Hour of the Dragon - Heather Killough-Walden Page 0,82
jealousy was amusing to Cain. Angel really got under the man’s skin. Cain wondered if that would ever fade.
Time did funny things to people who lived forever.
The lights and colors at the end of the portal’s tunnel shifted and solidified, opening to a familiar scene. Cain and his men stepped out of the portal, allowing it to shut behind them. Cain approached the red-haired woman who seemed out of place amongst the group of hardened or seasoned fighters and spell casters. Amusingly, she was more powerful than most of them put together.
“Cain,” greeted Katrielle. He nodded at her, and she handed him a note that had been rolled and tied with a red string. “This appeared by object transport just after you left tonight. The transport spell was untraceable.”
Cain took the note and felt his expression go grim. He knew he’d smelled blood when he’d exited the portal. The string wasn’t originally red. It had simply been soaked. The fact that it was still tied meant the others hadn’t wanted to screw with the string in case Cain recognized the scent – and they also just simply hadn’t wanted to touch it in general. Kat had probably read the note through more magical means.
But now Cain snapped the string and let it drop, partly out of impatience and partly because he felt disgusted. He didn’t recognize the owner of the blood based on its scent, but he recognized the fear lacing it. It was heavy with adrenaline. He unrolled the paper and read the messily scrawled letters, also written in blood.
Then he lowered the note.
It didn’t look like Mace was going to get the time he wanted with his girl after all.
“We could handle this on our own and deal with the casualties,” said Kat, “as it’s unwise to negotiate in hostage situations. Even humans seem to understand that.”
“But they’re Faith’s friends,” he said. “I get it. She deserves to make the call on this one.” Cain dropped the note, and it erupted into flame, burning away to ash before it hit the ground. He glanced down at the ash.
The tiniest, most miniscule portion of his power had escaped from him.
Before he could apologize, Katrielle smiled in understanding. “No one minds,” she assured him.
“I’ll get Faith,” he said. “We’ll meet up at the Austin safe house in fifteen.” He looked up at the people standing around him until Graham Campbell met his gaze. The man nodded in understanding and Cain nodded back.
Without having to speak a word, Cain vanished in a transport he’d perfected long, long ago.
Chapter Twenty-six – Santorini, Greece
He walked in to find Annaleia reaching for two different things, one several shelves above her, and one several shelves below. The shelves would normally adjust to allow an individual to reach whatever it was they wanted – but leave it to her to put them in the one predicament where they couldn’t meet her demands.
“For the love of – just grab them individually,” Ares told her, joining her in the enchanted closet.
“I wanted to see if it could still give me both items,” she told him, grinning up at him through a curtain of hair. Her grin was delicious. It was impish, wild, and highly carb-loaded.
He shook his head and strode toward her, reaching for the arm that was raised toward the taller shelf, but she stood up abruptly and tried to pull away just when his fingers closed around her wrist. When she yanked, the cuff of her sweater sleeve slid down, exposing most of her forearm.
Antares went still, and his grip tightened. His eyes zeroed in on the scars.
Annaleia had gone still as well, frozen in his grip. When he pulled his gaze from her scars to her eyes, he found her looking away. Her smile was gone.
His guts clenched, and one of his hearts beat a slow, mournful beat.
“Leia, how did you get these scars? What happened?” He waited a second, then out of desperation, he did something he would have done when they were in school together. He glanced at the shelf she had been reaching for. “If you tell me right now, I’ll get the almond M&M’s down for you.”
Annaleia blinked. Her chin lifted a touch. As he watched, the corner of her mouth that he could see very slowly curled into the slightest smile. He found his grip on her arm letting up, as if he could meet her half way.
And he could. He would always be able to with her.