“I love it when you talk dirty,” she purred. “Give my regards to Lindsay.” She ended the cal , then redialed. The video activated and Syre’s face appeared. “Lindsay’s okay. And Adrian threatened me over her, so he’s stil protecting her. She’s in loving hands, Samyaza.”
Elijah stepped closer, his gaze riveted to the vampire leader’s haunted eyes. A long moment later, Syre swal owed and a deep exhale escaped him. “Todah, Vashti.”
“You’re welcome.” Her face and voice softened. “I should have checked sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”
Silent understanding passed between the two vampires. The instinctive exchange bespoke of a long relationship and deep compassion. Elijah was contemplating his own changing perceptions about Vashti—most especial y his absorption of her as a person who had a soft heart beneath the hard exterior—when she ended the cal and faced him.
She arched a brow. “Feel better?”
“Enough for now.” He wouldn’t feel total y settled until he spoke with Lindsay himself, but at least he knew she was with Adrian, who would die for her. His friend was safe for now.
“Less inclined to kil me now?”
He bared his teeth in a smile.
She shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
CHAPTER 4
As Vash opened the rear hatch of her Jeep, she felt Elijah’s stare move down her back.
Something had shifted between them a moment ago. She’d felt it, even if she couldn’t define it.
“What are you doing?” His rough, rumbling voice at her shoulder prompted a deep, cleansing breath, and she closed her eyes.
The hardest transition from Watcher to Fal en hadn’t been the loss of her wings; it had been the surge of emotion that shattered her previously inviolate equanimity. Since Charron, the only blessing she’d received was the numbness of al -encompassing fury. That a lycan—one of the very creatures who’d made her what she was today—should be the one to break through her shel and rattle her was the most heinous irony.
“These are surveil ance cameras.” She pul ed out one of the long rods that had a camera on top of it. “You’l want to get some of your men to place them around the perimeter in widening circles. Then station a team on the surface to monitor the feed.”
Stepping back, she let him see that the rear seat had been laid flat, expanding the cargo area to hold dozens of cameras.
“Jumping in with both feet,” he said, glancing at her with those bril iantly verdant eyes.
She set the tip of the camera pod on the ground and leaned her weight into it. Syre didn’t want the lycans to know just how much they were needed, but there’d been too many skeletons popping out of closets already. Considering who they both were—hunters of the highest caliber for their respective factions—there would certainly be more transgressions they’d hate each other for. Neither of them could afford to hold back from this point forward, just as they couldn’t delve too deeply into their pasts. Theirs was a merger of necessity. Regardless of the things they’d done previously, they needed each other now. Digging up secrets would only make the going more difficult; it couldn’t change the route.
Vash met his gaze. “What choice do we have?”
“Right.” But the line of his mouth softened.
“These are just a temporary precaution. We’l start moving your people out of here in the morning. I know you’l want to be near rural areas, but we need a command center with easy transportation access. I’ve got specs on some properties that meld the two needs. Money isn’t a concern.”
He shifted his stance, and his irises took on a preternatural glow. Her hackles rose. She spun around before she heard the rustle behind her, kicking herself inwardly for being caught unawares, another sign that Elijah had knocked her off her game.
A slender woman stepped into the clearing. Dressed in a simple sleeveless floral dress with buttons down the front, she looked fresh and innocent except for her eyes, which were narrowed and hot with hatred.
Rachel. The mate of the lycan Vash had tortured in an effort to find Elijah, whose blood had been left at the scene of Nikki’s abduction.
“Back off, Rachel,” Elijah warned.
“She’s mine, El.”
Vash moved subtly, firming her stance and preparing to unsheathe the blades on her back. She commiserated with Rachel’s loss and she didn’t disagree with the lycan’s right to chal enge her—after al , revenge for a murdered mate was a goal they shared—but damned if she’d go down for anyone without fight.
“No, Rachel,” he growled softly. “She’s mine.”
“You owe me this. He died protecting you.”
“He didn’t give me up. I won’t deny that.” He moved closer, stepping in front of Vash, acting as a shield. “But Micah set me up in the first place. He planted my blood, and that lured Vash to hunt me.”