Free Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) by Tricia Skinner Page B

through most of the Stronghold. He paused on the second floor to point out the closed doors belonging to the brothers, each holding a private bedroom. Jarrid’s room was the farthest away.
    Ionie’s skin prickled with the urge to poke around where she shouldn’t. She took a long look at Jarrid’s closed bedroom door. The desire to slip inside and see what she could learn rattled around her subconscious.
    “I don’t need to read minds to know what you’re thinking, young lady,” Cain said. “Let me give you some advice about my boy, Jarrid.”
    Ionie craved whatever information she could get on her mysterious acquaintance.
    “He holds honor and loyalty above anything else in the world,” Cain said. “He’s an A-grade Alpha, so he doesn’t back down from shit. You follow me so far?”
    She nodded, a ball of unease circling in the pit of her stomach. Cain’s voice turned cold. “You get one shot, like Russian Roulette, to fuck him over. Afterwards, you’ll wish you could move to another planet. When you think about doing something he won’t like, remember what breathing feels like and why you can’t live with your organs outside your body.”
    • • •
    Jarrid maneuvered through the warehouse. The meeting with Tanis and the Directorate lay heavy on his mind, a boulder he couldn’t dislodge. Then there was Ionie. A spark of guilt flashed through him, but he shook it off. An assassin didn’t let doubt stand in the way of a mission. Hell, he never balked at what needed to be done and what tools to use.
    His movements slowed. Ionie wasn’t a tool. She trusted him, liked him. He felt a slight hollowness open in his chest. He recalled her excitement when they’d met. Angels — assholes that they are — fascinated her, and he’d served up a heaping slice of angel cake with sprinkles with his lie. If he could get the Renegade without involving an outsider he’d do it. He wanted to believe the lie anyway.
    “Shit.”
    What would he have to say to keep the curious reporter occupied long enough to find his target? He wasn’t prepared to talk about his childhood, his parents, his training. Political beliefs? Who was he kidding? He didn’t give a shit about politics — or anything beyond name, rank, and shoe size.
    He pictured her and his agitation grew. A blind man could see she was gorgeous, and his eyesight was perfect. Why couldn’t she be a hideous wreck of a woman? Then he recalled the sweet smile she’d bestowed on Cain.
    Of course she’d fall for the charming prick
.
    “Ouch. Way to cut a brother down,” Kas said. He leaned against the game room’s door.
    “Get out of my head,” Jarrid said with a deep growl.
    “Couldn’t help myself. The human’s an eye opener, isn’t she?” Jarrid’s chest constricted. Kas could read anyone he had in his line of sight.
    How long has he been watching?
    “Scope this,” Jarrid said, imagining a rash of horrific ways to punish the eavesdropper. A picture of Kas writhing in a tub of acid earned him a sneer. “Stay out of my head.”
    “That’s just wrong.”
    Jarrid flipped him off. “Where is she?”
    “She and Cain went upstairs, holding hands. He saved the bedroom tour for last.”
    Kas backed into the game room, leaving him fuming. He bounded up the steps four at a time. Outside Cain’s room, he forced himself to calm. He walked in, unannounced.
    Ionie lay on her stomach across Cain’s massive bed, her feet crossed in the air, swaying. He found his brother standing a few yards away at a bookshelf.
    “Busted,” she said, her voice sing-song. When she hid her face in the bed sheets and giggled, Jarrid clenched his fists. He wanted to sit beside her and share her amusement. Why? He had no fucking clue.
    “She used some kind of mind trick on me,” Cain said, his eyes sparkling. “I was at her mercy until you arrived.”
    “What are you talking about?” Jarrid asked, annoyed.
    Ionie sat up and beamed at him full on. Double-wattage smile.