Page 19 of The Phoenix

After Bounty and Kae exchanged glances, they said in unison, “We’ll be good.”

Damn.

His daughter would be high on sugar when he returned. Skyler would kill him.

She’ll lock those frosty-but-sexy lilac eyes on me while she fists her shapely hips. Maybe she’ll cross her arms, plumping her breasts.

He’d likely fess to stuffing Kae with sweets just for the makeup sex. The best.

****

The tops of Miller Nash’s feet scraped the concrete while two hefty men gripped his arms to drag him down a dim corridor. Joy. He could add a new pain to the cracked ribs.

Thrust through a door, he toppled onto a thick Persian rug where he watched blood drip from his nose to stain it. A chair screeched on the wood floor. As Miller heaved his torso off the ground, his two companions flew past him into a wall to land on their asses. Splat. Couldn’t happen to nicer blokes.

They picked themselves up, the bald guy being the first to his feet. The taller one rose but cradled his elbow.

The man behind the desk glared at the guards, his lips twisted in a snarl. “I ordered he not be harmed.”

Miller chuckled from his spot on the rug.

Too late.

Bald guy opened his mouth to speak, but before the words burbled out, his hands clawed at his own throat. He gasped for air, crumpling to the floor, losing control of his arms and legs.

Miller recognized a corpse when he saw one. This bloke was muy muerto.

Desk guy squeezed his tight lips into a malevolent grin, his eyes deep purple and dark as death. “No excuses.”

Looking at the floor, the tall bloke bowed low while he backed toward the door. “My lord.”

“Sit, Miller Nash.” Dressed in a gray pinstriped suit accented with a crimson necktie, the man with the empty gaze pointed to a chair. If face reflected character, Miller was in ankle-high shite.

Studying his opponent, Miller pushed to his feet, stumbling toward the offered seat, his hand clutching his ribs. As a pained breath escaped his lips, he fell into the chair. “You have me at a disadvantage, mate. You know my name. I don’t know yours.”

“Forgive me, descendant. I am Cerberus.” The bloke laced his fingers together, elbows on his desktop.

Miller eyed the exit, wondering how far he could get barefooted with broken ribs.

“You can’t escape from here. Don’t try. It would be stupid to anger me.”

“Nobody’s complimented me on my intelligence.” Miller shifted in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position.

The door opened. He recognized the bastard who strode in first.

Miller Nash had been on the run a long time before he was captured outside Las Vegas. Taken to a new residence, this vampire had greeted him with a torture session. Though he wanted to tear out the guy’s heart, he kept his gaze neutral.

The muscled Roark swaggered in behind Lort.

Cerberus motioned the arrivals toward chairs. “General, I believe you are familiar with our visiting Blood Coven descendant.”

Lort smiled, his fangs dropping into sight. “Intimately. Roark, meet Miller Nash. He is instrumental in our mission to conquer Earth.”

The shifter nodded, stretching his legs out in front of him. “We’ve met. In fact, we are best buds.”

Miller returned his attention to Cerberus. “While I always enjoy a friendly party in my honor, what do you want?”

“An ally.” Cerberus tilted his head.

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