by Kate Baxter
She brought up her hand to rest on Ewan’s back. He flinched at the contact but she didn’t shy away. His breaths were heavy, pulsing in and out of his lungs and through his nostrils as though he fought to control his rising temper. He could be truly terrifying when he wanted to be and though some part of Sasha knew he would die before ever hurting her, it was Saeed she feared for in this moment. He could easily turn the location of their coven over to Gregor. An ambush would be devastating.
His muscles tensed beneath her palm. He was unyielding marble, chiseled and smoothed to perfection. “When he returned with Cerys, I knew that everything he’d told me was true. I wasn’t his and he wasn’t mine. Our souls were never meant for one another. I’d been devoted to him for so long. Doted upon him. Worshipped him. Respected him. I’d done everything he’d ever asked of me without question or complaint. I gave up my life for him. I became a vampire for him. Centuries wasted. A lifetime forfeit. I needed to reclaim myself and heal my heart. And so, I went out looking for life. And that’s when I found you.”
Ewan turned toward her. His brow furrowed as his gaze searched her face. He had to know the truth of her words. And whereas she admitted her love for Saeed, she could not in turn, admit her affection for Ewan. She’d fallen victim to the weakness of love and she wouldn’t let it happen again.
“What is your purpose within his coven?” He steered the conversation away from emotions and Sasha wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. “What made you valuable to him?”
“I was head of security up until the time he turned me.” Her voice fell. “After that, I became more of a diplomat.”
Ewan studied her. “You were a warrior?”
Of course that’s the conclusion he’d come to. “Not really. At least, not in the way you might think. My father was a warrior and a strategist. He had no sons. He taught me how to fight and that my mind could be as effective a weapon as a sword. Saeed served under my father during the wars. He was a famed assassin and deadlier than any dhampir I’d ever met. I studied hard, trained even harder, in order to impress him. I saved his life.” She looked away as a pang of regret shot through her chest. “Only the two of us know that.” She turned back to look at Ewan. “Three of us now.”
“How?”
Ewan’s focus was unwavering and Sasha squirmed under the scrutiny. Opening up to him felt like a betrayal of everything she was and had been. She never should have mentioned saving Saeed’s life.
Sasha tucked her legs up against her body and hugged her arms around her legs. The darkness that surrounded her made telling the story a little easier. Comforting somehow. “We were losing momentum.” She refused to look at Ewan, to see in the dark emptiness of his eyes, a reflection of the horror the vampire and dhampir races had endured. “The berserkers weren’t limited to fighting only at night and it was up to the dhampir forces to hold them back in the daylight hours. We weren’t as strong. Or fast. We healed too slowly and drinking blood only did so much.”
Reliving these memories merely served to remind Sasha that Ewan was the enemy. He’d admitted without an ounce of guilt to Saeed the night before that he’d killed countless vampires during the Sortiari’s attempt to wipe the vampires from the face of the earth. It made being here with him even stranger and the tether that bound them seem even more impossible. Gods. They were mortal enemies. Sworn to kill one another.
Ewan didn’t speak. Sasha was still too afraid to look at him, to try and gauge his mood or thoughts by the expression on his face. His scent was clean, masculine, without even a hint of anxiety or anger. Did that mean it didn’t bother him to hear talk of the wars from her perspective? Or that perhaps he had no remorse over the part he’d played in it.
“Before sunrise, my father told me not to leave the stronghold. He didn’t want me on the battlefield. There was no one to protect me and we were weak. I promised him I wouldn’t go but…”
“Saeed left to fight.” Ewan finished the thought for her and the dark undertone of his words sent a shiver over Sasha’s skin. “And you were concerned for his safety.”
Her chest ached with the admission. “Yes. I found him not far from the stronghold. Berserker forces were advancing and gaining ground. My father—all of the other vampires inside the keep—were put down by the sun and vulnerable. Saeed refused to let anyone die. He was the most honorable male I’d ever known. Brave. Caring. His sense of duty astounded me. If we lost him, I was sure we’d lose everyone. I couldn’t leave him unprotected.”
“He must be quite a male to have someone so fiercely loyal at his back.” Ewan’s tone left a tannic taste in her mouth. “We should all be so lucky.”
Sasha wasn’t going to sugarcoat any of this for him. He’d asked about her feelings for Saeed and he was going to get an honest answer. If he didn’t like what he heard, then that was just too damned bad.
“They should have retreated,” she continued. “But Saeed has always been stubborn and pressed on. He was surrounded by three warlords and losing momentum in the fight. They would have killed him if I hadn’t intervened. It was easy. They were focused on killing him. He was the biggest threat on the field. If they took him out, the stronghold would fall before sundown. I beheaded the first with my sword before he even realized I was behind him. The second was prepared for me and his strength overpowered me. But together Saeed and I managed to kill the two that remained. After that, we retreated and waited behind the safety of the wall until nightfall.”
“What city was this?” Ewan’s voice tightened with his words.
“Kiev.” It was the last vampire city in what was then Russia to fall before the coven retreated into Europe.
He let out a caustic bark of laughter. “I was on that battlefield.”
Sasha let out a breath. Gods.
