Page 35 of Shielded Heart

Perfect.

“Who is with her?” Vaund asked. A tall sedhi stood near her in each image, often holding her hand; only the back of his head visible in most of the stills.

“Don’t know, boss,” said Straek. “Some sedhi she was walking with. They spotted me before the last one.”

Something sparked in Vaund’s gut as he neared the final image in the chain; the sensation was heavy and hot, and he somehow knew what he was going to see. He somehow knewwhohe was going to see.

In the final image, the sedhi had turned to face Straek directly. Vaund knew those yellow eyes, knew theqalon the sedhi’s face and neck, knew the curve of those horns. He even knew the distinctive shape of those smug lips.

He’s dead. I fuckingkilledhim.

Vaund grasped the arms of the chair; the frame within creaked, groaned, and snapped. Arcanthus wasdead.

“How long did you follow them?” he asked.

“Couple hours, maybe,” said Straek. “They held hands while they walked around. Stopped in a few shops. Took in the sights.”

Though Vaund could only speculate, it was likely that the terran was in a relationship with Arcanthus. It was likely that she was important to him.

Which meant there was a chance she could be used to locate him…or to lure him out of hiding.

“Find her. I want a name; I want a location.”

“We’ll get on it right away, boss. She’s probably chipped, though. Might complicate things.”

“We’re not taking her yet. I just want her found. The sedhi she was with needs to die. Once he’s dead, we’ll capture the terran.”

Straek’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth, and Vaund could almost sense the questions that nearly tumbled out before the groalthuun snapped his jaw shut again.

Vaund twisted in his chair, turning his face—or rather the vague suggestion of a face his helmet presented—toward Straek. “This one isn’t on the books. Do you understand?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Leave me. I don’t want to be bothered again until you know where she is.”

The groalthuun nodded and hurried out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Vaund resumed his prior position, but restless, agitated fire pulsed outward from his gut to course through his limbs. He absently flexed and relaxed his fingers as the volume of his respirator increased.

The terran would fetch a high price, and that would benefit the Syndicate—Vaund had climbed the ranks by maximizing the profits he generated for the organization—but Arcanthus needed to die for Vaund’s benefit. His subordinates had no idea who Arcanthus was; none of them had been on Caldorius those years ago, none of them were aware of what had transpired there.

But there were several people in the Syndicate leadership who did know.

And Vaund reported directly to some of them.

Ambition, ruthlessness, and a cold, calculating demeanor had brought Vaund this far, but it would mean little if his superiors discovered that he’d botched the job that had earned him a place within the organization a decade ago. It would make them question everything he’d said and done over the intervening years.

It would all meannothingif they found out Vaund had failed to kill Arcanthus.

He grasped the armrests and wrenched them up, snapping them off the frame and tearing their hide covering.

This time, Arcanthus, I’m taking your head.

Eight

Samantha kept her chin down and held her purchases—clothing and food, all wrapped in different colored packages—against her chest as she strode along the street toward her apartment building. She was exhausted for a good reason; Sarai had given her a few hours of work today and had seemed tempted to allow Sam to keep working even after the borian woman’s unreliable brother finally showed up. The labor had been satisfying—and it had kept Samantha’s mind occupied.

Now, with little to focus on but the people milling around her on the street, she found herself reminiscing.

---