Page 89 of The Reaper's Vow

Gabriel makes a noncommittal grunt, positioning himself near the entrance where he can monitor both the door and the main floor below. “Plans change when jealous mates see other men looking at what's theirs.”

I'm about to respond when that familiar pressure blooms in my mind again, stronger this time. More urgent.

He's here. Lockhart just walked in.

I thought you were coming after Lockhart showed up.

My pulse spikes instantly, and I grip the arm of the couch to keep my hands steady.

I told you I’d keep you safe, kitten. I can’t do that if I’m not here. He won’t see me coming until it’s too late.

Gabriel's phone buzzes, and he glances at it before moving closer to me. He pulls a tiny spray bottle from his pocket, handing it to me. “Heat pheromones. Spray it all over you, and the couch.”

I take it from his hand, and press down on the top, spiritizing the liquid onto my wrist. The acrid smell makes me recoil. “This smells like piss.”

“Not to males. Now spray it and give me back the bottle once it’s empty. We don’t have much time.”

I do as Gabriel requests, spraying the foul scent all over me, taking extra care to spray my neck. With the remaining two pumps, I spritz the couch before handing him the bottle back.”

“It reeks in here,” I almost gag.

“That’s the point.”

I take a deep breath, stowing the growing need to vomit down as much as I can, and shift my weight on the leather couch. The harness straps dig slightly into my skin as I adjust my posture, attempting to channel whatever femme fatale energy I can muster.

Damien’s reassuring voice speaks down our bond.You can do this, kitten. This will all be over soon enough.

I've never been bait before. Never faced down an alpha who's already proven how dangerous he is. The memory of Lockhart's hands on me, my first time coming to this very club, makes my skin crawl, but I can’t let that happen. Tonight is about ending this once and for all.

He's coming up the stairs now.

I swallow hard, my fingers nervously tracing the straps across my collarbone.Where are you exactly?I project back, unable to stop myself from scanning the room again.

Close enough to rip his throat out if he tries anything.

Gabriel shifts his stance, one hand casually drifting toward what I suspect is a concealed weapon.

“Showtime,” Gabriel mutters under his breath, nodding toward the entrance.

I hear footsteps outside the door and then the metallic click of the handle turning. My breath catches in my throat as the door swings open.

Thomas Lockhart strides in like he owns the air itself, his broad frame blotting out the doorway. The black mask does little to disguise him. I would know that cruel smirk in a crowd of thousands. His attention lands on me instantly, dragging over every inch of bare skin with a hunger that makes my stomach knot.

“Well, well,” he purrs, closing the door with a soft click that feels louder than a gunshot. “Karina Greene. What a pleasant surprise.”

I shift deliberately, crossing one leg over the other. His focus follows the motion. “Is it really a surprise,” I counter, “when you’ve been hunting me?”

“Hunting,” he repeats with mock disapproval. “Such an ugly word. I prefer…pursuing.” He advances a step at a time, deliberate as a stalking predator. “Though I didn’t expect to find you here alone. Dressed like that and smelling so divine.”

Gabriel shifts subtly at my side, drawing his attention for a fleeting second. Maybe he was right about the pheromones after all.

“Your watchdog can leave,” Lockhart says, not even bothering to face him. “We have private matters to discuss.”

I force stillness into my body, keep my pulse from betraying me. “He stays.”

Lockhart’s jaw works, irritation darkening his features. “So demanding, Karina. All I want to do is talk about our future.”

“Future? You presume too much, Thomas. I know who I am now, and with that knowledge, it means I have my pick for a mate.”