Even though Hadrian was better trained than his brother and as capable as any soldier, Nero wouldn’t let up or give in.
He was the only family Nero had left and big brother hen intended to sit on him until he hatched.
Or went crazy.
It might be too late for the crazy part . . .
The buzzer sounded.
Great. They needed help up front. The only thing he hated more than washing dishes . . .
Facing the derelicts who drifted in.
With a low growl in his throat, he headed for the door.
Then froze.
For a full minute he couldn’t breathe as he saw the woman at the counter. Tall, athletic, and surrounded by an air that said she was no one’s prey or plaything, she had to be the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
Long, thick black hair was pulled back from her pulchritudinous face in a tight ponytail. Even from here he could see her silvery blue eyes that were a stark contrast for her raven hair.
He didn’t need his Trisani powers or instincts to know that she was a creature of complete and utter violence. No, he could see the way she watched the doors and everyone around her.
Fully alert.
Fully armed.
Like a predator on the prowl. She was just biding her time in case she needed to attack or defend.
Damn.
But with that came a heavy wave of caution. Was she after him?
So many had tried . . .
Watch your ass, boy.
“Vicar!”
Isak’s sharp call reminded him what he was supposed to be doing.
Grabbing an e-pad, he headed for her before anyone else beat him to it. If she was an enemy, he needed to keep her close. “Your tablet’s broken.”
She scowled at him. And the moment those eyes turned up toward him, he was lost in the hidden pain he saw there. The shadows that haunted her soul deep. “Pardon?”
It took him a second to register her word. He jerked his chin toward the filthy e-pad in front of her. “That one doesn’t work. You’ll need this to place an order.” He handed her his pad and felt the softness of her fingers as they brushed against his.
“Vicar!”
Wanting to trip Izak with his powers, he forced himself to behave. If she was a mercenary or assassin, the last thing he needed was to expose himself.
Please don’t be someone I have to kill.
For one thing, he was really tired of people coming at his back. For another . . .
She was the epitome of what he’d wanted so long that he’d almost forgotten the sensation. Tough, beautiful. Confident.
And from the looks of her, capable.
