“I can sense Jael above us,” he said. “But she might try to double back and escape out the front door. Stay here and keep a watch.”
Kaede nodded, moving to lean against the carved balustrade with his arms folded over his chest.
Nothing was getting past the onetime Sentinel.
Taking the steps two at a time, Bas swiftly reached the third floor of the club. He bypassed the closed doors, heading down the hall.
He’d just reached the end when the last door was yanked open and Jael stepped out of the room.
She was a small woman dressed in a low-cut red dress and wearing black fuck-me-now shoes. Her long, light brown hair was left free to frame her pixie face and her brown eyes remained hard even when she smiled.
Those cold eyes were the only hint that she was a female who possessed a sick love for giving pain to others.
“Going somewhere, witch?” he drawled.
“Bas.” She stretched her lips into a humorless smile. “What an unpleasant surprise.”
Lifting his hand, Bas shoved the witch back into the lavish black and gold bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He glanced around the room that was designed with whips and shackles on the walls instead of artwork and a table in one corner with a pile of sex toys.
No visible weapons or lurking companions.
He returned his attention to the female who was eyeing him with a defiant expression that didn’t entirely hide the terror that pulsed just below the surface.
The bitch hadn’t expected him to track her down.
Which only made this moment sweeter.
“I see the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated,” he said.
Without warning, Jael dropped the illusion she’d wrapped around herself to reveal that one side of her face was deeply scarred. The silvery spiderweb of damage could only have been caused by a deep, near lethal burn.
“Believe me, I spent weeks wishing I had died.” A vicious hatred abruptly smoldered in the dark eyes. “Not that you cared. Or even bothered to search for me.”
If Bas were a better man he might have felt sympathy. But he wasn’t, and all he felt was a cold, brutal fury that this woman had nearly destroyed his life.
“Your death was witnessed by a dozen people,” he said, not bothering to hide his indifference. “I had no reason to doubt their claim.”
Her face twisted with a bitterness that came from the very soul.
“Just admit the truth,” she spat out. “You didn’t care if I was dead or alive. As far as you’re concerned your ‘people’ are just tools you use to gain power.”
He couldn’t deny her accusation.
Hell, he didn’t want to deny her accusation.
He did his best to protect his people and make certain they all shared in the wealth. He even had a rare few he considered friends.
But his ultimate goal was always power.
No matter who he had to use to gain it.
“How did you survive?” he instead demanded.
Her hand lifted to touch the scars, the festering fury in her eyes tinged with madness.
“The Brotherhood captured me in my hotel room and set me on fire in the alley, but I had enough magic to survive the initial blaze.”
He grimaced. Being burned alive was a nasty way to die.
It had to have been an even worse hell to survive.
“But you escaped?” he asked, not because he actually wanted to know, but because he had to keep her distracted until Serra could find Molly.
“No. I was still tied to the stake, barely clinging to life, when one of the Brotherhood had the bright idea they could use me as a weapon.” She curled her lips as she flicked a practiced gaze of derision over him. She’d obviously spent a great deal of time considering what she would say to him if they were ever face-to-face. “You have a lot in common with them.”
He shrugged. “They held you hostage?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head so her hair slipped over her scarred face. “In the beginning I was too weak to try to escape. It took me months to heal. Then I remained because they had something I wanted.”
Bas frowned in confusion. Was she saying that she’d become a member of the Brotherhood?
“You became a traitor to your people?”
She gave a sharp, near hysterical laugh. “You of all people dare to call me a traitor? That would be amusing if it weren’t so predictable.” Her features twisted with a soul-deep loathing. “You really are the most arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”
Bas silently breathed a spell as the female spiraled toward a complete meltdown.
He didn’t have the magic of a true witch, but he had a few stun spells that could disable her long enough for him to snap her neck.
“What did you do for the Brotherhood?”
She glanced toward the whips that lined the walls. “The same thing I did for you. Pain, terror . . . torture.”
Bas grimaced. It offended him to think of her sharing her high-blood talents with a bunch of idiots who hoped to destroy them.
“Did you tell them about Anna?” he snapped.
She scowled. “Of course not.”
“Then they aren’t behind Molly’s kidnapping?”
“The Brotherhood?” She studied him as if he’d lost his mind. “They’re a bunch of bumbling idiots. They couldn’t plan their way out of their own asses.”
He agreed. But that didn’t answer his question.
“Then why did you stay with them?”
“Because they have excellent taste in illegal weapons.”
Ah. That explained where the weapons had come from, and why they’d traced back to the Brotherhood.
“You stole them.”
“Yes.” She trailed a red-lacquered fingernail along the edge of her plunging neckline. “I knew a large supply was coming in from Mexico so I waited until I had the exact dates and times. In the meantime I had Lee gathering us a small army of norms.”
“And kidnapped my daughter?”
She tilted her head to an aggressive angle. “Yes.”
He leaned down, the heat of his fury blasting through the air.
