On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(36)
Author: Gena Showalter

Only one way to find out.

A sound of cracking ice came from behind him. Instincts as deeply a part of him as his own bones rose up, shouting a warning.

Neal ripped himself away from Viviana, drawing his sword as he moved. A dump truck full of agony unloaded on his head, tearing a pained cry from his throat.

He fought the need to double over, gritting his teeth to stay standing. The tip of his sword trembled, but he kept it up.

"What is it?" asked Viviana, her voice tight with sudden fear.

"Heard something."

Slowly, the pain receded until it was no longer draining him of strength. It still pounded through him, but now it was at the level where it was just pissing him off.

He searched the area, channeling tiny motes of power to his eyes so he could see through the murky darkness.

Nothing. No movement, no glowing eyes, nothing but the white landscape and the muted silence of snowfall.

"I guess it was just a tree branch cracking in the wind," he said. His instincts weren’t usually so faulty, but he had been more than a bit distracted a few seconds ago. "We should go inside."

Where he could protect her better if the shit did hit the fan.

He turned around just in time to see her pull her skirt back down, giving him only the briefest of glimpses of black silk stockings against pale, smooth skin.

Her mouth was red, and a few strands of hair had escaped her spinsterish bun. He could see her rapid pulse shimmering in the fabric covering her br**sts. Her ni**les were still hard, making Neal’s mouth water.

He promised himself they’d get back here—to where her mouth was on his and he could feell the damp heat between her thighs against his fly. They’d get back to that moment, and when they did, he wasn’t going to stop until she lay hot and sated beneath him.

Maybe not even then.

Unfortunately, business came first. Once they got the gadget, he’d take her back to Dabyr, where he could take his time with her. Linger. He definitely wanted to linger over the lovely Viviana Rowan. No question there.

Being careful not to touch her skin, he zipped his jacket up over her to keep her warm. The thing was way too big, falling over her hands, but it would work until they could find something that fit her better. And if any demons came their way, the magically enhanced leather would provide her with at least a little protection.

Once she was bundled and warm, he turned his attention back to the job at hand.

Professor Reynolds lived in an old farmhouse in the country, with only a few neighbors visible in the distance. Round bales of hay dotted the surrounding land, their tops covered in the accumulating snow. Everything was white and pristine, including the sidewalk leading up to the professor’s front door.

Neal helped Viviana traverse the slippery sidewalk in her high heels. She rang the bell. Neal looked up at the house, but no lights came on.

"Maybe he’s a heavy sleeper."

She rang again. And again.

A bad feeling started to creep up Neal’s spine. "Could he be out of town?"

"I talked to him earlier today. He didn’t mention anything like that."

Neal reached for the knob. It turned easily. "Unlocked."

"Not much need for locks out here. The professor likes it because it’s quiet and he can work without interruption."

The house was dark. Neal stepped inside, drawing his sword. Just in case. "Stay behind me."

The foul smell of sewage filled the air, and beneath that was a musty animal smell. Synestryn.

They’d been here.

There were stairs leading up on his left and three doors exiting the entryway.

"His study is to the right," whispered Viviana. He could hear the fear in her voice, the worry. As much as he wanted to comfort her, now was not the time.

Neal peered through the doorway she indicated. Snow had made it bright outside, and some of Neal peered through the doorway she indicated. Snow had made it bright outside, and some of that light streamed in from a window behind a huge desk. A man was slumped over the desk, lying at an odd angle.

Neal hoped the man was just asleep, but he doubted they’d get that lucky.

He stepped inside the door and positioned Viviana with her back to the wall. As he moved, he inadvertently cleared the path for her to see the professor. She let out a frightened gasp and started to move toward him. Neal grabbed her arm and pushed her back. "Stay here. I’ll check him out."

"Something’s wrong with him, isn’t it?"

Neal didn’t reply. He crept forward, keeping his eyes open for signs of movement. Some of the Synestryn were small and he didn’t want any of them getting near Viviana.

A cold tendrill of wind wrapped around Neal’s legs, and as he stepped forward, he could see the window had been broken out, leaving a gaping, bloody hole. He could also see that the bottom half of the professor’s body was missing. The top half was lying on the desk and blood dripped down onto the leather office chair.

"Oh God," breathed Viviana. She was right next to him now, staring in horror at her friend’s remains. She stepped forward, but Neal caught her before she could get too close.

"There’s nothing you can do for him. We need to get the gadget and go." Before the Synestryn found them, too. "Where would he have kept it?"

Her eyes were brimming with tears, and the tendons in her neck were standing out as she struggled not to cry. "We need to call the police. Find the person who did this."

"It wasn’t a person. It was a demon, like those that came for you tonight. If we call the police, chances are we’ll just get them killed, too. We need to focus."

She was staring at the body, her eyes wide, her chin quivering.

Neal moved to block out the sight of her dead friend. He cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up to look at him. Her skin was so soft and warm under his fingers. He felt delicate sparks of energy jumping from him into her, making his palms tingle. "I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish we’d gotten here sooner."

"He was a sweet old man. Why would anyone do this?"

Good question. Clearly the man wasn’t blooded, or they’d have taken the whole body and not left a pooll of blood lying wasted on the floor. Synestryn fed on traces of ancient blood running through certain humans. They used it to fuel their magic, but this man hadn’t been kill ed for that, which left only one reason. "He had something they wanted."

"The artifact he was studying for me?"

Neal figured it would crush her to think she’d been the cause of her friend’s death. "We can’t know for sure. What I do know is that we need to find it."

She sniffed and nodded. Her eyes closed and he felt the strangest sensation vibrate in the air between them. It was almost as if she were pulling on those sparks he kept giving off—like they were iron filings and she was a magnet.