HEART OF A HUNTRESS

The Kavanaugh Foundation Series, Book 1

Crista McHugh

 

DEDICATION

To my crit partner, Sherry, for always taking the time to read my ramblings and letting me know if I was on to something or not. This wouldn't be published without your help.

To my fellow Romance Divas for their advice, support, and laughter whenever I needed it.

To Deb, whose open invitation to keep subbing kept me determined to write something that would be accepted by her high standards. Thanks for all the suggestions during edits.

And lastly, to my husband, who's been so supportive while I've been on this wild ride called writing.

CHAPTER 1

The hairs on Lana's neck stood on end and she grinned. Despite the cacophonic chaos of the hundreds of slot machines in Caesars' main casino, she'd found her target. His skin had a slightly orange tinge from too much sunless tanner, and his smile remained tight as he flirted with the half-drunk cougar sitting next to him.

The woman laughed a bit too loudly and playfully smacked his arm, flattered that this gorgeous man who appeared to be half her age was paying attention to her. “Why don't we continue this conversation upstairs?” she asked and gathered her chips into her oversized rhinestone-studded handbag.

Lana stood when they did, hoping not to draw his attention as the three of them weaved through the crowd. He must be newly born if he's preying on her. Either that, or he was too hungry to be particular. Bloodsuckers tended to enjoy those whose youth and beauty matched their own, not withered prunes visiting from Sheboygan. But Las Vegas was a buffet for them, and they usually found something to soothe their appetites.

She remained focused on the couple in front of her, ducking between machines when the cougar paused to show off her conquest to some friends camped out in front of the penny slots. He fidgeted and stared at the faint pulsation under the saggy skin of her neck, his lips growing thinner as she pinched his ass.

Subtle, lady. Real subtle. She'd be lucky if he didn't rip her throat out the second he got her alone.

That is, if Lana let that happen. She wrapped her fingers around the stake in the bottom of her purse and licked her lips. Who needs mace in this town when a nice shaven piece of oak takes care of most predators? She'd been hunting vampires for years. She was good—probably one of the best in the Kavanaugh Foundation—and she'd be damned if some sex-starved Mrs. Robinson wannabe marred her reputation.

When they moved again, she darted out from between the slot machines and collided with a solid mass of muscle. The stake slipped from her grasp as a pair of hands grabbed her and kept her from landing flat on her ass.

“Sorry about that. I…” The male voice trailed off when she lifted her face.

Dear God, he was gorgeous. Not the ethereal perfection that vampires had, but real, down-to-earth, rugged-male yumminess. The tanned hue of his skin and blond highlights in his hair came from hours in the sun, not a bottle, and a faded scar divided his left eyebrow in half. Warmth gathered in the pit of her stomach, dampening her panties. How long had it been since a man aroused her this much just from a glance?

He sucked in a deep breath and his eyes widened. “I—I didn't mean to knock you over.” He made no effort to release her, though. Instead, he looked like he wanted to take her upstairs and do all kinds of naughty things to her body.

The tingling at the back of her neck faded, tearing her away from her little lust-filled vacation. Work called. She pushed against his chest. “Excuse me, but I'm running late.”

His arms loosened and he took a step back. “Of course.”

She searched the floor for her stake, cursing that she'd only packed one this evening. Each second she wasted brought Gladys the Cougar that much closer to becoming a vampire's dinner.

He swooped down and retrieved the stake from under one of the nearby machines. “Looking for this?”

“Thanks.” She snatched it back and shoved it back into her purse. For the first time in twelve years, she cursed her job. She'd rather stay here and get to know this stranger than rescue some stupid old lady who practically invited trouble up to her room.

He quirked the brow with the scar. “No problem. Odd accessory for a night at Caesars, I must say.”

Her cheeks burned. The Kavanaugh Foundation's mission was to protect innocent humans from the things that go bump in the night, not bring them to their attention. She turned on her heels and ran in the direction she'd seen the bloodsucker heading, hoping she hadn't lost her target.

She reached the main lobby and closed her eyes, shutting her other senses off so her so-called sixth sense could take over. The tingling grew stronger when she turned toward the Tower elevators. She opened her eyes and sprinted after them.

“Hold the doors.” She stuck her hand in front of the sliding metal and grinned when she saw the couple she'd been trailing.

A frown deepened the wrinkles in the cougar's face. She looked like she wanted to begin the nibbling before she got to her room. Too bad. “What floor?”

Lana scanned the numbers, looking for the lit one. Adrenaline rushed through her body the way it always did right before a kill. “Twenty-two.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the car as they rode up. The woman practically draped herself over the vampire, her hand groping his crotch.

Lana's stomach lurched from the display. Geez, lady. Get a room. “Times must be tough if your kind are resorting to playing gigolos to little old ladies.”

The woman gasped at the insult, but it had the desired effect. He pulled his teeth back in a snarl, revealing his razor-sharp fangs. The elevator dinged as he lunged for her.

Lana squeezed through the opening doors out into the hallway and reached for her stake. “What? The truth hurts?” she taunted, luring him away from his intended victim.

He grabbed Lana's hair and yanked her head back, exposing her throat. “I'm going to enjoy drinking you dry.” His ice blue eyes glowed with an unholy fire that she'd seen hundreds of times before. The feeding frenzy.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” With the cool confidence gained from years of experience, she plunged the stake straight into his undead heart. Death spasms racked his body and she shoved him off her. He disintegrated before he hit the floor.

A scream echoed down the hallway. The cougar stood frozen by the elevator with her mouth agape and her hand clutching her heart. “What—what—what—” she stammered over and over as she pointed a bony finger at the pile of dust where her potential lover once stood.

Lana picked up her stake and cleaned it off before she stowed it in her purse. The truth always hurt, but at least the lady was alive to realize it. “You're welcome, ma'am. Have a good evening.”

She punched the down button and disappeared into the elevator as soon as it arrived.

 

***

 

Byron watched the woman disappear into the crowd, too stunned to move. For years he'd dismissed the myth of predestined mates as a bunch of mumbo jumbo his uncle told him to keep him from screwing anything with a pulse.

Then he inhaled her scent.

Sweet Jesus, it was intoxicating, like sex and smooth single-malt whiskey rolled into one. And he couldn't complain about the package wrapped around it, either. Dark brown hair, stormy blue-grey eyes and legs that went on forever. He could almost see them wrapped around his waist as he plunged his cock into her over and over again.

Speaking of which, his cock was already straining against the zipper of his jeans. If he wanted to follow her, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter while he could still walk. Even though he'd lost sight of her in the crowd, her scent tugged at him like a leash. He grimaced. Who'd have thought one woman could almost bring him to his knees? He had to at least know her name.

The fog in his mind had slowly lifted by the time he reached the lobby. What the hell was a woman like her doing with a wooden stake? The Buffy convention wasn't in town. He wondered if he hadn't fallen head over tail for a real nut-job.

She dashed toward a closing elevator and wedged her hand in the doorway. Her scent wafted over him, along with another all-too-familiar stench. A growl rose in the back of his throat. Vampire.

The elevator had already begun its ascent. He punched the up button several times while he watched the numbers above the door. It stopped on the twenty-second floor. He reached inside his blazer for his gun. His mouth watered. He couldn't wait to catch the vampire and beat the crap out it until he found out who killed his uncle. They'd violated the treaty, and now there'd be hell to pay.

Another elevator opened and he jumped in and pressed the floor. Can this thing move any slower? He compulsively checked the chamber of his 9mm, making sure the clip was fully loaded with wooden-tipped bullets. An image of the woman with her throat torn out flashed in front of his eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. Please don't let me be too late.

As soon as the door opened, he ran out with this gun cocked and ready to fire. The sight that greeted him, though, jerked him to a standstill.

An old woman screamed and brought her hand to her chest. “Don't shoot! I didn't do anything.” A cascade of sobs followed.

He peered past her at the pile of dust on the floor and cursed. So much for getting any leads from him. He released the cocking mechanism and slid the gun back in his holster.

The old lady dug her fingers into his arms. “I swear I didn't know he was some kind of monster.” She was trembling worse than a building in an earthquake.

He placed his hands on her shoulders to calm her. “What happened?”

“I just wanted to feel sexy again. We were going up to my room, and then this girl said something to him, and then—” Her eyes widened, hiding her tattooed eyeliner in the drooping folds of her lids. “He had fangs. Large ones. And he tried to bite her neck.”

He nodded and tried to keep his face calm. “Did he have a German accent?”

She shook her head. “She stabbed him and he turned into dust.” More sobs racked her body and she buried her face against his shirt, soaking it.

Byron awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and let her cry. Whoever his mystery woman was, she knew how to kill vampires. His jaw tightened. He just hoped he'd have a chance to find her before they did.

CHAPTER 2

Lana collapsed on the couch in her apartment and kicked off her high-heeled sandals. The only problem with patrolling the nicer casinos in town was having to dress the part, even if it made her job ten times more painful. Why couldn't she have been assigned to Maui, where she could wear flip-flops every day and no one would bat an eyelash?

Her mind recounted the evening's events so she could accurately report them to the Foundation. Three newly born vampires killed. One startled old lady. And one man who still made her sex ache when she thought of him.

Well, maybe she'd leave him out of her report. She just wished she could get him out of her thoughts. People like her had no right to dream about naughty interludes with perfect strangers, but damn, it felt good to have a man look at her that way.

Lana closed her eyes and sighed. Maybe it was time to consider retirement. As if that were even possible. Every time she'd feel the hair on her neck stand up, she'd reach for a wooden stake. Hunters like her didn't retire; they hunted until a vampire killed them. She'd already outlived everyone she trained with. It was just a matter of time before her number came up. Occupational hazard.

The screen of her laptop flickered to life and she slid her Kavanaugh Foundation CAC card into the slot. A few taps of the keyboard later, she entered the secure website and filled out her report. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. Something strange was happening here in Vegas—definitely something that shouldn't stay in Vegas. Fifteen new vamps killed this week alone. If she didn't know better, she'd say someone had a bloodsucker factory operating here in town. The question was why?

She mentioned her suspicions in her report and submitted it. Someone would scan the local hospitals to see if the cougar had a nervous breakdown from what she witnessed, and if she did, one of the Foundation's witches would come into town and alter her memory. Thankfully, most people refused to believe what they'd seen after a vampire attack. Gladys, on the other hand, looked like she might've suffered a bout of angina from the brief ordeal. Lana chewed her bottom lip. Maybe she should've sent someone up to check on her before she left Caesars.

Her guilt over the old lady subsided the second she clicked her laptop closed. Maybe that'd teach her to stick to men her own age. The only thing that nagged her was the fear she'd end up like the old lady—alone, on the prowl, and willing to gamble with whatever piece of ass came her way. Would she have jumped the stranger in the casino if she hadn't been on the job? Would a one-night stand with a passing tourist relieve the ache building between her legs or just remind her of what she could never have?

Something about the way he looked at her had seemed hungry and possessive, like the moment she entered his bed he'd never let her go. Her pulse raced at the thought of it. What would it feel like to be loved, cherished, desired?

Bitterness choked her throat. She'd made her choice long ago. The life of a hunter was a lonely one, but someone needed to do it. Better to be alone and not have to deal with losing someone she cared about. Or worse, causing them pain when she finally met her grisly end.

The sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the start of a new day. The bloodsuckers wouldn't be prowling the Strip any more tonight. Time to get some sleep before starting the next hunt. She retreated to the cool blue hues of her bedroom, pulled the blackout curtains shut and crawled into bed. The last thing she remembered as she drifted off to sleep was the stranger's face.

 

***

 

Bright sunlight streamed through the opening between the curtains when Lana opened her eyes. She rolled over and checked her alarm clock. 3:23 p.m. Lovely. Waking up seven minutes before her alarm and so horny she doubted anything in her toy box could satisfy her. Maybe she'd have to make a detour past one of the many adult stores that lined the Strip and find something new.

Or maybe she'd take a night off from hunting and track down that stranger.

She snorted. Take a night off. How comical. Like the bloodsuckers ever took a night off, and it was her against an entire city of them. She yawned and set about her normal morning routine: thirty minutes of yoga poses, a hot shower and back to the laptop.

The first email in her inbox didn't surprise her. Wade Pemberly, head of the Foundation, acknowledging her concerns about the recent influx of new vampires. As one of the oldest active hunters, he usually respected her opinion. He dropped her a brief line letting her know that he'd discuss it with the board and consider sending her some temporary reinforcements.

The next email—time-stamped three hours later—pissed her off. Instead of sending her seasoned reinforcements, they decided to send a rookie fresh out of training to gain more on-the-job experience.

A string of curse words flew from her mouth, almost every other one of them an F-bomb. Yes, newborn vamps were easier to kill than the older ones, but she didn't need to play nanny to some wet-behind-the-ears kid.

She opened the dossier and reached in her desk drawer for her hidden stash of chocolate. Three pieces of dark cocoa bliss later, she'd finally calmed down enough to read past the name on the first line. Esperanza (Espe) Casañas. Age nineteen. A few more four-letter words exploded from her mouth. How the hell did they expect this kid to patrol the casino floors when she wasn't even old enough to buy a beer? Lana ground her teeth together. The Foundation had better send Espe with a decent fake ID if they wanted her to get anything out of her time in Vegas.

Her dossier seemed unremarkable. Born in Miami. Parents were Cuban immigrants who were killed by a vamp when she was only seven. Grew up at the Kavanaugh Academy. Same story as the rest of the hunters out there.

Well, most of the hunters, anyway. Losing a family member to a bloodsucker at a young age seemed to awaken all those revenge urges, but Lana was different. She'd never spent time at the Academy, the Foundation's orphanage for kids who'd escaped a feeding frenzy. She'd grown up a relatively normal life, if she left out the part that certain people occasionally gave her a major case of the heebie-jeebies. It wasn't until Max died that she learned these “people” were really vampires, and she had a built-in radar system for them.

Max. Twelve years later, and he still managed to tug at her heart. They'd both been so young and stupid. Unlike most of the kids at the Academy, he didn't remember his parents, who'd been slaughtered when he was two. But he still became a hunter and earned his first solo assignment in Charlotte. She was a student at UNC and fell head over heels for the roguish young man who seemed to draw women to him like flies. He never paid attention to any of them—only her. Three months after they met, she moved in with him and began planning her happily ever after.

Then, one morning Max didn't return from his job. He worked nights, but he never told her where or what he did. She spent the entire day calling his cell, leaving voice mails, and curled up on the couch with a bag of Hershey's miniatures. It wasn't until nightfall that she received the knock that changed her life.

Her eyes stung at the memory, and her throat constricted. She never had a chance to kill the vampires that took Max away from her; Morwen, the Head Witch of the Foundation, had robbed her of her revenge. But she'd killed hundreds of vampires since then. And she'd managed to encase her heart in ice. No one would ever cry over her when she died. No one would ever lose her to a vampire's fangs. Being alone let her concentrate on her job and not mess around with the distraction of a relationship, even if it left her an empty shell of a human.

She shoved the lid of her laptop closed. As much as the past still hurt, it helped her push the stranger out of her mind and get her game face on. She scanned the map of the Strip, trying to decide where to start her patrols tonight. The Bellagio seemed good enough. Vampires seemed to like the more affluent casinos. The only downside: high heels again.

With a shrug, she searched her closet for something to wear. When would fashion designers learn to include pockets for her stake?

 

***

 

Byron left Caesars more frustrated than ever. He ran his hand through his hair and frowned when it drifted down to his stubble-covered cheek. Ever since he'd run into that woman, he couldn't get her off his mind. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't do damn near anything. If anyone back at the ranch noticed it, they didn't say anything. They probably thought he was still grieving for his uncle.

He turned up the Strip and glanced at the sky. A quarter moon hung low on the horizon. Great. He had a week left before he sprouted fangs and fur and fought it out with Alan over who would replace Uncle Eddie as the Alpha. Pack politics pissed him off. Why couldn't they do the civilized thing and hold elections? Why the need to beat his rival to a bloody pulp to prove who had the best leadership potential?

In front of the Bellagio fountains a crowd clogged up the sidewalk, oohing and ahhing at the choreographed water show. Their half-witted mob mentality irritated him even more as he shoved past them. Lemmings, all of them.

Then something tickled his nose. Her scent. He jerked to a stop and inhaled. It still smelled like sex and whiskey, but now he noticed a slightly floral note to it. His cock hardened. He turned and followed it, forgetting everything else at that moment.

He marched through the lobby, ignoring the massive Chihuly chandelier that usually drew his attention. As he came closer to her, he identified the particular facets of her scent: orchids, lemongrass, sandalwood and jasmine. If someone could bottle it up, they'd make a million selling it. No man would be able to resist it.