This twisted, bitter female had stolen a mere babe from her bed and used her as a bargaining chip.
That was nothing less than evil.
“Why?”
The madness in her eyes glittered in the muted light. “Because I’m done with being at the mercy of asshole men who think they can use and abandon me without consequences.” Tingles of magic began to fill the air as the woman teetered on the edge of sanity. “From now on I’m in charge.”
Bas’s gaze lowered to her neck, imagining the pleasure of wrapping his fingers around the slender length and squeezing.
“Being in charge means kidnapping innocent little girls from their beds?” he mocked in disgust.
“How else could I have gotten my hands on Anna?”
He narrowed his gaze. “Any number of ways.”
“True.” A malicious smile curved her lips. “I wanted to punish you and I knew that nothing would hurt you as much as losing your precious Molly.”
“Because I didn’t realize you hadn’t died in a fire?”
“For that.” She glanced toward the nearby bed. “And because you humiliated me in front of my friend. No man turns down the opportunity to become my lover.”
He clenched his teeth as her magic sliced wildly through the air, striking against his skin like a whip. He restrained his own power. He would only have one chance to strike before she could conjure a spell that might very well disable him.
“You’ve terrorized a mere baby because I pricked your vanity?”
The bitch had the nerve to look offended. “Molly is fine.”
He waved aside her assurance. In just a few minutes he intended to discover for himself if Molly was fine or not.
Surely Serra had to be getting close?
“What do you want with Anna?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.
 
; Once he had Molly safe he would have to find a way to return the dangerous high-blood to her protected cell.
Jael shrugged. “I want her to be who she was meant to be.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?”
The witch took a covert step toward the center of the room.
Bas frowned. Why?
Did she have some hidden trap she was trying to lure him into?
“You’ve tormented the poor woman long enough,” Jael said, taking another step.
Realization abruptly hit Bas. The witch was trying to inch her way toward the nearby table where a collection of bottles was lined against the wall. He’d bet among the oils and perfumes was at least one lethal potion.
“I’ve done nothing but protect her,” he said, shifting so he was blocking her path to the table.
Jael stiffened, but her brittle composure never faltered. “She’s been held in stasis for endless years,” she accused. As if she gave a shit about Anna or the limited life she was forced to endure. “Like Sleeping Beauty with no prince to waken her. Can you imagine the horror of that existence?”
Bas offered a taunting smile. “And you intend to waken her?”
The witch reached into the small handbag she was carrying, unaware that Bas had reached behind his back for his gun. She was a powerful high-blood so a bullet probably wouldn’t kill her, but it would hurt like a bitch.
“It’s already in process,” she said, pulling out a cell phone.
Bas frowned. “What do you mean?”
“My men called just an hour ago.” She gave a wave of the phone. “The wagon carrying Anna has broken down. I gave the word to start killing your witches.”
A chill inched down Bas’s spine. He might not be a hero. Hell, he was probably a villain. But the thought of the four young witches being butchered made him sick.
Not to mention the fact that Anna’s powers might even now be spreading through the land . . .
It was enough to make him wish the evil bitch had died on the stake.
“You’re going to release her powers?”
A feverish anticipation flared through the dark eyes. Just another glimpse of the madness seething just below the surface.
“She deserves to be free.”
“You don’t give a shit about Anna,” he said. “What do you hope to gain?”
She paused, as if considering a lie. Then, with a shrug, she gave him the blunt truth.
“Chaos. War. Destruction.”
Even expecting her answer, Bas was shocked. “Why?”
She stepped toward him, a snarl on her ravaged face. “Because I’ve discovered that I don’t particularly like this world,” she ground out. “I was abandoned by my own people and burned at the stake by norms. All of you deserve to suffer.”
Bas shook his head. He’d always known Jael wasn’t entirely stable. Not just because of her love for delivering pain, but her unpredictable mood swings.
Now it seemed she had also been harboring delusions of grandeur.
“And after the destruction?” he pressed.
“Then I rebuild. I’ll reconstruct a world where I’m in charge.” She said it with the blithe confidence of a true narcissist. “So I killed two birds with one stone. I kidnapped Molly to force you to bring Anna out of her hibernation—”
“Why did you have me take her across the country?” he interrupted.
“There’s the chance that the spreading devastation might be traced back to Anna,” she admitted. “If that happened I didn’t want any connection to the high-blood.”
Bas shook his head in self-disgust. He’d jumped through rings to try to protect his daughter, and it’d all been nothing but a game to stroke this woman’s damaged ego.
“You were never going to release Molly, were you?” he growled.
“Not as long as I was enjoying our game.” With a taunting smile she lifted her phone and swiftly pressed in a number. “But now you’ve violated the rules. It’s time to move to the next level.”
Molly. His heart stuttered to an agonizing halt.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my men to make sure they’ve gained control of Anna.”
Bas nearly went to his knees as relief blasted through him. Shit. He couldn’t stand much more.
