insult. He couldn’t tease about his feelings for Angela. Or the fact that he’d hurt her so badly he couldn’t be sure she would ever forgive him.
“Give me a few hours to convince her that I’m not entirely evil.”
“Hmmm. Do you intend to do this convincing in the bedroom?”
“Not your business.”
Wolfe gave a short laugh that ended on a weary sigh. “Maybe it’s for the best. Things are . . . tense right now.”
“Because of Dylan?”
“No. The Mave is convinced we’ll be able to clean up that nasty business.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not entirely certain, but it has something to do with the necros. Which means their Sentinels refuse to leave their sides. You know how overprotective they are.”
Necromancers (or diviners as they preferred to be called) were bonded to a guardian Sentinel while they were still young, never leaving the protection of Valhalla or outlying compounds without one at their side.
“A threat?”
Wolfe made a sound of disgust. “Why would they tell me? I am, after all, only the leader of the Sentinels. It’s not like I need to be kept in the damned loop.”
Niko grimaced. Politics sucked. Especially for a man who had the tact of a raging bull.
“Arel shouldn’t be too far away,” he said, eager to change the conversation. “Could you have him join me at the cabin? The sooner he can get on Dylan’s trail the better.”
Instantly Wolfe was back in commander mode.
“Will he need backup?”
The memory of the hatred blazing in Dylan’s crimson eyes made the question easy to answer.
“Yes, but don’t tell him I said so.”
“You got it, although it will be a few hours before any backup can get there since they have to drive.” A pause. “Niko.”
“Yeah?”
“Take care of yourself.”
“Always.”
“Oh, and give that scientist a kiss for me.”
Not a chance in hell.
“You should know by now, Wolfe, I don’t share,” he growled.
Chapter Six
Angela was impressed.
So this was what a kitchen was supposed to look like, she wryly acknowledged.
It was more than the hand-carved cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. It was the heavy oak dining table in the center of the ceramic tiled floor and the matching china cabinet that displayed the prized dishware.
This was a place where families gathered to share meals and laugh away the troubles of the day.
It wasn’t a makeshift lab for a distracted scientist. Or a place for a child to sit alone with dinner from the microwave while her mother was flirting with her fellow drunks at the nearest bar.
She squashed the ridiculous pang. She wasn’t that lonely ten-year-old girl anymore and she was perfectly happy with her private apartment and her kitchen filled with microscopes.
Pulling a water bottle from the fully loaded fridge, she was debating between a salad and a tuna sandwich when a husky voice whispered in her ear.
“Did you find anything to tempt your appetite?”
With a muffled shriek she turned to glare at the man towering over her.
“Dammit,” she muttered, pressing a hand to her racing heart. “You really need to wear a bell.”
He flashed his rare, bone-melting grin. “Kinky, but whatever turns you on.”
She swallowed a groan as desire blazed through her with stunning force.
Even furious with his betrayal and unnerved by the disruption of her peaceful life, she still wanted him with a raw, aching need that was frightening.
Against her will her gaze drank in the lean, starkly beautiful face and stunning blue eyes that studied her with an unwavering intensity. His hair was even more ruffled than usual and her fingers itched to smooth the dark strands that shimmered like copper in the fading afternoon sunlight.
Then they could travel down to discover if his body was the chiseled perfection she’d always fantasized.
Abruptly realizing his eyes had darkened, as if he could actually sense her disturbing awareness, she shut the fridge door. Instantly she stepped back as his heat wrapped around her.
“How long did you have to practice sneaking up on people?” she breathed, shivering at the prickles that raced over her skin.
“It’s a natural talent.” He closed the tiny space between them, reaching to pluck the water bottle from her hand and tossed it into the recycle bin. “One of many.”
She licked her dry lips. “Is modesty another natural talent?”
“No, but this is.”
He leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss of sheer possession.
“Niko,” she muttered, the breath squeezed from her lungs as he wrapped his arms around her, moving slowly, as if to give her ample opportunity to step away.
Or perhaps he was worried his superior powers would