Page 14 of Gabriel (Legacy of Heathens #4)
Gabriel
S urrounded by bodies and blood-soaked dirt, I stepped closer to the woman who had fascinated me from the moment she started at D’Arc.
Her breaths were still sharp and ragged, blood smearing her cheek. Her hands trembled slightly, but I’d witnessed firsthand how steady and lethal she was when in motion. She was dangerous, not only due to her skills but also because of who she was.
As Killian Cullen and Emory DiLustro’s only child, and adoptive daughter to Liana Volkov, nobody sane would fuck with Amara Cullen.
It was a good thing I wasn’t exactly sane.
We locked eyes, and she stared back at me with that stubborn chin tilted up.
Amara was unlike any woman I’d ever met and had been the subject of my fascination. Or, as she called it, stalking .
Until her cursed brother involved Anya.
“Put the gun down,” I said quietly, careful not to startle her. “We both know you won’t kill me.”
Alas, it wouldn’t be because she valued my life, but rather to avoid a war between our families.
In our world, loyalty was a currency more valuable than gold and as rare as diamonds.
“And I won’t kill you,” I added.
Her eyes narrowed as she lowered her gun, letting it hang by her side. “As if I’d ever have a chance.”
I gestured behind me, back in the direction I’d come from. “We should get going. You’re covered in blood, and if someone shows up, trouble is bound to find you.”
She laughed. “I think it already has.”
I held out a hand, but she looked at it like it was a snake.
“Amara, you need my help. Stop being so damn stubborn and take it. I’m offering you a ride.”
Her eyes flickered between my hand and the jungle around us. “And what else?”
I smiled.
“That’s up to you.” She said nothing, so I added, “Maybe you can tell me why you’re here.”
We both knew she wouldn’t, and I knew it had everything to do with Jet.
She didn’t take my hand but she jerked her chin. “Lead the way, Santos.”
We walked back the way I came, leaving the container and bodies behind us. I already dropped the location to my cleanup team.
“You handled those men very effectively. It was pretty amazing to see.”
“I’m pretty amazing.”
“That you are.” I chuckled. “Although it hasn’t escaped me the way you’re dodging my questions.”
She shot me a sidelong look. “I’m backpacking in the South American jungle. Obviously.”
“Bullshit.”
She tilted her chin in defiance. “It’s not. I’m here, aren’t I? In a jungle that’s in South America.”
I let out a sardonic breath.
“Your dream was to backpack Europe, not South America.” Surprise flashed in her eyes and I smiled smugly. “What? Don’t tell me you’re surprised I know everything about you.”
“You need to find another hobby, Santos,” she muttered, her cheeks staining red, and Amara blushing was a sight to behold.
“You like my attention,” I drawled.
Her stride slowed a bit before she shot me a glare full of defiance and resumed walking.
“I detest your attention,” she grumbled.
“Let’s agree to disagree,” I purred, then decided to cut straight to it. “Are you here for your stepbrother?”
This time her stride didn’t pause and her breathing remained unchanged, but a flicker of darkness passed across her expression.
“You ask too many questions, Santos.”
“Why aren’t Satan’s twins with you, protecting you?” She didn’t answer, and I didn’t think mentioning that I knew Elira was back on her yacht would win me any points. “You know, whatever you’re doing… I can help,” I offered. “Two heads are better than one.”
She scoffed. “Depends on what two heads we’re talking about.”
Amara had such a fucking knack for insults. I’d be offended if I weren’t so fascinated with her.
“You look like you need some sleep, preciosa ,” I drawled. “We could get some rest together.”
“Aren’t you scared of being killed in your sleep?” she asked.
“As long as you’re the one doing the killing, no.”
We walked toward the road, two shadows drawn into the same endless game of cat and mouse we’d been playing for years. It was a dance we knew by heart.