trace-proof cages—any more than she could imagine life without showers. Both scenarios were barbaric to Kaderin.
Now, seeing Bowen’s expression, Kaderin wondered if the Lykae eschewed buying spells simply because the witches creeped them out. “Do you know what the prize is?” she asked again.
“I doona ken exactly,” he said, his attention locked on the two. “But I know enough to warn you that I’ll kill for it.” He finally faced her to say, “And I daresay killing you would jeopardize the Lykae’s tenuous truce with the Valkyrie.”
“So, because of Emma and Lachlain’s marriage, I should back out? Even though this is my competition, and has been since you were a wittle puppy?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’d rather no’ hurt you, all in all. I’ve never struck a female, much less done the damage I’ve heard this contest calls for. Damage like you’ve meted out.”
“Werewolf, don’t hate the player—hate the game.” She turned from him, dismissing him. An early broken leg would put the dog out.
At least there wasn’t a vamp—
The vampire appeared out of thin air.
Her claws scrabbled along the railing as she fought to stay upright.
8
H ow in the hell did he find me? She had marble under four claws from where she’d just saved herself from a fall.
He’d first appeared in the back of the gallery, and now she watched as he traced into a darkened corner. No one had noticed him yet—or they’d be scattering as if someone had pulled the fire alarm—because he was able to half-trace, barely visible and unscentable to the low creatures. She’d seen vampires who were able to do that clever trick, but they’d been much older.
Yet she’d seen him perfectly. And, great Freya, if he’d been handsome before, now the vampire was devastating.
Everything about him was different. He’d gained muscle in the last week, making his shoulders broader and the muscles in his arms and legs fuller. His clothing was casual but expensive, with a tailored fit that highlighted his powerful body. His thick, straight black hair was still long but trimmed.
But how in the hell did he find Riora’s temple?
Her first thought was that there was a Valkyrie stoolie, feeding him information about her movements. But no, even the rogue ones she feuded with would never betray her—especially not to a vampire.
It must have been the villagers. Those little punks! Her eyes narrowed. Those little condemned punks.
A young winged demon unwittingly scampered past his leg, and from Sebastian’s reaction, Kaderin knew he’d never seen beings like these. He was hiding his surprise well, which was a good habit to have, since the denizens here would home in on all his reactions, seeking out a weakness.
If he limped, their claws would be drawn to his leg. If he fell to his knees, their fangs would go for his jugular without thought. Such was the world of the Lore.
“Valkyrie,” Bowen intoned from behind her. “I’ve something for you.”
How dare he interrupt her staring? She turned and beheld... diamonds. A gorgeous diamond necklace, offered in his palm.
One of the few Valkyrie weaknesses was the fact that glittering jewels could mesmerize them. Valkyrie had inherited the need to acquire from their goddess mother Freya, and stones like these held a fatal attraction of sorts. Not just any shiny bauble—cubic zirconia wouldn’t do it—but deep, vibrant diamonds.
Valkyrie trained exhaustively to be able to resist, yet Kaderin hadn’t bothered in centuries. Aversion training tended to be tricky when there was no inclination to possess.
Had Kaderin been a feeler, she would have been spellbound by the dazzling stones, as he obviously intended. She might have been fascinated by the way the temple’s fires illumined them, making them sparkle, or enthralled with the tiny pinprick spears of flame-red light. Glint, glint, glint...
She jerked her gaze up. Odd that she wasn’t a feeler, and yet something
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