I curse. This is my fault. If I hadn’t been so concerned about Tabby’s feelings—and so obsessed with tasting her—I would have sensed the intruder’s approach sooner.
Now, it might be too late.
Bloody fool! She’s better off without you…
Finally, Tabby finishes buttoning her shirt over her lush breasts and ties off the rest around her still trim waist, stealing back precious seconds. “Hold off the intruder. As long as you can.”
Before I can ask what the devil she thinks she’ll be doing in the meantime, she dashes around the desk and yanks a drawer open, rifling through the contents.
“We don’t have time for this.” I grab her wrist.
She jerks away. “Whoever is coming knows we’re here. We won’t get a second chance to search this office. My father wanted this family tree protected. He died for it,” she reminds me fiercely.
“And you might, too.”
“Stop arguing and go!”
Go? She’s gone mad. “You’re pregnant. If you die, our youngling?—”
“Dies with me, I know! If you’ll help me, perhaps we can prevent that.” She shuts the first drawer as quietly as possible and dives into the second, rifling through one file folder after another.
Stubborn woman. Her plan goes against my every protective instinct, but Tabby is right. Once we leave here, someone—probably the Anarki—will descend. Then whatever her father wanted her to protect will be long gone. And what if he hid something that could turn the tide of this bloody lopsided war?
“Three minutes,” I growl, hating to concede even that long. “If I send up a red spark before then, get the hell out.”
She nods, sparing me one lingering glance. I stare back, fear for her and our youngling thrumming through my veins.
Racing from the office, I creep into the once-bright reception area, staying in the shadows. I glimpse two entrances onto this floor. The door in front of me remains firmly closed. The other lies around the corner, all but a sliver of which lies out of sight.
It’s a calculated risk, but I close my eyes and force myself to focus, filtering through the sounds and scents permeating the building. Searching for the telltale signs of a living presence. Or more than one.
There in the stairwell. I feel a life essence. Strong. Then I hear footsteps, stealthy.
A creaking door a moment later confirms my worst fear. Whoever’s stalking us emerges onto the floor and closes the door soundlessly.
Too late to call for backup now. I have to hope that our surprise visitor can’t sense me waiting and counter my attack.
Otherwise, Tabby and I are dead.
The intruder creeps closer, keeping to the shadows. I catalog all visible details about my foe. Male based on the scent. Sweat hangs in the air. Excited but not nervous. I’d bet my wand he thinks he has us cornered.
Unfortunately, the bastard is probably right.
Twenty meters, fifteen, ten, five. One breath… Now!
I’ll get one clean swipe at this wanker before I lose the element of surprise and the fight is on.
Finally, a tall figure eases around the corner, light on his feet, almost elegant. Poised for battle.
I hurl a spell designed to stun a wizard unconscious.
At the last second, the intruder steps aside with a laugh. “Really? Is that the best you can do?”
Then he turns to face me. My gut plummets to my toes.
Mathias d’Arc.
Bloody hell.
