chapter Four
On some level Angela knew she must be in shock.
Otherwise she’d be curled in the middle of the floor screaming in terror. Or at the very least, calling nine-one-one.
Instead she stumbled toward her bedroom, barely aware of what she was doing as she found a gym bag on the floor of her closet and began stuffing it with clothes.
She had to get away.
Somewhere.
Anywhere.
The destination didn’t matter. Just so long as it wasn’t here.
Vaguely realizing the bag was full, she zipped it shut and rose to her feet.
It was only when she turned that she realized she wasn’t alone.
“Shit.” She dropped the bag, reaching behind her back to retrieve the carving knife she’d grabbed on her way out of the kitchen. “Stay back.”
In answer Niko took a deliberate step forward, his gaze flicking down to the bag at her feet.
“Good. You’ve packed.”
Her gaze locked on the handsome face that had filled her dreams for six long weeks. God. He looked so . . .
Abruptly her tight knot of fear exploded into sheer rage. “I told you to stay back,” she snarled, waving the knife in warning.
“Please, Angela.” He held up his hands. “You need to listen to me.”
Her heart squeezed with a crippling sense of betrayal. It didn’t matter that she’d known this man for less than two months. Or that he’d never made her any promises.
She’d felt a . . . connection to him.
A tenuous hope that he would be the one man to eventually see the woman beneath the awkward nerd.
God. Could she have been more delusional?
“So I can hear more lies, Dr. Bartrev?”
His eyes darkened, as if bothered by the harsh edge of accusation in her voice.
“My name isn’t a lie,” he said. “I’m Nikolo Bartrev.”
“You’re not a professor.”
“No.” He took another step forward and Angela shivered as he dropped his pretense of a harmless professor. It wasn’t like he’d snapped his fingers and transformed into another creature. It was more a subtle hardening of his dark, beautiful features. The squaring of his broad shoulders that looked even broader beneath the cream cable sweater. And the swirl of heat that poured through the room, stroking over her in silent warning. “I’m a Sentinel.”
She tossed aside the knife. It was worse than useless considering she was more likely to poke it into herself than harm the dangerous predator that watched her with his piercing blue gaze.
And he was a predator.
She could sense it with every fiber of her being.
“I thought Sentinels were marked with tattoos?”
“Those who act as guardians are protected by wards.”
“But not you?”
“No. I’m a hunter. I need to . . . blend when necessary.”
Her jaw clenched at the painful reminder of his charade.
Bastard.
“So what makes you a Sentinel?”
He hesitated, clearly considering his words. Did the high-bloods have a code of silence? She wouldn’t doubt it. There was very little information about them in the general population.
“I’m stronger and faster than most people,” he at last admitted. “I also have heightened senses.”
“And it’s your job to track down freaks.” She deliberately used the insult.
Beneath her overriding fear she was well and truly pissed.
Who could blame her?
Her chin was bleeding from the claws used by the creepy Dylan who intended to kidnap her and force her to play the role of Dr. Frankenstein. And this man—this arrogant jackass—had treated her like she was nothing more than an expendable object.
Something to be used and tossed away.
He gave a dip of his head. “Yes.”
“And you always get your man?”
His gaze briefly lowered to the soft curve of her breasts barely visible beneath her sweatshirt.
“Or woman.”
Her nipples tightened in instant reaction and she swallowed a curse. The tingling, heart-stopping heat that she’d always savored when near this man was now a brutal reminder of just how humiliatingly naïve she’d been.
“No matter who you have to use?”
He shoved impatient fingers through the short strands of his hair.
“Dylan killed two Sentinels to escape Valhalla, then twelve norms to try and draw us from her true purpose,” he rasped. “She has to be stopped.”
Angela grimaced. Fourteen people murdered? Okay. Obviously the psycho killer had to be captured.
But that didn’t make it any easier to know she’d been used as bait.
“How did you know she would be coming here?”
He shrugged. “You’re the only one who has the talent to alter her appearance.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking.
Dammit. Why were they trying to make her believe she was a freak?
Did they think it would make her more sympathetic to their cause?
“Not. In. The. Mood.”
“Fine.” Perhaps sensing she was on the verge of a meltdown, he wisely backed off. “We need to go now.”
“We?” She made a sound of disbelief. “Are you brain-dead? I’m not going anywhere with you.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he grimly held on to his temper.
