Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(29)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

“The truth?”

He actually considered her question.

He’d been going along just fine by pretending his abilities were nothing more than a quirk of nature. Like being double jointed or color blind.

Why rock the boat?

Then the realization that if Fane knew he had powers, the boat was not only rocked but in danger of capsizing. He heaved a sigh of resignation.

“Hit me with it.”

“They would already have checked you out and determined you aren’t a threat to yourself or others.”

Oh. He wasn’t dancing for freaking joy that he’d been secretly checked out, but really was it that much different from Internal Affairs?

Besides, if it meant he was going to be left in peace, he’d take it.

“So they’re not going to try and keep me here?” he asked, not about to take anything for granted.

You know, assumptions making asses out of gullible cops.

“Valhalla isn’t a prison.” She paused, clearly realizing she wasn’t being completely honest. “At least it’s not a prison unless you’ve committed some sort of crime.”

He wasn’t going to dig into the justice system set up by the high-bloods. Cops who poked their noses where they didn’t belong soon had them chopped off.

“And they won’t say anything? My chief—”

“Your secret is safe, cop,” she assured him, abruptly yawning as the stressful day caught up with her. “Now can we go to sleep?”

“We can,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

Closing his eyes, Duncan allowed himself to appreciate the simple joy of having Callie in his arms.

It didn’t matter that he was hard and aching with a desire to consume her. Or that her robe rubbed roughly against his bare skin.

The creepy Boggs had warned that Callie was the center of a coming darkness, and whether the doppelganger was the real deal or just a nut-bar, Duncan sensed that this moment of peace was going to be a rare commodity in the future.

He intended to savor every second of holding her close.

Unfortunately, as much as he was enjoying the feel and scent of his beautiful companion, he couldn’t shut off his mind as it shuffled and reshuffled through the implications of his secret no longer being so secret.

Assuming that Callie had fallen asleep, he was caught off guard when her hand lightly brushed over his fingers, still clutching the belt of her robe.

“Duncan?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as a jolt of heat speared through him at her light touch.

“Hmm?” he managed from between clenched teeth.

“What’s bothering you?”

His eyes popped open with surprise. How the hell had she known something was bothering him?

“Are you psychic?”

“Female intuition.”

“Yow.” He grimaced. “Now that I’m all too familiar with. My ma and sisters could sniff out a lie a mile away.”

“Then you know it’s a waste of time to deny that something’s wrong.”

“Not wrong,” he denied.

She squeezed his fingers. “Talk to me, cop.”

Wild horses couldn’t have dragged the question from him if it had come from anyone but this woman.

But Callie was different.

She … understood. In every way.

“Are there other people like me?” He asked the question that had been gnawing at him.

“Soul-gazers?” She seemed startled by his interest. “Of course.”

“Here?”

“Yes.” A short pause. “Do you want to meet them?”

Did he? There was no denying a tiny temptation to actually speak with someone who shared his talents. Perhaps even to discover how to hone it so it would be a more effective tool.

But was he truly prepared to come out of the closet?

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice tight. “Not yet.”

“There’s no need to hurry,” she assured him, her tone distracted, as if she were troubled by a sudden thought. “In fact, it might be better that your gift doesn’t become common knowledge.”

“Why?”

She paused. “It’s just a theory.”

“Tell me.”

“If the necromancer we’re searching for can truly raise the dead then we need to be able to spot them.”

Yeesh. Walking dead? They belonged in B-rated movies. Not shuffling along the streets of Kansas City.

“I would think walking corpses would be a little obvious in a crowd.”

“Not if the magic gives them the appearance of life.”

“Damn.” Duncan scowled. Like the thought of rotting zombies wasn’t bad enough without the possibility that dead people could be waltzing around without anyone knowing. “I suppose I can’t just start shooting people to see if they’re alive or dead.”

“I would prefer you didn’t.” Slowly she turned her head to glance over her shoulder. “There’s an easier way you could help.”

He braced for her answer, already sensing he wasn’t going to like it. “How?”

“A dead person has no soul.”

He studied her pale face in confusion, wondering if she were teasing him.

Then he sucked in a sharp breath.

Of course. He could see the auras that flickered around people.

Which meant if there was no aura, he was seeing a corpse.

“You want me to be a zombie-hunter,” he muttered.

“Who better?”

“Shit.”

Chapter Eleven

Callie wasn’t entirely shocked that she managed to sleep through the night. She’d been on the verge of utter exhaustion, both mentally and physically.

And there was something to be said for having her own private heater to keep her toasty warm.

But she’d been so tense when he’d snuggled in behind her that it seemed difficult to imagine that she could actually relax enough to fall asleep.

Slowly coming awake, she managed to pry open her heavy eyes, surprised to discover the room still shrouded in shadows. Usually she had to set her alarm clock if she wanted to wake up before noon.

So why was she awake at such an ungodly hour?

It took several minutes to realize what had pulled her out of her dreams. Probably because the feel of warm, male lips stroking over the sensitive skin of her neck was precisely what she’d been dreaming about.

Clearly sensing she was awake, Duncan buried his face in the curve of her neck. “Mmm.”

She shivered, but it wasn’t with nerves. After an entire night of erotic dreams, she was no longer tense at the thought of spending a few hours in the arms of this man.