woman is the one mentioned for you?’
A line from the prophecy hummed through Cain’s mind.
Like a rainbow from cloud, an illusion that is real. A woman like no other, to him only will appeal…
‘How many women do you know who are made from rainbows?’ Cain asked, smiling at the memory of Sabra’s multi-hued skin.
‘She’s not made of fucking rainbows,’ Jürgen spat. ‘She’s a chameleon, damn it.’
‘I want her.’ Cain’s voice grew soft and dangerous.
Jürgen rolled his eyes again. ‘You’ve got it bad, my lord. You need to focus on expanding your territory; you need to focus on gaining more power. Not on your fat little rainbow.’
Before he’d even realised what he was doing, Cain found his fingers gripping the thick tendons of Jürgen’s neck and squeezing. Rage boiled up through his body sending his vision red.
How dare the man insult her!
Jürgen gasped, the smell of his sweat permeated the air, and his hands struggled to push Cain away — but Cain was stronger.
‘Jürgen,’ Cain hissed, his eyes narrowed. ‘Never speak of her like that.’ His voice lowered to a growl. ‘Remember who you are speaking to.’ He loosened his grip and allowed Jürgen to take a deep, steadying breath. ‘You speak to your lord. Not some lovesick teen.’ He shoved Jürgen back with a brutal punch to the chest. Unwilling or unable to defend himself against the Warlord’s anger, Jürgen staggered back and landed arse-first on a leather sofa, sending it screeching across the stone floor until it collided with a bookshelf, which shook a rain of books over Jürgen’s head. The women in the den gave startled shrieks and ran. As the door of the den slammed, Cain stalked up towards Jürgen and glared down at him. ‘I do not require power. I have plenty of that. I am not your old Führer. What I require is freedom, for me, my people and my woman. ’
Jürgen scowled. Cain knew he disliked being publicly reprimanded, but he hated being reminded of his Nazi past even more. To his credit, Jürgen recovered quickly.
‘My apologies, lord, I forgot myself.’ He accepted Cain’s outstretched hand without hesitation.
Instead of relaxing, Cain felt his muscles bunch as he hauled Jürgen back to his feet. His guard’s hand was meaty and sweaty. They met eye-to-eye, and for a moment he stared searchingly into Jürgen’s pale blue eyes. Jürgen’s dark past in Nazi Germany was something they’d both like to forget, but criticism of his lady — he couldn’t ignore it.
‘Again, my lord. Apologies,’ Jürgen said thickly. His skin was ruddy with…anger, embarrassment, shame? Cain couldn’t decide.
‘Have we got any closer to locating Sabra?’ He changed the subject, but for the first time a gnawing doubt about Jürgen had taken root.
‘Yes,’ Jürgen acknowledged slowly. His small blue eyes shifted from the Warlord and flickered around the room before answering. ‘All our government contacts in Australia have indicated that she disappeared from their jurisdictions and they are currently using state-employed magicians to trace her.’
‘With no luck?’ Cain asked softly.
‘No luck.’
‘Have you found Maggie South?’
Jürgen stiffened at the name. ‘We know Maggie works for the mafia, she’s made no secret of that, but it seems you were correct in assuming it isn’t her only employer.’ He hesitated. ‘Maggie was a double agent, working for the government as well. She has been deeply involved with Sabra, as you suspected, during her home detention.’
‘Have you spoken to Maggie? Whose side is she on? Where is her allegiance? Mafia or government?’
‘I haven’t spoken to her since I blew her brains out the second time. She was disguised as a government official during the raid. I didn’t recognise her until I caught her scent, but it was too late. I’d shot her.’
Neither man bothered to grimace. ‘I’ll do it a third time, if she’s hurt Sabra,’ Cain growled.
Jürgen shook
A line from the prophecy hummed through Cain’s mind.
Like a rainbow from cloud, an illusion that is real. A woman like no other, to him only will appeal…
‘How many women do you know who are made from rainbows?’ Cain asked, smiling at the memory of Sabra’s multi-hued skin.
‘She’s not made of fucking rainbows,’ Jürgen spat. ‘She’s a chameleon, damn it.’
‘I want her.’ Cain’s voice grew soft and dangerous.
Jürgen rolled his eyes again. ‘You’ve got it bad, my lord. You need to focus on expanding your territory; you need to focus on gaining more power. Not on your fat little rainbow.’
Before he’d even realised what he was doing, Cain found his fingers gripping the thick tendons of Jürgen’s neck and squeezing. Rage boiled up through his body sending his vision red.
How dare the man insult her!
Jürgen gasped, the smell of his sweat permeated the air, and his hands struggled to push Cain away — but Cain was stronger.
‘Jürgen,’ Cain hissed, his eyes narrowed. ‘Never speak of her like that.’ His voice lowered to a growl. ‘Remember who you are speaking to.’ He loosened his grip and allowed Jürgen to take a deep, steadying breath. ‘You speak to your lord. Not some lovesick teen.’ He shoved Jürgen back with a brutal punch to the chest. Unwilling or unable to defend himself against the Warlord’s anger, Jürgen staggered back and landed arse-first on a leather sofa, sending it screeching across the stone floor until it collided with a bookshelf, which shook a rain of books over Jürgen’s head. The women in the den gave startled shrieks and ran. As the door of the den slammed, Cain stalked up towards Jürgen and glared down at him. ‘I do not require power. I have plenty of that. I am not your old Führer. What I require is freedom, for me, my people and my woman. ’
Jürgen scowled. Cain knew he disliked being publicly reprimanded, but he hated being reminded of his Nazi past even more. To his credit, Jürgen recovered quickly.
‘My apologies, lord, I forgot myself.’ He accepted Cain’s outstretched hand without hesitation.
Instead of relaxing, Cain felt his muscles bunch as he hauled Jürgen back to his feet. His guard’s hand was meaty and sweaty. They met eye-to-eye, and for a moment he stared searchingly into Jürgen’s pale blue eyes. Jürgen’s dark past in Nazi Germany was something they’d both like to forget, but criticism of his lady — he couldn’t ignore it.
‘Again, my lord. Apologies,’ Jürgen said thickly. His skin was ruddy with…anger, embarrassment, shame? Cain couldn’t decide.
‘Have we got any closer to locating Sabra?’ He changed the subject, but for the first time a gnawing doubt about Jürgen had taken root.
‘Yes,’ Jürgen acknowledged slowly. His small blue eyes shifted from the Warlord and flickered around the room before answering. ‘All our government contacts in Australia have indicated that she disappeared from their jurisdictions and they are currently using state-employed magicians to trace her.’
‘With no luck?’ Cain asked softly.
‘No luck.’
‘Have you found Maggie South?’
Jürgen stiffened at the name. ‘We know Maggie works for the mafia, she’s made no secret of that, but it seems you were correct in assuming it isn’t her only employer.’ He hesitated. ‘Maggie was a double agent, working for the government as well. She has been deeply involved with Sabra, as you suspected, during her home detention.’
‘Have you spoken to Maggie? Whose side is she on? Where is her allegiance? Mafia or government?’
‘I haven’t spoken to her since I blew her brains out the second time. She was disguised as a government official during the raid. I didn’t recognise her until I caught her scent, but it was too late. I’d shot her.’
Neither man bothered to grimace. ‘I’ll do it a third time, if she’s hurt Sabra,’ Cain growled.
Jürgen shook
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