Her scent grew stronger as he neared the main casino, overpowering the odors of cigarettes, cheap perfume and even cheaper booze. The wolf inside him growled at the hunt, but instead of food, it wanted to satisfy a more primitive need—one as essential to life as warmth and shelter. It writhed against the restraints of the human body around him and threatened to seize control.

He paused and took a deep breath, waiting for his throbbing erection to calm down. That would've made a great impression on her. Hi, I'm Byron. Please excuse the raging hard-on I've had since I bumped into you last night. Sweet Jesus, he'd never been affected by a woman in this way before. Aroused, definitely. But wanting to throw her on top of a poker table and make love to her in front of everyone in the casino until he passed out from exhaustion? Never.

Once he managed to contain the beast within, he strolled down the aisles. Just how would he introduce himself to her? Should he nearly knock her over again? How about, Nice stake; you should see the one in my pants? He rolled his eyes. His one-track mind seemed to be out of control.

He found her sitting by a slot machine with a cell phone in her hands. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, typing out a text message. Then she set it on top of the machine and played a few coins. Jackpot. The bells and flashing lights almost made him feel like he'd won the prize, not her. At least he knew how to start up a conversation with her. Too bad he hadn't had time to shave or iron his clothes this morning, but maybe she'd go for the rugged look.

She was printing out the receipt of her winnings when he approached. Her shoulders tensed and her hand drifted to her purse. In a smooth motion, she spun around on her stool. Her lips parted when she saw him, and a new wave of her scent washed over him.

“Hi,” he managed to get out before his mind clouded over with lust. He didn't believe she could be more beautiful than last night, but he was wrong. Her dark hair fell softly around her shoulders, contrasting with her ivory skin. The loose folds of the neckline on her dress gave him an ample view of her cleavage. Her eyes widened and turned a deeper blue, her pupils dilated and her plump pink lips called to him like an oasis in a desert. How would they feel wrapped around his cock? He tucked his hands into his pockets to keep from grabbing her and tasting her flesh.

“Hi,” she replied with a faint smile.

“Get lucky tonight?” He nodded at the machine.

The corners of her lush mouth rose higher. “So far.”

All the blood rushed to his pants again. Maybe if he played his cards right, he'd get lucky, too. But he had to be careful. She wasn't like most of the women here—half-drunk and looking to have a little fun. She killed a vampire last night, and he didn't want to end up on the wrong side of her stake. It wouldn't kill him, but it would sure hurt like hell.

With caution tempering some of his lust, he gathered his courage. “I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a drink.” Why did such a simple question unnerve him? He'd asked out plenty of women, but none of them had been his true-mate. That would be a fun concept to explain to her if things ever progressed that far. Of course, he needed to come to terms with it himself first.

Her smile faded. “I'm sorry. I can't drink while I'm working.”

“Not even a soda?”

She stared at him for a full ten seconds while she made up her mind. Usually women agreed. She, on the other hand, looked like she was analyzing him for any weaknesses, any secrets, anything she could use against him. He felt like a fly under a microscope. His gut tightened. What if she knows what I am?

She licked her lips and the simple gesture almost sent him over the edge again. “I suppose a Diet Coke would be okay.” She slid off the stool with the grace of a dancer and followed him to a nearby bar.

Even though she wasn't going to have anything alcoholic, he needed a shot of something to soothe his nerves. Did she have any idea what being near her did to him? It reminded him of the time he hid in the girls' locker room in high school. There he was, surrounded by all that naked flesh, and unable to do anything about it without revealing himself.

He placed his hand on her waist as they weaved through the crowd. Heat radiated through the thin material of her dress and made him think of how hot she'd be in other places. By the time he'd ordered their drinks, he needed to hide his throbbing erection behind the shield of the bar. He needed to get his mind off sex. “I'm Byron, by the way.”

Both of her brows rose. “Byron? As in Lord Byron, the poet?”

His laughter sounded slightly nervous. “Yeah. My mom was an English professor, loved the Romantic poets. It could have been worse. She could have written her thesis on Shelley.”

Now she laughed with him, and some of the tension eased from his body. “I'm Lana,” she said before sipping her soda through a straw.

“Funny, you don't look like much of a sweater girl to me.” The metallic grey dress clung in all the right places and gave him an uninhibited view of her long legs.

She shrugged. “My parents liked the name. It was unusual for the time.”

Unique, just like her. She was quickly becoming an addiction he couldn't get enough of. Maybe there was some truth to the old myths.

A silence settled between them. It seemed comfortable to sit next to her and study the curves of her face. Almost too comfortable. He could get used to this. And that's when it morphed into something awkward. The collar of his shirt grew tight, and he searched for something to say. “I'm glad you weren't hurt last night after your little run-in with the vampire.”

Shit! Did I really just say that?

Apparently so. Her hand held her glass in a white-knuckled vise so tight, he wondered why it didn't shatter under the pressure. She stared at him with stormy grey eyes. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Oh, he'd really landed in the shithouse now. “I followed you upstairs last night at Caesars and saw your handiwork.”

“Are you sure you saw what you saw?” she asked in a tense voice. Her gaze never wavered as she waited for his answer.

“Of course I know what I saw.” He leaned closer so no one could overhear their conversation. A whiff of her scent caught him off guard for a second. He closed his eyes and swallowed his desire before adding, “You're not the only person in this town hunting vampires.”

Her glass hit the bar with a thud. “You're a rogue, aren't you?”

“A what?”

“You're not with the Foundation.”

“Lana, I don't know what you're talking about, but I do know what you are, and I want to join forces with you.” And maybe try some joining of a different nature afterwards.

“People like you shouldn't mess around with thing like this. You could get killed.”

“So could you.”

“I know that, but at least I've had the benefit of some training.”

“And I'm not as vulnerable as you think.” The bites he'd received over twenty-five years ago had a few perks, despite the monthly hell he went through every full moon. Speed. Strength. Quick healing. A heightened sense of smell. Unless she was a wolfie too, he doubted she had those assets.

She sighed and stared at the rim of her glass. “Why are you doing this?”

He took a deep breath. How much of the truth should he tell her? Did she have a gun loaded with silver bullets hiding in her purse tonight, too? “They killed my uncle two weeks ago.”

When she lifted her eyes, grief swirled in their blue-grey depths. She understood the pain of his loss more than he'd first thought. Maybe she would help him capture the bastard who ripped out Eddie's throat.

“I'm sorry for your loss, but that's no reason to turn vigilante. Please, leave this job to the experts.”

“Like you?”

She stiffened and her gaze focused on something behind him. “I'm sorry, but I have to leave now.” Without another word, she stood and brushed past him.

He caught her arm and stopped her. “Did I say something wrong?”

The inner struggle in her mind played out on her face as she chewed her bottom lip and glanced between him and something in the distance. She shook her arm free and plunged into the crowd.

Byron finished his Jack and Coke in one shot. Like hell he'd let her get away from him now. He grabbed a twenty from his wallet, threw it on the counter and followed her.

CHAPTER 3

The hair on the back of Lana's neck stood up as she drew closer to the group of bloodsuckers. Three young, impossibly pretty girls dressed in the latest designer fashions. These were the vamps she'd become accustomed to killing, not the desperate gigolo she encountered last night. But this also meant they probably had a few more years of experience over him. And three against one would take more effort and planning on her part.

Her arm still stung from where Byron had grabbed it, matching the sting of regret she felt from leaving him so abruptly. Why did these bloodsuckers have to show up right in the middle of her first semblance of a date in the last ten years? Never mind that Byron seemed intent on running smack into his own grave by acting like a rogue hunter. He was still cute, very attentive, and managed to turn her insides to goo with just a glance.

One of the vampires turned and stared directly at her. Lana's stomach knotted. When the target issued a challenge, the huntress within seized control. Something didn't feel right about this. Part of her wanted to tell her instincts to go fuck themselves, but duty called. They knew she was following them, and she couldn't back down without looking like a coward. Her fingers wrapped around the stake in her purse as she pushed her way through the crowd.

They led her to the parking garage. Good. At least we don't have to have this showdown in the middle of a crowd of onlookers. Every instinct inside her screamed “trap” as they disappeared behind a concrete barrier.

She dropped back a few paces and crouched between two cars, letting her sixth sense direct her instead of her eyes. Muted laughter echoed off the walls from the other side. They sounded so cocky, like catching a seasoned hunter was child's play. Anger flared deep inside her. She'd show them.

“Where is she?” a male voice asked. “I thought you said she followed you.”

Her skin prickled. She hadn't seen a man in their group. Make that four to one now.

“She was. I even taunted her. She's here, somewhere.”

“Why can't I smell her then?”

“The Foundation is very careful about who they choose to be hunters,” answered a smooth male voice with a German accent. “Perhaps they chose her because she is invisible to us.”

Lana silently cursed her luck. That made at least five vampires, and whoever Adolf was, he didn't sound like a newborn. She mentally filed through the names of the older vampires and tried to remember if any were German. Two came to mind, and neither one of them had an innocent reputation.

“A phantom?” one of the girls asked.

She almost laughed. She'd never been called that before. Maybe when she sent her report to the Foundation in the morning, she'd inquire about the term.

“Phantom or not, I'd lay odds she's somewhere in this garage,” the other man barked. “Find her.”

They were splitting up. The sound of stilettos clicked down the ramp, and she tightened into a ball, ready to pounce on the first one who came into view.

The one who'd challenged her back at the casino stalked the aisles, peering between the cars on the opposite side through the shiny veil of her over-bleached hair.

Lana held her breath and tightened her grip on the stake. Ambushing Blondie sounded too fun to pass up. She raced from her hiding spot. The vampire turned, fangs bared, but not in time to keep the stake from plunging into her heart.

“Be careful who you mess with,” Lana whispered right before Blondie disintegrated.

A flicker of sound alerted her to the location of another attacker just after the tingling on the back of her neck increased. She whipped around and dodged another one of the female vampires. The bloodsucker moved slowly, as if she was unsure how to manage her new powers—a sign of being a newborn. She tore after Lana like a starving beast, opening her chest up as the perfect target for the twelve-inch piece of oak.

Great. Two down, three more to go, and none of them in sight. That observation alone set her on edge and tensed every muscle in her body. She honed her sixth sense, searching for the other vampires the way a German shepherd sniffs out the cocaine hidden in bags at the airport.

One level down, bullets ricocheted off the concrete. Lana ducked between two more cars. Let's have some lovely gang violence thrown in tonight, shall we?

The car next to her crunched and rocked, sending her heart up into her throat. “Gotcha,” the male vampire said above her.

She burst out from her hiding spot, but not before he caught her dress. The material tore in his hands, and her high-heel-clad ankle twisted from the jerk. Pain shot through her foot and up her leg. She hated those heels, but never like she did now. She struggled to her feet, ignoring the breeze that bathed her back and the throb that pulsated in her ankle.

He lunged at her and she fell to the side to avoid him. Her stake grazed his skin but missed its target. All of her weight landed on her injured ankle, bringing tears to her eyes.

His arm swung out and knocked her into the car on the opposite side. The air flew from her lungs. Glass shattered around her from what was once the rear window of a Prius. He definitely wasn't a newborn, not with strength like that. She'd have some nasty bruises in the morning from the blow. That is, if she lived to see the morning.

She blinked away the stars that bloomed on the edge of her vision and pulled herself up using the bumper. Sweat coated the palm of her hand, causing her stake to slip through her fingers.

“So, you're the best the Foundation has to offer.” He sauntered toward her, his brown eyes now glowing amber as the feeding frenzy consumed him. “Klaus said you were something of a legend, but I beg to differ. I think his opinion will change when I show him what's left of your body.”

“Think again,” a familiar voice answered behind them, followed by three shots. The vampire's arms flung up into the air from the impact of the bullets, his chest lurching forward. He turned to dust before he hit the road.

“What the fuck?” Lana's gaze went from the remains of the vampire scattering in the wind to her unexpected savior. “Bullets don't kill vampires.”

“They do when they're wooden tipped.” Byron slipped his gun back into his holster and approached her. “Is that all of them?”

“No, there's two more, but I'm not in any condition to tangle with them now.” She hobbled toward him.

“Smart girl.” He scooped her up into his arms. “I killed one of the females below. Let's go before more show up.”

Byron ran down the ramp to the outside, cradling her with each step. Her heart was still pounding in her ears. Thank God he'd followed her into the parking garage, or she'd have ended up being ripped to shreds. She knew she should be scolding him for being so reckless, but being alive and this close to him blurred her thoughts.

Sucking in a deep breath filled her nose with his scent. The aroma of warm, sun-baked leather mingled with the unique smell of his skin. So raw, so male, so arousing.

Her cheeks flamed, both from the direction her thoughts were heading and from being carried in his arms past the throngs of shocked tourists. “You can put me down now. I know how heavy I am.”

“You're not heavy at all.” His breathing slowed and his face showed no sign of strain. He seemed to be moving a pillow, not a person.

“But people are staring.”

“Let them stare. This is Vegas. They probably think we're some newlyweds anxious to get back to our hotel room.” He flagged a cab.

Her flush spread lower. If only that were the truth. She'd love to see the body hidden under the twill shirt and blue jeans. Not that their snug fit left much to the imagination. Lean muscle ripped under her fingers that splayed across his chest.

When the taxi stopped, he climbed into the backseat with her, keeping her balanced in his lap. “Give the man an address.”

Oh, dear Lord, he wanted to go back to her place. What else did he want? “Um, this is really too much, Byron.”

“I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know you have your ankle propped up with a bag of ice on it. Now tell the man where to go or I will.”

His voice almost growled the last sentence, like he wasn't used to people challenging his orders. A shiver coursed down her spine. Normally she didn't like domineering men, mainly because she could kick most of their asses when push came to shove. But Byron looked like the type that could match her, tit for tat. An equal. A challenge. She rattled off the address to her condo just off the Strip and nestled into his arms. It would be a short ride, but she might as well enjoy it while she could.

His arms wrapped around her, warm and comforting. How long had it been since she allowed herself to get physically close to someone like this? She knew getting involved with him was out of the question—too many complications—but would one night disrupt the balance of her life?

“Let me take a look at your ankle.”

He slid his hand down her leg and her sex tightened. An amused light shone in his eyes when she met his gaze, like he knew exactly how horny he was making her. And if she wasn't mistaken, he was struggling to contain his arousal as much as she was.

He cleared his throat. “It's already starting to swell a bit. Can you move it, wiggle your toes? Do we need to take a detour by the hospital to make sure it's not broken?”

She followed his commands, wincing as she did. “I think I'll survive. It's just a sprain.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Maybe some bruised ribs,” she admitted. Her mind played back the encounter with the last vampire, and a cold chill washed over her insides. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving my life. And for taking care of me afterwards.” God, she hated to admit she needed help. It gnawed at her gut, but if she had to be rescued by anyone, she would've picked him. “But you need to be careful. You saw what they're like, and from what I overheard, they were setting up a trap.”

“For me or for you?”

“Me.”

A reckless grin spread across his face. “Then maybe you're the one who needs to be more careful. Maybe you should take someone with you when you hunt.”

She glanced up at the driver, wondering how much he'd overheard and understood. “Let's change the subject.”

“Of course,” he said as he ran one callused hand over her legs and massaged the base of her neck with the other. “What did you have in mind?”

One look told her exactly what he had on his mind. Even if she closed her eyes, the firm ridge in his pants pressing against her thigh made her all too aware of his thoughts. “Are you always this forward with women?”

“Sometimes. Actually, I'd say I've been holding back on you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you're different than most women.”

That was an understatement. How many women prowled the streets at night with a wooden stake in their purse?

“You seem to be the type who likes to call the shots,” he continued. The sensuous curve of his lips rose into a smile, making his implications clear. He was waiting on her to make the next move.

Her heart raced. One kiss wouldn't cause too many problems, would it? Plus, it might calm the growing curiosity inside her. Before common sense could talk her out of it, she gently brushed her lips against his. They were warm, soft, yielding to hers.

When she tried to pull away, his fingers threaded through her hair. Her breath caught. The hunger in his hazel eyes told her he wanted more than that, and frankly, so did she. This time, when their lips met, she did the yielding. Her mouth parted and his tongue swept in.

Mmm…this is how a kiss should feel. Each sweep of his tongue, each nibble of his teeth, fanned the smoldering fire inside the lowest pit of her stomach. The stubble on his chin grated against her skin, adding a new sensation to her already hyper-aware brain. She curled his short hair around her fingers and held on for the ride, not wanting it to end.