Fate truly was an astounding force. Had Ewan been one of the warlords to attack Saeed, she might have killed him and her soul wouldn’t be tethered now. Of course, she’d seen Ewan fight. The more likely outcome would have been her death. And probably Saeed’s as well. Fate had seen fit to spare them all that day and Sasha marveled at its foresight. The Sortiari were fools to think they could bridle and steer something so out of their control. So misguided in their efforts to set things right.
“Do you love him still?” Ewan’s voice quieted to a dangerous simmer that was far more menacing than a shout.
Sasha waited a beat too long to reply. “No.”
“Are you sure about that?”
His doubtful tone convinced her to turn to face him. Ewan’s grim countenance sent a shiver of dread down Sasha’s spine. He was as deadly a creature as she’d ever laid eyes on. Why did it matter what she did or didn’t feel for Saeed? Ewan had made no promises to her. No proclamations of love. He considered her property and nothing more. A toy he wasn’t willing to share.
He pushed himself up from the bed and began to dress. Sasha’s heartbeat picked up its rhythm in her chest and she took several breaths to try and calm the hell down. She couldn’t keep up with his sudden mood swings. At one second passionate, and the next agitated. Calm and almost gentle and then stoic and brutal. She could do nothing but sit there in stunned silence and watch him throw on his clothes. She knew better than to try and understand his mood, his reason for leaving, or anything else. Gods, why did she even bother with him? Each day spent together became more difficult to handle. She was so over the drama.
“Remember what I said, Sasha.” Ewan tied the strings of his boots and headed toward the door. “You are mine. And anyone who thinks to challenge that will die by my hand.”
Like she’d seen him do one too many times already, Ewan strode from the bedroom with an angry, purposeful stride. Sasha listened as the apartment door opened and she flinched as it slammed shut.
Tears pricked at her eyes but she willed those traitorous bastards to dry. She wouldn’t shed a single tear over Ewan Brún or any other male ever again.
She was worth more than her tears.
; CHAPTER
23
It might have seemed that Christian had “found” Siobhan, but the fact of the matter was, she let him find her. He had no idea where her coven was located and she always seemed to magically pop up in certain downtown clubs when he happened to be there. The one time she’d summoned him, that bastard Carrig had found him in a private, high-stakes poker game. Not exactly out in the public eye. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she’d found him first and had been keeping an eye on him for a long damned time. He was sick and tired of having to visit every club in the city when he needed to see her. And at the same time, he admired her ability to keep herself—and her coven—protected.
He wanted to talk to her before he went to McAlister with the bits and pieces of information he’d managed to collect. He couldn’t explain it, but before he moved forward, he needed her counsel. And in the process, he hoped to arm her with a little information.
He tilted his head up at the black neon sign of Onyx. It was his last stop of the night. If she wasn’t here, he had no idea where else to look.
“See something interesting up there, werewolf?”
Christian pursed his lips. The soft, sensual purr of her voice sent a lick of heat down his spine. At the same time, his wolf gave a disapproving growl in the recess of his psyche. He was supposed to be the predator, and always with Siobhan he felt more like prey.
His wolf was not amused.
“Where’d you come from?” Annoyance bled into his tone.
She stepped up beside him, shoulder to shoulder. Well, shoulder to upper arm. She was a good eight inches shorter than he was but her personality and sheer bravery made up for what she lacked in height. Christian took a deep breath of jasmine and held it in his lungs. The lights of the surrounding businesses reflected off the nearly blue-black locks of her hair. He focused his gaze straight ahead once more as he resisted the urge to get a good, long eyeful.
“Does it matter where I came from?” Her voice was like a caress. “I’m here now.”
Yes she was. Christian’s wolf stirred once again, its agitation slowly transforming to possessive lust. The stubborn animal believed Siobhan belonged to them. Christian believed the animal was an idiot.
“You know, Siobhan, you have a habit of showing up at just the right moment.”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Is that a bad thing?”
Christian returned her glance. “I’m not sure yet.”
One corner of her mouth hitched in a sensual half smile. “So … are we going in or do you want to take this little tête-à-tête somewhere else?”
Christian swallowed down a groan. His mind raced with the many options presented by the implication of her words. He wanted to be alone with her, but if that were to happen, they sure as hell wouldn’t be talking. Christian glanced over his shoulder at the tiny dive bar across the street. There couldn’t be more than ten or fifteen people inside. It seemed like a good compromise.
He jerked his chin as he turned. “Let’s go over there.”
Siobhan’s eyebrow cocked. “Over there?”
He grinned. “What’s the matter? Too low-rent for you?”
Her ruby-red lips pursed and Christian’s eyes were drawn to the lush display. “Not at all.” She turned and fell into step beside him. “Should be fun.”
They waited for a break in traffic and crossed the street toward the bar. The sign read, Ray’s, and looked like the sort of place that catered to day-drinkers. Christian had found himself in places just like Ray’s more times than he could count. It was the perfect place to not feel so gods-damned bad about himself. Misery loved company after all. Christian didn’t have to feel guilty about not trying to be a better male if he hung out in places steeped in failure and despair.
So basically, he’d be right at home.
