“That’s what you’re going to tell me,” he assured her. “So start explaining.”

“I’ve told you—”

He heaved a mock sigh of disappointment, his fingers slowly, ruthlessly tightening around her throat.

“We have been together a very long time, Anya. I didn’t want to have to hurt you.” His fingers slowly, ruthlessly began to crush her throat. “But I will.”

“Don’t,” she managed to croak, tears streaming down her ashen cheeks.

“Tell me, witch.” He leaned down until they were nose to nose, the chill of his power swirling through the air. “Tell me why.”

She shuddered in pain, her hands lifting to grasp his wrists.

“Because I love you,” she hissed.

“Love?”

His humorless laugh echoed through the study. This woman was capable of lust, greed, and a narcissistic ambition. But love?

A barracuda had more of a heart than she did.

“Yes,” she insisted, a sudden color returning to her cheeks. “You can’t be surprised. Why would any woman devote her life to a man if not for love?”

“You truly must believe me to be a fool,” he sneered, his fingers easing just enough to allow her to suck in a shaky breath.

He wanted this to be slow.

And painful.

Very, very painful.

“It’s the truth,” she pleaded.

“I don’t claim to be an expert on human emotions, but I’m fairly certain that love doesn’t include treachery.” He met her wary gaze, his expression cold, merciless. “Not unless you happen to be a character from Shakespeare. And you know how much I detest Shakespeare.”

“It didn’t start off as treachery.”

“No?”

“No.” The amulet around her neck glowed with a faint light. No doubt a last-ditch attempt to sway him into believing her imploring words. She’d always had a talent for coercing others. Unfortunately for her, he’d never been susceptible. “When we first met I was attracted to your power. That was why I assisted you in gaining the attention of the czarina.”

He made a sound of disgust. “I didn’t need your assistance.”

“Maybe not, but you would never have known of your destiny unless I had revealed the temple to you.”

“It would have been revealed eventually. My fate has been waiting for me since the dawn of civilization.” Zak lifted his shoulder in a dismissive gesture. “Besides, I promised to make you queen of the world. A fair trade for your information.”

“And that’s all I desired. Even after I rescued you from the flames and protected you from your enemies. It wasn’t until—” She deliberately allowed her words to trail away.

“Until?”

“Until we became lovers that my feelings deepened.”

“Lovers?” His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “We had sex to ensure my ultimate victory.”

She swiftly disguised the fury that flared through her eyes.

“Call it whatever you want,” she said, lowering her voice to a seductive invitation. “I spent night after night in your arms and it created a bond between us.”

Ntght after night . . .

Zak snapped his teeth together, struck by her soft words.

Christ. He’d just sworn he wasn’t a fool, but it was obvious that’s exactly what he’d been.

This . . . female . . . had used his lack of interest in the tedious details of procreation to hold him hostage.

And the most galling part of all, was that he hadn’t even suspected he was being played.

“You clever little bitch.”

With each frigid word his fingers tightened, his nails digging into her skin until blood dripped down her throat.

“Zak,” Anya squawked, her eyes bulging. “Stop.”

“You claimed that your dark magic made it almost impossible for you to conceive,” he snarled, his lips curled with disgust. “A lie, wasn’t it, Anya?”

It took several tries before she could speak past the pain. “Not entirely.”

“A lie.”

“No.” She helplessly gripped his wrists, trying to pry away his punishing hand. “It truly is more difficult.”

He studied her pale face with an uncharacteristic loathing. Emotions were a waste of energy. Regrettably, there were times when they refused to be suppressed.

Like now.

“But you made certain it was impossible.”

“Yes,” she rasped. “I knew once you had what you wanted you would no longer invite me to your bend.”

“So why—” He bit off his question, abruptly recalling the days before Anya’s announcement she was at last pregnant. “Of course. I said I was weary of your lack of production. I intended to find another woman to carry my seed.”

She lowered her gaze, artfully allowing her lips to quiver. Such a fine performance, he sourly acknowledged. A pity she didn’t have an audience to appreciate her effort.

