Born in Blood (The Sentinels) by Alexandra Ivy Page B

to accept that he hadn’t had a clue. Logically understanding the basic concept of bigotry and actually enduring it in action were two separate things.
    For several minutes they walked in silence, Duncan trying to shake off the lingering feel of suspicious gazes, and Callie clearly worrying over the upcoming encounter with Boggs.
    At last he sucked in a deep breath and glanced around the rose beds that were already in full bloom despite the fact that it was only April. Velvet petals from deep burgundy to purest white perfumed the air while a marble fountain sent water dancing in a sparkling display. There were beautifully carved benches and birdbaths, and along the edge of the gardens were low hedges so perfectly trimmed they didn’t seem real.
    His lips twitched as he recalled his enthusiastic attempts to trim the hedges when he’d owned a house. They’d not only ended up as barren stumps, but he’d accidentally taken out a few of the neighbors’. Needless to say he hadn’t been invited to the block party.
    One upside to living in a shitty apartment building ... no yard work.
    “I didn’t realize it would be so beautiful,” he murmured, allowing his hand to brush hers as they walked along the flagstone path.
    A strained smile curved her lips. “Mother Nature is always spectacular, but it doesn’t hurt to have a witch as a gardener.”
    “True.” He studied her upturned face, his cock twitching at the sight of her in the moonlight. She looked lovely. As always. But she didn’t belong in this garden. She wasn’t a hothouse rose. She was too rare, too exotic. Like a flower plucked from a distant, tropical island. “Were you happy growing up here?”
    “I was.” Her smile lost its tension, pleasant memories replacing her looming fear. “Children who are brought to Valhalla are given to foster families, but everyone is involved in raising them. I had a dozen mothers fussing over me.”
    “You never considered tracking down your birth parents?”
    “They stopped being my parents when they dumped me in the trash,” she said with blunt dismissal. “I’ve never had any urge to know anything about them.”
    He nodded. She had obviously been given all the love and protection she needed. Why would she want to know the bastards who’d tossed her away like garbage? “Fair enough.”
    She tilted her head to the side. “What about your childhood?”
    He instinctively slowed his pace as they neared a shadowed corner of the garden conveniently hidden by a trellis covered in climbing roses.
    “Loud, messy.” He shot her a grin. “Occasionally painful.”
    She came to a startled halt. “Painful?”
    “I had two older brothers who threw me out our bedroom window, hog-tied me and left me in the back shed until my da found me. They also dared me to kiss my fourth-grade teacher, who promptly kicked me out of school for a week.”
    She arched a brow, not a hint of sympathy to be found.
    “Any sisters?”
    “Three.”
    “Older?”
    “Yep.”
    “That explains it.”
    He pressed his lips together to hide his smile. He was about to be insulted. Amusement would only ruin her fun.
    “Explains what?” he dutifully demanded.
    “Your assumption that women should adore you.”
    “Of course they should. I’m adorable.”
    She snorted. “What you are is spoiled.”
    He couldn’t deny the accusation. Along with being a true pain in his ass, his sisters had shamelessly indulged him.
    “There might have been a little spoiling,” he agreed.
    She reached to pluck a rose bloom from the trellis, her fingers caressing the peach petals.
    “Does your family live in Kansas City?”
    “Yes.” He cleared his throat. Damn, but the sight of those delicate fingers brushing over the flower made him hard. He wanted her hands on him. Stroking, exploring, maybe doing a little squeezing. “My ma would be devastated if any of her chicks flew too far from the nest.”
    She smiled. “You were fortunate.”
    “It didn’t always feel