“Where’s your bodyguard?”
Siobhan smiled. “Carrig? He’s close.”
Of course he was. Bastard. “You always have a backup plan, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” Christian opened the door for Siobhan and she flashed a dazzling smile as she walked past him. “Don’t you?”
He tried to. But he was beginning to believe that no one planned better than Siobhan. “Sometimes. I’m not hiding from anyone like you are, though.”
Siobhan bristled. She strode past the bar and found a secluded booth at the back of the building. Christian stayed a few steps behind her, too mesmerized by the sway of her hips to do anything other than stare. She slid into the booth, giving Christian plenty of room to join her.
“Maybe not, but you’re still looking over your shoulder.”
Wasn’t that the fucking truth? When you played both sides against the middle with the sort of heavy-hitters Christian was mixed up with, he had no choice but to look over his shoulder. Siobhan had never outright admitted she was the dhampir Gregor was looking for, but the more comfortable she became with Christian, the more she gave away. The tiniest of tells that left a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow.
He needed her to trust him. To open up to him. But she was a wary, cornered animal. She wouldn’t roll over and show her belly. If she felt even a little threatened, she’d fight. Christian had no idea how to deal with her. She was an enigma.
“Gregor’s up to something.” Siobhan might have liked to play games, but Christian didn’t. He cut to the chase rather than engage in their usual banter.
“Can I get you two a drink?”
Christian turned his attention to the cocktail waitress. This place had speedier service than some of the dives he was used to. He was running low on cash after losing a few thousand on a Barcelona match last week. That’d teach him to ever bet against Messi again. Besides, it’s not like he’d find any top-shelf shit here. He’d just have to suck it up and drink shitty liquor.
“Bourbon, neat.”
The cocktail waitress turned to Siobhan. “And for you?”
She leveled her gaze, expression bored. “Same.”
Gods, she was an intimidating female. It totally turned him on. Siobhan’s lack of congeniality sent the waitress back to the bar without an ounce of small talk. She focused her emerald green eyes on Christian and her full lips parted to reveal the delicate points of her fangs. “Why do you think I care?”
Time to switch tactics. No games. Time for a healthy dose of honesty. “I don’t. I want your opinion before I go to Trenton McAlister with what I know.”
Her eyes narrowed and her countenance grew serious. “You want my opinion?”
Wow. If he’d known all it would take to stop her in her tracks was to value her input, he would have asked for her opinion a long damned time ago. “Yes. You know more about Gregor than I do. You know what makes him tick. What fuels him.” She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. “Don’t try to deny it. I tracked him to where he and his loyal troops have set up camp. He’s got a prisoner.” Siobhan leaned in, almost indiscernibly, and her brow furrowed. Yes! He’d hooked her. “A mage.”
She jerked back. Stunned. Christian had never seen the self-possessed dhampir so thrown off her game. This was big. She knew something and it was fucking ominous. Had to be.
“A mage?” She brought her voice down to a murmur. “You’re certain?”
A tremor of anxious energy skittered down Christian’s spine. His wolf gave a low warning growl in his psyche and willed the animal to still. There was no use getting bent out of shape until he knew exactly what was going on. And honestly, he didn’t have much faith that Siobhan would fill in many of the blanks.
“There’s something not right about him, too.” The waitress came back with their drinks and he slid his credit card across the table. “Start a tab.”
“No.” Siobhan slid his card back to him and replaced it with two twenties. “We’re one and done tonight.” She fixed her stern gaze on the waitress. “And we’d like some privacy.”
The waitress scooped up the twenties and straightened. “Can do.�
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Shit was getting real. This was a side of Siobhan he’d never seen before. Serious. Down to business. Intense. Maybe he’d stumbled on something more important than he’d first thought. If so, McAlister was going to owe him a shitload more than some cash.
Christian was prepared to negotiate for his freedom.
* * *
Had Gregor actually found the mage who’d bound McAlister’s power? Siobhan was so stunned, a feather could’ve knocked her over right now. Christian was smarter than she gave him credit for, something she needed to keep in mind for the future. There couldn’t be many creatures privy to the secret. McAlister would’ve made sure to kill anyone who knew his weakness. She was sure Christian didn’t realize the precarious position he’d just put himself in.
“I broke into the apartment building. The mage was in the next room and I overheard their conversation.”
Berserkers could smell an enemy from miles away. “How did you manage that?”
“I bought a tincture from a witch that masked my scent.”
Clever wolf. Siobhan wondered what other surprises Christian had up his sleeve. “What did they say?”
“Nothing that made a lot of sense.”
Christian sipped from the edge of his glass and Siobhan’s attention was drawn to his mouth as she remembered the delicious sensation of his lips against hers. Now wasn’t the time for that sort of distraction, however. She needed to focus and find out everything he knew.
“They talked about a vampire named Saeed and his lover. But I got the impression she was something more. Maybe even his mate. Gregor was in Seattle and apparently some shit went down while he was up there. Saeed’s female has something to do with the mage. Rin is his name. Rin wants some hard-core retribution against Saeed’s supposed mate, and Gregor for something she did to him. From the way he made it sound, she’d destroyed his soul.”