Free Eve of Warefare by Sylvia Day Page B

her rotten luck that her romantic entanglements with Cain and Abel made her the squeaky wheel.
    Easier said than done, she shot back.
    Zaphiel is always a prick. Despite the subject matter, Reed’s velvety smooth voice was a delight to hear.
    Her not-quite-a-relationship with Alec Cain’s brother was one of the many complexities in her life. Alec had ridden into her life on a Harley when she was almost eighteen and by the time he left, he’d taken her virginity and her heart. She was still comparing other men to him ten years later when Reed Abel entered her life and branded her with the Mark of Cain. That had been the start of a triangular relationship she’d once thought would be impossible for her. How could she feel so strongly for Reed when she was absolutely certain that Alec Cain was the love of her life?
    “I would prefer that you not injure yourself unnecessarily,” Zaphiel said calmly.
    Twisting in her seat to face him, she asked with equal calm, “What’s your problem?”
    “I have no problem.”
    “I’m a single unit. Got it? Not that you need to know, but asking about Cain and Abel is pointless. They’ve got their personal lives, and I have—”
    “—none,” he finished.
    “Drop it. Now.” Alec was her mentor, her friend and one of only a handful of people in her Marked life whom she trusted to have her best interests at heart. He was an integral, daily part of her life; they shared the same sort of mental connection she had with Reed. Through that bond, she felt the wall inside him that blocked his love from her. It was the worst sort of torture to be linked to him, yet farther apart than they’d ever been.
    Smiling, Zaphiel looked forwards. “I will say no more.”
    With an imperious wave of his hand, he directed for her to continue. Eve fumed for the next quarter of an hour until they began to climb the side of a steep hill. Then her attention was caught by the size and elegance of the mansions they passed on their ascent to the top. The space between homes grew wider until they stopped seeing any houses at all. The last mile was marked only by the road.
    Eventually, they reached a gate that blocked further public access. A guardhouse stood on the right from which a burly male in an athletic suit stepped out. Zaphiel lowered the window and his sunglasses disappeared, revealing his face. Wary recognition shadowed the guard’s features before he stepped back and hit the remote that opened the two heavy wrought-iron gates.
    The drive up to the main house from that point was at least a half-mile. Security cameras were prominently positioned along the way in gaps of approximately twenty feet. When the manse itself came into view, Eve was so taken by the simplistic beauty of its organic architecture that her foot lifted from the gas pedal and the car decelerated to a gentle rolling stop behind a silver Bentley. The residence scaled the side of the hill in three tiers that boasted wide wrap-around balconies. Distressed wood siding, rock terraces and exposed wooden beams enabled the house to blend into its surroundings.
    Zaphiel exited the car. Eve turned the engine off and jumped out, catching his questioning gaze over the roof.
    “I’m going in with you,” she said preemptively. Her interior design sensibilities were sharply engaged by the cohesiveness between the building and its surroundings. She was eager to examine the interior but, more than that, he’d dragged her all the way out here. Maybe having her play chauffeur, followed by irritating her in the car had been the reasons for that – she wouldn’t put the desire for petty amusements past any angel – but she damn sure wasn’t going to leave empty-handed when faced with such an architectural marvel.
    “As you wish.” Zaphiel followed her gaze to the two guards flanking the double front doors. Rounding the front of the car, she drew abreast of him and they approached the entrance in tandem.
    The door opened before they reached