Without Regret (Pyte/Sentinel 2) - Page 82

Izzy threw him a pleading look, but he shook his head slightly as he continued slowly towards them. The last thing he wanted to do was startle the hell out of four Djaeho demons since they had a tendency of panicking before thinking things through.

“No, she smells stronger than the tee shirt and pregnant. It’s not her!” the one who’d been sniffing her wrist said shoving him and Chris nearly groaned when he realized that he was looking at four almost identical brothers who no doubt shared a brain. They all had sandy brown hair with streaks of red, dark beady eyes, hulking builds and were apparently slow on the uptake since they looked startled when they finally saw him.

Yeah, Djaeho demons were great trackers, but shitty mercenaries.

“You need to step away from my mate. Now,” he said, taking aim.

Instead of moving all four demons shared a very confused look. “What are we supposed to do now?” one of them asked, which one he really wasn’t sure and didn’t care as long as they moved their asses, but this was Djaeho demons he was talking about here and could very well still be standing around here five hours from now just as confused.

“I have a suggestion,” Izzy piped in and he swore he was going to spank her ass not only for allowing herself to be torn from his side, but for scaring the shit out of him with this stunt. “Since the hotel appears to be on fire and you followed this scent here then perhaps you should be outside waiting for her to come out?”

The four demons all looked down at her. To her credit his little Munchkin did her best to appear calm and relaxed, but he could tell by the way she ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip that she was scared out of her mind and he didn’t blame her. Djaeho demons were not only stupid, but very unpredictable.

“If you don’t want to upset this Jonathan person then you should probably go and look for her,” Izzy suggested and damn if all four men didn’t nod in agreement and storm out of the room without another word.

“I can’t believe they fell for that,” Izzy mumbled as he reached out and grabbed her hand.

“They’re not very bright, but whoever’s running the show will figure out what just happened quickly enough. We need to haul ass, Munchkin, before they come back,” he said, pulling her towards window.

“Umm, the door is that way,” she pointed out, coughing.

He looked over his shoulder and swore as he saw gray smoke pour in from the bottom of the door. “We have to go this way, Munchkin,” he said, tightening his hold on her as he dragged her towards the closed balcony door.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded as she tried to yank her hand away from him. “We’re on the third floor!” she pointed out almost desperately as he yanked her the final five feet onto the small balcony overlooking a pretty goddamn steep drop.

Why the hell had they built this damn hotel on the top of a steep rocky hill? he wondered as he tossed his bag over the side and watched as it hit, tumbled and picked up speed as it raced down the hill, hitting rocks and small trees until if finally came to a halt several feet from a wide raging river. It made for beautiful scenery, but with all those rapids, rocks and no doubt the bone numbing temperature of the water it was going to be hell on their bodies.

“No!” she cried out as he grabbed her bag and tossed over the side to join his. “My Netbook was in there,” she said, pouting and looking so damn cute at the moment that he couldn’t help but kiss her on the tip of her nose.

“Was there anything important in it?”

“No,” she grumbled, still not sounding too happy about it. “But it had this really cute picture on it,” she mumbled, looking down and then promptly taking a huge step back.

“I’ll find you another picture, Munchkin, but we really have to get the hell out of here,” he said, reaching for her again. When she slapped away his hands he had to stop himself from wincing. Oh yeah, his Munchkin was definitely coming into her abilities, he thought proudly.

It wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference in the end, but at least he knew she’d be able to protect herself if something were to happen on the island Eric sent her to, and nothing better f**king happen to her.

“Yeah, that’s not really what I’m worried about at the moment.”

“Then what is?” he asked, dragging her closer to the edge.

“Your little vacation from sanity,” she said, gasping when he threw a leg over the ledge. “There is no way that I’m jumping, Chris, and if you think that I am then you’re as crazy as those four,” she said, gesturing towards the smoke filled hotel room.

He looked pointedly passed her. “Doesn’t look as though you have much of a choice there, Munchkin.”

She followed his eyes and swallowed nervously.

“Time to go, Munchkin,” he said, pulling her until she had no choice but to put one leg over the cement banister.

“C-Chris,” she said nervously as she chanced a peek down. She noticeably paled as she shot the smoke filled hotel room a wistful glance. “Is there a chance that we can fly and you’ve forgotten to tell me?”

“Nope, but I’m pretty sure we won’t die from this height.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “I. Hate. You.”

“Puhlease, everyone f**king loves me,” he said, pulling her into his arms before she could stop him and pushed off from the wall, praying they didn’t hit one of the jagged dark grey rocks to their right.

*******

“When you get them, you’re going to need to move fast.

I’m going to have seven teams set up around the city to create diversions and help you get her into the city.

Once you’re in I’m going to need you to-“

“This is the team you’re sending after my son?”

Ephraim asked as he stormed into the meeting room which also housed half of the compound’s weapons.

“Yes,” Eric said, gesturing to a group of ten Sentinels, two woman and eight men. He looked them over and shook his head.

“No,” he simply said as he walked past Eric and helped himself to the holy weapons table.

“What the hell do you mean by ‘no’?” Eric demanded.

“We don’t have time for any bullshit. I need to get them in here now.”

“They’re not going,” he said, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he grabbed a small box of holy oil tipped bullets. “I’ll go and get him myself. I don’t need ten Sentinel’s drawing attention to them.”

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy
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