Seducing the Jackal. Seressia Glass

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СКАЧАТЬ to her, as if implying that she wasn’t much of a threat to him. Considering how easily he’d breached her wards and taken her from her own bed, he was right, and it made her even angrier. She tamped it down. Getting angry wouldn’t help her escape, only hamper it. She needed to remain calm to keep her magic at the ready.

      He gave her a sidelong glance. “I had hoped you’d be powerful enough to be of use to me, but if you’re not...”

      He didn’t finish his statement, but he didn’t have to. Tia knew exactly what the jackals did to those they found useless.

      Shame stung her eyes. Her coven sisters had thought her useless when she’d failed to manifest greater power at the onset of puberty as the seventh Daughter of a seventh Daughter was supposed to do. Hurt by the rejection, she’d distanced herself from the other Daughters by going to college, staying in on-campus housing until she completed her studies, then putting a down payment on a modest house. She’d been making a solitary life for herself, but home was still in the circle with the other Daughters of Isis, even if they didn’t think so.

      “You say that you hunt the Lost Ones.” She wasn’t sure if she believed that, but she’d play along if it garnered her freedom. “Do you want my help fighting them?”

      Again the laugh. “I’ve seen your defensive spells—or lack of them. I doubt your fighting skills are much better.”

      Anger flooded her. “Your pack of dogs broke through my wards and into my house in the dead of night like a navy SEAL team storming an enemy hideout. You drugged me, bound me and brought me here before I could blink. What can one Daughter of Isis do against a pack of jackals?”

      “For one thing, not rely on magic to save her,” he shot back. “Which you should have known, given how weak your magic is.”

      “I. Am. Not. Weak!”

      * * *

      Markus’s eyes widened as the witch’s power punched him, causing him to rock back on his heels. Not so weak after all. Obviously she needed her passions provoked in order to fully tap into her power. Something told him provoking her passions wouldn’t be a problem.

      He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when weeks of reconnaissance had finally come to fruition, but this woman wasn’t it. She appeared young, though that was hardly an indication of age for their long-lived races. He knew she still had a healthy student loan balance, and her driver’s license stated she was mid-twenties. It was unusual for a witch so young to live outside of the safety of a coven, which was why he’d expected someone older, wiser, more of a challenge. Had she been thrown out of the Lotus Circle because she wasn’t powerful enough?

      No, he’d felt her power when she’d gotten angry. It was there, waiting for her to tap into it. Maybe she was bait, living away from the protective circle of witches in order to trap the Sons of Anubis. His hand lifted, fingers wrapping around the gold Anubis-head talisman all adult jackals wore. Let the witches try. He and his jackals had survived and would continue to do so. No sacrifice would be too great.

      He stared at the witch. If would be a shame if she was part of a trap. Women like her had always been a weakness to him—long-legged, thick in the thighs and full in the chest; eyes sloe, dark, fathomless and large in her copper-skinned face. Just the sort of woman he would pursue if he had the time or the inclination.

      He had neither. Not with Lost Ones walking the night. Certainly not with someone targeting the Sons of Anubis. Not with two of his clan brothers so close to death just down the hall.

      Markus fisted his hands. This Isis witch was a tool, a means to an end, nothing more. He couldn’t think about his need, how long it had been since he’d enjoyed a woman. He had to think about his clan, their survival and their eternal fight against the undead. Not the need that spiked through him every time he felt her magic.

      Angry with himself for being distracted, he bared his teeth at her. “For both our sakes, I hope you aren’t weak. If you’re weak, then you’re of no use to me. And if you’re no use to me...”

      “Jackal, please.” She rolled her eyes at him. “You know, threats tend to make people not inclined to help you. Just saying.”

      “You’re right,” he told her. Surprise lit her face, and he clenched his jaw against the sensual punch to the gut. “But what you don’t seem to understand is that I’m not threatening you. I’m just letting you know what will happen if you don’t do what I want. Just saying.”

      Her chin lifted. “What exactly do you want?”

      He pulled a blade from the sheath strapped to his thigh.

      She recoiled, hands coming up defensively.

      “Relax. I’m not going to kill you.”

      He didn’t say “yet,” but she flinched as if he had.

      Good. She didn’t need to know that he’d only killed in defense of himself or his clan, or in his sacred duty to Anubis. What she did need to know was just how serious he was about keeping his clan safe.

      Reaching over, he grabbed her wrists and slid the blade beneath the nylon tie that bound her. His fingertips tingled against her skin. She trembled as his thumb stroked over her pulse, but he didn’t know if the reaction was due to his touch or the dagger. “Hold still.”

      A sharp jerk and he freed her. She immediately rubbed her wrists, staring up at him. “What now?”

      “Come with me.” He held a hand out to her just to see what she would do.

      Continuing to chafe sensation back into her hands, she ignored his and stood on her own. “This way, I assume?” she asked, reaching for the knob.

      Impressed despite himself, Markus rapped on the door. The witch stumbled back a step as a guard opened the door onto a long hallway decorated with depictions of Lord Anubis in his various funerary roles and the journey through Duat, the Underworld.

      The witch stopped short. Her gaze roamed the walls, taking in each scene, every minute detail. “Amazing,” she whispered as her hand came up to trace the closest brightly rendered image. “The details, the colors—it’s beautiful!”

      Markus allowed a swell of pride. “We tried to recreate the images as accurately as possible, even sourcing as many of the original pigments as we could.” His fingers traced the graceful lines of a lotus flower. “We wanted a remembrance of what we’d lost. Luckily, our clan has never forgotten our past or our purpose.”

      He looked down at her, anger surging again. “Why don’t I introduce you to the artist?”

      Without waiting for an answer, he wrapped a hand around her bicep and dragged her down the hall. Four other doors flanked the hall, but only two had guards stationed outside—the one they’d left and the one they approached, second from the end. The hall then veered sharply right, opening onto a large open room holding a pool table, a massive flat-panel TV, bar and other entertainments before ending at the stairs leading to the upper level.

      He stopped at the second-to-last door, nodding to the jackal standing guard at the end of the hall. The guard opened the door, allowing Markus to shove Tia inside. She stiffened at his treatment, then gasped as she took in the contents of the room. Three strides in, she could see several cells. Jackals occupied two of them. One lay curled on a futon, his upper half human and the lower half misshapen СКАЧАТЬ