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Ana pursed her mouth, her mind a total mess.
What had she done?
“His name is Kaden.”
“Yeah, I got that already. The kid have a last name?”
Ana shook her head. “No, just Kaden.”
“He’s full of magick.” Declan’s eyes narrowed. At Ana’s tight-lipped stare he swore under his breath. “Where did he come from?”
She watched changing emotions flicker across Declan’s face, and swallowed thickly. “He was abandoned as a toddler. As far as I know his parents are either dead or long gone.”
“Where did you find him?”
Her gaze fell to the ground. “An orphanage in Los Angeles.” She grimaced. “A real shithole of a place. He’d been there since he was two.”
Declan’s dark eyes bored into her. She felt them, the intensity, the anger.
“What does the Seraphim want with him?”
The vampire shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea.”
Ana met his gaze full-on but knew he wasn’t fooled.
Declan O’Hara’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying,” he whispered dangerously as he took a step toward her.
Ana stared at him in silence.
O’Hara was right.
She was totally full of shit.
Chapter 4
Declan turned from Ana, not trusting himself. He glanced around the sparse kitchen and tried to focus on something other than the vampire.
It was no use. What the hell was going on?
He crossed to the window and stared into the backyard and though he tried to appear calm it was fucking killing him. He wanted to grab hold of Ana and . . . do what? Shake her until her head snapped? Kill her? Screw her?
He was confused as all hell, pissed beyond belief, and—he clenched his fists tightly—full of anger.
He’d watched the woman he loved die at the hands of his father. Every night when he closed his eyes it was Ana’s face he saw. Lifeless, pale . . . dead. That had been on him. It was his cross to bear and he’d held it willingly.
Declan’s jaw ached from tension and he blew out a long breath in an effort to center himself.
To find out she’d been alive the entire time and it was Bill, the little fuck, who’d brought her back was like a kick to the gut. Unbelievable. For two years no one had said a word.
Rage flickered inside once more, like a silent whisper. His heart was pounding and powerful energy slid along his skin. The glass window seemed to bow and liquefy but he forced the darkness away and the panes held firm. He would not lose control in front of her.
He’d deal with his anger later. Right now he needed to figure out what the hell was going on.
He turned around and glared at Ana. “You expect me to believe that kid is who the Seraphim are after?”
“I have no reason to lie,” she retorted, her tone sharp. “And it’s not just the Seraphim, Samael has been dogging me for weeks.”
Ana walked past him and yanked open the fridge door. She grabbed a clear bag of blood and threw it in a microwave before turning back to him. He watched her closely and saw how her hand trembled as she waited for her blood to warm. She was definitely jonesing for a fix. Her skin was pale, her blue eyes huge in her face. She looked ethereal, though her small, tight form was dressed in kick-ass denim and leather.