“You don’t have a choice. Dylan’s not going to stop hunting you. Not until she’s dead.” He deliberately paused. “Or you are.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“No.” He was gripping her upper arms firmly before she even realized he’d moved. Holy shit. He wasn’t lying when he said he was faster. “You won’t.”
She tilted back her head, pretending his touch wasn’t searing through her sweatshirt.
The lover of my dreams is now my enemy, she fiercely reminded herself.
“So I’m a prisoner?”
His brows drew together in a scowl. “Dammit, Angela, I’m only trying to protect you.”
“A little late for that, don’t you think?”
“Late for what?”
She forced herself to meet his ruthless gaze. “If you truly wanted to protect me you’d have told me the truth from the beginning.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Of course not,” she mocked, not bothering to try and pull from his grasp. What was the point? He was clearly ten times stronger than her. Which should have made her wonder why she was pissed instead of terrified. “I’m just the bait, right?”
He heaved a harsh sigh. “I was never going to let you be hurt.”
Was he kidding?
She shook her head in disgust. “Well you did.”
He hissed, his hands skimming down to her wrists so he could tug her arms up as his gaze inspected her slender body.
“I’ve seen the scratches on your face. Are you wounded anywhere else?”
She jerked her wrist free and, balling her hand into a fist, she slugged him in the center of his chest.
“You hurt me, you bastard,” she hissed.
He tensed at her accusation. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“No?” Ignoring all sanity, she hit him again. “Then why did you pretend to be my friend?”
His beautiful face became wary. “I needed to be close to you.”
“Bullshit. You’re some magical Sentinel, aren’t you?” she demanded. “You could have watched without me ever knowing you were around. Instead you—”
“What?”
She shuddered at the aching sense of betrayal. She was used to being teased, or more often, ignored by the opposite sex. But she’d never been so callously humiliated.
“You let me think you liked me.”
“Angela.”
“God, I’m such an idiot.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. Hitting him only hurt her hand.
“Don’t,” he commanded, studying her with a brooding intensity. “You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.”
“Am I?” She gave a humorless laugh. “Then why did I spend my nights fantasizing about a man who was willing to offer me up as a sacrifice to a psychopath?”
Something dark and dangerous flared to life in his eyes. Something he’d never allowed her to see before.
But, even as Angela took an instinctive step backward, Niko was reaching to yank her against his unyielding chest.
Danger. Heat. Desire.
She squawked in surprise, her mouth opening to protest his manhandling.
And he kissed her.
Just like that.
His lips were hard, hungry, just as she’d always fantasized, but the brush of his tongue was a gentle caress. He pressed her closer and the feel of his thickening arousal sent a stab of excitement to the pit of her stomach.
She moaned, her hands lifting to his shoulders as fiery heat flowed like lava through her, searing away the world where she was being hunted by a mass murderer and this man was her enemy.
Somewhere in his lust-hazed mind, Niko knew he was behaving badly.
Even for a man who rarely bothered himself with tedious things like good manners or proper behavior, he understood you didn’t grab a woman who was furious with you and kiss her like a Neanderthal.
But he’d spent six long weeks denying his rampant desire for this female, pretending that she was just a pawn in his game while he used every excuse to spend time in her company.
Now shockwaves of pleasure jolted through him, making it all blindingly clear.
This woman wasn’t a pawn.
She wasn’t bait.
She was . . . his.
His hands trailed up the delicate line of her back, his cock already hard and aching for release. He groaned, his tongue dipping between her lips to taste the warm, sweet woman who’d plagued his dreams.
She shivered, but his hunter instincts were easily able to sense it wasn’t with fear.
He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, feel the rush of blood beneath her satin skin and catch the scent of her stirring arousal.
She was angry with him, but that didn’t halt her response to his touch.
His hand swept beneath the thick curtain of her hair, cupping her nape as he deepened the kiss.
He wanted to toss her on the bed just inches away and devour every satin inch of her. Over and over.
Unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Not only was Dylan still on the loose, but he suspected that Angela was far more innocent than most females her age.
When he finally had her in his bed he wanted all night to demonstrate why she should remain there.
Reluctantly lifting his head, he gazed down at her upturned face. Over the past weeks he’d memorized every line and curve of her delicate features. Not because of his Sentinel training, but because he’d been fascinated by her quiet beauty. The velvet darkness of her eyes and the lush curve of her mouth.
He’d even learned to recognize the play of emotion over her expressive features.