A soft moan formed in his throat and he grew bolder in his advances. The hand on her leg worked its way under her dress. He stroked her seam through her already-soaked panties. Now it was her turn to moan. He repeated the action and she pressed against his hand, urging him to keep doing it, to go deeper next time.

A loud cough interrupted them, and Lana pulled away. The taxi was idling in the driveway of her condominium complex. Her cheeks burned. Had she really been so caught up in making out with a relative stranger in the backseat of a cab that she hadn't realized they'd reached their destination?

Byron's hand withdrew from under her dress. “Let me walk the lady upstairs, and I'll be back in a moment.”

“Yeah, right,” the driver replied. “Just so you know, the meter's running.”

“No problem.” He opened the door and scooped her back into his arms. “Got your keys, Lana?”

She searched her purse while she gave him directions to her unit. Despite the fact that she'd been sucking his face a few seconds ago, she couldn't meet his eyes now. Once they entered the elevator, she whispered, “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For acting that way in the cab. I usually have better control over myself.”

His laughter echoed off the stainless-steel walls. “So you're saying you don't normally hook up with random strangers?”

“You don't have to say it that way!” She tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he held on to her tighter. “You really don't have to carry me all the way up to my condo, you know.”

“What if I want to?”

Although she hated to admit it, she wanted to stay in his arms. For once in her life, she felt less like a tough-as-nails huntress and more like a fairy-tale princess. Of course, what she wanted to do to him didn't belong anywhere near a Disney movie.

The elevator doors opened, and something sank into her stomach like a lead weight. The end of the line. The end of the night with Byron. Why did that disappoint her so much? She should be focused on work, on composing a report to the Foundation about what had happened tonight and researching whoever this Klaus fellow was, but all she wanted to do was taste his lips again. Years of sex deprivation had finally caught up with her.

He set her down in front of her door. “Will you be okay from here?”

No, her mind screamed. He'd left her body aching and needy for more than just a kiss. She should be flattered that he'd left the taxi waiting downstairs, a sure sign that he didn't want just a random hookup with her. Oh, dear God, was he disappointed with her? Had it been so long since she'd kissed someone that she sucked at it? Only one way to find out.

She seized the collar of his blazer and pulled him against her, her mouth devouring his. She tasted traces of the Jack and Coke he'd drunk earlier, along with something more primal, more sexual. Desire.

All semblances of self-control got tossed to the side. He pressed her against the door, pulling her injured leg up until it hooked around his waist and the hem of her dress gathered around her waist. His erection rubbed against her intimate areas, tormenting her with the layers of material that separated them.

He broke his lips away from hers and trailed them down her neck. The combination of his rough stubble mixed with the gentle flicks of his tongue and teasing nips of his teeth nearly sent her over the edge. Who cared if they were humping in the middle of the hallway? She wanted him to fuck her right here and now.

“Lana.” He moaned her name like a starving wolf presented with a haunch of fresh meat. His hands cupped her buttocks, raising her ever so slightly so his cock stimulated the exquisitely sensitive nub between her legs.

A shudder ripped through her body. She reached for the door handle, eager to continue this in her bed. Screw the cab waiting downstairs. She'd pay for the running meter at this point, so long as he left her a satisfied and exhausted puddle of flesh when he finished with her.

The door flew open beside her, and if Byron hadn't caught her, they would've landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs. A petite Hispanic woman stared at them with round brown eyes.

Oh, shit, is this the wrong condo?

CHAPTER 4

Lana's face burned as Byron released her and yanked her dress down. She checked the number beside the door. No, this was her condo.

A mischievous grin spread across the stranger's face. “Am I interrupting something, Lana?”

The picture from the dossier Lana reviewed that morning flashed in front of her. “Espe, what the hell are you doing here? You're not supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”

Her new mentee shrugged. “I got an earlier flight, and Wade gave me a key to the condo.” She looked Byron over from head to toe. “I take it you had plans for the evening?”

Plans wouldn't be the right word. More like spontaneous fucking. And now that had flown out the window. Nothing cooled raging lust like getting caught by someone who supposedly looked up to her as a role model.

Byron seemed to regain his composure sooner. “The taxi's still waiting downstairs. I'd better get going.” He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, “I'll see you later.”

The husky tone of the last sentence sent a shiver down her spine. He considered this unfinished business just like she did, and she could hardly wait for next time. If there will be a next time, she thought with a grimace when she saw Espe out of the corner of her eye.

“I mean it, Byron—be careful.”

“Take your own advice,” he replied with a cocky grin as the elevator doors closed in front of him.

A sigh of exasperation escaped her lips. The damn man was so infuriating at times. She hoped he wouldn't try hunting alone when he left. “Can you give me a hand?”

Espe studied her. Lana could only imagine how she looked. Swollen ankle, torn dress, hair probably tousled from her little escapade with Byron. Great first impression to make on a hunter fresh out of training. “What happened? Other than him, I mean.”

She leaned against the younger woman and hobbled into the condo. “I twisted my ankle during a hunt.”

“And where did he come into play in all this?” Espe set Lana on the couch.

“He's a rogue hunter.”

“Uh-oh.” The playful grin fell from her face.

Thank goodness she knew enough to realize that spelled trouble.

“Yeah, but tonight he came in handy. I doubt I'd be standing here if he hadn't shown up.”

“And you decided to thank him properly, huh?”

Lana placed her best scowl on her face. “That's none of your business. Go get me something to put on my ankle.”

Espe got the hint and scampered over to the freezer. “One bag of frozen peas, coming up.” She tossed them across the room and sat on the edge of the leather footstool when she came back. “So, tell me what happened during the hunt.”

“What has the Foundation told you so far?”

“Just that you've noticed an increase in newborns lately. They figured it would be a good training ground for me to get some kills under my belt since they're easier to handle.” Her dark eyes lit up with excitement.

Lana suppressed a groan. Rookies. They had such an oversimplified view of the job. “Yeah, the newborns are easy to kill, but what about the vampire who's creating them?”

Her face fell. “Oh, I didn't think about that.”

“That's why they apprentice you rookies with more experienced hunters.”

The smile reappeared on her lips. “And you're one of the best. You're practically a legend at the Academy.”

“I'm scared to ask why.”

“You're one of the oldest living hunters. You've gotten more kills than anyone in the Foundation.”

“I seriously doubt that. I can think of one witch in particular who's been active longer than I have.” An involuntary shiver raced down her spine as she remembered the strange glow in that woman's eyes during their one and only meeting. If she could finish out her career without running into Morwen again, she'd die a happy woman.

Espe bounced on the cushion of the footstool. “Back to tonight.”

“I followed three newborns into a trap.”

“Oh my God! Really? How'd you escape?”

She shifted on the couch, carefully choosing her words. “I killed two of them, and Byron got the other two. One escaped, but he's the one who worries me. Does the name `Klaus' ring a bell?”

The younger woman grew statue still and dug her fingers into the leather. “Klaus, the two hundred and sixty-three-year-old German vampire created by Sergei?”

Shit! One of Sergei's creations. Just the headache she didn't need. “Sounds like he fits the description. By the way, do you always sound like a walking textbook?”

Espe giggled. “Sorry, but I loved vampire history at school. I fancy myself something of an expert at it.”

“Better you than me.” She reached for her laptop. “I need to file my report for the evening.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Lana eyed her over the screen. Way too eager for my tastes. Either that, or I'm becoming a big grouch. Hunting was no longer fun. It hung around her neck like an albatross, keeping her from living a normal life. “You can have that room.” She nodded toward the spare bedroom and then pointed to a binder on her desk. “Unpack, get settled in, and memorize this map of the Strip. If you get bored, that binder has the layout of every major casino in town. It's important that you're always aware of your surroundings.”

“Will do.” She jumped to her feet and pulled her luggage into the guest room.

At last, a few minutes of peace. Lana leaned her head back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling, mentally composing her report before her fingers typed it out. Her mind kept wandering back to Byron, reminding her how empty and unfulfilled she felt now.

She sighed and started describing the trap in her report. “It's probably for the best,” she muttered. “I don't need to be encouraging a rogue hunter to get involved in these things.” Or with me.

But he still ambushed her thoughts. The memory of his lips, of his hands, of his rock-hard erection against her body flared her simmering desire. She gritted her teeth and rushed through the rest of her report, glossing over the inclusion of the rogue hunter and focusing on the possible involvement of Klaus in the latest happenings. She ended by mentioning her injured ankle. Maybe they'd send Yuan over to heal her in the morning.

She snapped the laptop closed and limped back to her room. For the second night in a row, her last thoughts revolved around the sexy man who made her wish she lived another life.

 

***

 

The first streaks of dawn had appeared in the sky when Byron turned his Jeep Wrangler onto the dirt road that led to the ranch. The hour-long drive had been one of pure hell, and it all centered around one person. Lana. If he had any doubts about her being his true-mate earlier, they'd vanished the moment her lips touched his. No question about it—she was meant for him. And that was the part that stung the most. How would she react once she found out what he really was?

He tried not to think about that as he pulled into the driveway. Instead, he focused on how hot and heavy things had quickly gotten between them. Her arousal had matched his, maybe even surpassed it. Yet another sign he couldn't ignore. If her roommate hadn't interrupted him, he'd probably be lying next to her right now instead of coming to the end of a bumpy ride with blue balls.

Greg met him at the door. The porch light reflected off his glasses, concealing his eyes. “Any luck tonight?”

“You could say that.”

His closest friend sniffed him as he passed. “In what way? You smell like a woman.”

“I killed two vampires tonight, so we now know the wooden-tipped bullets work. I'm gonna need more of them.”

Greg nodded and crossed his arms. “You're not going to tell me about her, are you?”

“Not yet.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “I'm sure it will come out soon. In the meantime, I'll get busy making more of those bullets.”

“Thanks.” He collapsed on the couch, grateful Greg didn't press the matter. Two nights of sexual frustration had left him drained. Maybe tomorrow he'd get a room at one of the casinos and stay in Vegas for the rest of the week.

“The little nephew's returned, eh?” Alan strutted into the room like the Alpha wolf he wanted to be. Out of the entire pack, only he challenged Byron's inheritance. Of course, being the biggest wolf in the pack meant Alan didn't lack his share of followers. And frankly, if Byron trusted Alan to lead the pack, he'd let him have the headache of being the Alpha.

“Just for a while.”

“Catch Eddie's killer yet?”

The image of his uncle lying on the floor of the ranch house filled his memory, causing his gut to roll. Whoever killed Eddie had to be an older vampire, someone stronger and more experienced than the ones he killed tonight. The only clue he had was a few seconds of a voice message on Eddie's phone when a man with a German accent stated it was time to renegotiate the treaty.

“Not yet, but I got a few leads. I'm planning on staying in Vegas for a few nights so I can catch the son of a bitch before the full moon.” He forced a cocky grin on his face. If catching Eddie's killer wouldn't win him pack leadership, he didn't know what would.

Alan's face hardened and he cracked his knuckles. “We'll see about that.”

Byron refused to let Alan coerce him into a fight now. Sometimes, brains meant more than brawn, and he didn't need to be a batch of bruises if he wanted to hunt tomorrow night. Or score with Lana.

He stood and stretched. “Well, I'm beat. Goodnight, boys.”

“That's right. Run with your tail between your legs. Drown your guilt in a bottle, right, Byron?”

Greg lunged at Alan, and Byron threw his arm over his chest, restraining him before the larger werewolf beat him to a pulp. “Shut the fuck up! If anyone could have saved Eddie, it was you. You were the only one here, not any of us.”

“Watch your mouth, runt.”

“Ah, fuck you. I wouldn't be surprised if you sat back and watched the vamps kill him.”

Byron shoved Greg onto the couch so Alan's beefy fist wouldn't connect with his friend's face. “Stop it, both of you. Fighting among ourselves won't change the past. In seven nights, we'll determine a new Alpha, but until then, Eddie left the ranch to me. I'm in charge, and I say anyone who wants to cause trouble will be shown the door. Got it?”

Alan smirked. “Of course, little nephew.”

“I guess so,” Greg muttered when Byron turned to him. “I'll be in the shop.”

Byron caught his arm before he stomped out of the house. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Alan's just trying to bully you into submission, so don't give him any reason to break your face.”

“Whatever.” Greg shrugged free. “All I'm saying is that if he becomes Alpha, I'm looking for a new pack.”

Byron watched his competition out of the corner of his eye. “You and me both.”

CHAPTER 5

Loud knocking pulled Lana from her dreams. She opened one eye and peeked at the alarm clock. 1:13 p.m. Not an ungodly hour, considering she'd gone to bed sooner than she usually did, but still earlier than she would've liked.

The banging stopped and voices drifted in from the living room. Espe must've let the person in, whoever it was. At least with it being daylight outside, she didn't have to worry about a gang of bloodsuckers setting another trap. Goose bumps prickled her skin when she realized how close she'd come to biting the bullet last night. If Byron hadn't shown up…

She smothered her cry of frustration with her pillow. Why can't I get him off my mind? Am I really that hard up to get laid? But her chest tightened when she realized she wanted more than just a simple fuck with him. He knew what she was, what she did, and hadn't run away screaming from her. It was a start. She hated that she'd have to keep him at arm's length, though it would be safer for everyone.

Yuan burst into the room without knocking. “I hear you had an interesting night.” She began unpacking her kit.

Lana sat up and pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes. “Interesting is an understatement.”

The tiny witch laughed and pulled out her box of acupuncture needles. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Do you have to poke me?”

“Yes. I have to balance out your Qi if you want me to heal you, and yours is always out of whack. Now lie down and tell me where to focus first.”

Lana flopped back into the pillows and winced. “My ribs or my ankle—take your pick.”

Yuan grabbed her wrists and felt her pulse on each side. “Show me your tongue.”

“This is completely unnecessary—”

“Don't argue with me if you want to feel better. The Foundation sent me to restore your health and I always do a complete job. Tongue, now.”

Lana made a childish face and did as she was told. She glanced over Yuan's shoulder at Espe, who was watching the entire process with rabid curiosity.

The witch shook her head and sighed. “I have my work cut out for me.”

“How can you tell?” the rookie asked. “You haven't even looked at her injuries.”

“Espe, Yuan is a skilled witch who works for the Foundation. Although I don't always enjoy her treatments, I always feel better afterwards. Let her do her work.”

“And let me do it in private.” Yuan ushered Espe out of the room. “When you get roughed up, I'll heal you. In the meantime, I need to concentrate on Lana.” As soon as the door closed, she rested her hands on her hips. “You're going to have your hands full with that one.”

“Tell me about it. She's fresh out of the Academy.”

Yuan scrunched her face like she'd just eaten a lemon. “Anxious to get a kill and thinks she knows it all?”

“Pretty much.” She pulled off her nightshirt and rolled over onto her stomach so she wouldn't have to watch the first needles prick her skin. A smell of rubbing alcohol burned her nose as Yuan swiped a pad over her skin, leaving an icy chill behind as it evaporated.

“So, who is he?”

Lana flinched at the question just as the first needle entered her skin. A small current of electricity shot through her body and made her grit her teeth to keep from crying out. The first few pricks always felt like that. “What do you mean, he?”

“Don't play games with me, Lana. I know you well enough to see how your Qi has changed. You've met someone.”

More needles followed, each slowly relieving the ache in her ribs. As her muscles relaxed, she opened up to her friend. “He's going to be as much trouble as Espe.”

“Most men are,” she replied with a snort. “How is he disrupting the balance in your life?”

Lana chewed her bottom lip as she thought about it. Yuan could have a second job as a shrink, if she wanted. Maybe she was even part mind reader. “He's made me think of either retiring or breaking the Foundation's rules.”

“That hot, huh?”

The memory of them in the hallway caused her sex to clench. “Hot doesn't begin to describe it. I lose all control of myself when I'm around him. I haven't been this turned on since…” Her voice drifted off, and the ache in her heart quelled any desire left in her body. She still couldn't bring herself to say his name out loud.

Warmth rolled over her bare back like a tropical breeze. Yuan's healing felt better than a massage once she got past the needles.

“Do you think Max would want you to grieve for him this long?” Yuan's voice grew quiet with the hum of magic behind her words.

“I don't grieve for him so much as I'm reminded how much his death affected me. I don't ever want to put someone through that hell.” Or feel loss like that again, either.

“What is that old saying I hear at the roulette table every night? `Nothing ventured, nothing gained'?”

“Money and someone else's heart are two different things.”

“Maybe so, maybe not.” She started placing needles in Lana's ankle. “If you weren't a hunter?”

“I'd be all over him like white on rice.”

“Then you have your answer.”

