Born in Blood (The Sentinels)

by Alexandra Ivy

  “About you?” he asked between clenched teeth.

  “In part.” She ran her hands down the length of his rigid back, her touch soothing. “He believes you’re devastated by the marriage of your wife.”

  “Ex-wife.”

  She tried not to be pleased by his fierce correction.

  But hey, she was human. Or at least, she had the usual human emotions.

  Her fingers skimmed back to his shoulders. “He’s convinced that she was your soul mate and that you’re going to regret our relationship once you come to your senses.”

  The hazel eyes darkened with the threat of violence. “He said that?”

  She grimaced. “Yes.”

  “The bastard. I’ll kill him.”

  “No, Duncan, he’s your friend,” she said in urgent tones. This was exactly what she feared. “Of course he’s going to be worried about you.”

  “He hurt you.”

  She shook her head. “No he didn’t.”

  His fingers cupped her chin as he held her gaze with a somber intensity. “Callie, if this is going to work we have to be honest with each other.”

  He was right. The words that Frank had spoken were already festering deep inside her. Threatening to destroy the joy she felt when she was with Duncan.

  The only way to deal with it was to get it out in the open.

  Like lancing an infected wound.

  “He didn’t hurt me, but he did remind me of the cost you’ll have to pay to be with me,” she said, her voice so low he had to lower his head to catch her words. “It’s . . . not going to be easy for you.”

  He stilled, as if surprised by her words. “Not just me, Callie,” he finally said. “It’s going to be difficult for both of us.”

  She reached up to touch his jaw. “Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

  He studied her concerned expression before he slowly dipped down to kiss her with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.

  “I’m trying,” he murmured against her lips. “Although I can’t guarantee that I won’t get pissed off when I think you’re being insulted.”

  “I don’t want you losing your friends.”

  Another kiss. Slower . . . deeper.

  “If they’re truly my friends then they’ll understand when I tell them to fuck off.” His tongue stroked a damp path along her lower lip. “And if they want to be turd-heads, then they can get the hell out of my life.”

  She gave a reluctant chuckle. “Turd-heads?”

  “Yep, turd-heads.” He trailed a line of kisses up her jaw before he lifted his head to regard her with a hint of question. “And you? Are you ready for it?”

  She held his gaze. “When I’m with you I feel like I can face anything.”

  His expression softened, some undefinable emotion smoldering in his eyes.

  “Even jackass cops?” he rasped.

  “I’m more afraid of your mother.”

  He smiled with a sinful intent, his hand sliding over her shoulder and down to cup the swell of her breast.

  “You know, I have a perfect way of taking your mind off my ma and interfering friends.” His thumb rubbed the tip of her nipple into a tight peak. “Oh, and the potential end of the world.”

  “Hmm.” Her nails scraped down his back, a honey-heat flowing through her body. “This had better be a damned good distraction,” she teased, her foot stroking up the back of his calf.

  He gave a soft moan, burying his face in the curve of her neck. “Oh, I think you’ll like it.”

  “Just like it?”

  His lips found the pulse that thundered at the base of her throat.

  “If I’m very lucky, you’ll love it,” he whispered, angling his hips and sliding deep into her body with one smooth stroke.

  “Duncan—”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dawn had barely crested when Zak left his private chambers and entered the small room at the back of the house. As always, a full breakfast was waiting for him, along with a stack of the morning papers.

  He ignored the sizzling sense of anticipation that filled his veins like the finest champagne as he went through his morning routine with a careful precision. The lure of the chalice had haunted him the entire night, but now wasn’t the time to be bewitched by the whispers of power.

  No.

  He needed an orderly mind.

  An utter state of calm.

  And the realization that the closer he came to achieving his destiny, the more careful he had to be.

  Today he put his pawns in position and prepared the last of his strategy.

  And of course, cleaned up his loose ends.

  On cue, Tony entered the room, looking worse than many corpses Zak had raised.

  The servant had clearly not slept. Or even bathed. His dark hair was sticking up in small clumps and his cheeks were unshaved. He’d made an effort to dress in a clean pair of slacks and a white shirt, but he’d forgotten his shoes and his belt hung unfastened around his thick waist.

  “Tony,” Zak murmured softly. “Where’s the cop?”

  The servant anxiously shifted his feet. “He’s in the kitchen having a cup of coffee. I told him I had to check and make sure my employers weren’t up yet.”

  “Excellent.” Zak laid aside his napkin and rose to his feet. “He doesn’t suspect he’s being led to a trap?”

  “Nope.” Tony did more shifting. “He knows I occasionally . . . barter information for cash.”

  Zak rounded the table, absently straightening the cuffs of his black Armani suit. Unlike Tony, he understood the importance of presenting an image of strength.

  “Use the tunnels to bring him into the basement.”

  The man scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “He’s going to be armed.”

  “Human weapons don’t frighten me.”

  “They do me,” Tony muttered.

  Zak shrugged. “Once the cop is in my private laboratory you may leave.”

  “Always supposing he doesn’t shoot me in the back before we get there.”

  Zak smiled with a cold indifference. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  Tony lost what little color he had left. “Fantastic.”

