel gave a casual lift of his shoulder. “Okay, call it overkill.”

Overkill. Yeah. That was definitely more Arel’s style.

“How long have I been out?”

“At least half an hour.”

Niko growled in frustration. Dylan might need Angela alive and relatively unharmed if she was to get what she so desperately wanted, but that was no guarantee of her safety. The female Sentinel was as volatile as she was unstable.

A lethal combination.

“We have to go.”

Arel moved to block his stumbling path toward the door. “Dammit, Niko, you can barely stand.”

Niko glared at his friend. “Don’t even start.”

“Be sensible. I could travel faster without you.”

Niko was shaking his head before Arel finished. “This is an argument you’re not going to win, so give it up.”

“Stubborn bastard.”

Moving like a drunken sailor, Niko sidestepped Arel and continued across the room and out the back door. He’d made it past the pool when Arel caught up with him. Offering Niko a frustrated scowl, the younger Sentinel led him to the garage where he’d hidden his vehicle.

Niko lurched into the garage, giving a lift of his brows at the sight of the large four-wheel drive pickup with massive tires that looked like they should have been on a tank.

“Christ,” he muttered, struggling to lift his foot high enough to reach the running board. “Overcompensating for anything, amigo?”

“I just like power,” Arel said, giving Niko a shove in the ass to get him up and in the passenger seat.

Slamming shut the door, Niko waited for his companion to swing behind the driver’s wheel and start the engine.

“If you say so,” he mocked at the throaty roar that filled the air.

Arel shot him a jaundiced glare, pausing to attach his phone to a mount on the dashboard before backing out of the garage.

“You’re not in any condition to question my manhood.”

“Which is the only reason I’m questioning it now,” Niko confessed, leaning his throbbing head against the seat. “You can’t kick my ass when I’m hurt.”

“Don’t count on it.” With an evil grin, Arel shoved the truck in gear and took off like a bat out of hell. “Hold on.”

“Shit.” Niko braced his hands against the glove compartment, clenching his teeth as the truck swerved around a corner and bounced across a shallow ditch to head straight across an empty field. “Is there something wrong with the road?”

“Shut up,” Arel muttered, his gaze shifting between the dark field and the map on his phone.

Niko bit his tongue, closing his eyes so he could try and concentrate on recuperating his strength. Dylan had clearly gone over the edge. There was no reasoning, no hope of compromise with the female.

This was going to be a fight to the death.

He managed to maintain his silence until Arel rammed through a fence at a hundred miles an hour and nearly sent them into the lake.

No one was more anxious than he was to get to Angela. No one. But he was just beginning to shake off the effects of the shockwave. He couldn’t afford to be injured before he even reached Dylan.

“I could drive,” he rasped.

Arel slowed as they neared the signal still blinking on the GPS.

“Has anyone told you that you have control issues?”

Always.

“Never,” he lied as Arel pulled the truck to a halt just outside a trailer park.

“Dylan’s close,” Arel murmured, his nose wrinkling at the stench of garbage and human misery. “Damn. Why here?”

Niko allowed his gaze to search the heavy shadows that shrouded the park, briefly puzzled by the tug of awareness that flowed through him.

Was this a new trick of Dylan’s?

Then, as the sensation settled deep in his heart, he realized this was no trick.

And it had nothing to do with Dylan.

“Niko?”

Belatedly realizing that Arel was studying him with a worried gaze, Niko returned his attention to their grim surroundings.

“If she intended to have a hostage she would want to be isolated from nosy neighbors.”

“True.” Arel pointed across the narrow parking lot. “There’s her car. Stay here and I’ll find out which trailer she’s in.”

“No need.” Niko nodded toward the trailer set a short distance from the others. “It’s that one.”

Arel turned to frown at him. “How can you be sure?”

Niko pressed a hand to the center of his chest. “I can feel Angela.”

Arel’s golden eyes widened in shock.

On very rare occasions a high-blood could be so deeply connected to another that they formed a bond that could be felt on a physical level.

Niko had always pitied the poor schmucks who allowed themselves to be melded. Why would anyone want to be leashed for their entire lives?