Lana lifted her head and turned to the witch. “Do you always talk in riddles?”

Yuan chuckled. “I'm just a healer and a good listener. Only you can determine what's the best course for your life. Until then, I'm here to help you gain focus and balance.”

“Until I drop a house on you for sticking needles in me.”

“Like this?”

A slight prick on her ankle caused another electric jolt to race through her that was so intense, it made her teeth ache. She swore under her breath. “I think you just won the title of the Wicked Witch of the Strip.”

Yuan's lighthearted laughter sounded oddly out of tune with the turmoil in Lana's heart. She let them swirl around her until the pain lessened in her ankle and in her chest.

 

***

 

Byron awoke as the sun was setting over the burnt orange mountains. Sleep had been a bitch that eluded him all night. Thoughts of Lana clashed with images of his uncle's dead body and his concerns for the fate of the pack. What would it take to bring peace to his unsettled mind? Sex? Revenge? Power?

He rubbed his face and grimaced at the rough stubble under his fingertips. Damn, he didn't even feel like himself. He was usually the one the pack turned to when chaos ruled everything else. Before Alan joined, no one questioned him as Eddie's choice to become the next Alpha. Hell, the old man had groomed him to take over since he joined the pack as a child, far too young in age to bear the curse of the werewolf's bite, but mature beyond his years. Or, at least, that's what Eddie always told him.

He thanked God every day that Eddie had taken him in when his own parents wanted nothing to do with him. He was seven when a large wolf attacked him during a family camping trip at Yosemite. He had survived, but when the first full moon came, the transformation his body underwent terrified him and everyone around him. His father, under consideration for dean at a small college at the time, threw him into a mental hospital to avoid anyone learning the truth. The day Eddie showed up and whispered that he knew exactly what Byron was going through had become a bright star burned into his memory forever.

Byron's fist clenched. He owed that man his life, his sanity. And he would find Eddie's killer if it was the last thing he ever did. This whole true-mate thing was distracting him from his real goal. Granted, Lana teased and tormented him in ways he couldn't imagine, but all of them were pleasant in their own way. A form of sweet torture compared to his need for vengeance.

Stubble always reminded him of the three days of the month when he lost control of his mind and body and collapsed in a disheveled heap when the full moon set each morning. After a long shower, he took his time shaving and dressing. Even his boots wore a mirror shine by the time he finished with them. Tonight, he wanted to show Lana what he normally looked like.

Greg was waiting for him when he entered the kitchen. He pointed to the package on the counter. “I made you a whole box last night.”

“Thanks.” He flipped open the lid and admired the identical rows of wooden-tipped bullets. “You're a master at these.”

He shrugged. “If I'm gonna be the smallest in the pack, I need to prove my usefulness somehow.”

A growl formed in Byron's throat. Greg had become like a brother to him over the years. “If anyone questions your place in the pack, let me know and I'll rip his throat out.”

“Thanks for the support, but what did you say last night? That we shouldn't be fighting among ourselves?”

“There's a difference between defending your brothers and bullying them.” He reached into the fridge and grabbed a soda. It was too hot for coffee, but he still needed his caffeine jolt for the hunt tonight. “You want to come with me to Vegas for a few days?”

“And intrude on you and your lady friend? No way.”

The image of Lana with her pupils dilated and her leg wrapped around his waist while he kissed her in the hallway flickered in his mind, and the blood rushed to his cock. He shook his head to clear his mind. First kill the vampire; then, try to convince someone like her to want someone like me. “I don't think I'll be playing with her tonight.”

His friend snorted and sank into a nearby chair. “Tell me what's so special about her. You're more of the love 'em and leave 'em type. For you to keep running back to her says something.”

Byron kept his mouth shut. With Alan's smear campaign going on, he didn't need him to catch wind of Lana and use her against him.

Greg was in the process of cleaning his glasses when he froze and his mouth fell open. “Aw, you're shittin' me, right?”

“Shut up, Greg.”

“Seriously?”

“I told you to shut up.” Byron snatched his keys off the hook and stalked out the back door before his friend could utter the words he didn't want to hear.

Greg followed him down the driveway and shoved his hand in the door of the Jeep to keep him from closing it. “The truth? Just between us?”

He gripped the steering wheel and pounded his head against the back of his seat. “Yes, she's special.”

“Special, or special-special?”

“Dammit, Greg, what do you want me to say? That's she's my true-mate? That there might be some smidgeon of truth to the legends?”

“Holy shit.” He reached for his glasses and began to clean them again. Silence filled the space between them for almost a minute. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

“What can I do? She's a vampire hunter and I'm worried she has a stockpile of silver bullets hidden on the side. I can't tell her the truth.”

“Bullshit. You're just scared to let someone know the truth.”

He thought about it for a moment. A heaviness settled over his chest, making it hard to breathe. “You're right, because if there's any more truth to the legends and she rejects me—or worse, hunts me—it might destroy me.”

“But if you don't mate with her, it will do the same thing. Listen, I know you probably don't want to hear this, but do you know how Eddie always used to say that there was something beyond our wills that shaped our lives?”

He nodded, remembering the first time he heard those words from the man whom he looked up to as a father. Byron had asked him why he'd been turned into a werewolf. Eddie's explanation had comforted him then as a child, but now, too many doubts filled his heart.

“So if you've found your true-mate, there must be a reason why. And I don't think God or Fate or whoever is behind all this would be so cruel as to bring her into your life only to destroy you. If she's a vampire hunter, chances are she's a bit more open to people like us than most normal women would be.”

A half smile forced its way onto his lips. “Thanks for the advice. Sometimes I don't see things so clearly.”

“That's because you usually have your head up your ass,” Greg said with a grin.

The engine roared to life with a twist of the ignition and he closed the door. “Stay out of Alan's way until I get back, and call me if anything seems fishy.”

His friend stepped out of the way and disappeared into the dust cloud in his rearview mirror as he drove away. Maybe things weren't as bad as he imagined they would be. There was only one way to find out. Tonight, if he found Lana, he'd try to earn her trust and discover her opinion on werewolves. If there was a chance in hell he could make this work, he'd give it all he had.

CHAPTER 6

Lana pursed her lips together and drummed her fingers on the bar inside the Luxor. The Foundation had had enough insight to give Espe a fake ID so she could patrol the casino floors. Unfortunately, she had decided to squeeze in a little flirtation when she finished her rounds. At least she wasn't knocking back shots or something stupid like that while on the job.

When Espe didn't notice her, Lana cleared her throat. Loudly.

The younger woman spun around and a flush crept into her cheeks. “Lana, I didn't see you there.”

“Obviously,” she said and glared at the five men clamoring for Espe's attention.

Nervous laughter spilled from her mentee's lips. “Well, it's been a slow night. I've been walking and walking and nothing. Zero. Nada. Zip. So, I decided to take a break and grab something to drink…” She shrugged as if to say the male attention came with the territory.

“Who's your friend, Espe?” A wannabe frat boy threw his arm over Lana's shoulders. “She's hot. Let's invite her upstairs to our little party, too.”

Lana's skin crawled from his touch. She threw off his arm and resisted the urge to break it. Causing a scene would only draw attention to them, and with an elder vampire setting traps for hunters, they didn't need any more trouble than they already had. “Time to get back to work, Espe,” she said in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Aw, don't be such a bitch,” another guy slurred. “We just wanna have a little fun.”

“You have no idea how bitchy I can truly be.” Lana tightened her jaw and grabbed Espe by the wrist, yanking her away from her horde of half-drunk admirers.

When they'd retreated about twenty feet away from the bar, Espe jerked free. “Why did you have to do that? I was just taking a little break and trying to have some fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah, like you were having last night with your guy.”

Lana fought to keep her cheeks from turning red as her body remembered how well it fit against Byron's. She crossed her arms, hoping her anger would keep her raging hormones in check. “That was a fluke.”

“A fluke, huh? It looked pretty serious to me.” Espe mirrored her stance.

“It was a one-time thing, and I shouldn't have let it get that far.”

“But you did, and I saw it.”

“And I'm sorry you caught me in a moment of weakness.”

“Come on, you can't tell me you've been a hunter this long and not indulged in a few one-night stands along the way. I mean, you seem to be all dedicated to your work, but you're also a woman.”

Espe's accusation hit her like a slap in the face. If she told the truth, she risked being seen as a withered old prune. If she played along, then she just encouraged her mentee's flirtatious behavior. “You're here to learn how to be a hunter, not interview me about my personal life.”

“But being a hunter bleeds into your personal life. I know the Foundation forbids you from telling outsiders about your work and discourages personal relationships, but, I mean, we're only human, and even a good double-D vibrator has its limitations.”

Tell me about it. She would've given anything last night to feel Byron inside her, his hard cock stroking the sensitive spot inside her pussy and sending her over the edge. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. “You have to ask yourself how dedicated you are to your work. You can't have your cake and eat it, too. The hunter's life is a lonely one because you can't afford distractions. While you're busy humping frat boys, innocent people could be getting killed.”

God, it sounded like a lecture for her, as well. No more humping sexy rogue hunters in the hallway.

Espe cocked a brow, obviously not buying Lana's speech for one moment. Then she sighed and threw her hands up. “Fine. Let's get back to work.”

“Stay with me for the rest of the night. I don't want you falling into a trap.”

“No, you don't want me having any fun.”

“Whoever said work was fun?”

 

***

 

Byron stood outside the Bellagio and stared at the taxi line. He checked his watch. Four a.m. and no sign of her all night. Maybe she'd stayed in her condo because of her ankle. Maybe he should've started there instead of hanging out here and at Caesars, waiting for Lana to show up. And while he was wasting time looking for her, he hadn't come across a single vampire in the process. All and all, a total disappointment of an evening so far.

When he reached for the taxi door, a familiar scent wafted on the breeze. He froze. It seemed weaker than before, but he knew it in an instant. Her. The wolf inside growled in anticipation. He turned upwind and followed it to the Paris.

Eddie always warned him against thinking with his dick, but as soon as he caught her scent, something completely primitive seized control of him, and nothing else mattered. A vampire could've walked in front of him and he wouldn't have noticed. He needed to touch her supple flesh, to taste the sweet salt of her skin, to bury himself in…

Byron halted and leaned against the wall. His pulse pounded through his body and intensified the throbbing in his cock. He needed to have her soon or the beast inside would overwhelm him. It knew what it wanted and it grew more impatient with each passing second. Soon, it would take what it wanted, regardless of her reaction.

God, please don't let it get to that point.

Repeating the mantra “I'm a man, not a monster” over and over again in his mind, he continued his search. By the time he found her, he'd almost reined in his baser instincts.

Lana stood in the back corner of the casino with her roommate, pointing out something on the casino floor. She turned and from across the room their eyes locked. The beast inside howled in frustration at being restrained, but Byron crossed his arms and tried to look nonchalant as the two women approached him.

She licked her lips and almost seemed flustered when she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. How's the ankle?” He glanced at it and noticed no bruising, no Ace bandage, no signs of injury. She'd even had the audacity to wear three-inch platform sandals tonight. If he hadn't seen the swelling last night, he would've assumed she'd faked it.

She shifted on her feet. “Better, thanks.”

Her roommate watched the interplay between them with a snarky grin. She stuck out her hand. “I'm Espe.”

“Byron.”

A strange expression crossed her face when he shook her hand, and her brows knitted together. Did she know what he was? He broke the contact as soon as he could without appearing to be freaked out by her reaction.

“Nice to meet you.” She took a step back, still studying him. “Well, I'm about to call it a night. What do you say?”

Lana looked around the room as if someone had just roused her from a dream. A cool expression settled over her features when she addressed her roommate. “I think we have time for one more casino before dawn.”

“Why? It's been a quiet night and I'm bored to exhaustion.” She yawned. “Why don't you and Byron check out any other leads you have without me?”

“You're supposed to be learning.”

“And it's my first night. Cut me some slack, will ya?” Espe pulled her aside and whispered something in her ear, causing Lana's cheeks to turn a delicious shade of pink. He could only imagine what she'd said, but he had a general idea based on the way they both looked at him.

“See ya around, Byron,” Espe said with a wave, leaving a slightly embarrassed Lana behind.

His fingers itched to touch her, but he shoved them into his pockets. “No ambushes tonight?”

She shook her head and her shoulders relaxed. “No sign of trouble anywhere, and that has me nervous.”

“For what it's worth, I haven't seen any of them at Caesars or Bellagio. Care to check out the Venetian with me?”

“How does someone completely untrained know what to look for?”

“Some things are instinctual.” He closed the space between them and bathed in her scent. Right now, his instincts told him to get her up to his suite at the Venetian and remove every article of clothing that clung in all the right places to her lean body.

Her pupils enlarged, and her grip tightened over the straps of her purse until her knuckles turned white. Her breath quickened. “Instinctual?”

A grin raised the corners of his mouth. She seemed just as aroused as he was, and they hadn't even touched each other yet. So far, so good. “Yeah, sort of like that gut feeling you have when you cross someone who isn't quite right. Or maybe when you bump into someone who seems a little too right.”

There. He'd laid his cards on the table for her, letting her know he wanted her without sounding like some horny pervert. He realized he was holding his breath while he waited for her response.

“I think I know what you're talking about.” She lowered her eyes and took a step toward the main entrance. “I suppose checking out the Venetian before heading home wouldn't hurt, so long as you stay out of my way if we find anything there.”

“Trying to steal my thunder?”

“Trying to keep you from getting killed.”

He chuckled at her overprotectiveness. If she only knew that he was really a wolf in human clothing, not some helpless little lamb. “If I remember correctly, I saved your life last night.”

She bristled at his comment. “No need to get cocky.”

“I meant what I said about joining forces. I think we'd make a great team.” He trailed after her as she meandered through the crowd, his strides easily matching hers.

“I'm not authorized to work with outsiders.”

“Who says Big Brother needs to find out? I want to catch my uncle's killer. You want to kill any bloodsucker that moves. It's a win-win situation from where I'm standing.”

She stopped and rubbed her forehead once they reached the sidewalk. “Is that the only reason you're following me around, Byron? To get your revenge?”

“No,” he blurted out.

“Then why?”

A lump expanded in his throat, cutting off the air and causing spit to pool under his tongue. He swallowed hard to push it down into his stomach, where it sat like a lead brick. How much should he tell her now? “The truth?”

“It would be a good place to start.”

He glanced around at the scant traffic on the sidewalk, but still felt uncomfortable telling her with an audience. He wouldn't be surprised if Alan had spies positioned within earshot, and with a werewolf, that could mean a block away at this time of night. “Can we please go someplace where we can't be overheard?”

“Where do you suggest?”

“I have a room at the Venetian.”

Her head snapped up, and her lips parted. A new facet enhanced her scent. He'd smelled it last night in the hallway, but now he knew what it was. Her arousal. His cock strained against his zipper as he inhaled it. “No funny business?” she asked softly.

“You call the shots, remember?”

“Good.” She pulled herself together, appearing to be all professional for the moment. “Maybe I can talk some sense into you.”

“I doubt it, but you can try.”

Despite the raging hard-on, he brushed past her and led the way to the Venetian with a smile on his face. If he could get her into his bed, then maybe tonight wouldn't be a total failure. The wolf inside wagged its tail in delight.

CHAPTER 7

Lana fiddled with her purse as she followed Byron, unsure how much trouble she was about to invite into her life. She didn't miss the distinct bulge in his jeans when he passed her, nor the heavy innuendo in his words. He had made it clear that he wanted her, but also that he was leaving it up to her to determine how far they took things. The way her body reacted whenever she came near him told her she should jump his bones now before one of them ended up dead. Her mind, on the other hand, cautioned her not to give in to him blindly. He was hiding something from her, but what?

Espe's whispered advice played again in her mind. Have a howling good time. What the hell did that mean? But as she caught a glimpse of the way his jeans clung to his tight ass, images of doing all kinds of naughty things came to mind. Her fingers itched to grab it, to pinch it, to feel the muscles slide under her palms as he pumped his cock deep inside her over and over again.

The cool desert night air suddenly felt like the noon sun. Damn, why had her mind gone there? Why had another man's touch made her skin crawl earlier tonight, whereas Byron's made her want to remove every stitch of clothing? She admitted she needed a good ol' fashioned fuck fest—a “Lana-palooza” where she came so many times, she would have trouble walking the next day. But it wouldn't be open to the general public. Just the one man she'd hungered for since the first second she'd laid eyes on him.

There, that settles it. Just sleep with him and get it out of your system.

Her gut tightened. She hated it when her common sense agreed with her emotional side.

But what if once isn't enough?

