The third scent was less familiar, but not unknown. He considered it a moment longer and realized it was the warrior Dragan. He’d encountered the winged freak on the battlefields of their old world, which accounted for its sense of familiarity. But the scent had changed in this world. He frowned a moment, noted the mingling the warrior’s scent with. . . . He barked a laugh. They were fucking. The pale little thing was a far cry from Dragan’s usual fare, but after all those years, a man took what he could. Or maybe he’d seduced her into betraying him.
But his rage over that was nothing compared to what he found when he turned down the short hallway to his workroom. He could see, even before he reached the door, that not only had it been destroyed, but Katsaros had pulled shut the remnants of it, as if to taunt him with the failure of his wards.
He pushed the door open and gave a furious roar threaded with so much magic that everything in the small workroom rattled and shook, as if tossed in a vicious wind. A few things crashed to the floor, adding to the destruction. But it hardly mattered. Because the room and all its contents were dead. Everything damn thing in his workroom had been drained of magic, as useless as a fisherwoman’s kitchen. He closed his eyes, struggling for control, then opened them again and strode directly to his work bench. He wasn’t surprised to see that his enemy had stolen every bit of material related to the construction of his device. He probably hoped to discover how it worked, and what it could do. By now, he’d know it was a reservoir of power, whether Dragan had told him of his taunts when he’d still been imprisoned, or because the Mexican vampires had whined about him stealing the lives of their masters. Damn vampires were much more connected than they used to be. Once he’d succeeded in eliminating Katsaros, maybe he’d take out a few troublesome vampire lords.
That was a sweet thought, but not enough to take his mind away from the utter destruction surrounding him. Just as the penthouse had been his main residence, this workroom had been his haven—the place where he conjured his best spells and created his most vicious schemes. It was useless now. It would take years to deaden the space, to nullify not only the remaining wisps of his own power, but to cleanse every last bit of Katsaros’s destruction. The remaining spell ingredients were fit only for the trash heap. He could resurrect the books, at least. But it would take years for them to absorb the magical fullness they’d lost. Decades even.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. He’d have to sell the penthouse and start over somewhere else, now that Katsaros knew of it. The only bright spot was that his enemy hadn’t managed to grab the device itself, because it had been with him, as he’d flown home from Mexico.
Everything wasn’t lost. He had the device, he knew it worked, and he knew where he’d be testing it.
He stood in the rubble of his workroom and smiled. “Get ready, Nicodemus Katsaros,” he muttered. “Payback is coming sooner than you think.”
DRAGAN TURNED INTO the hotel parking lot, wondering if he was going to be carrying Maeve up to their room. She’d fallen soundly asleep soon after they left Nico’s house. But the minute he pulled into a parking space and stopped the car, she sat up as abruptly as if an alarm had gone off. She turned to stare at him, appearing adorably owlish as she blinked in confusion, before awareness came back to her eyes.
Gazing around, she said, “We’re here.”
“We are. And without a bit of trauma, too.”
“Ha ha.” She yawned hugely. “Can you carry me to the room?”
“Sure.”
She smiled. “You would, too. Fortunately, there’s an elevator.”
He shrugged and opened the SUV’s door. “It’s only five floors, sweet. And you’re a wee bit of a thing.”
“I am not a wee bit. I’m petite. It’s fashionable.”
He was at her open door by then. “As you say. I’ll take that.” He reached for the canvas case which held her computer and files, and knew she was truly weary when she let him take those away from her. Sliding the strap over one shoulder, he held out his other hand, wanting to be sure she didn’t stumble.
“I’m okay. Just tired. I’m not used to breaking and entering, and flying through the night in a gorgeous man’s arms.”
“I would hope not.” He kept his arm around her waist, worried she’d fall over, and even took the elevator, though he didn’t enjoy it.
As the room door closed behind them, he asked, “Bath or shower?”
“Shower. I might fall asleep and drown in the bath.”
He laughed. “As if I’d ever let that happen.”
She rolled her eyes at the same moment she cracked another huge yawn and stumbled into the wall. She shot a quick glance his way, checking to see if he’d noticed, but he pretended to be occupied with placing her computer case on the small table. His peripheral vision was far superior to a regular human’s, far better than she knew. He didn’t need to be staring at her directly, to keep watch on her.
He walked ahead of her and turned on the hot water in the shower, having learned that she liked to fill the room with steam before stepping under the spray. As he turned from closing the glass door, he saw that she was standing in the doorway, stripping off her clothes and dropping them onto the closet floor across the hall. He stood there for a moment, admiring her strong, lithe form, her breasts heavy on her narrow torso, her hips slender as a boy’s. She was utterly unlike the women he’d grown up with, and yet, she was perfect for him.
She glanced up, saw him watching, and blushed, the color traveling from her cheeks to her chest, tightening her nipples in a way that had him growling with hunger as he reached for her. Pulling her against him as he brought her to her toes, he kissed her thoroughly, trying to put everything he felt for her into the sweep of his tongue, the press of his lips, his arms as they held her close. “Mae,” he whispered. “My Mae.”
She kissed him back as furiously, her arms tight around his neck as she strained against him. Until she seemed to realize she was naked, while he was fully clothed. “Hey. You have clothes on.”
He grinned. “Would you rather I go about naked?”
“Yes. At least when we’re alone,” she added.
“My lady’s wish is my command.” He reached over his head and grabbed the back of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head as he bent over to untie and step out of his boots. A moment later, he’d stripped off his jeans and underwear, and had her against his chest once more, enjoying the slide of her silky skin against his. “Come on, sweet.” Opening the door, he lifted her off her feet and walked into the shower, careful to place his back against the pounding hot water.