“I don’t understand.”

The woman waved a hand toward the kitchen table. “Why do you bother with this junk anyway?”

Was this some sort of trick?

“I need it for my research,” she said slowly. “Although I admit it can’t compare to my lab at the university.”

“Come on, Angela,” the intruder scoffed. “You don’t have to hide the truth from me.”

Angela went rigid with a strange sense of wariness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The woman gave a sharp laugh. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

“You, Angela Locke, are a freak.”

“No.” Angela shook her head, squashing the ridiculous urge to slap her hands over her ears. The woman was nuts. A full-blown wackadoodle. “No way.”

“How do you think you’re able to manipulate cells that no one else can?”

Angela sucked in a ragged breath. Why wasn’t she laughing at the woman’s outrageous claims?

“The magnetic particles I’ve developed—”

“No.” The woman stepped close enough for Angela to feel the heat she radiated from her skin even through her clothes. Obviously her mutation made her run at a higher temperature. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“This is crazy.” Angela was trapped, reaching behind her to grasp the edge of the counter. Her knees were threatening to collapse. “I want you out of my apartment.”

“If you insist.” The creepy smile returned as the woman reached out with terrifying speed to lock her hands around Angela’s upper arms, her claws digging through the sweatshirt to puncture the tender skin beneath. “I was going to let you pack a bag, but whatever.”

“Stop it,” Angela cried, fear and pain hammering through her with equal force. “What are you doing?”

The crimson eyes glowed with an eerie light. “I have a comfy little home all prepared for our arrival. You’re not leaving my side until you fix me.”

Her grip tightened, but even as Angela braced herself to be dragged from the room kicking and screaming, the stranger was tilting back her head to sniff the air. Like an animal.

Angela shuddered. Oh . . . God. What now?

In answer, the woman whirled toward the door, her hands clenched in tight fists.

“Niko,” she hissed, not nearly as dumbfounded as Angela as a tall, stunningly familiar man stepped into the kitchen.

“Dylan,” Dr. Nikolo Bartrev drawled, his handsome face carved from granite. “I knew you’d eventually show up here.”

It was rare for Nikolo to be caught flat-footed.

No, it wasn’t rare.

It was never.

But trailing Angela from the university to her apartment building, he’d taken time to make a sweep of the neighborhood. He was certain Dylan was going to make her move. And make it soon.

He just hadn’t expected her to already be in the apartment.

A mistake that might have cost Angela her life.

The realization detonated a strange explosion of fear and fury in the depths of his soul.

A sensation that was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected.

Niko was trained to hone his feelings into a smooth blade of cold, calculating resolve. Becoming emotional only clouded his mind and dulled his instincts.

But silently entering the apartment, he hadn’t been worried about his prey. Or even his own life.

His sole focus was reaching Angela before she could be hurt.

Stepping into the kitchen he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Dylan standing directly in front of Angela. Shit. She was too close to risk an attack.

One swing of her hand and she could crush Angela’s skull. Or use her claws to rip out her throat.

He swallowed a growl, ignoring the voice that warned his hesitation might cost him the opportunity to put an end to Dylan’s murderous rampage.

He would have his revenge, he grimly assured himself. But not at Angela’s expense.

Wiping all expression from his face, he watched Dylan slowly turn, her crimson eyes filled with a mocking amusement that didn’t entirely disguise her seething frustration.

“Long time no see,” she drawled. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a fucking hole in the head,” he retorted, allowing only a brief glance toward Angela who was studying him with a shocked gaze. “You gave up any claim to loyalty when you killed Adam and Fiona.”

“I know you won’t believe me, but I wish their deaths hadn’t been necessary.”

Niko shrugged aside the female’s genuine regret. He’d been the one to discover the two Sentinels. Adam had lost his throat when he’d obviously gone into Dylan’s room to check on her, while Fiona had been shot in the back of her head while standing guard at the entrance to the psych ward.

Adam had been a longtime friend, while Fiona had been as close as any daughter to him.

He would mourn their deaths for the rest of his life.

“It was a choice, not a necessity.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dylan countered. “You weren’t chained to the walls like an animal.”

“For your own safety.” Niko made a sound of disgust. “Of course, that was a ruse, wasn’t it? You never intended to kill yourself.”

The female shrugged. “I needed to distract attention. I knew I was being watched.”

Niko narrowed his eyes. It had been one of the clairvoyants who’d picked up on Dylan’s growingly dark thoughts, although the Sentinel had the ability to hide her secret plans. It was enough to put a constant surveillance on the unstable female.

“Because you’re a psychopath.”

“So easy for you to judge when you walk around like a Greek god,” Dylan hissed. “How would you feel if you looked like a monster?”

He deliberately allowed his gaze to roam over the spotted skin and too-flat nose before returning to meet the smoldering crimson glare.

“You’ve never been a monster to your family.”

“Family?” Her sharp laugh sliced through the air. “My family tossed me away at birth.”

“We were your family,” he reminded her. All high-bloods were welcomed at Valhalla and Dylan had been raised by people who loved her. “Your parents gave you to us because they understood the challenges you would face and trusted us to protect you.”

She gave a restless shake of her head, her madness refusing to acknowledge she’d been treated with nothing but kindness.

“How did you find me?”

“I’m a Sentinel.”

“My trail was in Texas.”

“You didn’t escape to kill humans.”

“So you knew I was coming for the scientist,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder at the white-faced Angela before turning back to Niko with a sudden realization. “Ah, you used her as bait.”

“Yes.”

There was a raw, pained sound from Angela that pierced Niko’s heart. Christ. That was a little tidbit he’d intended to keep to himself.

But even as he ground his teeth at the thought of Angela’s sense of betrayal, his gaze never strayed from Dylan.

The bitch was still too close to Angela for him to strike.

“Always so clever, Niko,” the Sentinel mocked.

Clever. Yeah, not clever enough to avoid his own trap, he acknowledged wryly, belatedly accepting that Dylan wasn’t the only one to have fallen for the bait.

He took a step forward. “It’s time to end this.”

“Oh no, this isn’t the end. The game is just beginning.” With the fluid speed of all Sentinels, Dylan turned to Angela, her hand shooting out to grasp her chin with claws that bit into the tender skin. “I’ll come for you later, sweet Angela. Niko can’t guard you forever.”

“Damn.”

Niko launched himself forward, but as fast as he was, Dylan was already leaping through the window over the sink and dropping the two stories to the parking lot below.

Without hesitation Niko was in pursuit.

Chapter Four

On some level Angela knew she must be in shock.

Otherwise she’d be curled in the middle of the floor screaming in terror. Or at the very least, calling nine-one-one.

Instead she stumbled toward her bedroom, barely aware of what she was doing as she found a gym bag on the floor of her closet and began stuffing it with clothes.

She had to get away.

Somewhere.

Anywhere.

The destination didn’t matter. Just so long as it wasn’t here.

Vaguely realizing the bag was full, she zipped it shut and rose to her feet.

It was only when she turned that she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Shit.” She dropped the bag, reaching behind her back to retrieve the carving knife she’d grabbed on her way out of the kitchen. “Stay back.”

In answer Niko took a deliberate step forward, his gaze flicking down to the bag at her feet.

“Good. You’ve packed.”

Her gaze locked on the handsome face that had filled her dreams for six long weeks. God. He looked so . . .