Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,102
be here is if this is a trap,” I said, giving Anderson a meaningful look. Which would have been more effective—maybe—if he’d bothered to look at me. Instead, he was unbuckling his seat belt with one hand while opening the door with the other.
I grabbed his arm to get his attention. “Let’s think about this for a minute before we do something stupid!”
I had no idea what Konstantin was planning. He knew Anderson couldn’t be killed, not by him, and not by a Descendant. But he must think he had some way to hurt him, some way to prevent Anderson from killing him. There was no other reason I could imagine for him to still be in the house when he had to know we’d be coming after him.
Anderson gave me a steely glare. “Konstantin is here. That’s all I need to know.”
He turned toward the door again, and again I grabbed his arm. “We also know this has to be a trap. He could have thirty of his closest friends in there with him, just waiting for you to stroll in like a macho idiot.”
Anderson snorted. “He’d have to risk letting them find out what I am, and that’s something he would never do. He’s alone in there. And I suggest you let go of me. I’m in no mood for your interference.”
“Well, I’m in no mood to get killed because you won’t listen to reason.”
“Fine. Then stay here.” He easily jerked his arm out of my grip and leapt out of the car.
“Dammit!” I fumbled with my own seat belt, uttering a few choice cuss words under my breath. I couldn’t just let Anderson walk in there alone. Sure, I was more vulnerable than he was, but I was also a hell of a lot more rational, and right now, that seemed like an important factor. “Wait up!” I yelled, pushing my door open and jumping out. Which turned out not to be my brightest move ever. We had come to a stop at the edge of the ditch, the car’s undercarriage hung up on a big chunk of ice. The side of the ditch was covered with ice as well, and given my momentum and the severe angle, I ended up doing an inglorious nosedive into the ditch.
I twisted my ankle during the fall, as well as knocking the wind out of myself. Anderson, radiating impatience, reached down and hauled me to my feet before I was ready. I almost went down again.
“Your delay tactics are getting on my nerves,” he said, and if he wanted to think my pratfall was a deliberate attempt to slow him down, then I was happy to let him go right ahead thinking it.
“Just give me half a second to catch my breath. That hurt!”
From the looks of him, half a second was all I was going to get, and grudgingly at that.
“So what’s your plan, Rambo?” I asked as I gingerly put my weight on my injured ankle. “Go in the front door and hope he’s not expecting you?”
He shot me a glare that would have had me taking a hasty step away if my ankle weren’t complaining so loudly. Clearly, he wasn’t open to suggestion, nor was he prepared to address my objections. I’d never seen him quite like this before, and frankly, it scared me. I didn’t want to let him go in there alone, but I didn’t want to get killed—or worse, considering this was Konstantin we were going after—charging in like a stampeding bull.
“I don’t care if he’s expecting me,” Anderson said through gritted teeth. “There’s nothing he can do to me.”
Apparently that was as much discussion as he was willing to entertain. He turned away from me and started marching through the snow toward the house, leaving me to follow or not as I chose.
Wincing in pain at every step, I took off after him.
Our car had come to a stop well past the driveway, and Anderson and I were approaching the house through the woods. I could have reminded him that there were surveillance cameras in these woods and that it might be best to disable one before plowing heedlessly onward, but I didn’t think he would listen to me. I just hoped Konstantin hadn’t kept up the security detail that was monitoring the cameras the last time I’d trespassed here.
I had already determined beyond reasonable doubt that Anderson wasn’t going to listen to me, but I didn’t have it in me to just