“I couldn’t allow you to take another lover.”

“Allow?”

“I was desperate,” she said in tragic tones. “In the end, all I could do was give you the child you wanted and hope that you could see that we were so much more than mere partners.”

He made a sound of disgust. “You were never my partner.”

Her performance faltered as a surge of bitterness darkened her eyes.

“No, I was merely a means to an end,” she muttered.

True enough. His fingers tightened, making her shudder in agony.

“When did you begin betraying me to the Brotherhood?” he asked.

She clutched at his arms, a panic twisting her face as the bones began to pop in her neck.

“I can’t . . . breathe.”

“Oh, I think you can if you really try, my dear,” he drawled. Witches didn’t have the healing capabilities of a Sentinel, but they did have a higher tolerance to damage than mere humans. “Now, one more time. When did you begin betraying me to the Brotherhood?”

The amulet glowed, but this time it wasn’t a futile effort to glamour him. No. Anya was frantically draining the stored magic to keep herself alive.

“Not long after you realized you could sense their presence,” she grated.

How many years had been wasted because of this bitch?

How long had he been denied his fate?

Anya would pay for each and every day she’d cost him.

“You never intended for me to take my place as ruler.”

“Of course I did,” she tried to plead. “I hoped that once you were truly committed to me—”

“Ah. You wanted a puppet you could lead around by the cock,” he sliced through her words, understanding at last.

Clearly Anya’s definition of love was beguiling a man until he was blinded by lust.

She dug her nails into his wrists as her legs began to sag. He was keeping her on the edge of death and her body was only minutes from a total collapse.

“And what about you?”

He shrugged. “I prefer not to be the puppet of an overly ambitious bitch.”

Any pretense of affection drained from the emerald eyes to reveal the bitter resentment that festered beneath the surface.

“I meant that you’re no better than me,” she hissed. “You had no intention of making me your queen.”

His laugh was mocking. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

“An empty promise.” Her head fell back, her skin becoming a pasty white as her magic faltered and the full impact of her injuries took their toll. “You’re willing to sacrifice anyone, including your own family, to achieve your goals. I have never doubted for a second that I would be as easily destroyed once I was no longer any use to you.” She gave an agonized laugh, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. “I could only hope to make myself indispensable.”

“Ah. No one is indispensable, Anya,” he taunted, his fingers tightening until her windpipe was crushed. “A pity.”

With the last of her strength, she reached up to rake her nails down his cheek.

“I’ll see you in hell,” she promised.

Zak heard the sound of the door opening behind him, and the muttered curse as the intruder caught sight of him ruthlessly squeezing out the last of Anya’s life. But his gaze never shifted from the emerald eyes, a smile touching his lips as he savored her slow death.

Yes. This was his finest talent.

And his greatest pleasure.

He heard the sound of metal scraping against leather as the man behind him drew a gun.

“What the fuck is going on here?” he growled, his voice not quite steady.

“Patience, cop,” Zak commanded, the dark power stirring deep inside him. “You’re next.”

Duncan wasn’t a sentimental kind of guy.

Or at least . . . he’d never thought of himself as sentimental. Not until Callie Brown.

Lying on his side, he studied the tiny female who was tucked next to him. He’d been awake for hours, enchanted by the sight of her sleeping in his arms.

The pale, delicate features. The fiery hair that reflected her indomitable spirit. The lush curve of her lips that hinted at her passion. And the slender body that held a strength that would have shocked most people.

He’d cared for Susan. He truly had.

But this woman . . .

She fit against him with absolute perfection. Like two puzzle pieces that had finally been assembled.

There, see?

Sentimental.

And something else. Something fiercely possessive and dangerously protective.

He grimaced, his fingers lightly stroking over her bare shoulder. Despite his assurances to Callie that he was prepared to deal with the inevitable prejudices, he was still anxious to put his fist in Frank’s face.

Friend or not, the man had no right to try and intimidate Callie. If he thought Duncan was making a mistake then he should have confronted him face to face. That he could respect. Not acting like a bully behind his back.