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Chapter Twelve

“Why are your eyes gold?”

The question hit him like a kick to the gut, and Niko vaulted away from her like she was deadly poison.

He hadn’t even noticed when his magic had dissolved the cursed contacts.

There was no way he could contain the change now—especially seeing that they were halfway around the world, and he didn’t have another pair handy.

He cursed himself for his own foolishness.

Had he known she would kiss him, urging on his own desire, he would’ve kept tighter control of his elemental magic. But when his attention slipped—moved to something far more interesting—he’d lost his precarious hold on it.

Languages, business acumen, fighting: many things inherently came easy to him. Containing his magic was not one of those things. His careless slip could very well cost him his life. Few remembered who he’d been, and it was imperative no one drew the connection.

“Niko?”

Her voice was soft and full of worry, and she reached out to touch his shoulder and turn him around. Behind her frown, Jade’s keen mind worked.

“Which one is the lie?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Jade.” Niko was failing to defuse the situation, and the anxiety of it all itched across his skin.

“Why do you hide your eye color?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

But his pasted-on smile didn’t reach his eyes, and it’d never felt more false. He straightened, desperate to change the subject. Glancing around the clearing, he asked the most logical question.

“Did your cat enjoy the snow?”

He silently beseeched her to take the bait. And she did, but not without a speculative sigh.

“Yes, thank you.” Then, finally releasing him from her gaze, she looked out over the water. “Where are we?”

“Alaska.”

Her entire body jolted as if struck by lightning. “Alaska?! You phased us all the way to Alaska? Do you have a rogue wish?”

“Neither of us are susceptible yet, dove,” he replied. “Give it a century or so, and I’ll worry about corrosion. As it stands, I think our trip was well worth it. Don’t you agree?”

A hint of giddiness turned her joy almost childlike. “Yes.”

“Good. Are you ready to return to Chicago, or would you prefer to play a bit longer?” Aiming a seductive smirk her way, he could have been speaking of the snow or the kiss. Jade blushed.

“I’m happy to return, if you’d be so kind.”

When she playfully batted her lashes at him, he chuckled and reached for her—pausing when he sensed the telepathic page. Instantly, Niko opened his mind to Asher’s familiar connection.

What do you need?

Niko. The other immortal’s voice flowed into his head like rushing water, soothing but strong. Can you take out a nest near Chicago? I’m on my way to another.

Asher’s dislike for entering Julian’s territory went unspoken—with good reason. He tended to minimalize any time he spent there, and clearing a nest took far too long.

How many?

Five, potentially six. Icarus wasn’t specific on the details. A trace of amusement, minimal but definitely there, tinged Asher’s mental voice.

Yes, I’ll go — can you send coordinates?

Doing so now. Call if you need assistance.

Without giving Niko a chance to respond, Asher’s presence receded from his mind, and his attention returned to the woman before him. Inquisitiveness splashed across her face.

“I’m unfortunately needed elsewhere,” he said. “I’ll drop you off at home first.”

“Where are you off to?”

“I have a nest of rogues with my name on it.” At her look of confusion, he clarified. “I’m a Sentinel for the crown. Asher’s backup.”

She merely nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

He stared at her in obvious disbelief. “I have a nest of rogues. Five or six that need to be dispatched. I can’t just bring you along—this isn’t a field trip.”

Staunch determination slitted her eyes. “I’m handy with a blade, Niko; I can hold my own.”

And just like that, she’d donned lightweight battle armor that’d clearly seen more than shelf use. Grinning, Niko phased his own onto his frame, rolling his shoulders in preparation while he felt the cool steel of a silver blade in his palm.

“Aim for the head,” he instructed, gathering his energy around him. “They’re violent, thirsty for blood, and will happily spill yours should they have the chance. Just make sure you stay safe.”

Before he could think better of it, Niko stepped into her personal space and kissed her.

He delighted in every second of it, completely unrepentant. Just as she lost the surprised stiffness in her body, he forced himself to retreat and phased them to the coordinates Asher had sent.

Weightless for two seconds tops, the pair solidified outside a dilapidated shanty long-since removed from civilization.

Derelict, it barely resisted the wind that shuddered through its frame.

The twelve-foot by twelve-foot shed was hemmed in by pine trees and thick underbrush with one well-trampled exit nearby.

During the daylight hours, rogues typically slept, feeding the Hollywood vampire stereotypes. At dusk, they tended to become active once more, searching endlessly to fill the gaping hole of magical energy within them.

Rogues were the worst of what a Sagani could become. Having lost their ability to function with higher reasoning, they couldn’t speak, were always hungry, and driven only by violence. The only ones safe from their rage were other rogues, and that was why they tended to nest together in packs.

Niko jumped into action. It was better to attack rogues before they were fully awake. Jade followed his lead and kept at his flank.

Rotting meat and the iron-rich tang of blood hit Niko as soon as he passed through the door. A dark, damp interior greeted them, followed immediately by the sound of a rogue’s howl.

The blood-curdling screams didn’t drive fear into him any longer. He was far too experienced for that. But his adrenaline did surge at the tight interior—he’d never appreciated cramped spaces, and rogues nearly always loved them.

Instead of dwelling on it, he drove into the darkness, his sword gleaming as it aimed for the first rogue to scramble to its feet.

There was a dull thunk as its head separated from its body and fell to the floor. A group of irate rogues lurched to their feet in response. Two of them rushed toward him, intent on sinking their fangs into his flesh, but Niko whirled and skewered one upon his sword in the same moment.

The second leapt away as the blade swung within inches of the rogue’s neck, veering close to the blonde-haired warrior who’d accompanied him.

Jade’s reaction time was quicker than his. Leaping apart, she locked sights on the one that’d gotten away from Niko and her sword aimed true.

Three down, three to go.

As Niko turned to shove off the rogue aiming for his jugular, he caught sight of Jade. Flowing like water above ground, her brilliantly choreographed bladework was both graceful and highly accurate.

So many of their breed believed magical strength was of the highest importance in combat. Speed and agility mattered far more in a Sentinel’s line of work.

Jade was a natural-born Sentinel fighter.

Niko didn’t even realize he’d broken the first rule of rogue combat: don’t take your eyes off your enemy.

The rogue he’d spun away from snarled and lunged.

A fraction of a second too slow, he brought up an armored arm to defend his throat.

Instead of hitting the reinforced guard, it hit an unprotected portion of his bicep.

The rogue’s incisors caught in the muscle, puncturing deeply and wrenching outward.

Sharp pain was accompanied by his own grunt—more with displeasure at himself than actual injury. His sword sliced cleanly through the rogue’s neck before he located the last one still standing.

Jade cut it down before he had a chance to approach.

Job completed. Niko cast a grim eye around the shed as the first flares of fatigue began to make themselves known. He recognized none of the six rogues dead at their hands. Occasionally, he’d know a face, but it was typically Asher who knew the decayed.

They left the confines of the shed, both Niko and Jade keen to evacuate the acrid interior. Though a pulse of blood trickled down his arm, his first comment was one of praise.

“You have skill with a blade. Who taught you? Julian?”

A look of incredulity broke her poise. “Heavens no. Julian has much more important things to do than teach me bladework. If he has a free moment, he’s with his lieutenants or the Anchoria. ”

Niko didn’t find that surprising. With the Anchoria functioning as the only means of salvation for their race, they were often kept under lock and key.

Instead of holding them on a pedestal and protecting them like the priceless treasure they were, Julian had made a mockery of their value to the species.

The Anchoria’s greatest gift—restoring magical balance—could only be given once every five to ten years.

The fertility they could induce followed a strict schedule, and was bestowed to Julian’s followers when they pleased him.

Niko was sickened by what the First Legion prime had done to those women.

Once venerated among the Sagani, Julian had exploited them, forcing them to stretch too thin to adequately recover. Too many had died as a result of his callous cruelty, and the few that were left were running dangerously dry.

Their race was dying, and one man was abusing the vulnerable to the end.

Eager to be off the subject, he shifted his attention downward, openly studying her blade. Reiterating his question, he asked, “Did you pick up the blade by yourself?”

“No, Azrael taught me.”

It was Niko’s turn to be surprised. “The Reaper?”

His reaction must have made her feel like she needed to defend her unlikely teacher. “He’s a good man.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

The look of shocked incredulity on his face told Jade he was worried for her mental health.