“Good.”
He paused, knowing they might be safe for the moment, but eventually someone was going to find them. He needed her to leave him behind so she could escape, but how could he trust she wouldn’t do something foolish to hurt herself? He would obviously have to take advantage of her soft heart. “Myst, I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
He chose his words with care. “I need you to go to Valhalla for help.”
She was shaking her head before he even finished. “No.”
“Myst—”
“I knew you were going to be stupidly heroic and tell me I should take off and leave you behind,” she interrupted.
He gave a startled laugh, genuinely amused by her accusation.
“You should know I’ve never, ever been accused of being a hero,” he assured her in dry tones.
“Then why do you keep rescuing me?” she demanded.
He gave her curls a light tug, savoring the sensation of lying with her in his arms. It didn’t matter that they were on a hard floor in a filthy stall. Or that he was desperately trying to convince her to leave before she could be captured.
Just for a few seconds he could absorb her warmth, breathing deep of her honeysuckle scent.
“I think this time you were the one to save me,” he reminded her in soft tones.
She narrowed her dark eyes. “Why does it bother you to admit you can be a good guy?”
He leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “Because the villain is much more interesting.”
“Fine.” Her fingers trailed down his throat in an unconsciously intimate gesture. “Be the villain if you want, but I’m not leaving you here.”
Stubborn female.
“Myst, you know they’re still out there hunting for you,” he ruthlessly reminded her. “It’s only a matter of time before they return.”
She refused to budge. “Then we hide. Trust me, none of them are overly eager to come up against a Sentinel.”
His heart twisted with fear. Christ. Why couldn’t she do as he wanted just once?
“I get that you’re worried about returning to Valhalla, but imagine how much worse it will be if you’re captured by the Brotherhood,” he pointed out in grim tones.
She ignored his warning. “Would you leave me if I was injured?”
“If it was necessary,” he smoothly retorted.
Her fingers slid into his hair, giving the strands a painful tug.
“And you call me a rotten liar,” she chided. “You’re worse than I am.”
“Bullshit,” he muttered, the pain starting to make his thoughts fuzzy and his words slurred. “I’m a highly accomplished liar who has made millions of dollars on my ability to deceive others.”
“I’m not leaving,” she insisted.
“Myst.”
“No.” She inched closer, shivering as if she was cold despite the fact it was a hundred degrees in the barn. “We’ll wait until dark and then find a vehicle to get out of here.”
He swallowed a resigned sigh. He was too weak to force her to go. And besides, there was a needy, illogical part of him that desperately wanted her near.
He told himself it was a reaction to his fear that she might do something incredibly stupid. How could he know she wouldn’t decide to take her own life? She was convinced, after all, that was the only way to alter the future.
But he knew it went deeper than that.
Since her unexpected arrival in Kansas City, he’d developed a growing terror of her disappearing.
She’d left once and he hadn’t been able to find her, despite his considerable skills and resources. She could do it again if she wanted.
Just . . . poof. And he’d be helpless to track her down.
He needed to find some way to bind her to him so she could never disappear again.
Pulling her tight against his body, he rested his cheek against the top of her head.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured.
Her warm breath brushed his throat. “I’m not much of a hero, either,” she muttered.
“Not true,” he instantly argued, quite certain she had more courage packed into her tiny body than most Sentinels. “You’ve been incredibly brave, cara.”
“Not hardly.” She shook her head. “I’m scared out of my mind.”
His fingers stroked through the satin of her hair, something deep inside him locking into place as she burrowed closer, in need of comfort.
“You risked your life to save me,” he pointed out in low tones. “You sacrificed your heart to protect your daughter. And you’ve devoted your life to trying to alter fate.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You astonish me.”
She tensed, as if caught off guard by his words. Slowly she tilted back her head to meet his steady gaze.
“I didn’t always astonish you,” she murmured.
He heaved a faint sigh. He’d spent four years telling himself that this woman was a flighty, irresponsible female who wasn’t worthy of being Molly’s mother. But he’d never, ever managed to erase her from his life.
She’d haunted his dreams and destroyed any hope of him finding another woman to stir his interest.
“You did,” he assured her. “I just didn’t want to admit it.”
There was a short silence before she at last asked the question that’d no doubt been bothering her since their encounter with Boggs.
“Why do you have my locket?”
“I found it after you disappeared,” he said.
He didn’t add that it’d fallen out of one of the cushions of the couch when he’d picked it up to toss it across the room. He’d been so consumed with frustration when he’d been unable to track her that he’d nearly destroyed his entire office.
“And you kept it?” she pressed.
“At first I assumed you would return, and I intended to give it back to you,” he said.
Her lips twitched. “You thought you were so irresistible I couldn’t stay away?”
He arched an arrogant brow. “Of course.”
She rolled her eyes. “Good Lord.”