She shook her head. No, once would have to be enough. Anything more and she'd risk forming a relationship with him, however sick and twisted it might be.

With her walls up and a game plan in place, she entered the Venetian with a fixed smiled on her face.

Too bad the moment he took her hand, everything fell apart. The innocent gesture cracked her façade and set free a torrent of emotions inside her. They cascaded through her body from the point of contact with him, filling her with warm, panty-drenching lust. The lone song of a gondolier reverberated off the walls from the canal that wound its way through the casino. The pleading notes tugged at her heart, intensified her desire, and made her want to push him against the wall and finish what they'd started last night.

Her breath came out in ragged pants. Screw looking for vampires—they had less than half an hour to get back to their black holes before the sun came up anyway. Where were the elevators up to his room?

“Are you feeling okay, Lana?”

His question pulled her from her downward spiral of self-destruction. Her whole body burned. She blinked a few times to bring her surroundings back into focus. How should she answer him? Take your clothes off and fuck me now? “Um, why don't we just head upstairs?”

“And finish our discussion in private?” The raw edge in his voice nearly sent her over the edge. Jesus Christ, he seemed just as turned on as she was. If they made it to his room fully clothed, she couldn't decide if she'd be surprised or disappointed.

She got her answer as soon as the elevator doors closed. He took a step toward her and hesitated, as if he was worrying about being too aggressive. She'd barely inclined her head forward before he wrapped her up in his arms.

Their lips crushed together so fiercely, she could almost taste his desperation. Her mouth parted and his tongue swept in to ravage it. Each sensual flick heightened the throbbing tension between her legs. She pressed against the solid bulge in his jeans and frantically ground her hips, hoping to stimulate her already-sensitive clit.

The elevator dinged and they jumped apart like two teenagers caught making out in a car on the side of the road by the local sheriff.

His chest heaved up and down as if he'd just sprinted the hundred-meter dash at a world-record pace. “My room is just down the hall.”

“Good,” she managed to say between her own pants. The sooner they got to bed, the better.

He fumbled with the key card, his hand trembling as he inserted it into the slot. She inhaled through her teeth and tried not to tell him to hurry up. Dear God, what was wrong with her? She was acting crazier than that cougar from the other night.

The green light flashed, and they practically fell into the room. He kicked the door closed while his hands slid under the slinky material of her top. The warm calluses on his palms felt rough against her skin, complementing the almost savage way he kissed her.

Byron was a man's man, not some sissy metrosexual. He knew what he wanted, worked hard to get it, and had no qualms about being forceful when he needed to be. And she loved every second of it.

She slipped his blazer off, followed by his holster, and tugged at the buttons of his shirt. He needed to get naked now. He seemed to understand her urgency and broke lip contact long enough to pull her top over her head and then yanked at his shirt so hard, buttons flew across the room.

The sparse tawny hair that covered his chest tickled her aroused nipples through the thin lace of her bra. But still her hands traveled lower, now working on the zipper of his jeans as she backpedaled through the suite to the king-sized bed.

“Maybe we should slow things down before we get out of control,” he whispered in her ear before nibbling on the lobe.

“We'll have time to be slow afterwards.” She opened his jeans with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning and shoved them and his boxers down to his ankles. His erect cock sprang free, a fresh pearl of dew gathering on its tip. She fell to her knees and licked it, savoring the salty taste of it on her tongue. But she wanted more and took all of his hard, thick length into her mouth.

A shudder shook his body as he moaned. “Oh God, Lana, if you don't stop, I'm gonna come right in your hot little mouth.”

If he came now, how long would she have to wait before he was ready to come again? She gave the underside of his cock one final, long lick as she pulled away. “What do you suggest I do then?”

He took her hands and helped her back to her feet. “I want to savor you.” He cupped one of her breasts. His thumb flicked across her taut nipple through her bra, and she gasped at the intense thrill that such a simple action elicited. “Taste every inch of your skin.” His lips trailed down her throat in a combination of nips, nibbles and chaste kisses. She threw her head back, allowing him easy access to her throat. “Make you cry my name out as you come over and over again.”

“Tall agenda for one man.” But she didn't doubt he could fulfill each of his promises.

“I aim to please.” He removed her fitted black pants, leaving the lace panties that matched her bra in place, and stared at her with wonder in his eyes. “Lana, you're so beautiful.”

The low hush of his words sent a shiver of delight down her spine. Not even Max had made her feel like the goddess Byron did. She forgot about her imperfections and reveled in his adoration.

“Come to bed.”

She took his hand, admiring the sculpted muscles of his ass and back as she followed him. Before she crawled on the mattress, she kicked off her shoes and released her hair from the tight ponytail she'd worn tonight. Under the low light, she watched him shed the last of his clothes and noticed the long, jagged scars across his chest and chiseled abs.

She traced one of them with her finger when he came close enough to touch. “What happened?”

A high-pitched hiss sounded between his teeth, and her heart stopped. Had she touched on a subject that left deeper scars than what she saw on the outside?

He lay down next to her and covered one of her breasts with his hand. “I was attacked by a wolf when I was seven.” He watched her intently as if he were waiting for her to run screaming.

Instead, compassion welled up in her heart almost to the point where it exploded. His imperfections made him all the more desirable. She leaned over and pressed her lips against the highest scar on his chest. “But you survived.”

Some of the tension eased from his muscles while she covered the scars with her kisses. “Yes.”

Her hand wrapped around his cock as she continued lower. It throbbed in her hand in time with the dull ache forming in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him and all his male magnificence inside her, but when she tried to straddle his lap, he pushed her back into the pillows.

“Eager, huh?” His lopsided grin teased her almost as much as his erection rubbing against the inside of her thighs. “Perhaps I should teach you the benefits of patience.” And with that, he unhooked her bra and took her bare breast into his mouth.

Her sex spasmed with the first swipe of his tongue, and a whimper rose in her throat. “Please don't tease me all night.”

His chuckle vibrated through her chest. “There's teasing, and then there's foreplay.” His teeth grated against her nipple while his fingers massaged the other breast.

“There's foreplay, and then there's torture.” She dug her nails into his shoulder and lifted her hips, desperately trying to reach the angle where the head of his cock could penetrate her pussy. She'd never physically needed a man like this before, and it almost scared her.

He laughed again and moved lower, his tongue now swirling in the hollows of her navel. “But what sweet torture.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair, hoping he was heading where she thought he was. Talk about sweet torture. What was a girl to do but sit back and enjoy it? Her eyelids grew heavy, and her brain shut down so she could focus only on the basic sensations: the feel of his hands on her hips, the lingering taste of his kiss, the smell of their arousal in the air.

His finger hooked the top of her panties and pushed them aside before delving into her slick folds. It grazed her swollen clit, making her whole body stiffen in pleasure. He lifted his head, smiling at her reaction, and repeated the action. “Should I continue?”

Lana didn't trust her lips to form coherent words while his finger continued to toy with the tiny nub, so she just nodded.

“Do you have any idea how much you're turning me on?” He bent down and spread her thighs apart. His tongue slipped into her damp crevice. “How delicious you taste?”

“Byron, please, I'm so close.” The reality of her statement shocked her. Even with her toys, it seemed to take forever to reach an orgasm, and he already had her teetering over the brink.

His tongue danced a dizzying swirl about her clit while two of his fingers explored the deeper recess of her sex. The combination of rough and gentle, lapping and suckling, stroking and coaxing, culminated in a tension that coiled tighter and tighter until it reached the breaking point. She remembered shouting his name before she became lost in the deluge of bliss.

The last waves of her orgasm began to recede when she heard the crinkling of a foil wrapper. She instinctively spread her legs wider to accommodate his hips. With agonizing slowness, he entered her, filling her completely and stretching the walls of her pussy with his girth. An expression of pure ecstasy alternated with tense restraint on his face.

Worry over his internal battle almost ruined the moment for her. What is he thinking? She traced the lines of his face with her fingers. Why is he holding back? Does he think he'll hurt me? She shifted her hips, allowing him to go deeper inside her, and sighed. “Dear God, Byron, you feel so good.”

Her words seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. He began to move inside her, taking his time with each stroke and driving her nearly insane with lust. His eyes remained fixed on her face, but she didn't care what kind of funny contortions her features took. She needed to come again, and he seemed all too happy to oblige. Her hips moved to meet his and urged him to go faster.

“I have to be careful. I don't want to—” His words broke off in mid-sentence when she clenched her walls around him. “You have no idea…”

She pulled his lips to hers and kissed him until they couldn't breathe. “Don't worry about me. Just finish what you started.”

“My. Sweet. Sexy. Lana.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his cock, hitting her G-spot and bringing her back to the verge of coming again.

This is too good to be real. How can a man I've just met know me so well?

Sweat coated their bodies in a salty sheen she tasted every time her tongue touched his skin. He alternated his rhythm, speeding up until she almost came and then slowing down to draw out the experience as long as possible. Wickedly long. But she relished each second. After tonight, she'd never know the delight of being in his arms again. She'd never feel him inside her. Never feel wanted and cherished and—

Her thoughts halted as another wave of pleasure slammed into her, shattering her body and almost seeming to merge her consciousness with Byron's. What had been a purely physical sensation morphed into something deeper when she met his gaze. For a second, she swore she saw his soul right before a strangled cry broke from his throat and he came inside her.

His body trembled under her hands while he experienced his own roller coaster of bliss. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, kissed his face and neck, and toyed with the idea of never letting him go. She knew from the moment she met him he'd wreak havoc in her life, but she had no idea how one night with him could shake up her whole existence.

He collapsed and rolled off her, panting. Her body suddenly felt cold and abandoned. She cuddled next to him, eager to regain his warmth. One arm wrapped around her waist while the other brought her hand over his pounding heart. His male scent filled her nostrils and calmed her.

“Lana, I never expected—I mean, I—” His brows scrunched together. “I've never experienced something that intense before.” Then his eyes shot open and he flipped her over, running his fingers over her bare skin. Panic crept into his voice. “I didn't bite you or hurt you, did I?”

She giggled over his concern. “Why? Are you in the habit of doing such things to your lovers?”

Her chest tightened. Did I dare imply I was his lover?

“No, but I especially didn't want to hurt you. Just toward the end, I seemed to lose track of where I ended and you began, and I…” He paused and cupped her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. A strange glow illuminated their hazel depths. “I don't think I'll ever forget this night.”

“Neither will I.” Her throat grew raw from unshed tears. She wouldn't allow herself to cry. She should take every precious second and enjoy it instead of mourning the future. She'd deal with that in the morning.

He kissed her forehead and cradled her in his arms. His body grew still next to hers, and a few minutes later, his light snoring signaled that he'd already surrendered to his exhaustion. She pulled the sheets up to her breasts and closed her eyes. In the morning, she'd explain the rules to him. Although, based on the way she was feeling right now, she could become all too comfortable with sleeping in his arms every night for the rest of her life.

CHAPTER 8

When Byron opened his eyes, a veil of disorientation clouded his vision. A warm body snuggled closer to his, and his breath froze. Then memories of his night with Lana flooded his mind and drained away any lingering signs of panic. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tighter to him, marveling at how well her soft flesh molded against his.

Usually he'd wouldn't have lingered in bed long enough to enjoy the aftermath of sex. As soon as the woman dozed off, he'd be out the door. Staying longer risked forming an attachment, something that would become a pipe dream as soon the full moon rolled around. But for the first time in his life, he wanted something more, but only with Lana.

Now the question remained, when should he tell her about his monthly problem?

Her expression when she traced his scars still haunted him. He'd almost told her everything then. As it was, she knew more about his scars than most people. Had she already put the pieces together? Would her acceptance still apply when he informed her of the lingering aftereffects from this mauling? The gentle way she'd kissed his marred flesh sparked something inside him and pulled at his heart to the point it ached. For once, he felt more like a man and less like a monster, and his feelings for her changed from lust to something stronger.

Her face appeared so peaceful under the wild tangle of her dark hair. He brushed it back and watched her sleep. The same emotions from last night overwhelmed him, and he allowed them free rein rather than cursing them. He had always joked that Eddie's description of a true-mate was nothing more than a fairy tale, but now that he'd met Lana, he considered the possibility that maybe the old man had known more than he'd let on. Did he dare disrupt things when they seemed so perfect?

A smile played on her lips, and she murmured his name.

A possessive streak blindsided him, and the wolf inside bared his teeth. She was his and his alone. After today, he refused to share her with anyone. Drool gathered under his tongue like someone had just served up a hot porterhouse steak. He needed to mark her, to claim her as his own. Then there wouldn't be an issue of whether or not she accepted that he was a werewolf. She'd be one, too.

Disgust churned in his stomach, and he bolted from the bed. He needed to get away from her before he acted on this instinct. His mind abhorred the idea of forcing her to become like him, even though his bestial nature argued it was the next logical step. Bring your mate into the pack. Finish the mating process. Make her yours for the rest of your lives. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to crush those thoughts in his mind.

“Byron, are you okay?” Lana sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Her scent, now stronger than ever, called to the wolf within. Bite her. Ravage her. Do it now before she disappears. He tore his eyes away from her and stared out the window. “Yeah, just waking up.”

“Not a morning-after person, huh?”

The bitterness in her voice chilled him to the bone, and he pounced on her before she crawled out of bed. His lips sought hers, seeking their warmth and reassurance the way his lungs sought air. When had he become so dependent on her?

She resisted at first by digging her nails into his shoulders and trying to push him off. But he refused to budge and kept placing gentle kisses around the rim of her mouth until she yielded to him. Her body relaxed and molded to his. The sweetness of her mouth contrasted with the heat between her legs, but they both beckoned him like a cheery house on a cold winter's night. This was his home; this was where he belonged. And the beast inside seemed sated for the moment.

He forced himself to end the kiss before things got out of hand. “Sorry for earlier. I haven't had much practice in situations like this.”

“Neither have I.” Her fingers twisted the hair at the nape of his neck and tried to pull him back to her lips. Her legs shifted so his erect cock brushed against her folds, already slick and inviting.

As much as he longed to feel her tight walls around him again, he knew he had to stop this dangerous game before his bestial nature grabbed hold of him and he bit her hard enough to turn her. “Careful,” he warned, cupping both her cheeks. “I don't have any more condoms.”

Those six little words worked like magic. Her demeanor cooled and she released him. Lana might take chances with some things, but not with STDs and unwanted pregnancies, it seemed.

Not that it mattered much to him. Being a werewolf protected him against diseases, and the only way he could impregnate her was if she became like him.

Her lower lip jutted out in a slight pout. “Then I guess the fun's over.”

“For now, anyways.” Once I get a better hold of myself, I plan on making love to you all night long.

The muscles in his neck tensed as the implication of that phrase hit him. “Making love” instead of “fuck”. Now he knew he was in over his head.

“Worried about something?”

Yeah. Terrified over losing my heart and head and realizing this so-called mating myth might actually be true—the good, the bad and the ugly of it. Even though she still had the free will to reject him, he didn't. And if she did spurn him… He shuddered at the consequences. She now held his life and his sanity in her hands. But how could he tell her that without exposing his weakness?

He could have sworn he saw lightning flash in their steely grey depths as she watched him try and come up with a suitable answer to her question. She shoved him aside, yanked the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her naked body. “Never mind. I'll just find my clothes and be on my way.”

“Lana, please, don't leave this way.” He tried to grab her shoulders to stop her, but she avoided him with the fluid grace of a ninja.

She threw the rest of the covers aside and snatched her underwear off the bed. “I should have known the only man who would be interested in me would have issues.”

“Shit, it's not what you think.”

“No?” She stood so her face was inches from his but their bodies never touched. “Then why do you look like you're about to have a panic attack? Is this the first time you've been caught by a woman before you snuck out or something? What kind of scumbag are you?”

His gut tightened, and his anger helped break the paralyzing bonds of fear. “It's not what you think.”

She threw the hand clutching her lace panties up in the air and let an exasperated sigh escape from her lips. As soon as she gathered the rest of her clothes, the bathroom door slammed shut with her on the other side, dividing them.

A stream of curses erupted as he grabbed a pillow and hurled it across the room. He usually abhorred violence, but at that moment, the idea of smashing something tempted him more than he cared to admit. She'd gotten under his skin, become part of him, and she was running away before knowing half the story.

He took a deep breath and let it cleanse some of his frustration from his mind. Pull yourself together, Byron, or you'll lose her forever. He rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door. “Lana, please open the door and give me a second to explain.”

The door cracked open. “The clock's ticking.”

The bright lights of the vanity caught the glittering drops of moisture in the corners of her eyes, and guilt sat on his shoulders like a barbell with too much weight on it. “Dammit, I didn't mean to make you cry.”

