Blood Lust - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,85
be,” she said, turning the conversation back to the reason she’d sought out this woman. “Correct?”
Stella hesitated before giving a nod of her head. “Yes.”
“What else did he see?”
“Exactly what you fear,” Stella assured her. “That the female clairvoyant will give me what I need to destroy you.”
Lana frowned. There was truth in the woman’s words. The clairvoyant had foretold something that gave Stella the belief she was going to be victorious.
But there was also a hint of uncertainty. As if things weren’t unfolding exactly as the woman had expected.
“What is the weapon?” Lana demanded.
Stella laughed, her expression mocking. “You can’t possibly expect me to tell you.”
She hadn’t. But it would have saved time.
Still, there was more than one way to get the information she needed.
“Have it your way,” she said with a shrug, turning toward the door. “Although, I will warn you that the extraction method is always a painful process and”—she deliberately paused, giving a tiny shudder—“on some occasions destructive.”
“Wait,” Stella rasped.
Lana turned back to study the woman’s uncertain expression. “Yes?”
Stella licked her lips, her clever mind no doubt searching for a way to gain time.
She was a survivor.
Lana might have admired the trait if Stella hadn’t been so willing to use and abuse people.
“We might be able to negotiate a deal,” the leader of the Brotherhood grudgingly offered.
Lana flicked a glance around the cell. “You’re hardly in a position to be making demands.”
The woman’s jaw tightened. She didn’t like being forced to beg.
“You want something,” she said between gritted teeth. “I want something—”
Her pitiful attempt to gain a compromise was interrupted as the door was shoved open and a large Sentinel with a skull-shaved head and bulging muscles stepped into the cell.
“Excuse me, Mave,” he murmured with a respectful bow.
Knowing she would never have been disturbed unless it was important, she instantly turned her attention to the warrior.
“Yes?”
The Sentinel glanced toward Stella, choosing his words with care.
“The Tagos wanted me to tell you that they’ve arrived.”
Lana frowned before realizing he had to be referring to Myst and Bas. There would be no reason to hide anyone else’s identity from the prisoner.
“Good,” she said, genuine relief flooding through her.
Not just because the Brotherhood hadn’t managed to get their hands on Myst, even though that was obviously vital to the safety of Valhalla. But because Molly would be reunited with her parents.
With a nod, the Sentinel slipped out of the cell. Lana moved to follow him, not surprised when Stella made a sound of distress.
“No,” she grated. “Where are you going?”
Lana paused long enough to send her prisoner a warning glare.
“Consider how you want to play this, Stella,” she said in icy tones. “I can make your life sheer misery if you don’t cooperate.”
Chapter Seventeen
Bas hovered in that weird place just before gaining full consciousness.
For a minute he let himself drift, trying to figure out where he was and how he’d gotten there.
He had a vague memory of excruciating pain and a very real desire to let go. It’d only been the sense of Myst pressed close against him that’d kept him from giving in to the lurking darkness.
She needed him.
Molly needed him.
He would fight against death, no matter how painful.
There’d been a fuzzy sense of movement, followed by more pain, and then . . . blessed relief. Taking a slow, inner inventory of his body, he realized the healers had managed to dig out the bullets and close his wounds.
Which meant he had to be at Valhalla.
Fear seared away the clinging fog, and he wrenched his eyes open to take stock of the crisp white room that was filled with a combination of stainless steel hospital equipment and wooden shelves that held ceramic pots of magical potions. The high-bloods used both human technology and their own powers to heal their people.
A potent combination.
Plus, there was a newfound healer who could actually change people’s DNA. It gave hope to those high-bloods born with genetic traits harmful to themselves or others.
He muttered a curse. The knowledge that he’d managed to make it to Valhalla didn’t ease the fear that twisted his gut. Especially when he realized he’d obviously been in the infirmary long enough for his body to start recovering.
“Myst?” His voice came out as a husky whisper.
“Nope,” a male voice replied. “It’s just me.”
He grimaced, watching as Kaede moved to stand beside the narrow hospital bed.
The enforcer was dressed in his familiar black jeans and tee with his dark hair pulled into a tail at his nape, but as