“You were genetically altered, si.”
“And my sisters? Are they out producing the children you’re so desperate to have?”
“Regan was unfortunately barren, although it hardly matters since she was busy falling in love with a leech the last time I saw her. And Darcy…” Salvatore grimaced. “She was a disappointment as well.”
“Why?”
“She had the same pathetic taste for the living challenged.”
Her brows lifted. “I assume you mean a vampire?”
“Not just any vampire.” There was an edge to his voice. That happened a lot when the walking dead entered the conversation. “She mated with the Anasso, King of Vampires. May his cold soul rot in hell.”
Harley paced the cement floor, her expression distracted as she pondered his words.
“Darcy.” She softly tested the name. “Regan.”
“They are very much alive and anxious to meet you.”
She continued pacing, refusing to meet his gaze. “Caine said there were four of us.”
“There’s another sister who I haven’t yet found. I suspect Caine knows where she is.”
She halted unconsciously close to the cage, her eyes troubled as she shook her head.
“No. I don’t believe you.”
Salvatore was a Were who firmly believed in grasping opportunity. Especially when that opportunity included a gorgeous female who set his blood on fire.
“Then believe this.” He reached through the bars, grabbing the straps of her sports bra and yanking her close enough to kiss her. A groan rumbled deep in his throat. She tasted of exotic spices and danger. He shivered as wild lightning streaked through him. “You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips.
For a breathless minute she softened against him, seemingly as indifferent as Salvatore to the painful silver between them. Then with a muttered curse, she pulled away, her eyes dark with alarm.
“Caine’s right. You’re a lunatic.”
With a glare that would have seared the skin off a lesser man, Harley stormed from the room and slammed the door behind her.
Lunatic.
Salvatore shoved his fingers through his hair.
He couldn’t agree more.
Harley reached the top of the stairs when Caine appeared in the hallway, a pair of faded denims riding low on his hips, his hair still damp from the shower.
“I heard the alarm.” His eyes darted to the door she’d just closed behind her. “What the hell is going on?”
Harley blocked the door, her emotions in an unpleasant jumble. And all because of that stupid Were.
Wasn’t it bad enough that he’d managed to make her question everything that Caine had ever told her? Not that she had ever been fully on board with Caine’s smooth stories. They had changed too often over the years to be completely believable.
But to use his kingly mojo or whatever it was to make her melt beneath his kiss.
It was despicable.
She lifted a hand and pressed it to her lips. They still tingled with pleasure. And they weren’t the only thing tingling.
It had to be that damned musky smell of his. It was some sort of Were aphrodisiac or something.