Her hand swiped her eyes. “Who said I was crying?”

So this was the woman some unseen hand had chosen for him. Strong, beautiful, infuriatingly stubborn, but capable of turning him into mush. Instead of grabbing him by the nuts, she had him by the heartstrings. “If I appeared worried, it's only because I've never felt this way about someone before. It hit me with the force of a tidal wave, and I'm still trying to get my feet back under me before I get carried out to sea. I've tried to get you out of my mind, but every time I see you, the pull becomes more intense.”

The door opened wider. Her lips parted and her face softened. Maybe she did understand what he was going through. Maybe she had experienced the same thing. “So you're scared of getting hurt?”

“A little. I mean, you kill vampires for a living. What chance does a guy like me have against you?” She smiled in sync with him and even chuckled at his joke. “But in truth, I'm more worried about hurting you.”

She leaned against the doorjamb so that her naked body struck an unconsciously sultry pose—one that had all the blood rushing from his head to his cock. “I'm not as fragile as you think, Byron.”

He closed the space between them and inhaled her scent. His heart raced. “Would you be angry with me if I handled you with care anyway?”

“Maybe. I might be more upset if you held back on me at certain times.” She pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss. “But thank you for trying to look out for me.”

She'd forgiven him. A combination of relief and desire coursed through his veins. He stumbled forward to kiss her again but ran into a closing door.

“Do you mind if I take a shower before I go?”

Her question served as a splash of icy water to his face. Whatever magic the moment before had conjured up vanished. “Um, sure, go ahead.”

The sound of running water filled the silence from the other side.

What the fuck just happened? Hot one second, cold the next. Byron flopped on the bed and bathed in the harmonious smells of their lovemaking instead of trying to figure her out. Last night had almost seemed too easy. He'd known exactly how to touch her, how to kiss her, how to stroke her until she cried his name out in ecstasy. Today brought a whole different set of challenges that left him hard, frustrated and eager for more. He'd had blue balls before, but she caused her own level of physical ache.

Just tell her and get it over with. Why torment yourself any longer than you have to?

He leapt from the bed. The bathroom door remained unlocked, much to his surprise. Steam coated the mirrors and fogged the air. On the other side of the glass door, Lana's soap-covered body called to him like a siren's song. His mouth went dry.

It took several seconds before his hoarse voice managed to croak, “Care if I join you?”

She stuck her head out the door. “What took you so long?”

His cock stiffened when he realized she'd been inviting him in the whole time. The beast inside urged him forward, despite the small set of warning bells that went off in his head. He could control himself, couldn't he?

The warm water pelted his skin but did little to lessen his pounding pulse. He wrapped his arms around her waist so his erection pressed into her full buttocks and bent his head down to press his lips against her shoulder. The slight taste of soap lingered on her skin.

Lana gasped at his touch and then melted against him. Her hands gripped his hips while she wiggled her ass. Now it was his turn to suck the air in through his teeth. What kind of game of seduction were they playing? He slipped his fingers into her folds and rubbed her clit. She moaned and released him, now needing her hands to support her body as she pressed them against the tile.

He watched in a trance as her body writhed in pleasure. Her moans, pants and cries grew louder every time he increased his pressure or varied the tempo of his touch. With one arm around her waist to keep her on her feet, he adjusted his other hand so he could explore the depths of her pussy with two fingers while his thumb still stimulated her swollen nub. He closed his eyes and imagined how wonderful it would feel to have his cock replace his fingers.

“Byron, I'm gonna come, and I don't know if I'll be able to—” Her words halted as a strangled cry ripped from her throat and the walls of her sex clamped around his fingers in rhythmic waves. She slumped forward, lost in her orgasm.

He stopped and held her close to him, enjoying her soft curves and the heat of her body. Making her come helped ease some of his pent-up lust. Once her body stopped trembling, he turned her around and kissed her forehead. “Enjoy that?”

“Do you even need me to answer that ridiculous question?”

He laughed softly. Her sarcasm was growing on him, as was everything else about her.

“What about you?”

Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, and he bit back a moan. His own needs surged forward, and the wolf inside growled. He wanted her so badly, it took every ounce of self-control not to ram into her right then and there. “No more condoms, remember?”

“That doesn't mean I can't finish what I started last night.”

Before he could protest, she sank to her knees. Her lips enveloped his head, and it was his turn to use the tile wall for support. Dear God, the things this woman could do with her tongue. It coiled around the length of his shaft as she took him deeper and deeper, all the way to the back of her throat. She sucked her cheeks in, increasing her suction, and began to bob her head back and forth with her tongue continuing its tantalizing dance.

Her hand cupped his balls as she practiced her artful fellatio, such a soothing contrast to the way she occasionally grazed her teeth along his cock. Tension mounted deep within him, and he grew unsatisfied with her teasing. He began to thrust his hips forward, taking over the speed and depth of her strokes.

He expected her to pull away, spittin' mad for him seizing control, but instead her throat relaxed, taking him in even deeper. Her moans vibrated along his shaft and added a new dimension to the act. His balls tightened. Her hot mouth felt like heaven.

Lana lifted her eyes and met his. Amusement glowed from them. She knew he was sitting on the precipice of an orgasm and she increased the flicks of her tongue.

That's when the wolf inside seized control of him. Unsatisfied with simply fucking her mouth, no matter how great it felt, it demanded more. It wanted to mate with her without any barriers.

He reached down and pulled her up by her hair. The man inside watched helplessly as he smothered her shocked gasp with his mouth and kissed her until she whimpered. His hands grabbed her ass and lifted her up to the right height so he could plunge his cock into her swollen, wet cunt.

If the need hadn't been so urgent, he would have drawn things out, relishing each stroke. But the wolf refused to budge an inch. He thrust into her over and over again with such force, he almost cracked the tiles.

Lana rolled her head back and clung to him with her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Instead of screaming and begging him to stop, she tilted his head toward the tight pink buds of her nipples. He took one breast into this mouth, teasing the taut peak with his tongue until her breath hitched. Her frantic whispers for him to continue urged him on.

He could fuck her all day long like this—rough, primitive and mind-blowingly powerful. Her mouth formed a perfect O, and her body stiffened. The walls of her pussy clenched, and he followed her over the edge, coming at the same time she did. The tightening and release of her inner muscles milked the come out him, drawing out his orgasm longer than he imagined possible.

Time stood still. His consciousness welded with hers like an out-of-body experience. They became joined in more than just the physical sense. Their pulses pounded as one, and their souls seemed to open themselves up like a book. He saw glimpses of pain and loneliness in her past, fear for the future, but most importantly, a light brighter than the sun. It surrounded him, engulfing him with her love. And he knew she felt the same from him.

He should have been terrified, knowing how exposed he became to her at that moment. Instead, he felt freer than he had in years. They were now mated, bonded for life to each other, and there was no turning back.

The light retreated, and the cold water of the shower prickled his skin. Her legs still cinched his waist, and her breasts bobbed up and down with each ragged breath. Despite losing control, her skin remained unbitten.

He kissed her plump lips, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Don't be.” She grinned and kissed him back, her fingers threading through his wet hair.

His legs wobbled like Jell-O. How could he still want more from her when he could barely muster the strength to stand?

She unwrapped her long legs and cradled his face in her hands. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but she hesitated and chewed on her bottom lip instead.

He understood how she felt. After that intense encounter, words seemed a little flimsy. Only one more step remained to complete the mating process, but he was willing to wait for that. First he needed to tell her what he was before he asked her to change. The thought chilled him to the bone and brought him back to his sobering reality.

“Let's get out of the shower before we turn into popsicles.”

She nodded and cuddled next to him. Her taut nipples brushed against his chest, and he resisted the urge to pull them into his mouth and bathe them with his tongue. Would he ever be able to think straight when she was near him?

He turned off the water, draped a towel over her shoulders and led her back to bed. Perhaps he wouldn't make love to her again, but he could at least hold her in his arms until she stopped shivering. There would be plenty more nights for them to spend together.

CHAPTER 9

The phone rang and rang, but Espe didn't pick up on the other end. Lana frowned. Weren't all teenagers supposed to be addicted to their iPhones or whatever the cell phone du jour was? Maybe they'd forgotten how to actually talk on a phone. She hung up and typed out a text message instead, asking her mentee if she'd filed a report to the Foundation when she got home.

The sink turned off in the bathroom, and the song Byron had been crooning became clearer without the interference of the running water. The rich tenor of his voice almost melted the ice walls she'd managed to put back into place around her heart after he'd ducked in there to shave. Damn, the man could sing. Images of him serenading her in bed flashed through her mind.

She shook off the creeping desire. She needed to think clearly now, not hop back into bed with him. As it was, she already needed to make a side trip to Walgreens later today to pick up some emergency contraception. Her rational self was still lecturing her on her recklessness in the shower, but it had felt so good to be fucked like that. She'd never pictured herself to be the kind who liked it rough. Next thing she knew, she'd be asking him to chain her to the wall, blindfold her and incorporate a whip into their foreplay. She shivered in delight at the thought of it.

Then her stomach sank. No, there wouldn't be a next time. The Foundation frowned on relationships, and she could easily become addicted to Byron if she continued to indulge in his lovemaking. She'd have to be happy with last night and this morning. She'd have to tell him to leave her alone, to stop following her, to not tempt her…

He stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel around his lean hips, and pure lust grabbed a hold of her mind. While the space between her legs grew wet, her mouth went dry. Her pulse pounded through her veins. Dear God, this must be how a heroin addict feels when they start to go through withdrawal.

The corner of his mouth rose in a cocky half smile as if he knew exactly where her thoughts were headed. “Are you sure you have to leave?”

She licked her lips and forced herself to look away from him. Outside, the low afternoon sun glittered orange off the hundreds of windows on the Strip. “Yeah, I need to get home, change and get back to work. Besides, Espe's not answering her phone and I'm a bit worried about her.”

“Why?”

Material rustled behind her, and she stole a quick peek at his chiseled ass before he pulled up his jeans. She bit her bottom lip to keep from whistling in appreciation. “Um, she's kinda new to the area.”

“So she hasn't been your roommate long?”

“Nope. She's been in Vegas for literally two days.”

“Family?”

Lana laughed and played with the dirty dishes leftover from the lunch they'd ordered through room service an hour ago. “Not exactly. She works for the same employer I do, and she was sent here to learn a few things from me before she goes solo.”

“Ah, she's the Padawan and you're the Jedi.”

“Something like that.” Just please don't let her go over to the dark side. She's already enough trouble as it is.

His arms wrapped around her waist, and his breath tickled the nape of her neck. “I suppose we should go, then, before it gets dark.”

If she was the swooning-type, she would've melted right there in his arms. Luckily, she wasn't. She forced the no-nonsense huntress up to the surface. “Exactly.”

His arms tensed like the one word hit him with the force of a punch. She fought the urge to reassure him. In order to leave him, she had to be tough. Cold. Lonely for the rest of her life. Resentment boiled up inside her. This wasn't fucking fair! Maybe if she could train Espe to take her place, she could retire and live a normal life.

Aw, who the hell am I kidding? The vampires here know my face. Retired or not, they'd still hunt me.

He released her. “Then let's go. I'll give you a ride home.”

“That's unnecessary.”

“Can you at least let me play the gentleman for once?”

She remembered the feral glow in his hazel eyes as he came inside the shower. Nothing gentlemanly there. Just pure primal lust, followed by something she couldn't name. It had felt warm, bright, so inviting that she'd given in to it. Could that be what falling in love felt like?

Her knees threatened to give out from under her now in the same way they had earlier. “Maybe I like bad boys,” she said as he steadied her.

He chuckled and kissed her temple. “You definitely have me playing both parts. When we're in the bedroom, I want to fuck you like an animal, but everywhere else, I want to treat you like a princess.”

Can he make this any harder than it already is? Her eyes stung, and she wrenched away from him before the tears spilled over. “Please, I need to get home.”

His sigh made her heart ache. Yep, somewhere during the last twenty-four hours, she'd crossed the line and fallen hook, line and sinker for him.

“All right, let's go.”

The ride downstairs just added to the tension between them. They stood apart, not daring to utter one word. Lana used the silence to rehearse her carefully planned speech. Last night was great, but I can't get involved. It's too dangerous for you. I'd hate to see you get hurt, yadda, yadda, yadda. All flimsy excuses.

He waited until they were in his Jeep before he asked, “What's bothering you?”

Bile rose into her throat. Was it time for the brush-off already? “Last night was probably the best night I've ever had.”

“But?” He packed a lot of anger and tension into that one syllable, and she winced.

“But we can't continue to do this. My job forbids me to get involved with people like you, and—”

“People like me, huh?” He swerved the car to the right. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Byron, you're a civilian. You're an easy target if those bloodsuckers want to get to me.” She closed her eyes and gripped the “Oh, shit” handle for dear life. Her voice shook as she added, “I don't want to see you get hurt.”

His snort punctuated another sharp turn. “So that's what you think of me? That I'm some helpless civilian?”

“Yes.” Her stomach lurched. Mr. Toad's Wild Ride seemed like a jaunt through the country compared to Byron's driving. As soon as he skidded to a stop in front of her building, she jumped out of the car, grateful to feel solid ground under her feet again. Her platform heels clunked against the pavement as she dashed for the front doors.

“Then you have no idea what I am?” he asked, hot on her heels.

“Well, you're certainly not Superman.” She hit the elevator button for her floor, but he slipped through the doors before they closed. Why the hell was he following her? Had she just slept with some psycho?

“Thank God. I don't do tights.” He offered her a half smile at his attempt at a joke. When she didn't laugh, he ran his fingers through his hair and paced the small elevator car. “But, seriously, I'm not as helpless as you think.”

The doors opened on her floor and she bolted out. Why was he being so stubborn? Did she have to spell it out for him? She jerked to a stop in front of her door. “Stop this, Byron. I can't get involved with you.”

Anguish flashed across his face, followed by fear. “Lana, please, don't push me away. You have no idea what that could do to me.”

His pain washed over her, and a sob choked her throat. Her will wavered between drafting her letter of resignation to the Foundation and kicking him in the nuts to convince him to leave her alone. She fumbled with her keys to unlock her door.

He grabbed her wrist before she could insert it into the deadbolt. “Please, just give me a chance. Hear me out.”

“I'm sorry,” she whispered and twisted her hand free.

When her key touched the deadbolt, her door creaked open. An icy chill filled her veins and froze her feet to the ground. Something was very wrong.

Byron took a deep breath and wrinkled his nose as if he'd just smelled the contents of a dumpster. “Vampires,” he muttered and pushed her behind him. He reached into his blazer for his gun.

Her heart slammed against her chest. What were bloodsuckers doing out in daylight? She grabbed her stake from her purse and followed him into her condo.

They'd trashed the place. Furniture overturned, papers scattered, the whole nine yards. Those vampires were going to pay for this mess when she caught them. She pushed her anger aside so she could tune into her sixth sense. No tingling on the back of her neck. Nothing abnormal. No sign of any vampires here now, although it was obvious they'd been in here earlier. A bitter taste filled her mouth as she surveyed the damage. Not another trap.

Byron appeared from her bedroom and tucked his gun back into his holster. “The place is clear.”

“I know.” Then a new wave of fear assaulted her. “Espe?”

“No sign of her.”

She sank onto the edge of her coffee table. A curse slipped from her lips, and cold fear stopped her heart. She'd given in to temptation for one night, and now her mentee had to pay for it. Nausea rolled in her stomach.

Her phone beeped three times, indicating that she had a new text message. She flipped it open, praying Espe had decided to go back and party with those boys at Luxor instead of coming back here.

Espe can't come to the phone right now. She's rather tied up at the moment.

Lana gritted her teeth and typed back. Who the fuck are you, and where is she?

A few seconds later, her phone beeped again. The one word that appeared on the screen caused the edges of her vision to turn black.

Klaus.

CHAPTER 10

Lana clutched the edge of the table and swallowed the puke back. That son of a bitch has Espe, and God only knows what he's done to her.

“What is it?”

“The vampires took Espe hostage.”

A four-letter word hissed from his lips as he spun on his heel and paced the room. “Any idea where they took her?”

She shook her head. “I'm sure he'll tell me soon, though.”

“It's another trap.”

“I know.” She rummaged through the debris for her laptop but couldn't find it. Dammit. She hated having to call the Foundation with this news. The disappointment in Wade's voice would be like a knife twisting in her gut. “I need to make a few phone calls,” she said before she disappeared into her bedroom and shut the door.

