Without Regret (Pyte/Sentinel 2)

“No, Master,” Brad answered with a shake of his head.

Logan continued to watch the man as he addressed the rest of them. “Is this true? There was nothing you could do?”

“Yes, Master,” they murmured their agreement.

“Of course. I understand. A group of Sentinels came and there was nothing you could do to get my property,”

he said in sympathetic tone.

“I’m sorry, Ma-” Brad began to say before a surprised gasp left his mouth. He stared in horror at Logan before he slowly looked down to find a large gaping hole in his chest.

Logan tossed the blood soaked heart in his hand, ignoring the man as he fell to the ground. “Tell me again why the three of you ran from Sentinels and allowed them to take my prize?” he asked, still tossing the heart in the air and catching it.

“We’re sorry, Master,” John said, trying not to look at the now smoldering body.

He caught the heart and gestured with it towards the large pile of computer equipment. “And all this?”

Thomas licked his lips nervously. “We went to her apartment and grabbed all her computer equipment and discs before the Sentinels could get them.”

That actually pleased him so he decided to let them live. For now. “Take all of this,” he said, gesturing with the heart again, “to be looked at. I want to know the very second you find the Tattletale program.”

He tossed the heart onto the smoldering body. “But just in case, find Isabella McGuire.”

“And if she’s found her mate?” Thomas asked as he tried not to glance at the now smoking body.

Logan thought it over for a minute. Killing her mate would be the smart thing to do, but he couldn’t ignore all the possibilities that went along with having his prize’s mate.

“Grab him,” he decided, only to frown when he looked over at the two men who had already failed him. He had too much riding on this to take any more chances.

There was only one way he could guarantee that he was the one to find her, unfortunately it was also the one thing he promised himself he would never do, but it didn’t look like he had much of a choice at the moment.

“Get me Kale Quinn.”

**************

“Do you want some ice?” Chris asked, trying his best not to smile and failing miserably judging by the glare she was sending his way.

“No,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her right hand and narrowing her eyes accusingly on his jaw. No doubt she blamed his jaw for hurting her hand. It wasn’t as though he knew she was going to deck him as soon as he set her down in the living room. Granted, he should have, but he’d been rather distracted. He certainly hadn’t known his little mate didn’t know how to throw a proper punch.

They’d have to work on that.

He leaned forward from his perched position on the overstuffed chair and reached out to take her hand in his. She immediately jerked back, cradling the hand against her chest.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, reaching out again only to have her plaster herself against the back of the couch and as far away from him as she could get.

With a resigned sigh he sat back in his chair. “Next time don’t tuck your thumb in your fist.”

She mumbled something about taking kickboxing lessons, but he wasn’t really paying attention. His jaw clenched almost painfully as he ran his eyes over the already bruised and swollen fingers she was cradling.

There was no doubt in his mind that she’d broken them.

He’d had enough broken bones in his lifetime to know how to spot one. Thankfully broken fingers usually healed within a few hours thanks to Sentinel blood.

Not that she knew that little tidbit of information, but she had to wonder why she healed faster than everyone else and never got sick. When he was a kid, long before he found out what and who he was, he just thought he was a lucky bastard. While most people took months for a broken bone to heal it took him a few hours for a small bone and maybe a week for a larger bone.

He wasn’t exactly sure about the scientific reasoning behind their healing abilities, but he knew it had something to do with half his soul belonging to an angel. No doubt it did something to his human body.

Many Sentinels believed that when the half souls combined it triggered something in their DNA, giving them protection, sweetening their blood, and prolonging their lives. Whatever it was it had come in handy a time or two in his life. It also connected him to the woman who held the other halves of his souls, this woman, making her his mate.

When his eyes began to trail down her body he had to force himself not to groan. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he discretely grabbed a floral throw pillow and placed it over his lap. How in the hell did human males live like this? he wondered, shifting again as his erection threatened to tear through his pants. It was damn distracting and something he was clearly going to have to learn to ignore.

It’s not like sex was a top priority in his life or even interested him. Even as a teenager he couldn’t force himself to be into it. Sure he’d made out with his fair share of girls in high school, but that had been more to save face than anything.

His situation had already been f**ked up enough without letting everyone think he didn’t like girls.

Having a hooker for a mother hadn’t exactly been easy, but he’d managed. As long as he didn’t have to deal with foster homes he’d been happy. It hadn’t mattered that sometimes he had to sleep under the trailer because her “dates” hadn’t felt comfortable f**king her with only an old sheet used as a door separating them, or that most of his food came from charity, school lunches, and five finger discount.

Okay, so happy might not be the way he described his childhood, but it had been manageable as long he’d stayed out of foster homes and didn’t let everyone know how truly f**ked up his life really was. As long as everyone thought he was untouchable and that nothing could hurt him he’d been fine. Just f**king peachy.

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant!” he heard his sister Jill shriek happily from the foyer. Cursing under his breath, he quickly made his way over to the double doors and shut them, hoping she was too wrapped up in Madison’s news to notice.

For the past ten years she’d been taunting the hell out of him about his mate, but thankfully not in a bitchy way. Her bitchy days were long gone, thank god. He’d probably have killed her by now if she was anything like she was the first time he met her.

When she first arrived in Rerum, New Hampshire with Madison, Joshua and their mother Candy, she’d been a Class A bitch, much like Candy. At least for the first week of her arrival, then she kind of simmered down a bit. He wasn’t sure what the hell happened, but he had a feeling Madison and Grandma were behind the change. She’d still been a bit of a spoiled bitch at times after that, but he’d done his best to stay the hell out of her way when he moved in.