turtleneck sweater and silk slacks.
Of course, even if he kept his eyes covered he would never pass as a norm.
Not when his powers filled the air with a constant chill.
Few people could remain in the same room with him without being battered by the urge to flee. Not if they had a functioning brain.
In the middle of trying to decipher a particularly difficult passage, Zak reached for the Baccarat crystal glass that was filled with a priceless cognac.
He basked in the warm glow that slid down his throat, setting it aside as a knock on the door interrupted his blessed silence.
“Enter,” he called, resting back in his leather chair as the young, burly man hesitantly stepped into the room.
Stanley York had been released from jail less than a year before and anxious for a quick influx of cash. Which meant he was willing to do anything with no questions asked.
Wearing faded jeans and a sleeveless tee, his features were blunt with dark, cunning eyes and his hair buzzed to his skull. He had several tattoos, but none of them were magical. A ridiculous waste of ink.
Always edgy in Zak’s presence, the ex-con lingered near the open door, his gaze darting around the room as if sensing unseen eyes. “Forgive me.”
“You have news?” Zak asked in a soft, accented voice.
“Yes.” The henchman glanced toward Zak without meeting his gaze. For all his tough-guy attitude, he was as spineless as everyone else beneath Zak’s diamond stare. “Tony retrieved the ... bundle.”
Zak tapped a slender finger on the edge of the desk, his flawless features impossible to read. “He packed it precisely as I told him to?”
The man grimaced. “I promise he followed your directions as if his life depended on it.”
“A wise choice,” Zak murmured.
It was amazing how eager his servants were to please him after witnessing him remove the heart of a fellow servant who was unfortunate enough to have returned to the house without their latest package.
“Yeah.” Stanley cleared his throat. “He should be here in two hours. Maybe less, depending on the traffic.”
“Make sure he doesn’t do anything that would attract the attention of the authorities.” His voice remained soft. Only a bully needed to shout and bluster. Zak led with pure, unrelenting fear. Far more efficient. “I will be excessively displeased if my name appears in a police report.”
“He’s a pro at avoiding the authorities. Everything’s under control.”
“You’d better pray that’s true.”
Stanley paled to an interesting shade of gray. “Yes, professor.” His hands twitched, as if he didn’t know quite what to do with them. “Will there be anything else?”
“I want to know the minute Tony arrives.”
“Of course.”
Shuffling backward, Stanley shut the door before beating a hasty retreat back to the servants’ quarters.
Zak reached for his glass, draining the cognac as he waited for the shadow to detach from the far bookshelf, revealing a female form.
He’d sensed Anya’s presence for the past half hour, but he’d been in no mood to deal with her.
Now he accepted that she wasn’t going to leave him in peace until she’d had her say.
“Thugs,” she muttered in disgust.
He set aside his glass, his gaze indifferently flicking over the tight black dress that revealed more than it concealed. With her long red hair flowing down her back in a shimmering river of fire, the witch was a fantasy come to life.
Not that he was in the mood to appreciate her beauty. Unlike most men he wasn’t controlled by his cock.
Not ever.
“True, but every general needs a few expendable soldiers to do the grunt work,” he reminded his companion.
“A pity they have to be so stupid.” She halted next to the desk, the scent of herbs and blood clinging to her. A sure indication she’d been in her rooms brewing up some concoction or another. “It’s entirely their fault the body was found by the authorities.”
Zak steepled his fingers beneath
Of course, even if he kept his eyes covered he would never pass as a norm.
Not when his powers filled the air with a constant chill.
Few people could remain in the same room with him without being battered by the urge to flee. Not if they had a functioning brain.
In the middle of trying to decipher a particularly difficult passage, Zak reached for the Baccarat crystal glass that was filled with a priceless cognac.
He basked in the warm glow that slid down his throat, setting it aside as a knock on the door interrupted his blessed silence.
“Enter,” he called, resting back in his leather chair as the young, burly man hesitantly stepped into the room.
Stanley York had been released from jail less than a year before and anxious for a quick influx of cash. Which meant he was willing to do anything with no questions asked.
Wearing faded jeans and a sleeveless tee, his features were blunt with dark, cunning eyes and his hair buzzed to his skull. He had several tattoos, but none of them were magical. A ridiculous waste of ink.
Always edgy in Zak’s presence, the ex-con lingered near the open door, his gaze darting around the room as if sensing unseen eyes. “Forgive me.”
“You have news?” Zak asked in a soft, accented voice.
“Yes.” The henchman glanced toward Zak without meeting his gaze. For all his tough-guy attitude, he was as spineless as everyone else beneath Zak’s diamond stare. “Tony retrieved the ... bundle.”
Zak tapped a slender finger on the edge of the desk, his flawless features impossible to read. “He packed it precisely as I told him to?”
The man grimaced. “I promise he followed your directions as if his life depended on it.”
“A wise choice,” Zak murmured.
It was amazing how eager his servants were to please him after witnessing him remove the heart of a fellow servant who was unfortunate enough to have returned to the house without their latest package.
“Yeah.” Stanley cleared his throat. “He should be here in two hours. Maybe less, depending on the traffic.”
“Make sure he doesn’t do anything that would attract the attention of the authorities.” His voice remained soft. Only a bully needed to shout and bluster. Zak led with pure, unrelenting fear. Far more efficient. “I will be excessively displeased if my name appears in a police report.”
“He’s a pro at avoiding the authorities. Everything’s under control.”
“You’d better pray that’s true.”
Stanley paled to an interesting shade of gray. “Yes, professor.” His hands twitched, as if he didn’t know quite what to do with them. “Will there be anything else?”
“I want to know the minute Tony arrives.”
“Of course.”
Shuffling backward, Stanley shut the door before beating a hasty retreat back to the servants’ quarters.
Zak reached for his glass, draining the cognac as he waited for the shadow to detach from the far bookshelf, revealing a female form.
He’d sensed Anya’s presence for the past half hour, but he’d been in no mood to deal with her.
Now he accepted that she wasn’t going to leave him in peace until she’d had her say.
“Thugs,” she muttered in disgust.
He set aside his glass, his gaze indifferently flicking over the tight black dress that revealed more than it concealed. With her long red hair flowing down her back in a shimmering river of fire, the witch was a fantasy come to life.
Not that he was in the mood to appreciate her beauty. Unlike most men he wasn’t controlled by his cock.
Not ever.
“True, but every general needs a few expendable soldiers to do the grunt work,” he reminded his companion.
“A pity they have to be so stupid.” She halted next to the desk, the scent of herbs and blood clinging to her. A sure indication she’d been in her rooms brewing up some concoction or another. “It’s entirely their fault the body was found by the authorities.”
Zak steepled his fingers beneath
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