 

***

 

Byron opened a few windows to clear the vampire stench from the room. Judging by the intensity of it, the gang must've been here for several hours. What surprised him, though, was that they hadn't left Espe a drained corpse. Highly unusual behavior for bloodsuckers, and that only added to his unease.

He needed to track them down before Lana fell into their trap. The guilt and anger on her face told him she'd fight to free her mentee, but he'd be damned if he'd let her do it alone. Time to call in the pack.

Greg answered his phone on the second ring. “Hey, Byron, how'd last night go?”

“I need you and whoever you can round up on the ranch in Vegas ASAP.”

“Uh-oh, what happened?”

“I'm organizing a little hunt.”

“Did they hurt your mate?”

The wolf inside snarled. “Not yet, but they're sure as hell trying to get to her.”

“I'll see who's here and be on the road in about ten minutes. Need more bullets?”

“What do you think?” He was about to hang up when he added, “By the way, don't tell anyone in the pack about her yet. Just tell them I might have a lead on Eddie's killer. Call me when you get into the city limits and I'll set up a rendezvous point.”

“Will do.”

He shoved the cell phone into his pocket and started trying to clean the room. If this situation had some shred of normalcy, he'd be calling the cops to come and dust the room for prints. Instead, justice fell into his hands. He planned on sticking to Lana's side like glue, whether she liked it or not. It didn't take a werewolf to smell out this trap. The only question that remained was why they wanted her.

When Lana emerged from her room half an hour later, her pale face and tense expression barely showed any of the surprise he heard in her voice. “What are you still doing here?”

“Helping you.”

That sparked her anger. Her stormy eyes flashed and her upper lip curled. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don't need your help? You're going to get yourself killed.”

“You underestimate me.”

The stress of the situation finally revealed itself in the sudden slump of her shoulders. She massaged her temples. “Byron, Espe was a trained hunter, and they got her. What makes you think you stand a chance against a gang of vampires?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I have backup on the way. They'll be here in three to four hours.”

“I have backup on the way, too, only they'll be here within the hour.”

So much for breaking her will. A new surge of color climbed up her neck into her cheeks. “Why the fuck do you feel the need to stick your nose into my business? Apparently it isn't enough to endanger your own life. No, you have to drag others into it as well.”

“Lana, all the men I invited to join us hate vampires and have a vendetta to settle with them over my uncle's death.”

“Who cares? They're still humans with nothing more than revenge on their side.”

“You're wrong about that.” He cupped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “I'm not letting you face them alone, Lana. If I have to hound your every step, I will, but I'd prefer to be treated as an equal here.”

“Byron, please, I can't bear to lose you.”

And then he saw it. All her fear, her pain, her guilt, her grief. The real motivation for her words played out on her face like a movie, but only in fast-forward. She'd lost someone she cared about to a vampire.

He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. “I'm harder to get rid of than you think.”

He should tell her the truth about what he was, about the pack, about why he'd never in his right mind leave her. It was sitting on the tip of his tongue when her phone rang.

She broke free from his embrace and rushed to answer it. “Hello?” The color drained from her cheeks. She turned on the speakerphone and brought her finger up to her lips.

A rich, German-accented voice filled the room. The same one he'd heard in the voice mail on Eddie's phone. “How are you this evening?”

A snarl formed in the back of Byron's throat. He'd have his vengeance tonight or die trying.

“Quit the games, Klaus, and tell me where Espe is.”

The vampire chuckled as if she had told him a joke. “You get right to the point. I like you, Hunter.”

“I wish I could say the feeling was mutual, asshole.”

Klaus made a sound of disapproval. “Such a temper. And here I was calling you to negotiate Espe's freedom.”

“Spill it.”

“As you can see outside, it's almost sunset. I'd like to propose an exchange. You show up alone at a place of my choosing, and I let your little hunter go. You bring others with you, and she becomes more than just a delicious little snack.”

Her eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened about the phone. “What do you want with me?”

“We'll discuss that at the drop-off point. Now, are you willing to agree to my terms?”

“The Foundation doesn't negotiate with bloodsuckers.”

“That's what they say, but you know as well as I do that rules are broken all the time.”

She turned to him and silently asked for his advice. He crossed his arms and nodded. It wouldn't hurt to play along for now. Anything to get him closer to Eddie's killer.

“Fine. Where's the drop-off point?”

“I'll have a limo parked in front of the Mardi Gras in two hours. Remember, come alone, or Espe becomes my new plaything.”

The line went dead, and a shiver rippled through her body. She threw the phone at the couch in disgust. “God, I can't believe I just agreed to this.”

He massaged the knots in her shoulders. “You did what you had to do to protect Espe. No one will fault you for that.”

“But I'll be walking into his trap before my reinforcements get into town.”

“That's why I'm glad I called the rest of the pack in.”

Her shoulders tensed. “The pack?”

Now it was his phone that interrupted the conversation. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered.

Greg's voice filled the airwaves. “We're almost there. Where's the rendezvous point?”

Byron checked his watch. “Shit, you must've been going at least ninety miles per hour.”

His friend laughed. “Try over a hundred. When the Alpha calls, the pack responds.”

“I'm not the Alpha yet.” He glanced over at Lana to see if she'd overheard him. The downward angle of the corners of her mouth told him she had.

“Speak for yourself. So, are you gonna give me an address, or are we going to have to circle the city all night?”

He rattled off Lana's address and clicked the phone closed. “They'll be here in a few minutes.”

“Your `pack'?”

“Yes, my pack.”

She increased the gulf between them and crossed her arms. “I'm not letting anyone in here until I get an explanation.”

So, she would finally learn the truth, although not in the way he wanted to tell her. Maybe after dinner or a few glasses of wine—something to lessen the initial shock. Now she was forcing him to show his hand.

He took a deep breath and decided the simplest explanation was the best. “I'm a werewolf.”

CHAPTER 11

Lana couldn't decide if she should laugh or lock herself in her bedroom. “A werewolf? You're joking, right?”

He shook his head with the soberness of a funeral-parlor director.

Her throat tightened, and a half laugh seemed to be the only thing that opened it up. The Foundation dealt with all kinds of paranormal creatures, but she didn't remember hearing about how to deal with werewolves at any point during her training. In fact, they weren't even mentioned. For all she knew, Byron suffered from delusions of grandeur.

She lifted her chin and fought to keep the hysteria from rising in her voice. “Prove it to me, then. Change into a wolf.”

“I can't. It's not the full moon. Only the strongest of werewolves can shift at other times of the month.”

God, maybe he really is a nutcase. Only someone like that would want to sleep with me. “Listen, if this is just some attempt to prove to me that you're capable of hunting vampires—”

He seized her shoulders and shook her a couple of times until she stared into his face. The strength of his grasp startled her, but not as much as the eerie yellow glow that radiated from his eyes. A low growl rumbled from his chest, and her heart skipped a beat. Whatever he was, he wasn't human. “Does this convince you?”

She licked her lips, unsure what to say. “Maybe.”

He shoved her away, turned on his heel and ran his fingers through his hair. “I should have known you'd be this stubborn when I told you the truth. Those scars on my chest—they came from a werewolf attack. The man I call my uncle took me into his pack when my own family wanted nothing to do with me. He had a habit of doing that. You know, rescuing newly turned and abandoned werewolves. We joked that we were his own collection of Lost Boys.”

The way his voice cracked as he told her about his past made her chest tighten and her eyes burn. Could he actually be telling her the truth? “How old were you?”

“Almost eight. I was the youngest, by far. Most of the guys come into the pack somewhere in their teens. I mean, puberty is bad enough, but when you have to deal with becoming a monster once every month…”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “At least you have some idea of how girls feel when we're PMSing.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. His mouth hung open at her lighthearted attempt to make a joke. “Lana, I'm being serious here.”

“So am I. You've never seen me attack a carton of Ben and Jerry's.” She stepped forward and grazed his hand with her own. “I want to believe you.”

“But you don't.” He sighed and threaded their fingers together. “At least you're not running away screaming.”

“You haven't given me a reason to run.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

A knock at the door ended their conversation, much to her relief. She'd ask the Foundation about the existence of werewolves later. Until then, she had to convince Byron and his “pack” to stay away from the vampires.

He opened the door and at least a dozen men poured into her tiny condo. He greeted them all by name and thanked them for coming. As far as she could tell, they all looked like normal guys, varying in age from their late teens to their forties. When the steady stream dried up, he frowned. “Where's Alan?”

The smallest guy adjusted his glasses. “He, um, refused to come.”

A scowl darkened Byron's face. “Figures. But now that the rest of you are here, let's form a game plan. Lana here is a vampire hunter.”

A dozen heads turned to her, and her muscles stiffened. She hated being the center of attention, and she especially hated people knowing her occupation. If the Foundation knew about this, they'd send her packing to Little Rock or Bozeman or some other hick town. She gave them an awkward wave.

“Her partner, Espe, has been kidnapped by a vampire named Klaus. He's the same son of a bitch who's responsible for Eddie's murder, right down to the German accent.”

A collective growl rippled through the room and caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She noticed a faint yellow glow in their eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Maybe he was telling the truth.

“He's setting a trap for her at the Mardi Gras, but how many of you think that yellow bloodsucker will be there in person?” A few men snickered. “Exactly. What I'd like to do is send some of you down there to deal with his underlings while the rest of us try and catch his scent and track him down.”

“Yeah, I noticed the stench when I arrived,” the smallest one said. His cheeks grew slightly pink as he turned to her. “Not that I was referring to you, Lana. It's just that vampires have a unique smell.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “You, on the other hand, smell quite nice actually.”

“Greg, stop it right now.” The low snarl in Byron's voice left little room for argument.

“Of course. You're the boss.”

So that's how it was. They weren't just members of his pack, they were his pack. He led, and they followed. No wonder his tone became harsh and no-nonsense when he spoke to them.

“So how do you want to divide us up, Byron?” one of the older members of the pack asked.

“You know your strengths. I want the better fighters to stake out the Mardi Gras. Klaus said he'd send a limo over there in about an hour and a half. You'll know it by the smell.” A few more snickers traveled around the room. “Take some of Greg's wooden-tipped bullets with you. Now that we know they work, there's no need to bloody ourselves with hand-to-hand combat.”

“But what if we want to rip their heads off?” another asked.

Instead of discouraging the idea, Byron just grinned. “Just remember you'll be in a public place. Eddie always preached about the importance of discretion.”

A few of the men shuffled on their feet and cast uncomfortable glances in her direction.

“Don't worry about her. She's a vampire hunter. She's used to dealing with things most normal people refuse to believe exist.” He caught her gaze in a challenge as if to say, “Are you going to believe me now?”

One side of her mouth rose higher than the other, creating what she'd heard referred to as her token “You're full of it” smile.

“As for the rest of you, I need the best trackers to come with me. Go into Espe's room, get a hold of her scent, and let's find her before that Klaus asshole makes her lunch.”

The men sprang into action. Four of them slipped into the bedroom he pointed to and started sniffing Espe's pillows. The rest opened the boxes Greg set out on the table and began loading their guns. She stepped forward to stop them before they got themselves all killed, but Byron caught her and pushed her back into her bedroom.

“No, Lana, let them do it.”

“But—”

“No `buts'. When the vampires murdered Eddie, they broke the treaty.”

Her hands curled into fists. “You had a fucking treaty with vampires?”

“Not me. Eddie formed it years ago with the local vampires before I even joined the pack. Basically, they agreed to stay away from our ranch, and we agreed not to hunt them. You see, you're not the only one who thinks the world would be a better place without bloodsuckers.”

“But why the hell did he agree to it?”

“Because, I told you, most of the werewolves Eddie took in were young and confused. He did it to protect us while he taught us what it meant to be a werewolf and how to handle our new condition. If he didn't, the vampires probably would have wiped us out years ago.”

She peered out into the main room at the grim faces of the men preparing for battle. The pack's loyalty to one man spoke of his influence over them. No wonder Byron seemed so determined to have his revenge. “Eddie must have been one helluva man.”

Sadness darkened his eyes. “He was. I only hope I can be half the man he was.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. The more she knew about Byron, the more her heart ached for him. She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss his pain away. How could she have come to care so much for someone she'd only met three days ago? “Where do I fit into your plan?”

“You stay here. Let us deal with him.”

Her joints locked into place. “Not a chance, wolf-boy. This was the Foundation's fight long before it was yours, and Klaus is playing games with me now, not you. I'm the one he wants.”

“Which is exactly why you're going to wait in your room until we kill him.”

“Bullshit.” She shoved him aside and opened the mini-arsenal in her closet. She grabbed a custom-made holster for her stake and strapped it to her thigh. “I'm a trained vampire hunter. This is what I do for a living.”

“You're also my mate, and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to you.” As soon as he said the words, he looked like he wanted to puke.

“Your mate?”

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and a low hiss blew through his teeth. “I'll explain later.”

“Just because we slept together doesn't make me your property.” She dug out her small crossbow and snatched a bundle of bolts for it.

“It's more than that.”

“Then what?”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her. At first, he seemed to be trying to bend her to his will, pillaging her mouth with his tongue. But then, something changed. His kiss softened, pleading with her to accept him with each gentle twist of his tongue.

She eased into him and allowed the heat to flow through her body. Ever since last night, she knew something had changed between them, but it terrified her to admit it. She could fall in love with him so easily. It felt like he'd been made especially for her, and his absence would leave an empty void in her soul. All the more reason not to let him continue on this suicide mission.

“Byron, we—” Greg's voice came from the doorway and they jumped apart, ending the kiss far sooner than she would've liked. “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“It's okay.” Byron pressed his lips against her cheek one more time before devoting his full attention to his friend. “Everyone ready?”

“Yeah. Pete even thinks he may have a lead on Espe's scent.”

“Then let's go.”

Lana slung the crossbow over her shoulder and tucked the bolts into a specially designed harness that she could strap onto her arm. “I'm coming with you.”

“No, you're staying.” He practically growled at her, and she caught the flash in his eyes.

He might lead the pack, but she wasn't a member of it. “Get used to disappointment.”

CHAPTER 12

Byron's Jeep crawled through the streets of South Las Vegas. His theory about Klaus setting a trap at the Mardi Gras seemed dead-on so far.

Behind him, Pete stood on the backseat while holding on to the roll bar and sniffing the air. “Turn left.”

He did, and a few tendrils of Espe's scent tickled his nose. “We're getting closer,” he whispered to Lana.

She sat next to him and flexed her fingers around her mini-crossbow. Why she didn't grab a gun and some of Greg's bullets, he didn't understand. When he questioned her about it, she replied that she preferred the old ways.

“I can smell her now, too,” Greg added from the backseat. “She's still alive.”

“How do you know?” The steely edge in Lana's voice matched the sharp point on the bolts in her holster.

“Dead humans smell different than live ones.”

“Do I smell?”

“You have your own unique scent,” Byron answered. One that still nearly drives me blind with lust. He worried he might not be able to concentrate with her nearby, especially now that they'd bonded. He had tried to explain it to her earlier, but quickly realized that it could wait. No need to add to her worries or her guilt. “Why do you ask?”

“I overheard one of the vampires say they couldn't smell me the other night.”

He glanced up in the rearview mirror at Greg. His friend shrugged as if to say he'd never heard anything about that. “If that's the case, then maybe they won't know you're coming.”

“But they can smell you, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“Stop,” Pete hissed. He lifted his nose to the air, and his eyes widened. “Turn off your lights and hide.”

A wave of vampire stench rolled toward them like a tsunami. Pete and Greg disappeared into an alley. Byron turned off the engine and grabbed Lana's wrist a second later, pulling her after them. From the intensity of it, the bloodsuckers outnumbered the four of them at three to one. A limo with dark tinted windows drove by them, followed by two more cars with the same blackened glass. Klaus's trap.

“Pete, is she with them?” Byron pointed at the convoy.

Pete shook his head. “Her scent's coming from the opposite direction.”

“Good. Let's keep moving.” He pulled out his phone and sent a group text message to the rest of the pack, informing them of the number of vampires heading their way. “Did you inform your employer of the trap?”

She shook her head. “Maybe I should, just so there'll be a few hunters there.”

Greg snorted. “And we're not hunters?”

“You're not trained.”

The other two werewolves snickered at her, and Byron intervened before she dug herself deeper into a hole. “Lana, we hunt by instinct. No one needs to train us, and in case you haven't noticed, we come equipped with a few extra perks like our sense of smell.”

“Not to mention strength, great night vision and the ability to heal faster than humans,” Greg added.

