Guild Hunter 04 - Archangel's Blade

expression, she stalked back to the car. There were other ways to get to Jewel Wan’s showcase of a home.
    Except Dmitri slammed the car door shut before she could reach it. “Jewel allows trained attack dogs to roam free on her estate and has a standing guard of four who all carry substantial weaponry.”
    “Take your hand off the door.” Sliding out her gun, she pushed the barrel into his heart hard enough to bruise. “At this range,” she said, flicking back the safety, “I’ll do enough damage to put you down for hours.”
    “Why this one?” A quiet question that cut her like a knife, destroying the ice that had carried her this far. “Valeria you handled with preternatural calm. Jewel drives you to insanity.”
    Her muscles spasmed. Wrenching away the gun before she shot him by accident, she flicked on the safety and turned to look at the road she’d driven down only minutes before. When he came to stand at her back, she knew he was blocking the pilot from seeing her. That small act, it shattered her. “She didn’t hurt me.” A rough whisper. “Not until the very end.”
    “Yet your hatred for her is so deep it blinds.” He touched his hands to her bare forearms, and she was startled when she didn’t pull away, when she allowed him to align his chest to her back, the masculine heat of him seeping through to her very bones.
    It did nothing to wipe away the shame and humiliation that had her stomach in knots, but it melted the final fragments of ice, leaving her acutely exposed, vulnerable. “Except for the leader and his games at the start, the others,” she said, shivering with a cold iet quest had nothing to do with the temperature, “no matter what else they did, only tried to force pleasure on me with their bite.”
    Dmitri rubbed his hands down her arms, his breath hot at her temple.
    “Everything else,” she continued, sinking into his heat, “was about power, about control.” When that failed to crush her, they’d amused themselves by making her scream instead. “But Jewel, she injected me with something . . . and then she touched me.” So delicate, so gentle, so horrifying.
    It was near impossible to get air into her lungs now, her breath jerky, her blood pumping in erratic bursts. But she said the words, because the shame was too huge a thing to keep inside any longer. “She made me orgasm. Over and over.” Her body’s betrayal had broken something deep within her, taken the last shred of defiant pride.
    Dmitri’s hands clenched tight on her arms. “It’s not only men,” he said, his voice rigid with control, “who can be aroused against their will.”
    Shuddering, she turned into his embrace, pressing her face against his chest. Except for Ash’s quick hugs, it was the first time she’d allowed anyone to hold her since the abduction, the first time she’d been able to bear it. Maybe it was because her humiliation was so strong she had no room for fear . . . and maybe it was because he understood in a way no one else ever would.
    “I hate her, Dmitri.” It was a hard, jagged thing inside of her, this hatred. “More than anyone else.”
    Dmitri stroked his hand over her hair, bending his head to whisper a dark promise in her ear. “I can do to her what she did to you.” Black satin around her senses. “It would be nothing to break her until she was a whimpering, crawling shell.”
    Her response was immediate—and violent. “ No. You don’t touch the bitch.” Then, perhaps because she was half mad, she added, “You do and I swear I’ll shoot off both your hands at the wrists.” He was hers, and she didn’t care if that was the obsession speaking, didn’t care that she’d told herself not to make a claim. Dmitri was hers.
    A vibration against her chest. Dmitri’s laughter.
     
    He drove the rest of the way, though the chopper would’ve been faster—they decided the extra time would allow her to calm down. That proved impossible, but she did manage to get a grip on her emotions to the extent that she was no longer blind to the stupidity of rash behavior on her part in the upcoming confrontation.
    It was as they were heading down the last stretch of road—one devoid of streetlights—that her phone rang again. This time she picked it up. “Vivek.”
    “Honor, are you all right?”
    “You ask that after you sicced Dmitri on me?”
    A strained laugh. “Not my fault you have friends in scary places.”
    “I’m fine.” He’d saved her life, and