Blood Lust - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,58

appeared without warning.

It’d frankly never occurred to her that those spontaneous manifestations were caused by the magic of another high-blood.

“A catalyst.” She tested the word, feeling it settle inside her with a sense of rightness.

“It would explain a number of mysteries,” Calder said.

“Yes,” she slowly agreed. “I suppose it would.”

“I would like to use Molly in a few experiments—”

“Absolutely not.” Lana nipped her companion’s suggestion in the bud.

He might be the Master of Gifts, but there was no way in hell he was going to use Molly to discover if his hypothesis was possible or not.

Frustration tightened his sharp features. “I assure you they won’t put her in any danger.”

“No.” Lana squared her shoulders, her magic filling the air with enough force to send papers and books tumbling to the floor. “Molly is separated from her parents and surrounded by strangers. She will be treated as a cherished guest during her stay at Valhalla, not a guinea pig in a lab.”

“I . . .” Despite his frenzied need for answers, Calder was able to sense that now wasn’t the time to press her. He instead grimaced before giving a nod of his head. “Yes, Mave.”

Her point made, Lana turned and headed toward the door. “Please let me know if you learn anything new about Peter Baldwin.”

Chapter Twelve

With a growl of fury, Stella hurled her cell phone across her bedroom. It cracked in half before falling to the floor with a satisfying thud.

She was cursed.

There was no other reason.

How else did you explain such a total clusterfuck?

She’d planned for weeks. She’d spent thousands of dollars. She’d promised her followers they were on the brink of greatness.

And when she’d crawled into bed, it’d appeared her shitty luck was about to turn. They had the clairvoyant, and soon she would give them the weapon that was going to destroy Valhalla.

Now...

Wearing nothing more than a silky camisole top and matching shorts, she reached to flip on a nearby lamp even as there was the sound of hurried footsteps. Seconds later the connecting door was shoved open and Peter stepped into the room, his pudgy face creased with worry.

“What’s wrong?”

Stella glared at her unwelcome intruder, her lips curling at the sight of his flabby, pasty white body revealed by the boxer shorts.

Christ. Just the sight of him was enough to remind her of what she’d sacrificed. And for what?

A big, fat nothing.

“They allowed the clairvoyant to escape,” she snarled as the idiot crossed the room as if he was going to take her in his arms.

“How?” he asked, coming to an abrupt halt when she lifted a warning hand.

She felt another blast of fury as she recalled Roy’s stumbling explanation.

“She was traveling with a Sentinel who supposedly managed to overwhelm the guards and take off with her before anyone knew what was happening,” she ground out.

Peter scowled, his expression more annoyed than horrified. Which only proved he truly was a stupid, stupid man.

“Are they following her?”

Stella paced toward the nightstand beside her headboard. “They’re searching, but she could be anywhere,” she said.

“They should concentrate on the area around the nearest monastery,” Peter suggested. “She’ll more than likely go there to try and travel home.”

Stella narrowed her eyes. She was done screwing around. She wanted that weapon, and she wanted it now.

“Or you could do another reading and tell me where she’s going to be,” she informed him.

Peter shoved his fingers through his hair, which looked like a rat’s nest.

“I’ve told you it doesn’t work like that,” he muttered. “Now that I’ve had a vision the object is worthless.”

“Then I’ll get another one,” she snapped. After the clairvoyant had disappeared from the ranch twelve years ago, Gilbert had stored her meager belongings in a safe. That’s where Stella had gotten the small silver bracelet Peter had used for his initial vision. “I think the clairvoyant left behind some clothing.”

He was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “It won’t matter. I’ve never had two separate visions of the same person.”

Sharp-edged frustration combined with her fury. She was surrounded by incompetent idiots. Keeping her gaze on his pudgy face, she pulled open the drawer.

“So you’re telling me you’re worthless?” she accused.

He hunched a shoulder, his expression petulant. “Hey, I gave you the information you needed to find the female,” he muttered. “It’s not my fault your minions screwed up.”

“Trust me, my minions will suffer for disappointing me.” Her voice held an edge of cruel anticipation. Once she got her hands on Roy and his merry band