Page 8 of Roguefinder

He meant Ulfrik. I stepped closer, and the white cloud of my breath mingled with his as I murmured, “Fair enough, but it brought you to me.”

His heartbeat picked up, and his wolf stirred in his eyes. “That’s an excellent point, Jesse. I guess you could say Ulfrik did us both a favor.”

My god, the way he said my name. Low and smoky, lust curled around every syllable. He knew what it did to me, so of course he did it as often as possible.

Desire pumped through my veins, urging me to yank him close and kiss him again. It was gratifying as hell to know he didn’t resent being turned. That he wanted the life he’d been given because it meant a life with me.

But we stood on Sterling’s doorstep. We also had to figure out how Ulfrik had returned from the dead.

I tipped my head toward Moray Tower. “Remember what we talked about. Let me handle Sterling.”

Caleb gave me a mild look. “I’d do the whole Scout’s Honor thing but they kicked me out of Boy Scouts. I don’t want to get into a Stolen Valor situation.”

Laughter threatening, I palmed his shoulder and pushed him toward the entrance. “I’ll take you at your word.”

The ward’s pressure eased the moment we stepped into the tower’s lobby. Slate-gray marble, modern furniture, and discreet lighting gave an impression of understated wealth. The scent of juniper and iron seasoned the air.

Our footsteps echoed softly. The young woman at the front desk lifted her head and smiled as we approached.

“Go right on up, Mr. van der Meer. Mr. Moray is expecting you.”

“Thank you,” I said, motioning Caleb toward the bank of elevators. The scent of juniper thickened as we passed the receptionist, who wasn’t really a receptionist and almost certainly wasn’t the only witch in the lobby. Sterling’s security was just as discreet and expensive as the rest of his building.

The elevator door slid shut with a whisper, enclosing Caleb and me in a sleek metal box. I caught his eye and flicked my gaze to the barely perceptible camera tucked in the corner.

Seconds later, we stepped onto the fortieth floor. The outer office was empty, the reception desk deserted. A pair of polished walnut doors dominated the wall beside it. One was ajar, revealing a generous sliver of the office beyond.

A cracking sound drifted out, followed by a low, feminine moan.

Caleb halted at my side, his attention fixed on the doors. Through the gap, a woman sprawled on her back, her nude body taking up the surface of Sterling’s desk. Her arms were bound above her head, and her knees were drawn to her shoulders and secured with thin red ropes. More ropes crisscrossed her skin, running under her round breasts and forming a spiderweb pattern on her thighs. Her hair was the same lurid color, the long waves cascading over the desk’s edge until the ends nearly brushed the plush carpet. Her pink nipples were erect, and her chest heaved, thrusting her breasts higher.

Sterling stood over her, fully dressed in tailored trousers and a crisp white shirt. Gold cufflinks winked at his wrists, and his thick dark-blond hair showed the merest hints of silver at the temples. Every strand stayed in place as he brought a crop down on the woman’s splayed pussy.

She jerked, then cried out. Everything between her legs was red and glistening. Sweat sheened her shoulders. More sweat darkened the hair at her temples. Sterling had been at it for a while. The redhead curled her polished toenails, then released a warbled sob. A single tear streaked from her eye to the curve of her ear.

Sterling looked up, his green eyes instantly finding mine through the gap in the door.

“Jesse,” he said in his boarding school accent. “Have a seat. I won’t be a minute.”

The door drifted shut on its own, closing with the same whisper as the elevator.

Caleb turned to me with disbelief etched on his face. He’d seen me use telekinesis, so Sterling’s display of magic hadn’t rattled him. No, his shock came from the other display.

“Come on,” I muttered, guiding him to a small sofa. Magazines were artfully fanned on the table in front of it.

The sharp slap of the crop drifted through the door in a steady rhythm, every blow punctuated by the woman’s cries. A moment later, they spiraled higher. The faint creak of wood joined them, along with Sterling’s masculine grunts.

Caleb stared at the door with his jaw set. After a second, he looked at me and mouthed, “He’s fucking his secretary.”

I motioned for him to drop it.

Nostrils flared, he tossed another incredulous look at the door before turning back to me. “This is rude as shit.”

The noises stopped. Silence reigned, and I released a slow breath. I couldn’t argue with Caleb’s assessment. But Sterling didn’t do anything without purpose. He’d refused to change his plans to accommodate us, and now he made us wait until he finished.

The office door opened, and the woman emerged fully clothed and flawless, her yellow dress plastered to her curves. Her makeup was heavy but well-done, and her shock of red hair fell almost to her waist. She swept past us without a glance in our direction, moving swiftly to the elevator on black stilettos that could have doubled as daggers. She’d worn the same outfit when she read the weather earlier in the evening.

Caleb sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he watched the woman enter the elevator.