  Indifferent to his servant’s barely contained panic, Zak strolled out of the room and down the hall. It was still early, but he had tasks to finish before the cop arrived.

  Reaching his office, his steps slowed as he caught the unmistakable scent of candle wax and blood.

  Anya.

  An icy smile touched his lips as he cautiously pressed open the door and scanned the room to make sure there were no unwelcome surprises.

  Nothing was out of place. Not unless he counted the slender, redheaded woman who was covertly searching through the drawers of his desk.

  Stepping into the room, he closed the door and silently glided across the carpet to stand directly behind the intruder.

  “I thought I might find you here, witch,” he murmured.

  With a gasp, Anya whirled around to face him, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Zak.”

  Holding her wide gaze, Zak leaned to the side and released the hidden lever. With a click the panel slid open and he reached into the compartment to remove the chalice.

  “Is this what you were searching for?”

  She wisely shrank back as he straightened to hold the chalice between them.

  “Of course not.” She swallowed, then with an obvious effort, she forced a stiff smile to her lips. “I was searching for an amulet that I dropped here yesterday.”

  Zak clicked his tongue, carefully setting the chalice on the desk.

  “You really are a terrible liar,” he drawled.

  “I . . . I have no reason to lie.”

  “True. Such days are behind us.” He reached to wrap his fingers lightly around her throat. Not hard enough to hurt. Not yet. “Tell me, Anya, why did you do it?”

  She went rigid, but she was smart enough not to try and break free.

&nb
sp; “Do what?” she croaked.

  “Betray me.”

  “I don’t . . .” She gave a choked cry as his fingers tightened. “Zak, no.”

  “I’m not stupid, Anya.” The words were edged with ice. “There’s no one else who could have kept the coin out of my grasp for so long.”

  “The Brotherhood—”

  “A band of idiots who would never have been capable of outwitting me if they hadn’t had a spy to warn them when I was about to strike,” he interrupted, his narrowed gaze watching the emotions dart over her face.

  Fear . . . desperation ... cunning.

  “A spy?” she finally tried to bluff.

  His thumb pressed against the pulse that thundered just below her jaw.

  “You.”

  Her laugh was laced with a barely concealed hysteria. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m very, very serious,” he said softly.

  “But—” She struggled to recall the glib excuses she’d used for years to divert his suspicions. “If it was me, then why wouldn’t I have warned Calso?”

  His gaze drifted down to the unsteady line of her lips. “I admit I thought that it was a trap until I had my hands on the chalice. Now I can only assume that something went wrong.” Her breath quickened, a certain sign that his guess had been a good one. “So what happened, my dear? Did they fail to heed your warning? Or did you realize I was becoming suspicious and decide it wasn’t worth the risk?”

  “It makes no sense, Zak,” Anya stubbornly insisted. She was nothing if not tenacious. It was the only reason she’d survived over the centuries. “My fate is tied to yours.”

  “So I thought.”

  She licked her lips, growing alarmed by his refusal to accept her innocence.

  “I rescued you from the flames,” she reminded him. “I stood guard over your mutilated body for a century. I led you to the hidden temple. Why would I sacrifice so much only to betray you?”

  He arched his brows. Surely she wasn’t hoping to stir a sense of gratitude? This woman better than anyone should know he didn’t indulge in human emotions.

  “That’s what you’re going to tell me,” he assured her. “So start explaining.”

  “I’ve told you—”

  He heaved a mock sigh of disappointment, his fingers slowly, ruthlessly tightening around her throat.

  “We have been together a very long time, Anya. I didn’t want to have to hurt you.” His fingers slowly, ruthlessly began to crush her throat. “But I will.”

  “Don’t,” she managed to croak, tears streaming down her ashen cheeks.

  “Tell me, witch.” He leaned down until they were nose to nose, the chill of his power swirling through the air. “Tell me why.”

  She shuddered in pain, her hands lifting to grasp his wrists.

  “Because I love you,” she hissed.

  “Love?”

  His humorless laugh echoed through the study. This woman was capable of lust, greed, and a narcissistic ambition. But love?

  A barracuda had more of a heart than she did.

  “Yes,” she insisted, a sudden color returning to her cheeks. “You can’t be surprised. Why would any woman devote her life to a man if not for love?”

  “You truly must believe me to be a fool,” he sneered, his fingers easing just enough to allow her to suck in a shaky breath.

  He wanted this to be slow.

  And painful.

  Very, very painful.

  “It’s the truth,” she pleaded.

  “I don’t claim to be an expert on human emotions, but I’m fairly certain that love doesn’t include treachery.” He met her wary gaze, his expression cold, merciless. “Not unless you happen to be a character from Shakespeare. And you know how much I detest Shakespeare.”

  “It didn’t start off as treachery.”

  “No?”

  “No.” The amulet around her neck glowed with a faint light. No doubt a last-ditch attempt to sway him into believing her imploring words. She’d always had a talent for coercing others. Unfortunately for her, he’d never been susceptible. “When we first met I was attracted to your power. That was why I assisted you in gaining the attention of the czarina.”

