Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel 4) - Page 117

“Either kill me or let me go so that I can go to her,” he demanded, meeting Kale’s glare once more.

“No,” Kale said, shaking his head as he stepped back, keeping his hold on the shifter’s neck until he was an arm’s length away. He dropped his arm away only to swing the other one, hitting the shifter in the side of his head and knocking him out with a punch that sent him flying back, slamming him into what remained of the wall. He dropped to the ground without a sound.

“Lock him up,” Kale said, turning his attention to Christofer.

“What’s the plan?” Chris asked, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket as he knelt down next to the shifter and secured his hands behind his back.

Kale leaned over and yanked the knife out of Christofer’s back, a mistake that Caine had no doubt they would all pay for and soon, and looked up and met Chris’ questioning look and simply said, “Revenge.”

*-*-*-*

It’s about f**king time.

He leaned back, preparing to savor the moment when his bitch was brought back to him. When he caught her scent breaking through the stale scents left over by the hotel room’s many occupants over the years and the blood of the bitch who’d had the misfortune of being left with him, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His c**k began to stir, preparing for the night ahead when he caught another scent, one that had his eyes opening and a curse forming at the tip of his tongue.

“Hello,” the bastard said with an amused smile just as Aidan registered the feel of cold steel pressing against his throat, a reminder of the bullshit that he’d been forced to go through to find his bitch.

Aidan chuckled, uncaring that the move caused the sharp edge of the knife to press into his skin and draw blood. “Figured it out, did you?” he asked in a bored tone as he reached back and scratched his head, wondering if this meant that his Beta was dead.

He looked past the shifter perched on the edge of a chair next to him and shrugged when he spotted the pale, bloody hand hanging over the side of the bed. At least he didn’t have to worry about coming up with a half-assed excuse as to how he’d killed the stupid bitch. Not that he had worried about upsetting his Beta when he’d been f**king the bitch. He’d been trying to work off some of his excitement at having his property back with the willing bitch. When she’d started moaning his name as he sank his claws into her back he may have gotten a little carried away.

Kale followed his gaze and shook his head with disgust as he pressed the edge of the blade more firmly against his throat. “The Beta’s mate?” he asked, returning his attention to him.

“Got carried away,” he said, fighting back a yawn.

“You seem to have a problem with that,” Kale mused, his attention focused on the knife at his throat.

“You mean the bitch?” Aidan asked with a dark chuckle. “Is that what this is about?”

Kale shook his head slowly. “No, this is about something entirely different than how a sick f**k gets off.”

“Then tell me, Kale Quinn,” he said mockingly, “what is this about?”

“Revenge,” Kale said, stepping back and taking the knife with him.

“Revenge?” he asked, his lips twitching with amusement as he watched the notorious Kale Quinn sheath his knife and lean back against the wall.

“Mmmmhmm, revenge,” Kale said, folding his arms over his chest, looking as though he was settling in for a show.

“And what exactly are you getting revenge for?” Aidan asked, leaning back in his chair, deciding that he could spare a few minutes and perhaps get a few answers before he ripped the bastard apart for interrupting his night.

“Where’s my Beta?” he asked, drumming his fingers against the cracked armrests of his chair.

“Preparing to become the Council’s bitch,” Kale said in an offhanded tone.

“And my bitch?” he asked, chuckling at the murderous look the mutt shot him.

“You mean my mate?” the gravelly voice demanded, bringing his attention to the doorway where a man stood, his red eyes matching the blood staining his large body.

Slowly, he came to his feet as he faced the son of a bitch that had stolen his property. The one that had damaged his bitch and changed her. The one that he was going to use to make all his dreams come true, including getting his bitch back. He was going to-

“You son of a bitch,” Cloe said, stepping around the red-eyed male. “It was you all this time.”

“Cloe,” he said, smiling as he watched the shocked expression on her face as she realized that the man that she’d allowed to f**k her had also been the one to rip her family apart.

“Aidan,” she said, her eyes watering as she came to a stop in front of the large male who dared to call himself her mate.

“Miss me?” he asked, allowing his eyes to travel down her body, making note that his beta had failed in getting rid of the bastard in her womb.

He would have to rectify that and soon.

It wouldn’t do to allow anything but his mark to wreck her delectable body after all, he thought as he prepared himself for her attack. He knew it was coming. He could see it in her face, the blind hatred that had sent her running most of her life, had terrified her so badly that she avoided the night, avoided everything and everyone.

It was coming.

He’d seen it a hundred times before when someone allowed their emotions to take over. She’d think about that night, about what he’d done to her family, what he’d done to her and all the ways that he’d made her scream his name before it became too much to hold back and she went for his throat. When she did, he would use it against her. He’d use her to get out of here and once they were far enough away, he’d get rid of that parasite in her womb and force her to submit. He would-

Never leave this room alive, he realized in horror as Cloe stepped aside as two more Pytes stepped inside the room, flanking the one that carried her scent.

If he hadn’t been so focused on the Pytes watching his every move, he would have noticed the Sentinel sneaking inside the room behind him. By the time the silver plated knife was shoved through his spine, it was too late.

Chapter 64

“Shit!” Cloe hissed, fumbling to catch the bar of soap before she dropped it, but her shaky hands only managed to send the bar of soap flying across the large stall.

“God damn it!” she said, biting back another sob as she shoved her hands through her wet, tangled hair before she was dropping them away and reaching for the hot water nozzle.

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy
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