Now he accepted that he could never put his potential mate in danger.
Not if there was the slightest risk he could be forced to lose control.
“Besides, I thought the beast was amusing himself,” he continued with a shrug. “Like a cat with a trapped mouse. It wasn’t until days later that I realized he’d given my powers a dose of steroids.”
The silver eyes shimmered with anger. “And it didn’t occur to you that the Jinn’s mark might compel you to carry out his mysterious revenge?”
“Of course.” Uriel reached into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a wooden box no larger than his thumbnail. “That’s why I carry this.”
Victor hissed at the unmistakable symbol branded into the wood.
“A thana hex.”
Uriel nodded. It was a rare hex that could only be performed by imps with royal blood running through their veins.
The damned thing had taken him years to track down and cost over half his fortune to purchase, but it had been well worth the trouble.
One flip of the lid and he would be dead.
Quick, easy, and supposedly painless.
“Death in a box,” he said, returning the hex to his pocket. “If I ever feel myself being forced against my will I can end it before any damage can be done.”
There was the sound of approaching footsteps from the hallway and with a scowl Victor crossed to meet the young vampire at the door who handed him a cell phone. The conversation was brief, but the clan chief’s temper didn’t seem to be improved as he shoved the phone back into the servant’s hand and turned to glare at Uriel.
“I don’t have time to finish this conversation, but believe me, my brother, it’s not over.”
“Brilliant,” Uriel muttered.