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looked up into his face.
    Kane’s words rang through her ears.
    Because I hurt you.

Eleven
    Rowen stopped outside the double doors of Ambrose’s office and knocked. He knew what was coming; he was about to get his ass handed to him on a silver platter.
    The fact that Scarlet was Ambrose’s daughter didn’t matter. He’d raised a hand to one of his brothers. And that just wasn’t acceptable.
    “Come in.” The frail voice sounded from the other side of the door.
    Rowen pushed it open. Whatever Ambrose said or did to him, Rowen would take it like a man. He’d reacted without thinking, something that shouldn’t surprise him. It’s not like he had a history of being calm, cool, or rational.
    But he’d never lost control over a woman. Never.
    Rowen closed the door behind him and stepped toward Ambrose’s desk. The light was fading on the other side of the curtained windows, and the room was dimly lit with only the desk lamps scattered across the desk and side tables.
    “Ah, Rowen,” Ambrose said. “Thank you for joining us.”
    Rowen stopped in his tracks. “Us?”
    Ambrose nodded, lifting a hand to a chair near the corner. “Scarlet.”
    Rowen’s head jerked up as Scarlet rose, her reluctance obvious. He wanted to be pissed after the way she’d treated him in the training room, but his eyes were a slave to every slow, sensuous step she took across the room.
    “Please,” Ambrose gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, “sit.”
    Rowen lowered himself slowly into one of the chairs. He avoided Scarlet’s eyes as she took the seat next to him.
    “I have a special assignment for the two of you,” Ambrose said.
    “An assignment?” Rowen was still waiting for a tongue-lashing.
    “I need two people that I can trust.”
    “But, Father,” Scarlet began, “Rowen has only been here a day and—”
    Ambrose held up a hand to stop her. “Precisely why he is perfect for the job.”
    “I’m at your service, sir.” Rowen had no idea what Ambrose was talking about, but at least he wasn’t being relieved of duty.
    Ambrose shuffled some papers on his desk. “You’ve doubtless heard about Mikhail Krupin?”
    “He was a member of the Guard who disappeared a few months back.”
    “And?” Ambrose prodded.
    Rowen hesitated. Kane had confided in him, but it seemed to be common knowledge that Mikhail was under suspicion at the time of his disappearance. “Rumor has it Mikhail might have had some association with the Legion,” Rowen said carefully.
    Ambrose nodded. “We were in the process of verifying the accusation when Mikhail disappeared. And now, it seems the allegations are even more serious.”
    “Is Mikhail back?” Rowen asked.
    “I’m afraid not. But the body of one of the Legion’s revenants was found last night,” Ambrose said.
    Rowen raised an eyebrow. “A revenant? Well, it couldn’t have been one of us. Killing one of them would be a violation of the Treaty.”
    Scarlet crossed her legs, and Rowen had to fight not to look at the crease between her thighs. “Our source inside the Medical Examiner’s office found something that links it to us.”
    “A piece of a glaive,” Ambrose explained quietly. “One of ours. We’ve checked them all. They’re intact. All but one of them.”
    Scarlet’s expression was icy. “Except for yours. We haven’t checked yours yet.”
    Rowen held her stare. Something unfamiliar wound its way through his stomach. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought it was shame. Shame that Scarlet Montgomery thought he was the kind of man who would violate the Treaty.
    He stood and unsheathed his glaive. When it was firmly in his palm, he willed it open, the pendant around his neck growing warm as it channeled energy into the weapon. The small rod extended with a soft whoosh to its five-foot length. The tip, sharp and deadly, glistened in the dim light.
    Ambrose stood unsteadily, reaching into the desk drawer and withdrawing an inflated ball. Rowen knew