It was . . . abnormal.

Now, he accepted he hadn’t known a damned thing.

This wasn’t a leash, and it certainly wasn’t abnormal.

It was as perfect and natural as breathing.

Angela completed him.

Yeah, yeah. It was sappy. But that’s exactly how he felt.

“It’s gone that far?” Arel growled, not nearly as pleased as Niko by the unexpected gift.

Niko smiled, shoving open the door of the truck so he could jump out to stand on the dirt path.

“So it would seem.”

Arel cursed, hurriedly moving to stand at Niko’s side. “You still need to stay here while I scout out the best way to stage an attack.”

“There’s no strategy.” His gaze searched the trailer for any hidden traps. “I’ll go in the front door and while Dylan is distracted you’ll go in from the back and rescue Angela.”

In less than a heartbeat Arel was standing directly in front of him, his hands planted on his hips and his expression set in stubborn lines.

“No.”

Niko narrowed his gaze. “I don’t want to pull rank, but I will.”

“You’re no longer in charge of this mission,” Arel reminded him in sharp tones. “I am.”

“I’m taking back command.”

“Goddammit, Niko. You’re not thinking clearly.”

Niko refused to back down. “I’m thinking clearly enough to know I’m going to kill that bitch.”

“How?” Arel snapped. “There’s no way in hell you could survive another hit from her weapon.”

Niko couldn’t deny the blunt truth. It’d been a miracle that his heart had restarted after the first shock. The chance it could endure another blast . . . it was pretty much zero to none.

But it didn’t change a damned thing.

He was going to do whatever it took to get Angela out of that trailer safe and sound.

Whatever it took.

“I’m prepared this time,” he tried to reassure his companion. “She won’t have a chance to shoot me.”

“Niko—”

Growingly anxious to reach Angela, Niko didn’t wait to hear Arel’s arguments. He understood his friend’s concerns. Hell, he even agreed with them.

He was emotionally compromised and physically weakened. But none of that mattered.

Not now.

“Let’s do this thing,” he said, heading directly toward the trailer.

Dylan would sense his approach before he could reach the door. There was no point in being subtle.

Besides, he wanted the bitch focused on him. That was the only way Arel would be able to slip in unnoticed.

“Goddammit.” Arel moved to walk beside him. “If you get yourself killed I swear I’ll drag your sorry ass back from the grave.”

Niko grimaced. “Not even a necro can perform that miracle.”

Necromancers—or diviners—couldn’t actually manipulate the dead, although they were capable of entering the recently deceased’s minds to view their last thoughts.

“I’ll travel to hell myself if I have to,” Arel muttered.

Niko turned to meet his friend’s worried gaze. “Just promise me that you’ll make sure Angela is safe, no matter what happens.”

The lean face tightened, as if Arel was struggling against the urge to continue his futile argument. Then, heaving a sigh of resignation, he clapped Niko on his shoulder.

“You know you don’t even have to ask, amigo. I’ve always considered you my brother. How could I treat your woman as anything less than my sister?”

It was exactly what he’d expected, but he needed to hear the words spoken out loud.

“Thank you.” He returned his attention to the trailer. “Now go.”

Waiting until Arel had jogged to the back of the lot, Niko stepped onto the pavement that marked the edge of the park, a humorless smile curling his lips as the door to the trailer was thrown open and Dylan confronted him with an infuriated scowl.

“How the hell did you find me?” she snarled.

Niko hid his shudder of relief as he caught Angela’s scent. He could smell her terror. It spiced the air. But on the plus side her heart was still beating and there was no hint of blood.

Thank the gods.

“Ah, Dylan.” He forced a mocking smile to his lips. “Long time, no see.”

Her eyes glowed like pits of hell in the moonlight. “I asked you a question.”

He halted several feet away, but Dylan remained firmly lodged in the doorway. Dammit. He needed to lure her away from the trailer. Something easier said than done.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m the better Sentinel?” He deliberately prodded her pride. “It doesn’t matter where you go or how hard you try to hide, I will always find you.”

