Logan shook his head and loped into a jog. “I don’t care about the secrecy of the Seven. If they broke laws years ago, they can face the consequences.” Oh, they’d definitely broken laws, and he wasn’t sure they shouldn’t pay for them. They’d done the unthinkable to create their shields.
“I’m one of the Seven now,” Garrett reminded him grimly.
“You weren’t there when the laws were broken.” Logan shoved past a pine tree. He had to hurry, damn it.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m one of them now,” Garrett said quietly.
Logan stumbled and righted himself. Caution rippled through him. He sighed. If he survived the ritual, he’d be held accountable as well. “Then I can’t bring the demon nation into a war right now.” Not unless he had to. Damn it.
“Yep,” Garrett said, grunting.
The weight of the universe settled on Logan’s shoulders. He had to save Sam, and he couldn’t ask Garrett to go. It looked like he was going to have to trust the Seven, whether he wanted to or not.
He had to remain on the inside to protect his niece. No matter what.
* * * *
The breeze slid cold over the ocean and froze her toes on the rough dock. Mercy stared at the huge Viking as Logan disappeared. “He is going to be so furious about that,” she said.
Ivar nodded. “Yep.” He looked around them. “You can teleport?”
She nodded. “Yes. I was tased and have lost the ability for a short time. Could you take me home, now?” While she really didn’t want to go through the darkness of a teleport she couldn’t control, there was no more time to waste. She had to get to Niall and the president to talk some sense into them.
“Sure.” The Viking slipped an arm around her waist, and the world dropped away.
They landed in a small apartment with slight traffic sounds outside. The ride was fairly smooth. It was dark again in Scotland. She kept chasing the night and missing entire days. She stepped away from him. “Where are we?”
“Safe house.” The small living room sat adjacent to a compact kitchen. He pointed to the one bedroom with its door open. “There should be some clothing in the closet that might fit you. Take a quick shower, get dressed, and we’ll come up with a game plan.”
Her game plan was to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.
His smile, although charming, held a world of threat. “We’re on the fourth floor, and I’ve never been considered a patient male. I understand you’re Logan’s mate, but—”
“I am not Logan’s mate,” she said through clenched teeth. “That marking will disappear.” Her stomach went all floppy, and her face filled with heat. She turned and stomped through the door to the bedroom, clutching the ragged shirt around her with as much dignity as she could find.
“Right,” Ivar said softly.
What a jerk. So far, demon-vampire hybrids were not her favorite people. Logan’smate.Just because some marking had appeared on his hand. Sure, she was attracted to him. A statue would be attracted to Logan Kyllwood. The guy was all hard planes, tough muscle, and sweet talk. But he was also a killer.
A chilling one.
If her people and the demons went to war, he’d be a formidable enemy. She couldn’t forget that fact. Ever.
Maybe she should’ve tried harder to convince him to stay away from the Seven. He wasn’t a member yet. Perhaps if the science was explained to him, by somebody who actually understood it all, then he’d be reasonable.
She walked into a tidy bathroom and within seconds stood under a steaming-hot shower. She moaned into the steam, and she didn’t care. Finally, warmth. The pure bliss of the moment couldn’t be denied. For five minutes, she washed her hair and body, forgetting about the world.
It was heavenly.
Regretfully, she exited the shower, dried off, and found new toiletries in the cupboard. After taking care of business and even swiping lip gloss across her mouth, she studied the twin bite marks on her neck. They’d already faded, but not enough. There wasn’t any concealer in the bag. Biting her lip, she moved into the bedroom and scoured the maple dresser for clothing. There was a jumble of different colors and sizes of female clothing and even sexy lingerie sets still in the wrapping. How many women did the Viking date, anyway?
Shrugging, she chose a mint-green bra and panty set before dragging jeans and a T-shirt over them. The jeans were a mite tight in the butt, so she dropped into a couple of squats to loosen them.
Male voices from the other room caught her up short.
She glanced at the window.
A knock sounded on the door. Damn it. She wouldn’t have time to figure out a good escape. “I’m coming,” she sighed.
