Blood Lust - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,67

to go?”

He shrugged. “I want to make sure the traitor doesn’t escape.”

She understood his savage desire to get his hands on the high-blood. She was itching to have him in her dungeons where she could have a long and very thorough conversation with Peter Baldwin.

But as the leader, Wolfe’s place was in Valhalla.

Right?

“Your Sentinels are capable of dealing with the clairvoyant.”

“True,” he conceded, a hint of satisfaction easing his grim expression. He knew she was worried about him and he was enjoying the hell out of it. “But I want to be there.”

She thinned her lips. “Tell me why.”

“And you call me stubborn?” he teased.

“Wolfe.”

He held up a slender hand, his brow furrowing with genuine concern.

“There have been too many rumors of the Brotherhood hoarding illegal weapons for me not to believe they are true,” he said. Over the past weeks Valhalla had scrambled to gather information on the secretive group. The fact that they had a supply of army-grade weapons that had been forbidden by the government had been a nasty surprise. “I won’t risk my men until I can be sure this is not a trap.”

She got it.

Wolfe was a leader who would never send in his soldiers where he was too afraid to go. That didn’t, however, ease her fierce aversion to the thought of him waltzing into such a volatile situation.

“You’re the Tagos.”

His lips twitched as she continued to point out the obvious. “I’m aware of my title.”

“That means you give the orders and your men carry them out.” She tilted her chin, trying to look as imposing as possible. Wolfe called it her “stop being a pain in my ass” face. “Putting yourself in danger doesn’t help anyone.”

Naturally the aggravating male simply chuckled. “I recall giving you that exact speech a few weeks ago, only to be rudely ignored.”

She waved aside his accusation with an impatient hand. “That was different.”

He snorted. “Of course it was.”

“It was,” she said, belatedly realizing she sounded like a petulant child. She gave a sharp shake of her head. “I was the only one able to keep Annie stable long enough to get her to Valhalla,” she finished in cool tones.

He moved forward, invading her space and surrounding her in his heat.

“You put yourself in danger because you thought it was necessary for your people,” he said, reminding her of her refusal to listen to his infuriated command to remain at Valhalla when the crazed witch had been creating chaos. “Do you expect me to do any less?”

She heaved a resigned sigh, turning to study Molly’s tiny face resting so peacefully on the pillow.

“I don’t know why I bother to argue with you,” she muttered. “You’re going to do whatever you want.”

Without warning she felt warm fingers brush down the curve of her neck.

“Oh, if only that were true,” he said in a husky voice.

She quivered, the tiny sparks that raced through her body an intoxicating temptation. Briefly closing her eyes, she willed herself to pull away from his light touch.

“Wolfe,” she breathed, the strain in her voice revealing how hard it was for her to deny the need that pulsed between them.

She felt the force of his frustration beat against him before he was slowly stepping back.

“Is it worth the sacrifice?” he demanded.

“Most of the time,” she muttered, her gaze still on the sleeping child, a wistful longing settling in her soul.

“Does it have to be a choice?”

Her decision to break all ties with family and friends had been a personal choice, not a moral or legal necessity. But she’d never second-guessed herself.

Or at least, she’d never admitted she questioned what might be....

“Yes,” she said, turning her head to meet Wolfe’s searing gaze.

He scowled, his expression hardening at her refusal to even consider a different choice.

“I need to get my shit together,” he muttered, whirling around to head for the door.

Lana knew his “shit” meant the dozen weapons he would have strapped to his body before he traveled to the Brotherhood compound.

Once again she was struck by a strange prickle of premonition.

“I wish you wouldn’t go, Wolfe” she said, the words clipped. “I have a bad feeling.”

He continued toward the door, his sleek form almost lost among the shadows.

“You have your job and I have mine.”

She grimaced, unable to argue. It was his decision who should be in charge of the raid on the Brotherhood compound.

“True.”

He halted at the door, glancing over his shoulder with an unreadable expression.

“Lana.”

“What?”

“You’re exhausted. Give Molly a kiss and go to bed,” he commanded.

She