Page 91 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

Lopez bloodline.

My blood.

Julian’s head snaps up, and he stares at Loft.

“Val?” Julian says, his voice changes, quiet now and dangerous. “You were bullshitting about the ceremony. It’s already been decided that we will marry? Does she know?”

No.

I did not know.

Julian is one of my sister’s best friends. He is in love with Lee, who is Marge’s other best friend. That arrangement would never happen. Not if I get a vote. Him either, obviously.

But that is the problem with the Eligere.

They have never cared about anyone’s votes. Frost is running the whole damn thing.

My hand tightens around my staff.

Frost turns his head toward the trees. I freeze. There is no way he knows I’m here or could see me through the clearing. He looks back to Julian.

“Miss Lopez understands the broad expectations of her inheritance since the moment her bloodline was verified,” Loft says. “Her ignorance of the finer details is irrelevant. She may be a Lopez, but she is still only a woman.”

Ah, yes, why would I, a little woman, be worried about the finer details like my own marriage and breeding rights. I’m really getting the hang of this sarcasm thing.

I’m going to stab him in the dick.

But before I can move, boots crunch on gravel behind Frost. A shadow detaches from the trees. Tall, broad-shouldered, moving like death wrapped in black tactical gear.

Gabe.

His face is carved in fury, and he walks with his gun aimed.

Hot as hell.

Frost sighs. “Why must there always be an inconvenience when it comes to Lopez house?”

“You were going to force her to marry him,” Gabe says.

His voice is cold and deadly. Whatever he does next will probably be really bad.

Loft’s smile returns before he speaks. “Valeria Lopez belongs to the Eligere. Her womb, her name, her blood, and whatever else we use her for, are all matters of our governance. It’s cute that you seem so worried about her. Does the help have a crush?”

Gabe pulls the trigger and, in an instant, blood and brain matter sprays, and Loft falls to the ground.

Frost crouches as a guard stands in front of him. Gabe doesn’t stop. He moves to the guards and takes one down. The others fan out.

I step out, staff spinning, then I crack the wrist of the nearest enforcer before he could aim at him.

Gabe’s eyes find mine across the firefight. For one frozen second, the world narrows to just us.

He looks wrecked.

Frost skitters to the car and climbs in.

“Julian, get behind the SUV,” I order and slide the knife end of my staff through the man to my left before he can raise his weapon.

“Val,” Gabe growls, voice raw even over the gunfire. He puts down another enforcer with clinical precision then closes the distance between us in three strides. His free hand catches my arm, yanking me behind Loft’s SUV for cover.