He knew when she furrowed her brow she was lost in her clever thoughts. And when she chewed her bottom lip she was feeling awkward in a conversation. And when her eyes grew dreamy she was thinking of him.
He stroked a finger over the soft color staining her cheeks.
“You are so beautiful.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, her wide eyes dazed. “What are you doing?”
His finger moved to outline her lips. How long had he’d wondered what they would taste like? It seemed an eternity.
Now he knew.
Cherries.
Fresh cherries still warm from the sunshine.
“What I wanted to do from the minute I caught sight of you.”
She briefly allowed herself to become lost in his gaze, revealing far more of her vulnerable need than she realized. Then, obviously remembering why he was in her bedroom, oh, and the fact she currently hated him, she gave a sharp shake of her head.
“Liar. This is some new trick to try and—”
He kissed her again.
Okay, maybe he was a Neanderthal. At least where Angela Locke was concerned.
He wanted to brand her. With his touch, his kiss, his passion . . .
He swallowed her choked groan, his hands shifting to tenderly cup her face. Slowly he savored the taste of cherries and delectable woman, his thumbs stroking over the fluttering pulse just below her jaw.
It wasn’t until she was arching toward him in silent need that he lifted his head to meet her unfocused gaze.
“You were right,” he murmured.
She blinked. “I was?”
“I could have watched you from the shadows.”
Another blink. “Then why didn’t you?”
He peered deep into her wide eyes. “You know why.”
“Niko—”
“We need to leave,” he interrupted, forcing himself to drop his hands.
He’d been a Sentinel for a very, very long time. And never had he lost sight of his goal.
But with this woman . . . dammit.
He was in real danger of allowing himself to be distracted.
Which was a perfect way to get them both killed.
She frowned, struggling to follow his words. “Leave?”
“Dylan hasn’t given up her obsession of becoming normal.”
“Oh.” She pushed back her hair with an unsteady hand. “I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why is she so anxious to become normal? There’s a lot of people like you, isn’t there?”
“Like us,” he corrected, knowing at some point she was going to have to accept that she was special. “And yes, there are high-bloods all over the world. But most are able to pass as common norms with a little effort.”
She ignored his reminder she wasn’t one of the norms. Typical. In the past six weeks he’d realized that Angela was capable of ignoring any number of things. Including her less than “normal” ability to manipulate cells.
“Is her physical appearance all that’s different about her?”
“No.” He held her gaze. “She’s a Sentinel. Like me.”
Her expression hardened at the reminder of his position. She might melt at his touch, but she wasn’t going to forgive anytime soon.
“A better Sentinel than you?” she taunted.
“No, not better than me.”
“Then why didn’t you catch her?”
A hell of a question.
When he’d followed Dylan through the window he’d fully intended to hunt her down and put an end to her bloody rampage. A fine plan, but Dylan wasn’t without her own skills and she managed to disguise her trail only a few blocks away.
Given time, Niko could have unraveled the various ruses that she’d used to hide her presence. He hadn’t been boasting when he assured Angela that he was the better Sentinel.
But even as his duty demanded he carry on his hunt no matter how long it took, the man in him was urging him back to Angela’s apartment.
He’d told himself that it only made sense. Dylan wasn’t going to leave without Angela. She was convinced the young scientist was her one hope of living a normal life. But in the depths of his heart he knew that wasn’t the reason he’d rushed back to the apartment.
“I couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t circle back,” he admitted with a reluctant honesty.
“And you were concerned for my safety?” She rolled her eyes, not able to hide her lingering sense of betrayal. “I’m touched.”
“Dammit.”
He’d royally screwed up. Fine, he got it. But now wasn’t the time to soothe ruffled feathers. He could defeat Dylan in a fair battle, but the Sentinel was no longer playing by the rules. Who knew what nasty surprises she might have up her sleeve? Hell, he didn’t even know for sure that she was working alone. He needed to get Angela somewhere safe.
With a grimace at the knowledge he was about to give this woman yet another reason to be pissed off, he grabbed her around the waist and with one smooth motion had her tossed over his shoulder.
“Hey,” she cried out, swinging her legs in an effort to hit the part of him that was as vulnerable as any man’s. “Put me down, you . . . you bully.”
Wrapping an arm around her knees, he locked her into place before reaching down to grab her bag from the floor.
Who knew that rescuing a damsel in distress could be such a pain in the ass?