That occurrence was never far from Grace’s mind. After viewing herself in the bedroom unconscious on the video surveillance captured by James’ men, Grace had dissolved in one of the apartment’s many corridors. She was in shock and denial. It had been James who’d found her unconscious in the bed, not minding his wound and bloodied self. She was wet, muddy, and almost lifeless. Incredibly, it had been James who had rescued her from the clutches of death, biting his wrist and giving her his own blood. He had been on her side day and night. He never left her side. She had embarrassed herself with tears that wouldn’t end, but he’d let her spill them all. James had let her weep when the news of her grandmother’s death reached her, and even more astonishingly, he’d let her crumble against him, holding her through her grief in silence. With his strong arms wrapped around her, he held Grace together when she felt like she was being torn into pieces by her anguish. Her grandmother was attacked
Relief washed over Grace like a balm. She closed her eyes, feeling hot tears well up behind her lids. It took her a moment to compose herself enough to look at James again, and when she did, she found that gem-delicate gaze fixed hard on her. She wiped at the tears that streaked her cheeks, embarrassed that the warrior should see her break down. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so emotional. There’s just this... hole in my heart. My grandmother was the only family I ever had, and now that she is gone. I…’ She trailed off, unable to describe how empty she felt. ‘I just... ache.’ She didn't even notice that she was not speaking loudly and that she was talking to him telepathically. ‘It will pass.’ His voice was crisp and flat, like a slap to the face. ‘How can you say that?’ ‘Because it’s true. Grief is a useless emotion. The sooner you figure that out, the better off you’ll be.’ Grace gaped at him, appalled. ‘What about love?’ ‘What about it?’ ‘Haven’t you ever lost someone you lo
Marlon, the Hunter’s commander and the most trusted man of the Master, was waiting on information—vital information—and his patience was thin even in the best of situations. It didn’t bode well that his spy was late. The man he’d recruited for this particular job was volatile and arrogant, but he was also reliable. All human spies were. Drained to within a bare inch of life, the human mind slaves were under the complete control of the sorcerer who made them. Only the most powerful among the magical race could create a human spy to do their bidding, and supernatural law had long prohibited the practice as barbaric. But who cared? The Master must wake up soon, and he needed his bloodline’s magic to do that, but now that Flora, the master’s wife, was found dead, Marlon was on edge. He didn't want to start all over. Marlon scoffed with contempt at the self-imposed, bureaucratic castration of his kind. Just one more example of why they were overdue for change. They needed strong new lead
Grace wouldn’t look at James as she pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be. If you leave before I get back, I’d appreciate it if you locked up. I have my keys.’Damn it. She might be hungry like she said, but James could tell by the rigid line of her spine that the woman had a point to prove here.‘Grace,’ he said, moving toward her as she reached for the apartment door. If he wanted to stop her, all it would take was a thought. James knew it, and by the look on her face as she turned to look at him now, so did she. ‘I know you’re angry about what I said earlier, but it’s the truth. You’re in no shape to go on like this.’When he took another step, concluding he might as well tell her that he’d decided to turn her over to one of his warriors for her own safety, she closed her hand around the doorknob and sharply twisted it open.Grace couldn’t have chosen a more effective weapon against him.Bright afternoon sunlight streamed in from the ves
James came out of a brief, light doze, fully recharged, as footsteps approached the apartment door from outside. He knew the sound of Grace’s soft but determined gait even before a key slid into the lock, announcing her arrival. She’d been gone for almost two hours. Another two and the sun would finally be gone, and he’d be free to get the hell out of there, back to his business as usual. Seated on the floor with his elbows resting on his knees, his back against the foam-padded wall, he watched as the door opened cautiously and Grace slipped inside. She didn’t seem as eager to singe him with the waning light from the hall; now she was focused on her own movements as if it took most of her concentration just to remove the key and carefully close the door behind her. A lumpy plastic grocery bag swung from her tightly fisted left hand. "Find what you need?" James asked her as she rested for a moment with her forehead pressed against the door. Her weak nod was her only reply. "Another h
James was delighted by the interception, whatever it might prove to gain, but if the Hunters—particularly their commander, Marlon—were expecting the package, then it must be of some importance to them. The question stuck around, why?James pulled the parcel out and sliced open the tape seals with one of the blades at his hip. The return address seemed to be one of those shared-office corporate types. Likely phony at that. His men could verify that fact, but James was betting that Marlon wouldn’t be so careless as to leave a reasonable paper trail.He tipped the box, and the contents—a thin, leather-bound book sealed in bubble wrap—slid into his hand. Skinning the cushioned plastic away from the antique, then frowned, baffled. It was just a featureless, half-empty book. A journal of some kind. Handwritten passages scribbled in what appeared to be a mixture of Latin and German covered a few of the pages; the rest were blank except for crude signs and marks doodled here and there in the
Grace mentally rolled her eyes as she added. “James, whether you approve or not, I am part of this war. I didn’t go looking for it; the Hunters brought it to my door when my supposed father and grandmother died. All I’m asking is that you show me how to be more effective. I should think the Brotherhood would welcome any allies they can get.”“No!” James grumbled.“I can help.”“This isn’t about the Brotherhood and you know it.”“And why is that?”“I can't risk losing you again, Grace.” James murmured, his voice so serious that Grace thought that maybe she misheard him as he continued, “This is about revenge, an eye for an eye. Your emotions have been on a hard boil ever. They are powerful and so many against the brotherhood, against us. I need you alive, not dead.” James’s words cut into her like glass, the reality of what he said like acid poured into the wounds. Or was it concerned?“It’s about justice,” she told him sharply. “I need to make this right! Damn it, James, do I have to
Totally unfazed, James pounced fast and hard on the Hunter he held on the floor, ripping one of his blades across the suckhead's throat. It roared and sputtered under the swift poison of the dagger's titanium edge, oozing gore as its body began a rapid meltdown. It's magic fading."Your turn," James told the other one as it attempted to scramble out of the way.The hunter threw its arm out, swiping at James with its blade. His magic buzzed on his sword, but it was a careless move, even for a hunter. When it had the chance to come at him, it hesitated, started itching to the side, drawing things out. Distracting him, James realized in the next instant when he heard the sudden crash of breaking glass coming from Grace's apartment."Son of a bitch," he growled as the woman's scream shot through the walls.The Hunter chose that second to fly at him, but James was ready for the attack. He leaped out of the suckhead's path, landing in a low crouch behind it and coming up fast with his blade