He had to get rid of this crazy-ass female and get to his daughter.
Watching the growing frown on her face, he inwardly prepared to launch his spell.
“A problem?” he demanded as she shut her phone off with an angry stab of her finger.
Something that might have been fear briefly replaced the madness in her eyes.
“They’re in the middle of nowhere,” she muttered, trying to convince herself her egotistical scheme wasn’t falling apart. “They probably lost service.”
“More likely my witches killed them. Unlike you, I choose my employees with care.” He allowed his gaze to move up and down her body in a blatant insult. “Or at least, most of them.”
She shook her head, taking a step backward. “No. It’s not possible.”
She was going to crack. It was a matter of seconds.
He had to pray that Molly was safe.
“Now what, Jael?” His body tingled as he allowed his magic to race through his blood. “Your men are dead. Sandoval is dead. Do you have another game to play?”
She licked her lips. “I still have your daughter.”
“Are you so sure?”
Her eyes widened at his soft words. “What have you done?”
His smile was as cold as the Arctic. “You don’t think I was actually interested in your pathetic dreams of grandeur, do you?” he mocked. “I was keeping you distracted while my associates were retrieving my daughter.”
“Kaede is downstairs . . .” she began, only to have her words trail away as the realization that she’d been tricked slowly tightened her damaged features. “The psychic,” she breathed. “She was working with you.”
Bas lifted his hand, his magic sparking on the tips of his fingers.
“You’re not nearly so clever as you think you are.”
Manic hatred flashed through the dark eyes as she made a frantic leap toward the potions on the nearby table.
“I’m clever enough to make sure that I don’t die alone.”
Bas released his stun spell, knocking her to her knees. “You of all people, Jael, should know I never lose.”
“No.”
Thwarted of her potions, Jael raised her hand, preparing to launch a counter-spell.
Bas didn’t give her the opportunity. Ignoring the weapons strapped to his body, he grabbed the potion she’d intended for him and tossed it directly into her face.
She screamed, her back arching as that magic ravaged through her.
It was a particularly nasty potion. One brewed to destroy the internal organs.
Bas, however, didn’t stay to savor the destruction of his enemy.
The bitch would soon be dead.
All he cared about was wrapping his arms around his daughter.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Serra stared at the paneled wall with a frown of impatience.
“She’s behind this wall,” she muttered, clearly able to sense Molly just a few feet away.
They’d managed to search through the dark house without incident. Fane had taken care of any guards and the witch was clearly still occupied with Bas.
Or, if they had any luck at all, she was already dead.
Foolishly she’d started to hope that this would be a quick in and out.
Find Molly. Grab her. Leave.
Easy peasy.
Of course it couldn’t be easy. Or peasy.
She glared at the blank wall, tired of playing games with the damned kidnappers.
“There has to be a hidden door,” Fane said, slowly running his hands over the paneling.
Squashing her seething impatience, Serra moved to place her hands on the wall of the hallway. Fane was right. There had to be a way
to get into a secret room.
“I’ll search this side,” she said. Not that she knew what the hell she was searching for. All she could do was hope she could trip some lever and a hidden door would slide open. “I think—”
Her words came to an abrupt halt as there was a draft of air to her side and the muzzle of a gun was pressed to her temple.
“Don’t move,” a female voice commanded. “One twitch and I pull the trigger.”
Shit. Too late Serra realized a hidden door had indeed slid open. Only she hadn’t found a hidden lever.
The female norm had managed to catch her off guard.
Dammit.
Fane took a smooth step toward them, his expression stoic and his body relaxed.
At a glance it would be easy to believe he wasn’t particularly concerned that some strange woman was pressing a gun to Serra’s head.
Serra, however, was well aware that he’d retreated into warrior mode.
He was a predator poised to strike, patiently waiting for an opening that would allow him to kill with lightning speed.
Serra might have felt sorry for the woman who was about to die if the bitch wasn’t currently threatening to blow her brains out.
“Release her,” Fane commanded, his cold, flat tone more terrifying than any amount of shouting.
“I don’t think so.”
The woman moved closer to Serra. As if realizing the only reason she wasn’t dead was because Fane didn’t have a clear shot. Glancing covertly to her side Serra caught sight of a slender woman with shoulder-length hair dyed a deep black and pale, pale features. Her dark eyes that were framed by fake lashes were currently watching Fane with barely concealed terror.
“Who are you and what do you want?” the norm demanded.
Fane briefly allowed his attention to shift to Serra, his gaze silently asking her if she could use her psychic abilities to disable her enemy.
Serra paused, allowing her mind to gently touch the female at her side. She had naturally stronger shields than most norms, and perhaps a trace of magic, which no doubt had attracted the attention of Jael, but she was no match for Serra’s powers.
She gave a discreet nod.
Fane stepped forward, deliberately holding the female’s attention as Serra prepared to attack.
“We’re here for Molly,” he said.