Blood
Assassin
The Sentinels # 2
The Sentinels # 2
By: Alexandra Ivy
Releasing December 30th, 2014
Zebra
Blurb
They are
the outcasts of humanity. Blessed with power. Cursed by fate. Driven by
passion. The Sentinels have returned…
OUT OF THE
SHADOWS
At
six-foot-three and two-hundred-fifty pounds, Fane is a natural born guardian. A
flawless mix of muscled perfection and steely precision, he has devoted years
of his life to protecting a beautiful necromancer. But after she found love in
the arms of another, Fane has been a warrior adrift. He swears allegiance only
to the Sentinels. And no woman will ever rule his heart again…
INTO THE
FIRE
Not only a
powerful psychic, Serra is that rare telepath who can connect to minds through
objects. When the daughter of a high-blood businessman is kidnapped, Serra
agrees to help. But when she stumbles onto a conspiracy involving secrets sects
and ancient relics, her life is in mortal danger—and Fane is her only hope. Is
the warrior willing to risk his body, his soul, and his heart, for Serra? Or
will one last betrayal destroy them both?
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2014/11/blood-assassin-sentinels-2-by-alexandra.html
Goodreads
Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21535284-blood-assassin?from_search=true
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Excerpt:
“True.” Fane tried to dismiss the problem from his
mind. Soon enough he would be in the
seclusion of the monastery and the dangers of the world would no longer be his
concern. Right? “It sounds like you have it covered. I’ll send you more warriors when they’ve
completed their training.”
“Dammit,
Fane...” Wolfe bit off his words as the
atmosphere in the gym abruptly changed.
Both men turned to
discover what had happened.
Or rather...who...had
happened.
“Shit,” Fane
breathed, a familiar ache settling in the center of his chest at the sight of
the beautiful female who sashayed into the room.
Serra Vetrov had the
habit of changing the atmosphere in rooms since she’d left the nursery.
Hell, he’d seen men
walk into walls and cars drive off the road when she strolled past.
An elegantly tall
woman with long, glossy black hair that contrasted with her pale, ivory skin,
she had lush curves that she emphasized with her tight leather pants and
matching vest that was cut to reveal a jaw-dropping amount of her generous
breasts.
Her features were
delicately carved. Her pale green eyes
were thickly lashed, her nose narrow and her lips so sensually full they gave
the impression of a sex kitten.
Although anyone
foolish enough to underestimate her, was in for an unpleasant surprise.
Serra was not only a
powerful psychic, but she was a rare telepath who could use objects to connect
with the mind of the owner. Over the
years, she’d used her talents more than once to find missing children or to
track down violent offenders.
On the darker side,
she could also use her skills to force humans, and those high-bloods without
mental shields, to see illusions and could even implant memories in the more
vulnerable minds.
Still, it wasn’t her
dangerous powers that made grown men scramble out of her path. Serra had a tongue that could flay at a
hundred yards and she wasn’t afraid to use it.
Wolfe sent Fane a
mocking smile. “It appears I’m not the
only one who listens to the grapevine.
Good luck, amigo.”
Turning, he strolled
toward the cluster of Sentinels who were watching Serra cross the gym like a
pack of starving hounds.
Bastards.
###
Serra kept her head
held high and a smile pinned to her lips as she marched past the gaping
men. She was female enough to appreciate
being noticed by the opposite sex. Why
not? But today she barely noticed the
audible groans as she took a direct path toward her prey.
She felt a tiny surge
of amusement as the thought of Fane being anyone’s prey.
The massive warrior
was two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle and raw male power. He was also one of the rare few who was
completely impervious to her ability to poke around in his mind.
Which was a blessing
and a curse.
A blessing because it
was impossible for a psychic to completely block out an intimate partner, which
was a distraction that would make any lover cringe. There was nothing quite so demeaning as being
in the middle of sex and realize your partner was picturing Angelina Jolie.
And a curse because
Fane was about as chatty as a rock. His
feelings were locked down so tight Serra feared that someday they would
explode.
And not in a good
way.
Or maybe it would be
good, she silently told herself, gliding to a halt directly in front of his
half-naked form.
There weren’t many
things worse than watching all emotions being stripped away as you approached
the man you’d loved for the past two decades.
Especially when she
was a seething mass of emotions.
She wanted to grab
his beautiful face in her hands and kiss him until he melted into a puddle of
goo. No.
She wanted to kick him in the nuts for being such a prick.
Maybe she’d kick him
and then kiss it better.
To make matters worse
she was on a lust-driven adrenalin high.