She stroked her fingers over the weapon still strapped around her forearm.

“Not if you’re dead.”

“Fool me once, shame on you.” He curled his forefinger in invitation. “Aren’t you going to come out and play?”

She leaned against the doorjamb. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Afraid?”

“Too well trained to fall for such an obvious trap.” She sniffed the air. “Where is Arel? Trying to sneak in the back door?”

Niko’s smile never faltered despite his stab of fear. The bitch was supposed to be attacking him, not remaining lodged in the trailer like a rabid guard dog.

So how did he convince her that she had no choice but to fight?

By proving that the risk of leaving Arel and me alive is too great . . .

The thought seared through his mind at the same time he was struck by inspiration.

There was only one thing that Dylan feared.

And that was losing her one chance to be made normal.

She had to believe her dreams were about to be shattered.

Niko folded his arms across his chest, trying to look nonchalant.

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t slip away before we could finish this.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” Dylan flared her flat nose in what he assumed was disdain. “Or your devoted sycophant.”

“Arel isn’t going to be happy to be called a sycophant,” he drawled. “And I don’t give a shit if you’re scared or not. All I need to do is keep you cornered until the cavalry rides to the rescue.”

She pretended indifference, but Niko didn’t miss the sudden tension that gripped her body.

“What do you mean?”

“Arel contacted Wolfe when he found me unconscious,” he smoothly lied, betting on the fact this female wouldn’t have any inside connections left at Valhalla. One phone call and his fib would blow up in his face. “The Tagos wasn’t pleased to discover you’re carrying around an illegal weapon, let alone kidnapping a scientist who they hope will be the salvation of those high-bloods who can’t survive their mutations.”

Her laugh was strained. “I suppose you want me to believe he’s sending a hundred—oh wait, maybe it’s a thousand—warriors to capture me?”

“I don’t have a clue, but since the guardians can only transport two or three at a time, you won’t have to worry about a thousand arriving on your doorstep.” He waved a languid hand toward the empty road. “At least not in the next hour or so.”

Dylan frowned, proving she hadn’t had word that the guardians were refusing to leave their necros, and that there was no possibility of any backup arriving in time.

“No,” she hissed. “You won’t ruin this for me. Not now.”

He smiled in open challenge. “There’s no escape.”

The crimson eyes at last smoldered with the panic he’d been hoping for.

Even a Sentinel made stupid decisions when driven by fear.

“I can go through you,” she rasped.

He held out his arms in mocking invitation. “You can’t kill two of us.”

“Watch me.”

Lifting her arm she released a blast from her shockwave. Already anticipating the shot, Niko lunged to the side, allowing the electrical charge to slam into the tree behind him.

“Is that all you got?” he taunted, brushing off the bits of bark and shattered wood that clung to his jeans.

“And the healers told me that I was the one with the death wish,” Dylan snarled, leaping off the front steps of the trailer even as she was sending another invisible bolt of power in his direction.

He felt his hair rise as the electricity filled the air, his gaze trained on the female launching a kick at his head.

Distantly he was aware of the wary humans peeking out their windows and a few braver souls who stepped out of their shabby homes, but he didn’t worry they would interfere.

Life was difficult enough for these norms. They didn’t willingly place themselves in danger.

He was far more concerned by the barely audible sound of Arel’s soft murmur as he spoke to Angela. No doubt he was trying to convince her to slip through the back door rather than charging into the fray. His scientist might be brilliant, but she could be as stubborn as hell.

Reassured by the sudden fading of her scent, Niko grasped Dylan’s foot and twisted it to the side. The well-trained Sentinel flowed through the air, easily landing on her feet as she let off another shot.

Niko hissed as the bolt went just above his ducked head, close enough to make his ears ring.

Christ. He had to disable the shockwave. Sooner or later he was going to run out of luck. And then . . .

Bad, bad things were going to happen.

Avoiding a punch aimed at his chin, he charged forward, ramming his larger form into Dylan’s slender body. Together they hit the ground with enough impact to rattle Niko’s teeth and knock the air from his lungs.

She jerked her head backward, making him see stars as she connected with his chin. Then, when he maintained his grim hold, she turned her head to sink her sharp teeth into his forearm.

“Shit, Dylan,” he growled.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

He ignored the pain of his torn flesh. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Then we’ll both die.”

“You’re in no position to threaten—” He forgot what he was going to say as she twisted to the side, managing to lift her arm far enough to press a button on her homemade weapon. A clock appeared on a digital panel, the numbers counting backward. “What have you done?”

“Every evil villain has a way to self-destruct,” she jeered. “Unless you release me then we both go boom.”

He believed her.

Dylan might be crazy as a hatter, but she didn’t bluff.

If she said the thing was going to self-destruct, then that’s exactly what it was going to do.

The question was whether he held on or risked letting her go so she could disarm the weapon. He wasn’t a martyr. Not by a long shot, but he knew if he let go of Dylan there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t escape. Or even manage to kill him with her stun-gun-from-hell.

Hearing the sound of his name, he lifted his head to see Arel standing at the back of the trailer with a struggling Angela in his arms.

She was clearly trying to break free so she could get to him, even knowing she was no match for a Sentinel.

And in that moment his decision was made.

The fragile, precious female would never be safe so long as Dylan lived.

And if that meant he had to sacrifice himself in the bargain . . . then it was a price he would pay without regret.

“Then we both die,” he said, his gaze glued on Angela as time ran out.

Angela hadn’t wanted to sneak out the back door with Arel. Not when she heard Niko baiting the deranged female Sentinel.

The aggravating man was risking his own life so she could be rescued.

But Arel hadn’t given her much choice as he’d simply grabbed her by the waist and hauled her down the narrow hall and out the door. It wasn’t until they rounded the trailer to see Niko on the ground with Dylan that Arel came to an abrupt halt, as transfixed as Angela by the sight of the two warriors lying so still.

Something was happening.

Something . . . terrible.

Futilely trying to squirm out of Arel’s ruthless grasp, she turned her head to glare at her captor in frustration.

“Dammit, what are you doing? We have to help him.”

Arel’s handsome features looked as if they’d been carved from granite. “He made me swear to keep you safe.”

“I don’t care, I—”

She was still turned toward Arel when an explosion sent them both tumbling to the ground.

“Shit,” Arel rasped, already on his feet and racing across the pavement before Angela managed to regain her senses.

Holy crap.

With her ears ringing and her skin raw from being peppered by the barrage of small stones and shattered glass that had been caught in the blast, she lurched upright, her blurry gaze immediately searching for Niko.

He was still on the ground, but Dylan—or at least what was left of the female Sentinel—had been blown several feet away. Arel was standing over her, his face twisted with an odd combination of fury and sorrow as he bent to pick up the weapon that lay beside her ruined body.

That bit of twisted metal had to have been the source of the explosion, but Angela didn’t give a shit about the how or even the why.

She just needed to know that Niko was okay.

Falling to her knees at his side, she reached to brush her hand over his cheek.

“Niko,” she breathed, a savage pain clawing at her heart as she felt the heat rapidly draining from his skin.

Arel crossed to kneel next to her, the force of his anger a tangible sizzle in the air as he gently turned Niko onto his back to reveal the gaping wound that marred his chest.

“Goddamn that bitch.”

Angela’s fingers frantically moved to Niko’s throat. She was unable to look at his bloody, torn flesh.

“I can’t find a pulse,” she said on a soft sob. “What can we do?”

There was a long, agonizing hesitation before Arel awkwardly rose to his feet and pulled a phone from his pocket.

“I’ll call for a healer.”

“They’ll never get here in time.”

“Just—” Arel gave a helpless shake of his head. “Stay here.”

Angela watched the younger Sentinel walk away with the phone pressed to his ear before she turned back to the terrifyingly motionless man lying at her knees.

