Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,21

at least four times as long as it was taking him. The man was almost as fast and efficient as a Cuisinart. He was a descendant of Tyr, a Germanic war god, and apparently his supernatural skills with weapons carried over to the kitchen.

I grabbed the salad tongs and began gingerly tossing the noodles and veggies with the sauce. I was afraid to do it too vigorously, or I’d spill stuff all over the place. Close up, I could smell soy sauce and ginger, and now the aromatic tang of red pepper. Leave it to Logan to make a cold salad into an enticing meal.

Logan finished his chopping and shredding, then nudged me aside to take over tossing the noodles. I don’t think he’d really wanted my help in the first place.

I drifted into the breakfast nook, which is like a mini-sunroom with three walls of glass looking out over the back lawn. Sunset tinged the scattered clouds with hints of peach and pink, and the woods beyond the lawn created the illusion that we were miles from civilization.

It was a nice view, until I saw the familiar orange and black stripes through a break in the trees. Moments later, Sita emerged onto the lawn, ambling along like she was taking a leisurely tour. I didn’t think it was smart of Jamaal to bring her this close to the house, particularly when she didn’t seem to differentiate friend from foe. Then again, I didn’t see Jamaal anywhere, so Sita might have decided to go on a walkabout all by herself, which did not speak well of his ability to control her.

“What are you looking at?” Logan asked as he set a couple of bowls of noodles down on the table.

Mutely, I pointed.

“Oh.” Logan sounded about as thrilled to see her as I was. There had been an . . . incident with Logan and Sita before and he’d almost gotten mauled before Jamaal was able to reel her in. I think he held a bit of a grudge. “Where the hell is Jamaal?” he muttered, and it was a good question.

If Sita were to leave the edge of the property, that would be bad. I didn’t want to think about how the humans around us would react if she toured the neighborhood, nor did I want to think about what Sita would do if she took exception to the reactions.

“We can’t just let her wander around loose,” I said.

“I know,” Logan replied grimly, then headed back into the main part of the kitchen and grabbed the chef’s knife he’d been using. “I’ll keep the damn cat busy, and you use your mojo to find Jamaal and drag his ass over here to corral her.”

This did not sound like the world’s greatest plan to me. Logan might be a war god descendant and really good with a knife, but I doubted he was a match for a full-grown tiger. Especially a supernatural one that might have powers we were as yet unaware of. However, he and I could survive being mauled if it came to that; our human neighbors could not. I hoped Jamaal wasn’t passed out somewhere.

Logan strode out the back door with me following close on his heels. Sita caught sight of us immediately and went eerily still. Her lips pulled back in a snarl.

“I am going to kick Jamaal’s ass,” Logan muttered, then started toward Sita with a resigned sigh.

I began edging my way toward the woods, keeping a wary eye on the tiger. She should have been focused on Logan, who was coming directly toward her, but to my dismay, she was looking straight at me.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” Logan called, and I had to admit I was impressed with his bravery. He was acting like initiating hand-to-claw fighting with a supernatural tiger was nothing more than an annoying inconvenience.

Sita flicked a glance at Logan, flattening her ears, and I thought our plan, such as it was, was working. I sped up, making sure not to get any closer to her on my way to the woods. Unfortunately, Sita dismissed Logan after that single glance, fixing her gaze on me once more and stalking toward me. I’m no expert at reading tiger body language, but the predatory glide of her movement suggested she wasn’t heading over to give me an affectionate head-butt like she’d given Jamaal. I’d thought Jamaal was being a smartass when he said Sita didn’t like me, but I was beginning to think he’d meant