Free Veil of Midnight by Lara Adrián Page A

him.

    He chuckled at that as he placed the blade on its elegant wrapper with the other three of the set. They were beautiful weapons, sleek and perfectly balanced, obviously hand-crafted. Niko let his gaze stray over the tooling on the carved sterling silver hilts. The pattern appeared to be a flourish of vines and flowers, but as he looked closer he realized that each of the four blades also bore a single word engraved lovingly within its ornate design: Faith. Courage. Honor. Sacrifice.

    A warrior’s creed? he wondered. Or were they the tenets of Renata’s personal discipline instead?

    Nikolai thought about the kiss they’d shared. Well, to say they had shared it was a stretch, considering how he’d descended on her mouth with all the finesse of a freight train. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Yeah, and just who was he trying to kid? He couldn’t have stopped himself from doing it if he’d tried. Not that it was any excuse. And not that Renata had given him any chance to fumble through excuses or apologies.

    Niko could still see the horror in her eyes, the unexpected yet obvious revulsion for what he had done. He could still feel the sincerity of the threat she delivered just before she hightailed it out of the building.

    The dented part of his ego tried to soothe him with the possibility that maybe she really did despise males in general. Or that maybe she was just as cold as Lex seemed to think, a sexless, frigid soldier who just happened to have the face of an angel and a body that called to mind all manner of sins. Too many sins, each more tempting than the last.

    Nikolai had an easy charm when it came to women; not a total boast, but a conclusion he’d reached based on years of experience. When it came to females, he enjoyed easy, uncomplicated conquests—the more

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    temporary the better. Chases and struggles were amusing, but best saved for true combat, in bloody battles with Rogue vampires and other enemies of the Order. Those were the challenges he relished most.

    So why was he fighting such a wicked urge to go after Renata now and see if he couldn’t thaw some of the ice that encased her?

    Because he was an idiot, that’s why. An idiot with a raging hard-on and an apparent death wish.

    Time to get his eye back on the damned ball. It didn’t matter what his body was telling him—no more than it mattered what he saw in Mira’s gaze. He had a job to do, a mission for the Order, and that was the only reason he was here.

    Niko carefully wrapped Renata’s daggers in their silk-and-velvet case and placed the small bundle on the bale of straw to await her return for them and her discarded shoes.

    He left the kennel outbuilding and headed into the darkness to pick up his search of the lodge grounds. A crescent moon hung high in the night sky, veiled by a smattering of thin, coal-gray clouds. The midnight breeze was warm, sifting gently through the spiny firs and tall oaks of the surrounding woods. Scents mingled in that humid summer air: the tang of pine pitch, the musty stamp of shaded soil and moss, the mineral crispness of fresh, rolling water from a stream that evidently cut through the property not far from where Niko stood.

    Nothing unexpected. Nothing out of place.

    Until…

    Nikolai lifted his chin and cocked his head slightly to the west. Something very unexpected drifted across his senses. Something that could not, should not, belong here.

    It was death he smelled now.

    Subtle, old…but certain.

    He jogged in the direction his nose led him. Deeper into the forest. Some hundred yards away from the lodge, the thicket dipped sharply. Niko slowed as he reached the place where his nostrils began to burn with

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    the stench of aging decay. At his feet, the leaf-strewn, vine-tangled ground dropped away into a steep ravine.

    Nikolai glanced down into the cleft, sickened even before his eyes settled on the carnage.

    “Holy hell,” he muttered, low under his breath.

    A pit of death lay