“Oh, Niko. Don’t you dare leave me,” she quietly murmured, her hands running a path along the gruesome injury as she willed his shredded heart to beat. “Not after you forced me out of my laboratory. And made me discover who I am.” Her teardrops trailed down her cheek and dropped into Niko’s tousled hair, shimmering in the copper highlights. Oh . . . God. He couldn’t die. She wouldn’t let him. “And then you went and made me fall in love with you, you irritating man.” There were more tears, and a strange heat that seemed to flow from her palms. She ignored both as she continued to pour out her raw, mindless grief. “I can’t do this alone. I need you.” She lowered her head until her face was buried in his throat, drowning in his familiar scent. “Please, Niko, please.”

She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there, rubbing her hands over Niko’s chest, but it was at last the feel of fingers lightly touching her shoulder that brought her back to her surroundings.

“Angela,” Arel murmured softly.

“No, I can’t bear it.”

“Angela, look.”

Reluctantly she straightened, assuming that Arel was warning someone was approaching.

“What?” she demanded when she realized the lot was empty.

With a bemused expression, he pointed toward her hands, which remained on Niko’s chest.

“That.”

It took a minute to see through the tears, then slowly she focused on the torn flesh that had started to knit back together.

“Oh my God,” she breathed in shock. “He’s healing.”

“You’re healing him,” Arel insisted.

She froze at his astonishing claim. “Me?”

“He has a heartbeat.” Arel’s fingers tightened on her shoulder, his urgent tone sending a flare of hope through her heavy anguish. “Don’t stop.”

“Niko.” Her hand resumed its soft strokes, her gaze glued to his face. Did he have more color than before? And was that a breath she heard? “Niko, can you hear me?”

There was nothing for long, agonizing minutes. Then, when she was beginning to fear that her grief was making her imagination run wild, there was a flutter of his lashes.

“Angela?” he croaked in husky tones.

She gave a choked cry, overwhelmed with relief. “It’s a miracle.”

Arel released a joyous laugh, his fingers giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“You’re the miracle.”

“Finally, you got something right, amigo,” Niko whispered, his gaze trained on Angela’s flushed face. “She is a miracle. My miracle.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I mean . . . I’ve been able to alter cells on a small scale, but this—”

“Gifts often reveal themselves under stress,” Arel said. “Although not usually with such spectacular results.”

“I’m not sure I could ever do it again,” she admitted, still shaken by the thought of how close she’d come to losing the man she loved.

“Your powers are yours, angel. No one will ever force you to offer more than you’re comfortable giving.” Niko lifted a hand to brush away her tears. “Now can we go home?”

“Home?” She studied his beloved features, knowing he wasn’t referring to her empty apartment. “You mean Valhalla?”

“Yes.” He managed a weak smile, his thumb tracing her lower lip. “You’re one of us now.”

Her eyes shifted to the wound that was continuing to heal before returning to meet his steady gaze.

She was one of them.

A freak.

A high-blood.

A Sentinel’s lover.

And nothing had ever made her happier.

“You’re right,” she murmured, bending down to gently kiss the man who offered her a future she never dreamed possible. “It’s time to go home.”

Hello Readers!

I hope you enjoyed Angela and Niko’s story. This is a short introduction to my new series, The Sentinels. This series will revolve around people who are “gifted” with special abilities and the warriors who protect them. Next up is Duncan O’Conner’s story. He’s a hard-nosed police detective who requests the services of Callie Brown, a high-blood necromancer, when a young woman is found murdered in her kitchen. Callie’s skill allows her to view the last memories of the dead before the soul leaves the body. Most cops consider it a gruesome talent, but Duncan isn’t so squeamish. Callie has managed to solve a dozen murders over the past five years. Besides, he can’t deny a fascination with the beautiful high-blood. She stirs a passion in him that threatens to consume them both.

Coming in June 2013 will be Darkness Avenged, Santiago and Nefri’s story. Can you believe this is the tenth book in the Guardians of Eternity series? I never imagined when I first came up with the idea of a clan of vampires in Chicago that it would grow and expand to include such a wide variety of creatures. Weres, witches, Sylvermyst, and of course, one naughty gargoyle. And it’s all because of you!

So thank you dear readers, and happy reading!

Alexandra Ivy