Saul Libscombe sat across the room and behind a low counter of what looked like opals. “I commend you for coming alone.”
“You didn’t give me a choice.” She jumped when a man stepped out from the shadows behind her, slapping him when he tried to frisk her. “I’m not stupid enough to bring either flash drive.” The goon gave up, and after Saul nodded, he walked around the counter and went through a door to the back room.
Saul stood about six feet tall, with light brown hair and stark blue eyes. He was fit and strong at about five centuries old, and he dressed like he enjoyed luxury in designer pants and a perfectly pressed silk shirt. His watch was a Rolex that wouldn’t be released to humans for at least a year. “Where’s the Benjamin file?” he asked, his gaze sharp.
“Where’s my father?” she returned, holding her ground. There were counters of jewels all around her, but all she wanted was her da.
Saul let out a low whistle, and the goon from earlier shoved out her father.
“Da!” she cried out, rushing for him.
He enfolded her in a huge hug, smelling like peppermint and bourbon. His normal smell. “Ah, my girl. How I’ve missed you.”
She leaned back. At nine centuries old, Elroy O’Toole was one handsome man. Blue eyes, blond hair, and sharp features. Like her. She checked him over, noting a scarf over his neck. Oh God. She grabbed for it, revealing a planekite collar. No wonder he hadn’t been able to escape. She’d thought about it, but she hadn’t wanted to really consider the possibility. “Oh, Da.”
He hugged her again. “Hasn’t been so bad. Only a decade, really. I’ve been worried about you.” He smoothed back her hair.
She forced a smile. “I’ve been fine.”
He paused, studying her. “Something’s different.” His eyes widened. “Oh, my.”
“Aye,” she murmured, knowing he could sense the mating. “You always did like Theo, remember?”
Her da slowly nodded. “’Tis true. I did.”
That was good, at least. “Where have you been? I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Moving around quite a bit,” her da said wearily. “Ready to get this collar off.”
Saul lifted a remote control in his hand. “Last chance, Ginny. Give me the location of the Benjamin file or I press the button. You both die.”
She turned to face him, wanting nothing more than to be able to throw fire again. Wait a minute. She’d mated. Truth be told, she did feel stronger. A little. There was only one chance, but she’d take it. “I have it.” Stepping away from her father, she made her way toward Saul. “The second you release these collars, I’ll hand it over.”
“No,” Saul said. “Collars stay on, but I won’t kill you. That’s a good bargain. Take it.”
She stood a foot away from him. The room had an odd lemon minty smell. Probably something Christmas related. “You’ve kept me enslaved for a decade. Do you really think you’ll ever be safe from me?”
He smiled, revealing a crooked front tooth as he lifted the controller. “Aye. I truly do.”
She drew deep, going for power, thinking of Theo. His strength, his humor, his passion. That lived in her now. She only needed a little. Just a little. “All right.” Her shoulders slumping, she batted her eyelashes and looked fragile. Beaten. Weak.
Saul lowered his hand.
She shuddered hard and reached inside her coat. Theo. Power. Love. “I can throw fire now.” Power flushed through her on the thought, and she drew out her hand, throwing her hand toward him.
Nothing happened, but the bluff worked. He yelped and jumped out of the way, not realizing there was no fire until he was already in motion. In one smooth movement, she planted her hands on the counter and flipped over, catching the controller with her ankles. Then she swung around, hit the ground, and kept rolling, coming up in front of her dad.
Saul bellowed and quickly lifted a green gun to point at her. The kind that shot lasers that turned to lead in immortals. Shit.
Her dad held out his hands. “Enough, Saul. Enough.”
Saul fired, and the impact hit Elroy in the chest, throwing him back into the wall. He pushed Ginny out of the way as he fell. She glanced frantically at the controller. It had three green buttons. What the hell?
Saul laughed and moved toward her.
Her father struggled to a seated position, blood pouring from a wound near his neck.
“Heal that,” she hissed. Oh, she was going to fight. She lifted her hand and nothing happened. Fire sputtered for just a second. Wow. But that was it. No more fire. Damn it. That was all she had for the moment. She backed away, holding the controller. Saul came nearer, and she leaped up, kicking him beneath the chin. His jaw cracked. He stumbled back, his arms windmilling, fury in his holler.
