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What the heck?

“This is so good.”

Isabella pushed her hair back in time to see Madison, who was now happily sitting on the sink counter, finishing the last bite of her chocolate just as a strong arm clamped down across her lower back, holding her prisoner.

“Put me down!” she demanded and just to make sure he knew that she meant business she added, “Now!” When he didn’t immediately comply she did what she was hoping not to have to do, she started to kick his ass.

It was too bad he didn’t seem to realize that he was under attack. He simply shifted her weight over his shoulder, clamped a hand over her legs, and walked her out of the bathroom. She stopped slapping his rather firm butt since it wasn’t working and decided to take an approach she hadn’t used since she was six years old and Tyler Thompson tried to lock her in the classroom closet with the class tarantula.

She bit him.

Hard.

“Ow!” Unfortunately he wasn’t the one to yelp out in pain. The ogre beneath her simply grunted at her assault before he swatted her hard on the butt. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from groaning from the unexpected pleasure. What in the heck was wrong with her?

“Be nice,” his deep voice warned softly as he gently rubbed the spot he’d just assaulted.

She opened her mouth to remind him that she would be nice if they simply released her when she felt him squeeze her butt. “Hey!” She swatted his butt. “Stop doing that!”

“I’m just making sure there’s no permanent damage,”

he explained, sounding amused as he rubbed and squeezed her butt again. Somewhere ahead of them in the hall Eric chuckled.

Frustration welled up in her as heat scorched her cheeks. She hated herself at the moment for reacting so strongly to his touch. It was the drugs they somehow laced her food with. It was the only reason to explain the little moan she had to bite back as he continued to rub her bottom and she hated him for it.

She hated being taken against her will, hated being flown across state lines, hated being treated like a prisoner and most of all she hated the way her body was reacting to this jerk beneath her. Then and there she promised herself that they weren’t getting anything from her and the moment she got her hands back on a computer she was going to make their lives a living hell.

Chapter 5

Seattle, Washington

“Master?”

Logan didn’t bother to look up from the large pile of computer equipment that had been set in front of him ten minutes earlier. He was still trying to figure out exactly where he went wrong.

The plan had been simple or at least he thought it had.

The only thing he asked of his men was to pick up one small woman at a deserted park in the middle of the night. It was very simple.

So, then why was he looking at a pile of computer equipment instead of the woman?

“Where is Isabella McGuire?” he asked quietly. He didn’t have to look up to know his men had taken a nervous step back.

He looked up and met the stares of the three men standing in front of him. “Do not make me ask again,”

he said softly. He never yelled at his men. He never had to. They either did what he told them to do or he killed them.

It was a very simple concept.

One he strictly abided by.

Thomas shifted nervously. “Adam tried to change her,”

the man blurted out.

Logan leaned back in his chair. “I see,” he murmured as his eyes once again shot to the large pile of expensive equipment covering his desk. “He did this knowing I wanted to change the woman myself?”

“Yes, Master,” John replied anxiously, probably hoping he’d shift all his anger towards the man he already planned on killing for failing to get the woman.

“And where is Adam?” he asked, drumming his fingers along the edge of his mahogany desk.

“Dead,” Brad, a vampire he’d mistakenly turned a few weeks ago announced. As a human he’d been a damn good cop, as a vampire….well, Logan was already planning on rectifying his mistake.

“How?”

The men shared nervous glances. “You know how I feel about being made to wait,” he reminded them.

“The woman,” John finally answered.

His fingers stilled. Isabella McGuire killed one of his strongest vampires? Based on the pictures he’d seen of her and information a few of his minions were able to get on her, he knew there was no way in hell she could have taken on Adam.

“She’s a Sentinel,” Brad blurted out.

Everything stilled in him with that one word.

Sentinel.

“We don’t think she knows what she is,” John added.

“She didn’t fight back when they grabbed her and she looked genuinely surprised by the whole thing.”

“Adam burst into flames a minute or so after he bit her,” Brad said in a rush.

“Didn’t you realize something was off about her scent?”

he asked through clenched teeth. Of all his men, Adam should have known when he was dealing with a Sentinel. Sentinel blood was sweet and too damn inviting. It was a natural trap that most vampires younger than four centuries fell for and it was a scent he damn well made sure all of his men were trained to detect.

“We didn’t get close enough to scent it on her,” John mumbled.

“Why not?” he demanded, trying to think of a way to rectify this situation. His men had f**ked up and now Isabella McGuire was fair game for the other Masters.

He’d be damned if they got their hands on her before he did. Now that his men had screwed up they probably sent her running out of his territory.

They had to get her and soon before she found out what she was and most importantly, before her mate found her. She might not be trained, but that didn’t mean her mate wouldn’t be. All he needed now was some f**king Sentinel screwing up his plans.

“Where is she?” he bit out, not bothering to send his fangs back when they shot out.

“They have her,” Brad mumbled pathetically.

“Who?” he snapped.

“A group of Sentinels on patrol found them. They killed the men with Adam and took her,” John explained quickly.

“I see,” Logan sighed as he got up and slowly walked around his desk. “The Sentinels have my property,” he said in deceptively calm voice. His men noticeably relaxed. It was insulting really.

“Yes, Master. There was nothing we could do,” Brad said, fidgeting as Logan came to a stop in front of him.

“Nothing?” he asked, looking into the weaker man’s eyes.


Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy