“Laylah.”
She huffed a sigh at the edge of warning in his soft tone. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. My foster mother found me abandoned in the sewers of London.”
“So you don’t know anything about who they were?”
“It’s obvious one of my parents was a Jinn. The other…” With an effort she opened her eyes, pretending that his probing questions didn’t bother her. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Do you have powers beyond those of a Jinn?”
“Yeah right. As if I’d tell you.” Her eyes closed again, her expression fretful. “Please just go away and let me rest in peace.”
He gazed down at her delicate beauty, his brows drawn together in a scowl.
Why was he hesitating?
All he had to do was toss her over his shoulders and head for the caves the Commission had taken over south of Chicago. It would take him less than a few hours to be done with the task.
Best of all, he could stop by Santiago’s club on his way back to his lair and relieve his stress with a willing imp. Or ten.
The more the merrier.
Besides, he’d learned a brutal lesson in protecting a dangerous, unstable female.
A lesson that had led to his entire clan being slaughtered like helpless cattle.
Walking among their mangled bodies, he had sworn he would never again put his emotions ahead of his duty.
His fingers tightened on her cheek, then he muttered a curse and straightened.
“Do you eat human food?” he demanded.
“Yes.”
“Remain here.”
Without allowing himself the opportunity to consider the depths of his stupidity, Tane flowed through the darkness of the tunnels, swiftly finding an opening that led to the countryside above.
A swift glance revealed the recently planted fields and farmhouses that slumbered beneath the silver moonlight. In the distance he could catch a glimpse of the Mississippi River and even farther the pinpricks of street lights that revealed a small town.
The typical, sleepy landscape of the Midwest.
Too sleepy for most vampires, but Tane preferred the peace. A bitter smile twisted his lips. And most vampires preferred him to remain in his self-imposed isolation.
Few were comfortable in the presence of a Charon.
Not that Tane allowed their prejudice to bother him. He’d become an executioner of rogue vampires for a reason. And that reason hadn’t changed.
Would never change.
Almost as if to mock his assurance he was alone in the darkness, Tane stiffened and tested the late spring air. What the hell? There were vamps in the area.
Not that he was afraid. He possessed a greater power than most clan chiefs, although he refused to endure the trials necessary to claim the title. And there were few of his brothers stupid enough to annoy their Anasso. Styx would be severely pissed off to discover one of his precious Charons had been killed.
But he’d left Laylah alone and helpless in the tunnels.
He’d be damned if any other vampire was going to get his fangs, or anything else, in her.
With a blinding speed he was entering the nearest farmhouse, a two-story white home with a wraparound porch and gingham curtains.