She struggled to think.
Who knew it could be such a difficult task?
“Why?”
His finger brushed her heated cheek. “Hmmm?”
“Why are you concerned that I would be hurt now?” she persisted. “It’s not like you gave a rat’s ass for the past six weeks.”
He met her accusing gaze, his expression somber. “The Sentinels—the ones who Dylan murdered—were two of my closest friends.” He grimaced. “The pain of their loss blinded me.”
She refused to be swayed by the edge of pain in his voice.
“So not all Sentinels are so cold-blooded?”
He gave a short laugh. “Oh, we’re cold-blooded, especially when we’re tracking prey.” His hand gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But a part of our mission is always to protect the innocent.”
A tiny part of Niko knew that he was behaving badly.
Again.
The poor female had nearly been kidnapped by a homicidal freak who looked like the definition of a monster. She’d discovered the man she’d come to trust had used her as a pawn. And then forced her against her will to travel to this remote cabin.
And that didn’t even include the revelation she was also one of the freaks. Something she’d obviously refused to process.
She was shaken, scared, and mad as hell.
But was he offering her comfort? Giving her the space she needed to come to terms with the upheavals in her life?
No.
He’d barely got her through the door before he had her in his arms, kissing her as if he’d already claimed her as his own.
But while the small shred of decency that had survived his years as a Sentinel urged him to release her, he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening.
He needed to touch her. It was a physical ache that he couldn’t deny.
“And now?” she asked, her defiant expression doing nothing to hide the vulnerability in her wide, velvet-brown eyes.
His fingers skimmed down the curve of her neck. “Now my first priority is to make certain you’re out of harm’s way.”
A fine tremor shook her body as his fingers continued down to trace the prominent line of her collarbone exposed by the drooping neckline of her sweatshirt.
Not that she was about to admit her ready response to his touch.
Once—before she’d discovered the truth—she would have eagerly shared her desire. It had been obvious in every shy smile and charming blush when he walked into a room.
The fact that he’d driven her to hide her desire was a raw regret that was going to torture him for the rest of his life.
“And then you’ll return to the hunt for Dylan?” she pressed.
He shrugged. Just six weeks ago he would have been infuriated by the mere question. Nothing was more important than tracking down the bitch who’d killed his friends.
But his priorities had changed. While he would never be satisfied until Dylan was brought to justice, his focus was now on ensuring that Angela was protected.
“That will be the decision of the Tagos,” he said.
She frowned. “What’s a Tagos?”
“The commander of the Sentinels.”
“And what will happen to me?”
“One problem at a time, angel,” he murmured, forcing himself to step back so he could pull his cell phone from his pocket.
“Wait,” she said, grasping his arm, her expression troubled.
“What is it?”
“I haven’t agreed to go with you.”
He squashed his impulse to inform her that he didn’t need her consent. After years of giving commands and having them obeyed, he was going to have to learn the art of negotiation.
A wry smile twisted his lips. He suspected it wouldn’t be the first, or the last change he would have to make for this female.
“Fine, but I have to check in and let them know Dylan is still out there,” he said.
She regarded him with open suspicion. “No tricks?”
“No tricks.” He leaned down to brush his lips over her furrowed brow. “The kitchen is fully stocked. See if there’s anything that you’d like for dinner.”
She took a hasty step backward, a revealing blush staining her cheeks.
“What about you?”
He swallowed a groan, the sweet taste of her skin clinging to his lips and the scent of her frustrated desire teasing his nose.
Sometimes superior senses weren’t always a bonus.
“Me?”
“You eat, don’t you?”
His gaze drifted down the length of her slender body before returning to meet her wide gaze.
“What I’m hungry for isn’t in the kitchen.”
Her lips parted, but perhaps aware he was looking for any excuse to yank her back into his arms and consume her on the spot, she turned to scurry toward the wide doors that led to the back of the cabin.
He breathed deeply of her lingering scent before pressing the number to Valhalla on his cell phone.
Within seconds he was patched through to Wolfe, the current Talos, and all-around badass.
“You have her?” the powerful leader of the Sentinels demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Not Dylan, but I have the scientist.”
“You let your prey escape?”
“Yes.”
There was a startled silence before Wolfe sucked in an audible breath.
“Talk to me, Niko.”
“I’ve been . . .” It took an effort to say the word he’d never thought he’d utter. “Compromised.”
Wolfe muttered a low curse. “Explain.”
“I’m no longer impartial,” he said, proving the point as he crossed the room so he could keep Angela in sight as she entered the kitchen. “I’m afraid my judgment can’t be trusted.”
“None of us are impartial,” Wolfe said in rough tones, the words thick with self-disgust. As Tagos, Wolfe held himself personally responsible for the death of Adam and Fiona. Not that he wouldn’t have even if he wasn’t the leader. Calling Wolfe a control freak was like calling a nuclear bomb a small explosive. “Dylan’s betrayal has affected us all.”
“This is more than my thirst for revenge,” Niko confessed without apology. Odd. He should be horrified by the thought that he was about to let a female come between him and his duty. Instead all he wanted was to be done with the conversation so he could head into the kitchen. “I’ve allowed myself to become personally invested in Angela.”
“The scientist?”