His Darkest Salvation (Jaguar Warriors 3)

“I’m not a pimply-faced kid afraid to meet Father,” Julian retorted, his tone flat, his arms loose and ready for battle. “I won’t run like a coward.”

“I’m not asking you to run,” she said, exasperated. Did he mean to continually annoy her? Was everything to be a fight?

“I’m asking you to listen”—she paused for a second to gather her thoughts—“and listen carefully.”

Something in her tone must have penetrated his thick skull. Though he rolled his shoulders and looked uninterested in what she had to say, she had his attention.

“My father cannot find a Castille shifter here, in my home. He’ll go ape-shit, and believe me, on a good day he’s not a nice man.” Her voice broke, and she ignored the way his eyes narrowed, the way his mouth parted as he stared at her. He must love seeing her like this.

“I’ve given everything in order to bring him down. To make him pay for all the fucking shit and evil crap that he’s . . . you’ve no idea . . .” Her voice trailed into a whisper. “ . . . of the things that he’s done.”

“Enlighten me,” Julian retorted, a hint of sarcasm coloring his words. “I’m all ears.”

Jaden gritted her teeth as a wave of nervous energy rolled through her. “I don’t have time to share the wonders of my childhood, and we’re so close to ending it all . . . I won’t let you screw it up.” She exhaled a ragged breath. “You need to listen to me.”

Finn’s voice interrupted once more, and she jumped. “Jaden, he’s in the lobby. O’Hara is concerned about the cloaking charm on Castille. He seems surprised that you were able to sense him. He also says you need to let Tank out.”

“Tank?” she asked, a frown pulling at her mouth as she looked to Julian.

“Yeah, apparently they hogtied him and stuffed him in the closet.”

“Nice.” Her eyes were now shooting bullets at Julian. “Tell Declan not to worry about the cloaking charm, it’s working fine. And let’s go dark, no more transmissions. I’ll be down as soon as I can.” She looked at Julian and pointed toward the glass.

“Please,” she whispered, hating that she had to beg the one man she hated almost as much as her father.

“How can you be sure he won’t detect my scent?” he asked quietly, his manner suddenly dead serious.

A strangled noise escaped her lips. She so didn’t have time for 101 questions.

She rubbed her neck impatiently. “The only reason I knew you were here was because of the tattoos. They burn when you’re around.” Her eyes looked away quickly. “It’s the whole mating thing. We’re connected on a level that even I don’t understand.” She nodded and ran to the door. “Trust me, O’Hara’s magick is strong. Jakobi won’t know you’re here unless you screw up.”

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Sweat broke out along her forehead, and she wiped it away impatiently. Julian looked like he might protest, but she was ready to knock him on his ass if he did so.

His mouth lifted into a smile, and she clenched her hands into fists as she took a step toward him. But at the last moment he surprised her and slipped by, his tangy scent tickling inside her nostrils before he disappeared into the gathering dusk.

The air left her lungs in a

wild gasp, and Jaden whirled around, grabbing the second glass off the table, the one Julian’s fingers had been all over, and she tossed it into the trash behind the bar. She’d just smoothed her wild mass of hair around her shoulders when the elevator door slid back, and Jakobi DaCosta entered her suite.

As if he owned the fucking place.

He was followed by a large warrior, Benicio, one of his elite guard. The jaguar warrior ignored her and stood to the side, maintaining a respectful distance between himself and Jakobi.

Hatred awakened inside her as she smiled at her father, her face tight and unnatural. For a moment it shadowed the fear that was also present, but then the walls in the room shrank, and the air that she dragged into her lungs thinned.

It felt like he’d sucked the life out of her home in less than five seconds. She had to give it to him; that was some kind of record.

Her father was a tall man, with sleek, predatory lines. His powerful frame was draped in expensive Italian, Brioni, if she wasn’t mistaken. He’d always had a love of the finer things in life, and the empire he’d built on the backs of innocents went a long way in supporting his endeavors.

Night Sky Resort and Casino was her baby, though, the one thing his evil had not been able to penetrate. A gift from her mother, and one Jaden would protect until the day she died.

He looked at her closely, and his nostrils flared subtly. For a second, she stopped breathing. Did he sense Julian?

But then his gaze fell upon the broken pottery at his feet, and he grimaced. He kicked at it dispassionately, daring to scuff the leather shoes that he wore, then slowly walked around it, crunching several small remnants into nothing more than dust as he did so.

“I was never fond of that piece,” he said, and smiled, though the cruel depths of his eyes never changed. “Your mother’s taste left a lot to be desired.” The silver in his hair glistened eerily, creating a striking foil to his darkly tanned skin. “I suggest you call a porter immediately.”