Amalgamate

Chapter 52

Declan couldn't believe she'd hung up on him. No woman had ever said "No" to him, not ever. She was his bride, and she would come to accept this sooner rather than later. But just in case, he had all of his people out patrolling for her, everywhere. It was only a matter of time before she showed her face. She had to go out at some point, and when she did, one of his people would see her and call him.

He sat in his office daydreaming about her: the feel of her moist skin against his in the shower, her mouth moving over his torso, the smell of her hair, her nails raking down his back, her powerful thighs pulling his hips into her. When his phone rang, it startled him out of his private reverie.

"Declan, she got him. Dermid's toast." Bhaltair's voice sounded confounded.

"How?" He wouldn't have thought her capable of such a feat, not yet anyway.

"She caught up with him in Havana. Apparently he had a place on the beach there. Somehow she found him, waited for him to come home and handed him his ass."

"So, she's resourceful too. How?"

"She took the bastard's head with a sickle, cut him up into portable pieces, hauled them down to the beach, started a bonfire and burned his ass like it was a damn pig roast." Bhaltair laughed at that. She really was Declan's bride. He could be unrelenting and masochistic in his pursuits, too.

"Was she alone?" Declan was sure she'd had help, and if she did, they would lead him right to her.

"Well, no one helped her slay him. She did that all on her own. There was someone else there. You won't believe who it was."

"Tell me." His hands clenched into fists. If anyone hurt her.

"Vertigen's image is on the security monitors, too. One of our spies in his camp sent it shortly afterward. Both of their eyes were lit up like the sky on the fourth of July. She was amazing. You should watch it." Bhaltair uploaded the video and sent it, "Check your phone."

"Thanks, Bhaltair." Declan hung up and turned on the video. Even though her face was hidden and her hair was blonde, he knew it was her, because he knew every curve of her body and the way they moved. When she crept around the corner her eyes became visible, glowing brighter as she closed in on him. She raised the sickle with such precision and speed you would have thought she was the Grim Reaper himself. Dermid had never even sensed her. He never sensed her or saw it coming.

Declan watched as the sickle sliced almost completely through Dermid's neck, severing his larynx, trachea and carotid artery. Blood splatter covered the side of the house. Rowan's front was clean as a whistle, save her face and lips, which were dripping with the heady red liquid. She didn't even wipe it off before she spoke, as though she didn't even sense it was there, or didn't care.

He leaned in closer to the screen. She was absolutely vicious, savage in her attack. His chest swelled with pride and his loins stirred with excitement at watching the damage she could do. She belonged to him, and she would be with him again, soon.

On the video it appeared as though Dermid was begging for his life. Unfortunately for him, Rowan wasn't a forgiving person.

He watched her body moving beneath the black leather almost losing himself in the idea of being with her in this state. But, it was her eyes that were sheer perfection. She had shown no emotion as she cut him down and then disposed of the body. "That's my good girl." She wasn't just beautiful. She was dangerous, volatile, but always in control. Which made her his ideal, and only, mate.

And then he saw him.

Vertigen stood like a statue above her, and she hadn't even realized he was there. Vertigen had watched her move beneath him for only a few seconds before her body tuned into his presence. Declan's heart, dead as it was, leapt in his chest. His hands gripped the edge of the table, and his eyes were glued to the surveillance tape. Had Vertigen gotten her?