Chapter Twenty-Six
It was the sort of mansion that made Duncan shake his head in disgust.
Who needed a faux castle with twelve bedrooms, gold-plated toilets, and a helicopter pad? Hell, all that was missing was the drawbridge.
Either a man with a bloated ego, or one who had the need to hide in plain sight.
It was amazing how many top drug lords lived behind the high fences of gated communities, mixing with the neighbors as if he was just another tax-paying citizen.
Tonight, however, Duncan didn’t give a shit about the Olympic-sized pool or the outdoor bar that was bigger than his apartment. His only interest was standing poised at the narrow back gate as they waited for Niko to return from his scouting of the grounds.
“Cop—”
Duncan turned his head to glare at Wolfe, who stood with the silent Fane and Arel just a few feet away.
“Don’t even start,” he warned in low, fierce tones. “I’m going in.”
The Tagos arched a brow. “Your chief isn’t going to be happy if she finds out you did an illegal B and E.”
Duncan snorted. “I’ve done a lot of things that wouldn’t make my chief happy if she knew.”
“There might be hope for him yet,” Arel murmured with a cocky smile.
They all stiffened as there was a soft rush of air as Niko leaped over the high fence, landing with a silence that was terrifying.
Duncan had heard all the stories about Sentinels.
They were faster, stronger, with superior senses. And he’d even known he possessed a few of the qualities, even if he’d never wanted to admit it.
But to actually see them in action...
He grimaced. The humans would be far less complacent if they truly knew the sheer extent of the high-bloods’ powers. Which was no doubt why the Sentinels had gone to such trouble to remain hidden in a shroud of mystery.
Straightening, Niko slid through the shadows to stand directly before them.
“There’s a muting spell that makes it impossible to sense what’s inside.”
Fane was already moving. “I’ll do a sweep.”
“I’m coming with you,” Duncan announced, the biting urgency thundering through him making him twitchy as hell.
“Hold on, Rambo.” Wolfe grabbed his arm. “Fane’s the only one who can trigger the spells without killing us all.”
Duncan was forced to watch as Fane smoothly vaulted over the fence and disappeared.
He wanted to argue. Hell, he wanted to pull his gun and start shooting things. Beginning with the man holding him in a ruthless grip.
But he wasn’t completely insane.
Not yet.
He didn’t possess Fane’s protective tattoos or his magical ability to sense and destroy spells. He’d only be a liability if he went charging in like a bull in a china cabinet.
“Shit,” he muttered in frustration.
Wolfe released his arm, but his lean face remained hard with an undefinable emotion. “Callie is special to all of us.”
Duncan scowled at the Tagos. “Do you have a point?”
“Just listen.”
Duncan’s scowl deepened. Arrogant bastard. Unfortunately, he was an arrogant bastard that Callie needed if they were going to rescue her.
“I’m listening,” he managed between gritted teeth.
“When Callie was brought to Valhalla she was just a tiny scrap of a thing with eyes like jewels and a smile that could melt the hardest heart,” Wolfe said, a hint of affection softening the cruel curve of his mouth. “There wasn’t one of us who didn’t fall under her spell.”
Duncan could easily picture Callie as a tiny baby, slaying the hearts of the most cynical warriors. Who wouldn’t look into those magnificent eyes and fall in love?
“I’m not surprised.”
“So you understand that we’ll lay down our lives to keep her from being hurt.”
A command, not a question.
Duncan narrowed his eyes. “We’re not discussing the necromancer, are we?”
“I’ll accept your help in rescuing Callie. Hell, I’d accept the help of Satan if I thought it was necessary,” Wolfe said. “But trust is earned when it comes to Callie’s fragile heart.”
Duncan took a step forward, his hands clenched at his side.
Since becoming a cop he’d learned not to pick a fight he couldn’t win. But this was too important to back down.
The Sentinels considered Callie theirs to protect. They weren’t going to give him a place at her side.
He had to claim the right.
“I appreciate your concern, but Callie’s trust is all that matters to me,” he said, his expression warning he wasn’t looking for a debate on the issue. “I intend to devote my life to making her happy. With or without your approval.”
Arel snorted. “Either he’s a man with a death wish or a man in love.”
Duncan never allowed his gaze to waver from Wolfe’s lean face. You never took your eye off a predator.
Then the tension was shattered by a low whistle near the gate.
“That’s Fane,” Wolfe said, rapidly taking charge as he moved to shove open the gate, gesturing for the auburn-haired hunter to go first.
Duncan tried to charge forward, only to be halted once again by Wolfe’s hand grasping his upper arm.
The Tagos ignored Duncan’s string of curses as he watched his fellow Sentinel trot across the manicured yard, heading toward the front of the house, only to circle toward the back.
At last the man came to a halt, tilting back his head as if he was sniffing the air.
“Niko?” Wolfe prompted.
“I have her trail,” the man announced, heading toward the back terrace.
Wolfe released his grip and Duncan was in swift pursuit of Niko as he climbed the shallow steps and entered the house through a back door. Duncan didn’t know if it had been locked or not, and he didn’t care.
He wasn’t here as a cop. He was here as a man desperate to find the woman he loved.
Hold on, Callie. Hold on... he silently urged.
They moved through a large kitchen, Niko in the lead followed by Duncan and then Wolfe. Fane and Arel brought up the rear, both turned to the side to make sure there were no surprises lurking in the dark.
Niko led them out of the kitchen and down a short hallway, halting when they came to a dead end.
What the hell?
Duncan frowned as Wolfe stepped past him, lifting his leg to smash his massive foot through the paneling.
Ah. A secret doorway.
Of course.
Every wicked villain had one, didn’t he?