Eternal Sin

keeping Petra and the balas by his side? Not so much.

“Just let me know when you’re hungry, love,” he called before closing the door and heading for his study.

* * *

“Now they’re both gone!”

After finding the caves empty, Phane and Dani had flown the party back to the lion shifter’s land. While the Romans searched the river cabin, Phane, Helo, Dillon, and Wen returned to the family home.

“The bastard took her somewhere,” Dani said, bursting through the front door. “I know it.”

“Why would he do that?” Phane asked, following her. “He’s only wanted to get away from her.”

“I don’t know.” She charged into the first bedroom, nose lifted, eyes narrowed. “Who can explain asshole?”

Phane heard Helo chuckle from the room next door.

Once the house was searched, they all met up in the living area. Everyone except Wen. The older female had told them she was going to contact the faction leaders, let them know the situation. But Phane wondered if she truly just needed a moment alone. She’d looked stricken after leaving the caves.

Hands on her hips, Dani surveyed them all expectantly. “Well? What’re we going to do? Where are we going to look first?”

“We should split up,” Helo said. “Take different sections of the forest.”

Once again, the door opened and both the Romans and Petra’s brothers entered the house.

“Nothing at the river cabin,” Nicholas said. “But Lucian stayed behind just in case they show up.”

Dani nodded. “Good.” She turned to Sasha and Val. “What about you two?”

“We’re going to search on foot,” Sasha said. “Ask every shifter we come across if they’ve seen either one of them.”

“I’ll take the sky,” Dani said. She glanced at Phane. “I could use some help up there. You interested?”

Phane’s hawk stirred. “Very interested.”

“I need to buy time with the Order,” Dillon said. “Cruen’s disappeared. He wasn’t in the caves with us. I lost track of him. That’s not going to go over well. Especially if he’s back, standing before Feeyan and telling her that two Purebloods are missing on shifter land.”

“We’ll help with ground cover,” Alex said, “then flash into Manhattan when it gets dark. Check out the penthouse.”

Dani smirked. “He wouldn’t take her there. Not to his den of—”

“Wait!”

Wen came into the room. She looked disheveled, wide-eyed, but the fear in her expression had dimmed somewhat. “She’s not here, not in the Rain Forest. She’s with him. He took her—”

“Unfuckingbelievable!” Dani called out. She headed for the door. “I’m out of here. I’m going to kick some douchy vampire ass!”

“No, Dani,” Wen said, going after her. “Stop. She doesn’t want us to come.”

With a low growl, Dani turned to face Petra’s mother. “Wen, that’s the douchy vampire talking, not Pets.”

The older female shook her head. “I heard the truth in her voice. She’s agreed to stay with him.”

Dani shook her head. “No.”

“I know my daughter.”

Dani stared hard at the female. “Goddamn it.” She turned away, then back. “Why? Why would she be so freaking stupid? He’s a jerk. He’s a whore. He’s a—”

“He’s got the blood,” Phane said simply.

The female whirled on him, her eyes narrowed. She sidled up to him, her finger pointed in his face. The heat coming off of her was so damn intense, Phane nearly reached out to grab her. But Dillon’s words stopped him.

“This changes everything, you know?” The jaguar shifter sighed as she headed for the door. “God, I hate this job.”

“Yes,” Dani called after her, turning away from Phane. “Go appease the vampire Order. But what about us? What about the shifters? One of ours has been taken now. From shifter land to bloodsucker territory. Maybe we’re the ones who’ll have to infiltrate to get her back.”

“She’s not yours,” Phane said, watching her, admiring the passion in her. Her ferocity, her loyalty, made his hawk scratch and stir. “She’s not shifter.”

“This is none of your business,” she warned him. “My best friend is out there, pregnant and with a male who doesn’t truly care for her. I don’t know why she’s agreeing to this—if it’s really about blood or something far more problematic—but I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

* * *

Petra woke feeling groggy, emotional, and hungry. She lay on top of the covers in the bed she had agreed to sleep in every night until the balas arrived.

She blinked and rolled to her other side. The room was dimly lit, but she could make out the dark gray walls, stark white molding, expensive leather chairs, antique dresser, and the door to her own private bath, well enough. She’d already been in the bathroom. Massive stone shower, white towels everywhere, and a whirlpool tub. It was like a fancy hotel. Not that she’d been in all that many fancy hotels during the months in New York, when she was looking for Cruen, but the one she had been in reminded her an awful lot of this one.

A wave of melancholy moved over her and she moaned against it, then took a deep breath into her lungs.

She didn’t want that back. The intense, overwhelming wave of feeling. The pain. The tears she couldn’t control no matter how hard she tried. She looked over at the closed door. Where was he? Her sexy prick of a blood donor. His bedroom? The living room? If she called to him, how fast would he be at her side?

She moaned again. Not from the emotional waves crashing through her this time, but from the foolishness of her thoughts. If she dared to attach romance or sensuality or connection to this agreement, she was basically inviting him to hurt her again. What she needed to keep in the forefront of her mind at all times was that he didn’t want her in the way she deserved to be wanted.

It was as simple as that.

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed, wondered what time it was as she padded across the room and opened the door. There wasn’t a clock in her room, and with all the shading to keep the sunlight out, not to mention the time difference, she was a bit turned around.

Silence greeted her as she headed down the hall and entered the living area. She couldn’t help but look around at all the beautiful, yet starkly cold furnishings. Even with the warm light of three or four table lamps, the emotionless space felt dead. The walls, though painted a rich cocoa, were bare, except for one near the kitchen. On it were six gigantic slabs of pointed metal. They look like fangs, she thought.

She moved toward it, feeling both intrigued and intimidated by its audacity. Why this piece? she wondered, following it past the kitchen and down another hallway. When all the other walls lay bare, why such a blatant scream of ferocity? Looking closely, she saw that the final shard of metal was the color of caramel and longer than the others. She reached out to touch it, then hissed as her skin met the surface.

“Not what you’d expect, is it?” Synjon said, coming up behind her.

Instantly, her body reacted to his nearness: fangs down, skin going tight, breath hitching in her lungs. Damn it. This was not a good start to her plan for keeping herself detached.

“It’s hot,” she said, touching the metal again.

“Yes.”

“I thought it’d be cold. Metal is supposed to be cold.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s a lesson in quick judgment. A cautionary moral.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover?” she said.

“Exactly.”

She turned around to face him, bracing herself for the heat of his stare, the strength of his presence. But he was no longer behind her. For a second, she wondered if he’d been there at all. Then he called out to her from another room, “Hungry, love?”