Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (universal ebook reader txt) 📗

The shadows that had clung to him weren’t as sinister as they had been earlier, more sedate and cautious like a protective layer wrapped around him in a comforting blanket.

He’d turned up the volume with long, nimble fingers, forearm flexing. The melody rose and sank like a boat swaying on the ocean, luring my hips to move with the rhythm.

My eyes had traced up his muscled arm to the black tee that hugged his body nicely. Very nicely. It really showed off how much time he spent training.

I had wondered if his moves on the mat were as fluid in the bedroom or if he was more of an energetic force that...

Bang!

Too slow to react once I felt the weight slipping down my jeans, the old book slid off my lap onto the waxed wooden floor, ripping me out of my reverie as quickly as its pages snapped closed.

Getting my breathing back under control, I cast a furtive glance around, shame burning my cheeks, grateful to find myself still alone. To my relief, the thickly bound parchments were unharmed.

The book was ancient, and I wondered if one of my supernatural teammates had collected it when it was new. Their ages were a mystery to me, though Seke certainly seemed the oldest and wisest. Perhaps that was a manifestation resulting from his status as captain. Or it could be due to the fact that he was over two thousand years old if he was the original Seker god from ancient Egypt…

“There you are.”

The book almost crashed to the floor again as I startled. Seke’s deep tone seared straight to my core, and I couldn’t withhold the shiver of desire.

Looking up, I caught his stare as he strode toward my position at the back of the massive bookshelf-walled room. The rainbow of colored spines became a bright and cheery backdrop to Seke’s olive skin and perpetual shadows. Did I see heat in those hooded hazel eyes?

No, of course not. Don’t be stupid, Aria. They’re full of sorrow. He’sgrieving.

The eyes in question dipped to the book.

I lifted my chin in defiance. “I will figure out who put this tattoo on me, and I will get my powers rebound. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

His head tilted in acknowledgment, but his mouth was a tight, straight line. “I would not stop you should you choose to return to the mundane quality of your former life.”

The way he said it made my previous lifestyle sound so… bleh.

“You believe it was a druid?” he guessed, reading upside down.

“Makes the most sense. Do you… know any?” Being older and wiser theoretically made one more knowledgeable of the world and its residents. Well, being aware of the supernatural world for more than, oh, a few months could give a guy a head start.

“I know of a few but have never spoken to them. They are rare and keep to themselves. It would be hard to simply hunt them down. In fact, I am not sure if they work with runes. I will put feelers out if you like, but I ask you to continue your work with the Harbingers of Death until you find what you seek.”

My eyes narrowed at the pointed remark, an indication he knew of my burgeoning desire to abandon ship. “Not like I have anywhere else to go.” Yet. “Thanks for the help.”

“Of course. You are, at present, one of my constituents.”

Was that also a pointed reminder? What was he getting at? “What did you wanna talk to me about?” My head tilted, silver hair sliding across my back and over a shoulder, as I closed the book and set it aside, ready to pounce if the moment called for it.

“I was hoping to speak to you in my office. Would you kindly follow me?”

His office? The forbidden area I’d not yet seen? Oh no.

The library would make me think twice about taking my siren-juiced fantasies to the next level. But alone with him in his office? I flushed at the mere thought of the possibilities.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked in an attempt to move my thoughts away from getting sweaty. He’d sworn I’d done nothing wrong, disagreeing with the ruffled birds and mourning dog, but maybe he’d changed his mind or I’d done something else wrong. Maybe he wanted to put me into remedial training because I’d screwed up so hard. If he made me spar with Cole again, it might be the end of “Cupcake” as the hellhound liked to call me.

What I really needed help on was the screaming part. Handling the visions and controlling my ability to scope out our targets could be nurtured. But we had no one to guide me with that since Mom was gone… Only some mystical druid, possibly out there somewhere, who couldn’t teach me to harness my banshee wails but did supposedly have the magic to zip my lips. If she still existed.

Seke shook his head, and I watched that stray strand on his forehead shift. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to talk to you about your next assignment.”

It felt like I had been summoned to the principal’s office for detention. My notions of getting sticky and sweaty together vanished once Seke’s warm hand had left my back. His escort complete, he then left to change out of his mourning attire. Butterflies more akin to nausea than excitement decided to play bumper cars in my stomach while I awaited his return. Pacing the small area, I tried to distract myself by inspecting the various antiques decorating the spotless room.

There were framed papyrus pages bearing hieroglyphs, an ornate crook leaning against a corner, some kind of small jade beetle, and a dark black stone carving of a jackal on a shelf. And entombed within his glass desk in the middle of the space was a literal mummy.

Concealing the dead man’s wrapped face was a computer that felt unusually modern in the room, and some files lay atop the glass