Heart of a Warrior Read Online Free

down the road until he got to the street, and then headed north, back to his lair, she assumed.
    For a moment, standing outside in the night air, she’d felt free. It had been exhilarating, but as the cold set in and she’d been forced to think about her next steps, she realized she was still a prisoner.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Annie. Yours?”
    “Ivan. You can wear my shirt.” Ivan pulled the van over and parked.
    As he leaned over the seat to reach behind it, Ivan glanced at her body, but he made no move to touch her. He handed her the shirt. It was such a small kindness. She took a shuddering breath.
    Hell, how pathetic have I become?
    Barely controlling her tears just because he gave her his stupid shirt to wear, she slipped her arms into the blue button-down shirt and ran her shaking hands over the crisp cotton material. Too big, the French cuffs flopped as she tried to button the shirt. It smelled of him, a familiar crisp citrus aftershave and his musk. Annie hunkered down in the seat. The shirt swam on her, but she didn’t care. It was the first clothing she’d worn in months.
    — • —
    “This is my house.” Ivan pulled the van into a driveway next to an old Victorian two-story. There were no lights on in the house. Anne noticed he didn’t call it his lair.
    They parked, got out, and Ivan led the way up the back steps to a porch. He unlocked the door, and they stepped inside. The room, a kitchen, was dark. It didn’t matter, she could see almost as well as if it had been daylight, one of the few vampire perks.
    “Down here.” He unlocked another door and opened it. A dark stairwell gaped. He disappeared down it, and with a sigh, she followed.
    Another locked door. Damn, the guy was more paranoid than Draco had been about locks.
    When he opened the last door, the bottom of the stairs was bathed in a soft light. They walked down another hall, passing two more doors. At the end, he opened yet another door. Stepping aside, he ushered her into a large room, which was brightly lit by several lamps and ceiling fixtures.
    Ivan tossed his keys on a side table near the door and waved at the brown leather couch.
    “Have a seat.”
    He’d given her permission to sit. Without thinking, she moved to obey and then stopped, staring at the couch as if she’d never seen one before.
    Draco had always made her stand. If she’d disobeyed and sat, he’d beat her. Her fist clenched. No one was ever going to beat her again. Never. Or tell her what to do.
    She remained standing.
    Ivan strode to one end of the long room. An alcove separated by parted curtains held a king-sized bed. He turned and walked back, his fists clenching and unclenching, his jaw working, and his shoulders tensed. His amber eyes burned.
    Annie watched as he paced, marching back and forth the length of his lair. Then, he spun around and hit the wall with his hands as he leaned into it. In his own way, he was having a temper tantrum.
    She’d seen them before; Draco had been a master at it. He’d get furious over something stupid and then flail around, throwing things, smashing vases, shrieking obscenities. He’d bought vases just to throw them against the walls. Then he’d start on her.
    She was glad he was dead and sorry she didn’t get to see it, but if she’d stayed, she’d be dead too. And she did not intend to die again, not for a long, long time.
    Her gaze raked over Ivan’s body. She’d spotted him the moment he’d entered the crypt earlier. God, he was fine, that was for sure.
    There was only one thing for a girl to do in a situation like this.
    Take control.
    “You must have loved your apprentice.”
    •
    Ivan froze and turned his head to her. Lost in his own anger and frustration, he’d forgotten she was there.
    Control . He needed to get control.
    “Just pissed I lost a well-trained slave. Don’t you think Draco would feel the same if you’d been killed?”
    She snorted. “Draco? He didn’t give a rat’s ass about