  He made a sound of disgust. “I didn’t need your assistance.”

  “Maybe not, but you would never have known of your destiny unless I had revealed the temple to you.”

  “It would have been revealed eventually. My fate has been waiting for me since the dawn of civilization.” Zak lifted his shoulder in a dismissive gesture. “Besides, I promised to make you queen of the world. A fair trade for your information.”

  “And that’s all I desired. Even after I rescued you from the flames and protected you from your enemies. It wasn’t until—” She deliberately allowed her words to trail away.

  “Until?”

  “Until we became lovers that my feelings deepened.”

  “Lovers?” His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “We had sex to ensure my ultimate victory.”

  She swiftly disguised the fury that flared through her eyes.

  “Call it whatever you want,” she said, lowering her voice to a seductive invitation. “I spent night after night in your arms and it created a bond between us.”

  Ntght after night . . .

  Zak snapped his teeth together, struck by her soft words.

  Christ. He’d just sworn he wasn’t a fool, but it was obvious that’s exactly what he’d been.

  This . . . female . . . had used his lack of interest in the tedious details of procreation to hold him hostage.

  And the most galling part of all, was that he hadn’t even suspected he was being played.

  “You clever little bitch.”

  With each frigid word his fingers tightened, his nails digging into her skin until blood dripped down her throat.

  “Zak,” Anya squawked, her eyes bulging. “Stop.”

  “You claimed that your dark magic made it almost impossible for you to conceive,” he snarled, his lips curled with disgust. “A lie, wasn’t it, Anya?”

  It took several tries before she could speak past the pain. “Not entirely.”

  “A lie.”

  “No.” She helplessly gripped his wrists, trying to pry away his punishing hand. “It truly is more difficult.”

  He studied her pale face with an uncharacteristic loathing. Emotions were a waste of energy. Regrettably, there were times when they refused to be suppressed.

  Like now.

  “But you made certain it was impossible.”

  “Yes,” she rasped. “I knew once you had what you wanted you would no longer invite me to your bend.”

  “So why—” He bit off his question, abruptly recalling the days before Anya’s announcement she was at last pregnant. “Of course. I said I was weary of your lack of production. I intended to find another woman to carry my seed.”

  She lowered her gaze, artfully allowing her lips to quiver. Such a fine performance, he sourly acknowledged. A pity she didn’t have an audience to appreciate her effort.

  “I couldn’t allow you to take another lover.”

  “Allow?”

  “I was desperate,” she said in tragic tones. “In the end, all I could do was give you the child you wanted and hope that you could see that we were so much more than mere partners.”

  He made a sound of disgust. “You were never my partner.”

  Her performance faltered as a surge of bitterness darkened her eyes.

  “No, I was merely a means to an end,” she muttered.

  True enough. His fingers tightened, making her shudder in agony.

  “When did you begin betraying me to the Brotherhood?” he asked.

  She clutched at his arms, a panic twisting her face as the bones began to pop in her neck.

  “I can’t . . . breathe.”

  “Oh, I think you can if you really try, my dear,” he drawled. Witches didn’t have the healing capabilities of a Sentinel, but they did have a
higher tolerance to damage than mere humans. “Now, one more time. When did you begin betraying me to the Brotherhood?”

  The amulet glowed, but this time it wasn’t a futile effort to glamour him. No. Anya was frantically draining the stored magic to keep herself alive.

  “Not long after you realized you could sense their presence,” she grated.

  How many years had been wasted because of this bitch?

  How long had he been denied his fate?

  Anya would pay for each and every day she’d cost him.

  “You never intended for me to take my place as ruler.”

  “Of course I did,” she tried to plead. “I hoped that once you were truly committed to me—”

  “Ah. You wanted a puppet you could lead around by the cock,” he sliced through her words, understanding at last.

  Clearly Anya’s definition of love was beguiling a man until he was blinded by lust.

  She dug her nails into his wrists as her legs began to sag. He was keeping her on the edge of death and her body was only minutes from a total collapse.

  “And what about you?”

  He shrugged. “I prefer not to be the puppet of an overly ambitious bitch.”

  Any pretense of affection drained from the emerald eyes to reveal the bitter resentment that festered beneath the surface.

  “I meant that you’re no better than me,” she hissed. “You had no intention of making me your queen.”

  His laugh was mocking. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

  “An empty promise.” Her head fell back, her skin becoming a pasty white as her magic faltered and the full impact of her injuries took their toll. “You’re willing to sacrifice anyone, including your own family, to achieve your goals. I have never doubted for a second that I would be as easily destroyed once I was no longer any use to you.” She gave an agonized laugh, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. “I could only hope to make myself indispensable.”

  “Ah. No one is indispensable, Anya,” he taunted, his fingers tightening until her windpipe was crushed. “A pity.”

  With the last of her strength, she reached up to rake her nails down his cheek.

  “I’ll see you in hell,” she promised.

  Zak heard the sound of the door opening behind him, and the muttered curse as the intruder caught sight of him ruthlessly squeezing out the last of Anya’s life. But his gaze never shifted from the emerald eyes, a smile touching his lips as he savored her slow death.