Predatory - By Alexandra Ivy Page 0,35

a soft sob. “What can we do?”

There was a long, agonizing hesitation before Arel awkwardly rose to his feet and pulled a phone from his pocket.

“I’ll call for a healer.”

“They’ll never get here in time.”

“Just—” Arel gave a helpless shake of his head. “Stay here.”

Angela watched the younger Sentinel walk away with the phone pressed to his ear before she turned back to the terrifyingly motionless man lying at her knees.

“Oh, Niko. Don’t you dare leave me,” she quietly murmured, her hands running a path along the gruesome injury as she willed his shredded heart to beat. “Not after you forced me out of my laboratory. And made me discover who I am.” Her teardrops trailed down her cheek and dropped into Niko’s tousled hair, shimmering in the copper highlights. Oh . . . God. He couldn’t die. She wouldn’t let him. “And then you went and made me fall in love with you, you irritating man.” There were more tears, and a strange heat that seemed to flow from her palms. She ignored both as she continued to pour out her raw, mindless grief. “I can’t do this alone. I need you.” She lowered her head until her face was buried in his throat, drowning in his familiar scent. “Please, Niko, please.”

She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there, rubbing her hands over Niko’s chest, but it was at last the feel of fingers lightly touching her shoulder that brought her back to her surroundings.

“Angela,” Arel murmured softly.

“No, I can’t bear it.”

“Angela, look.”

Reluctantly she straightened, assuming that Arel was warning someone was approaching.

“What?” she demanded when she realized the lot was empty.

With a bemused expression, he pointed toward her hands, which remained on Niko’s chest.

“That.”

It took a minute to see through the tears, then slowly she focused on the torn flesh that had started to knit back together.

“Oh my God,” she breathed in shock. “He’s healing.”

“You’re healing him,” Arel insisted.

She froze at his astonishing claim. “Me?”

“He has a heartbeat.” Arel’s fingers tightened on her shoulder, his urgent tone sending a flare of hope through her heavy anguish. “Don’t stop.”

“Niko.” Her hand resumed its soft strokes, her gaze glued to his face. Did he have more color than before? And was that a breath she heard? “Niko, can you hear me?”

There was nothing for long, agonizing minutes. Then, when she was beginning to fear that her grief was making her imagination run wild, there was a flutter of his lashes.

“Angela?” he croaked in husky tones.

She gave a choked cry, overwhelmed with relief. “It’s a miracle.”

Arel released a joyous laugh, his fingers giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“You’re the miracle.”

“Finally, you got something right, amigo,” Niko whispered, his gaze trained on Angela’s flushed face. “She is a miracle. My miracle.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I mean . . . I’ve been able to alter cells on a small scale, but this—”

“Gifts often reveal themselves under stress,” Arel said. “Although not usually with such spectacular results.”

“I’m not sure I could ever do it again,” she admitted, still shaken by the thought of how close she’d come to losing the man she loved.

“Your powers are yours, angel. No one will ever force you to offer more than you’re comfortable giving.” Niko lifted a hand to brush away her tears. “Now can we go home?”

“Home?” She studied his beloved features, knowing he wasn’t referring to her empty apartment. “You mean Valhalla?”

“Yes.” He managed a weak smile, his thumb tracing her lower lip. “You’re one of us now.”

Her eyes shifted to the wound that was continuing to heal before returning to meet his steady gaze.

She was one of them.

A freak.

A high-blood.

A Sentinel’s lover.

And nothing had ever made her happier.

“You’re right,” she murmured, bending down to gently kiss the man who offered her a future she never dreamed possible. “It’s time to go home.”

Hello Readers!

I hope you enjoyed Angela and Niko’s story. This is a short introduction to my new series, The Sentinels. This series will revolve around people who are “gifted” with special abilities and the warriors who protect them. Next up is Duncan O’Conner’s story. He’s a hard-nosed police detective who requests the services of Callie Brown, a high-blood necromancer, when a young woman is found murdered in her kitchen. Callie’s skill allows her to view the last memories of the dead before the soul leaves the body. Most cops consider it a gruesome talent, but Duncan isn’t so squeamish. Callie has managed to solve a dozen murders over the past five

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