“No, you didn’t,” Rehv murmured. “Most would have left him to die. In fact, all would have. So he’s yours now—”
“No, he’s not—”
“He owes you his life. So he’s yours—”
“I don’t want him!”
Shawn—and by the way, who the fuck volunteered for a human name like that? Couldn’t the bastard have thought of something else to disguise himself with?—suddenly looked offended. Like she’d passed on USDA-inspected meat fresh out of the refrigerator.
Yeah, because a male like him was such a prize. Especially for a nice female who was clearly out of her depth with whatever the fuck was going on here.
“Okay, fine, that’s your business.” Rehv shrugged. “And on that note, I’m out—”
“I need your help,” she pleaded.
Rehv narrowed his eyes again. As she put her palms together and tilted forward like she was praying to him, the expression on her face would have been heartbreaking if he’d given a shit. But he couldn’t afford to. Her grid, that superstructure that only symphaths saw, was glowing with a fierce, destructive illumination—that rose to the level of a five-alarm fire.
Especially given what she was asking about.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Is that important?”
“Nah, not really—”
“You’re my only hope,” she begged.
After a moment, he shook his head. “That’s a line from Star Wars, female. It’s got nothing to do with me. Later, you two.”
As he dematerialized, he had a thought that he needed to leave all this alone.
Unfortunately, given what she was after?
He was as involved as someone tied to a sinking anchor.
It was a good thing that the Reverend left. As that male with the fancy-ass coat had been flapping his gums, Sahvage had been wondering which way of killing the motherfucker would be the most satisfying. There were a lot to choose from, which was what happened when you’d spent a couple of centuries stalking the night and eradicating things. A lack of weapons, however, did limit some of his options—although bare-hands-only was hardly a deal-breaker.
In the end, the pick of the litter had been taking the guy’s head and slamming it face-first into one of the readily available concrete walls—with the result being that the Reverend’s skull cracked like an egg, and his brains broke out of their cranial prison like pigeons flushed from underfoot, scatter, scatter, splatter, splatter.
Oh, what a relief it is.
Unfortunately, before that happy little plan could be put into action, the fucker took off—
“No,” the female hollered as she raced forward.
She was holding her hands out into thin air, even though her eyes must have told her there was no one there to catch, no one to hold. No one to help her.
Standing off to the side, Sahvage thought it would be interesting to be needed by her like that. Wanted like that. Determined to be necessary—
What was the hell was he thinking.
Been there, done that, and look at allllll the happy shit that had fallen on his head because of it.
“So what’s this book?” he asked.
Damn it. No. He did not just open that door—
The female pivoted around. The utter defeat on her face was a shock—for absolutely no good reason at all.
“He was my last chance.”
“For what?”
The female stared down at her shoes. When she finally looked back up at him, she tightened her lips and shook her head. “I have to go.”
Sahvage crossed his arms over his chest. “If you want, I’ll bring him back to you.”
With raised brows, she cupped one of her ears, like she couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”
“I’ll find him and bring him back to you.”
She let out a tired curse. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind carrying heavy loads with big mouths. Done it before, I’ll do it again.”
“He knows where it is,” she murmured as she glanced back at where the other male had been standing. “Tallah would never lie to me. He knows where the Book is, but for some reason, he’s pretending like he doesn’t.”
Sahvage went still. “What book are you looking for.”
Absently, like it was an afterthought to everything else that was going through her mind, she said, “And you need to stop fighting.”
Sahvage frowned and motioned around at all the empty space. “With who? We’re alone here, FYI, and this saucy repartee of ours can hardly be considered pugilistic.”
For some reason, he felt like proving he knew some fancy words.
Her eyes returned to his. “You need to stop fighting with everything and everybody.”
“Don’t pretend you know me, female,” he warned.
“I don’t have to pretend. It’s a billboard hanging over your shoulders for all to see.” She shook her head. “Just stop fighting. It’s a goddamn waste of energy. And I’m sorry I distracted you so that you got hurt. I think we’re even on that score now, though—”
“You thought I was the Reverend,” he said abruptly. “That’s why you came back, wasn’t it.”