Just standing next to
his half-naked body coated in sweat made her heart pump and her mouth dry.
God. She was so fucking pathetic.
Accepting that her
companion wasn’t going to break the awkward silence, she tilted her chin up
another notch.
Any higher and she
was going to be staring at the ceiling.
“Fane,” she purred
softly.
His dark gaze
remained focused on her face, resisting any temptation to glance at her skimpy
vest. Of course, if it hadn’t been for
the rare times she’d caught him casting covert glances at her body, she might
suspect he hadn’t yet realized she was a woman.
“Serra.”
On the way to the gym
she’d practiced what she was going to say.
She was going to be cool.
Composed. And in complete
control.
Instead the fear
lodged in the pit of her belly made her strike out like a petulant child.
“You’re leaving?”
He gave a slow dip of
his head. “I’m returning to Tibet.”
The fear began to
spread through her body, her hands clenching at her sides. “Did you ever intend to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“When?” she
snapped. “On your way out the door?”
“Does it matter?”
Oh yeah. He was definitely getting kicked in the nuts.
“Yes, it damned well
matters.”
He remained
stoic. Unmoved by her anger. “What do you want from me?”
She lowered her
voice. It wasn’t that she gave a shit
that they had an audience. Living in
Valhalla meant that privacy was a rare commodity. But she had some pride, dammit. She didn’t want them to hear her beg.
“You know what I
want.”
Something flared
through the dark eyes. Something that
sliced through her heart like a dagger.
“It’s impossible,” he
rasped. “I’ll always care for you,
Serra, but not in the way you need.”
She should walk away.
It’s what any woman
with an ounce of sense would do.
But when had she
claimed any sense when it came to this man?
Instead she stepped
forward, bringing them nose to nose.
Well, they would be nose to nose if he didn’t have six inches on her.
“Liar.”
He frowned, the heat
from his body brushing over her bare skin like a caress. Serra shuddered. Oh god.
She’d wanted him for so long.
It was like a
sickness.
“A Sentinel doesn’t
lie.”
She snorted at the
ridiculous claim. “Maybe not, but you
can twist the truth until it screams.
And the truth is that you’ve always used your duty to Callie as a shield
between us.”
His fists landed on
his hips, his eyes narrowing at her accusation.
“My duty was more than a shield.”
Okay. He had a point.
His bond with Callie
had been very real.
But that didn’t mean
he hadn’t hidden behind his obligation as a guardian.
“Fine.” She held his gaze. “And now that duty is done.”
He was shaking his
head before she finished speaking. “My
duty to Callie is done, but my duty to the Sentinels remains.”
She clenched
teeth. It was true most Sentinels never
married. But it wasn’t against any
rules.
Niko had just
returned to Valhalla with a wife who promised to be a valuable healer, and
Callie had recently married Duncan who’d recently become a Sentinel.
It might demand
compromise and sacrifice on both sides, but it could be done.
So why was Fane so
unwilling to even give it a try?
“I assume that’s
going to be your new excuse?” she forced between gritted teeth.
Without warning his
expression softened and his fingers lightly brushed down her bare arm.
“Serra, I don’t need
an excuse,” he said, the hint of regret in his eyes more alarming than his
previous remoteness. She was used to him
pretending to be indifferent to her. Now
it felt like...goodbye. Shit. “I’ve never made promises I can’t keep,” he
continued, his tone soft. “In fact, I’ve
been very clear that you should find a man who can give you the happiness you
deserve.”
For one weak, tragic
moment she allowed herself to savor the brief touch of his fingers. Then
her pride came galloping to her rescue and she was jerking away with a brittle
smile.
She would endure
anything but his pity.
Hell no.
“Very generous of
you.”
He grimaced at her
sarcastic tone. “I know you don’t
believe me, but all I’ve ever wanted was your happiness.”
“And you assume I’ll
find it in the arms of another man?” She
went straight for the jugular.
The hesitation was so
fleeting she might have imagined it.
“Yes.”
She leaned forward,
infuriated by her inability to read his mind.
Dammit. Just when she needed her
talents the most she was flying blind.
Was this how humans
felt?
This maddening
helplessness?
It sucked.
“It won’t bother you
at all to know that I belong to another?”
“I will be...” He took a beat to find the right word. “Content.”
Author Info
ALEXANDRA
IVY graduated from Truman University with a degree in theatre before deciding
she preferred to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She
currently lives in Missouri with her extraordinarily patient husband and
teenage sons. To stay updated on Alexandra’s Guardian series or to chat with
other readers, please visit her website at www.alexandraivy.com.
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