He chuckled. It hadn’t just been because he thought he was irresistible, although he couldn’t deny he’d always had success with women. But the passion that’d exploded between them had been so intense he truly hadn’t thought anyone would willingly walk away from such pleasure.
“Later I kept it because I hoped it would help me locate you,” he continued.
She wrinkled her nose. “I had no idea you would remember our . . .” She blushed as she tried to think of a word to describe their afternoon of searing hot, balls-to-the-wall sex. “Encounter, let alone search for me.”
“I remembered. Even when I tried to erase you from my mind,” he growled. “Then you brought Molly to me and I told myself I kept the locket so I could give it to her when she was older.”
Her fingers skimmed down the back of his neck. “See, you are a good guy.”
“No.” It wasn’t just his instinctive aversion to playing the role of hero that made him deny her claim. It might be cheesy as hell, but he wanted this female to believe he could be her knight in shining armor. But she deserved the truth. “None of those were the real reason.”
Her brows tugged together. “Then what was?”
“Whenever I touched the locket I had a vivid memory of you stretched beneath me wearing the necklace and nothing else,” he admitted with blunt honesty.
She made a choked sound. “Bas.”
His lips skimmed down the length of her nose, his mind easily conjuring up the delectable image. A damned shame he was too injured to actually have a repeat performance.
“You asked.”
“I suppose I did.” She smiled with wry humor.
His lips brushed over her mouth. “Do you want it back?”
She considered for a minute before giving a shake of her head.
“No.” Her lashes lowered, hiding her eyes. “I like the thought of you giving it
to Molly.”
He stilled, lifting his head to study her pale face. He wasn’t fooled by her deliberately light tone. She wanted him to keep the locket because she hadn’t yet given up her fear that she might have to end her life.
With an effort, he bit back his angry words.
It was a waste of his dwindling strength to try and convince her there was no way in hell that was going to happen.
She’d eventually accept he wasn’t letting her go.
“Does the necklace hold some meaning for you?” he instead demanded.
She hesitated, and for a long moment he thought she might refuse to answer his question. Was she still trying to keep barriers between them?
Or was the memory a painful one?
“Yes,” she at last said, her voice so low he could barely catch the words. “After I managed to escape from the Brotherhood compound, I hitchhiked my way to Casper. I didn’t have any money and I was starving, so I snuck into a truck stop and tried to steal a donut.”
His heat blasted through the air. He was going to take great pleasure in exterminating each and every Brother who’d been responsible for holding Myst hostage. Then he was tracking down her family.
But sensing her beginning to pull away, he fiercely leashed his fury.
This was a rare opportunity to learn about this elusive female. He wasn’t going to blow it with his primitive hunger for revenge.
With an effort he managed to force a teasing smile to his lips. “You were starving and you stole a donut?”
She relaxed back into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder.
“They had sprinkles.”
“Well, that would explain it,” he murmured.
“Anyway, I barely got it shoved in my pocket when a large woman grabbed me by my ponytail and locked me into the storage closet,” she continued. “At first I thought she’d called the cops.”
His fingers ran a soothing path down her back, his cheek resting against the top of her head.
“You must have been terrified.”
“Not really,” she surprised him by saying. “Jail couldn’t be any worse than living on the street. My only fear was that the Brotherhood would find me before I could escape.”
His jaws clenched. God. Damn. One day he was going to destroy those bastards.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“After Ella’s shift was over, she forced me into the diner next door and fed me. Then she took me to her cramped apartment and let me sleep on her couch.” Her voice softened with an unmistakable hint of fondness. “I stayed there for almost a month before I knew I had to move on.”
“Ella was a rare woman,” he said, feeling a deep sense of debt toward the human who’d taken in a stray girl whom most would have turned over to the authorities.
Without her, who knew what might have happened to Myst?
“She was,” Myst agreed. “When I asked her why she’d been so nice to me, she told me her daughter had run away when she was just fifteen. She hoped that someone had taken her in and kept her warm when she needed it.”
Ah. There were few things more powerful than a mother’s love for her daughter.
As Myst had proven when she’d left Molly with Bas despite the fact it’d clearly destroyed her heart.
And his own mother . . . A wistful smile touched his lips at the memory of the woman who’d been willing to sacrifice everything for him. She’d been a poor, uneducated peasant who’d been beaten by her husband and browbeaten by the local priest. Who would have blamed her if she’d simply given in to their claim that her child was a demon?
Instead she risked everything to save him.
“And the locket?” he asked.
“It belonged to her daughter,” Myst said. “She wanted me to have it. She said it would remind me that there was someone out there who cared.” She tilted back her head to reveal her wistful expression. “She was the first person who ever said that to me.”
His palm gently cupped her cheek. How was it possible that a female who’d been neglected and abused could still be so capable of such love and devotion?
“Did you ever go back?”
“No.” Her nose wrinkled with regret. “She was too intelligent not to notice I hadn’t aged.”
Ah. She hadn’t wanted the older woman to realize she was a high-blood. No doubt a smart decision. If Ella had started blabbing about having a freak in her home it might very well have attracted the attention of the Brotherhood.
Still, Bas didn’t believe for a minute that Myst had just walked away without trying to do something to keep in contact with the woman who’d offered her such kindness.
“But?” he prodded.
Her eyes narrowed, before she gave a reluctant laugh, accepting he knew her better than she expected.
“But I send her a Christmas card each year with a little money,” she admitted. “Ella wanted to hire a private investigator to find her daughter but they charged more than she could afford.”
Bas blinked, struggling to focus on Myst’s face. Dammit. His body was failing in his efforts to heal his injuries. Soon he would lose consciousness.
He struggled to make his lips move. “Myst.”
“Bas?” Her eyes widened as she caught sight of his grim expression. Abruptly she sat upright. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fading,” he said, his words slurred. “If I don’t wake within an hour promise me you’ll leave me and go to Valhalla.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Dammit. I . . .”
His words failed, his lashes drooping as the darkness rose up to claim him. He was going under. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it.
He thought he felt Myst move, her lips brushing gently over his cheek before she was whispering in his ear.
“I’m sorry.”
But then again, it could easily have been nothing more than a hallucination. God knew he’d conjured up enough fantasies about Myst over the years.
* * *
Lana used her private elevator to travel the nine levels beneath the public rooms of Valhalla to the headquarters of the Sentinels.
She bypassed the long communal room that was made of stainless steel and lined with high-tech computer systems and monitors directly linked in to a variety of satellites that kept constant surveillance.
Instead, she directly entered the Office of the Tagos.
Not surprisingly, the private room was a precise reflection of the current leader of the Sentinels.
Sleek. Sparse. Ruthlessly male.
Stepping out of the elevator, her gaze skimmed over the large walnut desk and two black leather chairs, and the ivory-painted walls decorated with a collection of priceless samurai swords.
Wolfe might have taken on the role of leader, but he’d always be a warrior at heart.
Her gaze shifted to the dark-haired male who was wearing a casual T-shirt and black jeans. Relief jolted through her as she relished the knowledge he was unharmed.
She’d understood his need to take charge of the assault on the Brotherhood compound, but that hadn’t made the waiting any easier.
Now she allowed herself a rare moment just to appreciate the sight of his lean, chiseled body and stunningly beautiful face.
At last sensing her entrance, Wolfe turned his attention from the bank of monitors he was arranging on a narrow table shoved against the far wall.
“Lana,” he murmured, watching as she crossed the wooden floor to stand at his side.
Instantly she was enfolded in his sizzling heat, the scent of raw male power teasing at her senses. Dear . . . heavens. With an effort, she forced herself to concentrate on the screens that displayed images of their prisoners who now filled the dungeons of Valhalla.
“Any casualties?” she asked, pretending she didn’t notice Wolfe’s lingering gaze that took in her jade sweater with a deeply scooped neckline and black leggings that clung faithfully to her slender curves.
How else could she
deny the fact that she’d deliberately chosen the clothes to attract his attention?
“No Sentinels injured,” he at last murmured, his slender hand waving toward one of the monitors that showed a dozen Brothers chained to beds in the infirmary. “There were a few idiots who tried to resist, but they were easily convinced to surrender.” He abruptly grimaced. “Unfortunately, when we found the clairvoyant he had a bullet in his head.”
Lana clenched her hands. Damn. She’d been counting on a long, highly informative meeting with the traitor. Not only to discover if he’d had a vision of the weapon that Myst was supposed to create, but to gain some insight into the inner workings of the Brotherhood.
So far they were playing catch-up with the mysterious cult.
The scribes were attempting to collect any historical references, while Wolfe’s Sentinels were doing their best to infiltrate the group. But until they knew names, locations, and the various plots to destroy Valhalla, her people were at risk.
An unacceptable situation.
“Suicide?” she demanded.
Wolfe gave a shake of his head. “I would guess the female did it.”
Lana arched a brow. “Why?”
He leaned against the edge of the table, folding his arms over his chest. Her mouth went dry at the sight of the thin material of his shirt stretched tight over his hard muscles.
“Maybe she realized her compound was compromised and she didn’t want him sharing secrets,” he murmured.
She sternly forced herself to focus on his low words. “You don’t sound convinced.”
He shrugged. “If she knew we were there, why didn’t she try to escape?” he pointed out. “Instead she took the time to kill the clairvoyant and then waited for us to show up in her bedroom.” He glanced over his shoulder at the monitor that revealed a pretty woman sitting alone in a narrow room. “Hell, it looked like she’d just put on fresh lipstick.”
Lana studied the leader of the Brotherhood.
She was younger than she’d expected her to be. But then Lana leaned closer, noticing the pretty heart-shaped face that was framed by long auburn hair and enchanting blue eyes. Her voluptuous curves were boldly displayed and her wide lips set in a sulky pout.