The reaper moved in the blink of an eye, standing close enough that he could bite through her neck and bleed her out with a mere shift of his head.
Val felt nothing but sizzling energy between them, fear mixed with adrenaline and attraction that deepened when he wrapped a large hand around her throat.
He smiled again, his grin a mix of darkness and sensuality.
Then he squeezed.
Except he didn’t choke her. He just put pressure there, studying her with a curiosity at odds with his threatening tone.
Hecate sighed. “Khent, let her explain.”
It seemed to Val that the vampire reluctantly let her go and took a step back, but he didn’t look away. “Well, Valentine? Explain.”
She rubbed her throat, unable to take her gaze from Khent, whose eyes flashed with red. “I’ll tell you who the necromancer is and anything you want to know about him. But only if you help me kill him.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Khent hadn’t expectedthe pretty little human to be so bloodthirsty.
He liked it. “You wantusto helpyoukill the necromancer? Really?”
His hand still tingled where he’d gripped her slender neck. Valentine Darkmore. So fragile, so easily controlled.
To his mortification, he continued to have to fight his body’s natural response to the female’s proximity. The call to mate had never been so present before, and he was immediately reminded of his dream.
The one where he’d reached an unsatisfying fulfillment, waking to spill into his sheets instead of her warm body.
She flushed, as if she could read his mind. Could she?
He imagined dominating her sexually, in all manner of poses. But she didn’t respond except to answer Hecate’s question about knowing their enemy.
Unfortunately, all that fantasizing did little to cool his suddenly awakened libido.
“I’ve known him all my life,” Valentine was saying. “He killed my parents.”
So, not a telepath then. A necromancer who wanted vengeance. That interested him.
Hell, he found everything about the slight human enthralling, which irritated him to no end. Humans were the lowest of the low in terms of power and strength.
Yet for all that he could crush her windpipe in the split second it would take him to wrap his hand around her throat, he had the feeling she had a lot more power than she showed the world.
Oddly, the human felt like a reaper. Of course, it only made sense since she controlled the dead. Months ago, when he’d fought her briefly at the bazaar, she’d commanded a legion of birds. A lot more than most necromancers might be able to handle.
He wondered how much she could really do, and if he’d get a chance to see before she died. Because he had no doubt he’d be the one to kill her at some point. But not before he had some fun with her.
She glared at him, her eyes night-dark and full of rage.
Despite himself, he granted her a smile.
Her anger turned to confusion, and she glanced back at Hecate. “I’m sorry. I missed what you just said.”
Hecate smirked at Khent. “I said it’ll be interesting to watch you and Khent work together on this.”
“Excuse me? I must have misheard you.” Khent turned his wrath on the goddess he’d grown tired of entertaining.
It was one thing to heed her call because his sire insisted. Another to bond with a group of vampires and take them on as kin. Working to recover legendary Bloode Stones had its merits, but he didn’t want to hand them over to Hecate. To his new patriarch, sure. Varu had earned Khent’s loyalty.
