He’s a man who likes control. She’s a woman who’ll never give it.
The Epoch Mages and the Sorceri Bounty Hunters are ALWAYS on opposite sides of any issue. They H-A-T-E each other. But when a rogue witch decides to take over the world using flesh-eating zombies, Ardith and Draigh have to work together to stop her. And though they’ve twisted themselves inside out trying to deny their blistering desire for each other, they soon learn they’ll need to work together to accomplish what many before them have failed to do. Yep, it’s all gonna be uphill from there!
They climbed the sparkling white stairs to the council building, which masqueraded as the Salem Social Club. Despite its name, the club was not open to the general public.
Blackthorne said nothing as they entered the cool, dimly lit foyer, crossed the marble floor and climbed a wide, sweeping staircase to the second level, where the council sat during formal meetings. The chamber was mostly empty at the moment, but as they pushed through the heavy wood doors Ardith quickly realized it wasn’t nearly empty enough.
Sirius’ hair stood on end, his silver eyes sparking as his massive body trembled with barely restrained fury. Ardith placed her hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, to stay him just until she figured out if he had reason to attack.
Ten feet away, standing with feet spread wide, massive arms crossed over his chest, the devil himself glared at her with an ice-blue gaze. Draigh Piers, Sorceri level five and massive thorn in her side, radiated hostility like waves of poisonous magic. “What is she doing here?”
Ardith went rigid. How dare he? “What am I doing here? The sheer size of your balls is only matched by the blackness of your soul, evil sorceri. I belong here. You, on the other hand, are a massive tumor on the backside of this building.”
Reacting to her anger, Sirius snapped his jaws, flinging spittle in a wide arc.
Ardith turned to Blackthorne. “Just say the word and Sirius and I will take care of this…growth…for you.”
Draigh’s arms dropped, his huge hands fisting over the set of deadly knives sheathed against his hip bones. “Try, witch. I welcome the exercise.”