She lifted one eyebrow as she examined his friend, her obvious disbelief evident on her face. To the outsider, Greg resembled your typical nerd. He stood an inch or two shorter than Lana and had arms and legs that looked like they could be snapped as easily as twigs. But for what he lacked in an intimidating appearance, he made up for by speed and cunning. Byron had raced him across the ranch several times and lost—miserably so, at that. If he could choose anyone to be his second-in-command, it would be Greg.

“Fine, I'll send Wade a message.” She ducked into a shadow and pulled out her cell.

“And who's Wade?” Greg whispered.

The wolf inside bared his teeth, but Byron dismissed it. “Probably her boss.”

“Are you so sure?”

He studied the emotionless way she typed in the message. When she lifted her eyes and saw him watching her, the corners of her mouth rose into a slight smile. A calm breeze of reassurance bathed him. She was his, and he had no reason to feel jealous at all. “I'm sure.”

Almost a whole block ahead of them, Pete waved to get their attention. He pointed to a run-down building across the street.

Byron grabbed Lana's hand and pulled her after him. He wasn't going to let her leave his side if he had anything to say about it. “In there?”

Pete nodded. “Espe's scent is pouring out of that place once you get past all the vampire stench. Besides, with all the boarded-up windows, it looks like someplace they'd infest.”

Greg leaned forward and sniffed. “Yeah, I can barely smell her there. But there's something else. I can't put my finger on it, though.”

Lana started to cross the street, but Byron tugged her back into the shadows. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Klaus has already sent his crew to spring the trap. Once they realize I'm not going to show, they'll call him, and Espe's toast.”

“Toast? I thought she'd be served more like a fine wine.”

“Shut up, Greg.” Byron took his time trying to decipher the different scents coming from the house. “I'm thinking there's at least four, maybe up to six vampires in there. What do you think, Pete?”

“I smell six and a human. But like Greg said, there's something off about one of the scents.”

He reached for his gun and checked the number of bullets in his clips. The other two did the same thing while Lana slid one of her bolts into her crossbow. “So, do you want to approach this with our guns blazing?”

Pete grinned but Greg shook his head. “We have a limited amount of ammo, and we're outnumbered. Let me scout the place out first.”

“Call if you get into trouble.”

“Call nothing. You'll hear my gun.” His friend dashed across the street. The shadows of the night swallowed him up, and silence filled the air.

Byron stood behind Lana, drinking in her scent and trying to ignore the way his stomach lurched when he thought of her entering the building. He brushed her hair to the side and whispered in her ear, “Stay close to me, Lana. It's you he's after, and I don't want him to have a chance to hurt you.”

She covered his free hand with her own. “No guarantees, Byron. Just try not to get in my way.”

He almost laughed. His beautiful, headstrong mate would need a few lessons in obedience when all this was over, especially if she joined the pack, but he looked forward to teaching her. Hopefully she'd be by his side for many more nights to come.

His fear chilled his happy thoughts. First, they needed to kill a horde of vampires. With the threat of death looming over them, he pressed his lips to her neck and found the courage to say, “I love you, Lana.”

Her gasp drew Pete's attention. “What is it?”

Before Byron could tell him it was nothing, two shots rang out from across the street. The wolf inside howled. His instincts took over, and he bolted for the building.

CHAPTER 13

Lana hesitated for a moment, letting the tingle on the back of her neck take over and release her inner huntress. Her years of training all came down to this moment, when it was kill or be killed. She followed Byron and Pete around the house.

Greg stood outside the back door with his gun pointed at two piles of dust by his feet. “What took you so long?”

“You know us old guys move a bit slower,” Pete replied.

Byron's face hardened as he cocked his gun. “Move carefully. They know we're here.”

The harsh tone of his voice matched the stiff set of his shoulders. In front of his pack, he was all business, a man none of them questioned. She wondered if they'd ever caught a glimpse of his vulnerable side like she had this morning. His last words to her before he switched into commander mode echoed in her mind.

He loved her?

A jolt of electricity raced down her spine as soon as she entered the house, and she spun around just in time to see a figure rush out of the darkness toward them. She fired her crossbow before the boys could aim their guns, resulting in another pile of dust. She frowned. “Another newborn.”

Byron cocked an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“A newly made vampire.” She kicked the pile of dust and reloaded her crossbow. “It's strange that an old one like Klaus would surround himself with them.”

“Maybe he sent the more experienced ones to the casino.”

“Maybe.” But something continued to nag her mind. This had all the makings of a trap, and her gut told her she was falling right into it.

“Remember, rescue Espe first, and then deal with the bloodsuckers.” Once the two men nodded, Byron crept silently ahead through the dust-covered kitchen.

Pete's loud sniffing filled the silence. He must be the pack's designated bloodhound. He even looked the part with his large, droopy eyes. He paused in front of a closed door and pointed to it.

They gathered around it, and Byron counted to three on his fingers before he kicked the door in.

Four vampires rushed them with their fangs bared and the feeding frenzy alight in their eyes. One managed to knock Greg across the room, and another wrestled Pete for his gun. Byron chased one to the opposite side, aiming his gun at the blurred figure that raced from wall to wall. As the last to enter the room, Lana battled the slowest in the group, easily dodging her attacker. Through the chaos, she noticed no vampires who matched Klaus's description. All four fought like relative newborns, perhaps only a few months old.

“I thought you said you only smelled six of them.” Greg grunted while he tried to keep the vampire on top of him from biting his neck.

“I've been known to be wrong from time to time.” Pete jerked his gun free and unloaded two bullets into the vampire's chest.

“Stop arguing and kill them.” Byron's split second of distraction resulted in a fist to his jaw. The blow knocked him into a wall, splintered the wood frame into kindling.

Her breath caught. Was he hurt? His limbs twitched, and a second later, he jumped back to his feet. The boom of gunshots exploded in her ears, followed by the whistle of bullets passing by. That's the problem with guns—it's too easy to hit your friends by mistake.

A set of nails raked across her back when she whirled around to avoid her attacker once again. Her jaw tightened. Time to finish this bitch. She lifted her crossbow and squeezed the trigger in one fluid motion. The bolt launched into the air and disappeared into the vampire's chest. The bloodsucker froze and crumbled into dust.

“Impressive, mein Schätzchen,” a smooth voice whispered in her mind. “Now I know why Sergei sent me to find you. You are a born hunter.”

A shadowy figure waited at the top of the stairs along the far wall of the room, appearing content to watch the fighting below without soiling his hands. Her skin crawled when she spotted him. Klaus.

She looked over her shoulder at the rest of her team. Byron was still trying to pin down his speedy assailant while Pete was prying the other vampire off Greg. They could handle those two without her while she searched for Espe. She made a break for the stairs.

The shadow blurred down the hall into a bedroom. So he wants to play cat and mouse, huh? She reloaded her crossbow and inched closer, focusing all her senses on her prey.

The moment she stuck her head into the room, a frantic cry caught her attention. Espe sat bound and gagged in a chair in a nearby corner. Dried blood caked her neck and stained her shirt.

Her mentee had been someone's snack. Anger scorched Lana's veins.

Espe's eyes widened. She seemed desperate to say something, but the dirty piece of cloth in her mouth muffled her words.

The door slammed shut behind her. “I expected better from you, Hunter.”

Lana whipped around and fired. A soft grunt told her she'd hit him, but he didn't turn to dust. Something moved through the room quicker than she could follow and slammed into her hand. Pain raced up her arm into her shoulder. Her crossbow skidded to a stop against the opposite wall.

She grabbed her stake and retreated to Espe. No one was going to lay a hand on the younger woman without going through her first. “What do you want, Klaus?”

The movement stopped and a man's figure materialized in the darkness. From what she could see, he looked like a Nazi poster boy with his Aryan coloring and features. Only the centuries-old light in his eyes betrayed his true age. “I thought I already made that clear, Hunter. And since you failed to follow my instructions, your little apprentice will pay for it.”

Lana braced her feet and lowered her shoulder. When he lunged for Espe, she knocked him to the side. More waves of pain jarred her body, but she managed to stay on her feet. “You'll be dust before you touch her again.”

He grinned so the single beam of light that entered the room through a crack in the plywood glittered off his fangs. “I think not.”

She managed to raise her stake before he tackled her into the wall with the force of an NFL linebacker. She blindly stabbed him with her stake, drawing a hiss. The injury she inflicted caused him to loosen his grip enough for her to roll out of his way. Her lungs burned for air. Black stars exploded on the edges of her vision, but she prepared for the next strike. She was a hunter, and she refused to go out with a whimper.

Klaus straightened his posture and wiped a trickle of blood off his face. A snarl curled his upper lip, exposing more of his fangs. “You are not making this easy.”

“What did you expect, you bratwurst-sucking piece of shit? For me to swoon and surrender?”

A volley of gunshots exploded from outside the room. Lana flinched and Klaus attacked. She whipped her leg around, hoping to deliver a solid kick to his face. Instead, he caught it and snapped her femur like a pretzel stick.

Waves of nausea pounded her stomach and forced bile up into her throat. Her other leg collapsed from under her. The room spun in circles. A sliver of fear worked its way into her heart. Years of hunting, and she couldn't even handle one vampire. If she failed, what would happen to Espe and Byron? Would they pay the price for her carelessness?

He threw her across the room and stood over her like a giant. “You are making this harder than it needs to be, mein Schätzchen. I have no intention of letting you go.”

Her sides heaved from her pants. Her heart hammered so hard, it felt like it was trying to break her ribs. The sounds of scuffling on the other side of the door told her Byron would be here soon. She needed to find out what Klaus wanted, even if Espe had to be the one to report it to the Foundation. “What the fuck do you want with me?” she wheezed out.

He knelt beside her with a look of pity on his face that made her want to smack him. “You are one of the oldest hunters in the Foundation. You know their secrets. And when I'm done turning you, you'll gladly spill them all to me.”

“Not a chance, asswipe.” She tightened her grip on her stake and aimed for his heart. Her pulse skipped a beat when he twisted at the waist. The sharpened piece of oak sank into squishy flesh, and his scream eased some of her frustration with missing his heart.

“Enough games.” He wrapped his hands around her stake arm. The sickening crunch of bone hit her before the jaw-tightening agony. Two jagged white edges protruded through her skin, rendering her arm useless.

Her bruised and broken body waved a white flag. She couldn't fight him anymore. A quiet acceptance of her fate gathered in the corners of her mind and swept through her consciousness like the blackness on the edge of her vision. She only regretted that she'd brought those she cared about into this mess. Dear God, she hated that her death would cause Byron to endure the same hell she went through when she lost Max. Please don't let him grieve like I did.

He winced as he pulled the stake from his gut and slung it across the room. At least I showed the motherfucker the definition of pain.

Something banged against the door, splintering the wood. Hope revived her. She just needed to hold out until Byron came.

Klaus yanked her up by her hair and tilted her head back until the base of her skull touched her upper back. “I was planning on being gentle when I turned you, but you've sealed your fate.” His fangs sank into her neck, filling her veins with white-hot heat.

Lana struggled against him, refusing to go quietly now. With each swallow of her blood, he tried to rip her soul from her. Resistance slipped away. A loud crash was the last thing she heard before the darkness consumed her.

 

CHAPTER 14

Byron's jaw tightened when he watched Lana bolt up the stairs alone. What the hell is she thinking? He took a step after her, but Speedy rammed into his stomach and sent him sprawling in the opposite direction.

A shot fired to his right, and a shrill cry ended abruptly as the vampire attacking Greg turned to dust. Now they had three werewolves battling one bloodsucker. His lips curled into a grin. He liked those odds.

He lifted his gun and unloaded it into the flying blur in front of him. It froze in the air like one of those high-speed camera shots, capturing the vampire's look of shock as the bullet penetrated his heart. Then he exploded into a cloud of dust.

“That was fun,” Greg said as he offered to help him up. Blood oozed down from the scratches on his friend's arms, coating his hands with sticky goo.

Byron winced as he grasped the gore. “It's not over yet.” He jumped to his feet and ran for the staircase.

Two sets of feet pounded behind him. A loud crash came from the end of the hallway. His heart pounded. Lana was in trouble.

A familiar scent caused his hackles to rise. A figure stepped out of one of the side rooms and raised a gun at them. “Going somewhere, Byron?”

“Alan, why you backstabbing son of a—”

A shot silenced Greg's threat, and he crumpled to the ground. Wet coughs rose from his body.

Pete ducked down to tend to him while Byron fought to restrain the infuriated wolf inside. “What are you doing here, Alan?”

“Sealing my position in the pack.” He aimed at Byron and fired again.

A sting ripped across his upper arm, followed by the spread of slowly searing heat. The bullet had only grazed him, but the touch of silver burned deeper than the wound. The wolf's rage threatened to seize control of him. He pulled his trigger only to get a click. Shit!

Alan laughed. “Should have reloaded.” A volley of shots exploded from his gun, sending Byron and Pete running for cover in a side room.

Byron's breath came in short pants. His best friend lay bleeding on the floor, a member of his pack had betrayed them to the bloodsuckers, and it sounded like someone was beating the crap out of his mate on the other side of the far door. All in all, a friggin' peach of a night so far. He pulled a handful of bullets from his pocket and shoved them into his empty clip.

“Greg's hit, but not badly,” Pete whispered.

“He's using silver.”

A hissed curse escaped from the other werewolf's lips. “I'm gonna fuckin' kill him.”

“Not if I get to him first.” Byron whipped around the doorway and squeezed the trigger.

Alan stumbled back and responded with his own shot, which went wide.

“You know the penalty for treachery, Alan.”

He pressed a hand against his hip. The metallic smell of blood thickened the air. “Only if there's anyone left to carry it out. I'm sure everyone else in the pack will believe me when I tell them you died in the struggle with the vampires. I knew you had something up your sleeve, so I came here to warn Klaus. I'm so glad I was still here when you arrived. Now I get the pleasure of killing you myself instead of trusting Klaus to finish you off like he did Eddie.”

Byron stared down the barrel of Alan's gun and lost control of his inner beast. His senses heightened. Everything started to move in slow motion, from the miniscule flexion of Alan's finger to the tendrils of smoke that rose from the chamber of the pistol. Several pulses pounded in his ear. Sour bile filled the back of his throat, and beads of sweat prickled his skin. He doubled over, recognizing the signs of the unavoidable shift occurring in his body.

Even though it felt like eons, his transformation took less than a second. His hands turned into paws before they hit the wooden floor, and he licked his fangs with the hunger for revenge gnawing at his gut.

Alan's eyes opened wide, and he took a few clumsy steps back before turning to run.

Byron pounced and sank his teeth into the traitor's shoulder. Bitter blood filled his mouth, bringing little satisfaction until Alan's whispered pleas for mercy filled his ears. Mercy is only for the weak, the wolf growled in his mind. He'll only destroy everything you hold dear.

His jaws clamped around Alan's throat and ripped it out. A few wet gurgles popped through the bubble of blood that appeared from his last breath. Then, his enemy grew still.

“Holy shit, Byron!”

Greg's voice soothed some of his rage. He spat the remnants of Alan's flesh from his mouth and looked at his pack-mates. A sharp feminine cry from the far bedroom stabbed his chest like a knife. “Help me get the damn door open.”

Both men bolted when the Alpha gave a command, even if he didn't speak it. As a wolf, he didn't need words. He just needed the bond of the pack to express his thoughts to them. Pete rammed the door once, and the wood splintered.

Byron's paws danced with impatience. He could smell Lana's blood and fear from the other room. Her pain called to him like a silent scream. He had to get in there before Klaus destroyed her like he had Eddie.

The door burst open just in time for him to see the vampire's fangs pierce the flawless skin of her neck. His vision turned red. He leapt over Pete and barreled straight for Klaus. The force of his blow broke the bloodsucker's seal over her vein, and Lana fell to the floor like a limp rag doll. The faint pulsations of her heart filled his ears and formed a rhythm for his attack as he snapped his jaws.

Klaus's face twisted in an animalistic snarl, and the fire in his pale eyes illuminated the darkness. He grabbed one of Byron's front legs and yanked him close enough so his needle-like fangs could reach the tender flesh of his shoulder.

A yip of pain tore from Byron's throat. He frantically twisted his body to break free and bite his attacker.

The vampire's sucking drained more than his blood. It depleted his strength and whispered thoughts of defeat in his mind. “You're too weak to save her. You've failed everyone—Eddie, Lana, Espe, the pack. Death is more merciful than the shame you'll have to live with if I let you go.”

A bitter taste filled his mouth. Byron struggled against Klaus's whispers, unwilling to surrender so long as Lana still lived. He couldn't fail, not now, not when he was this close to having his revenge.

He heard the faint sound of a chair scraping across the floor over the pounding of his heart. Pete and Greg must've grabbed Espe.

Byron glanced over at Lana, and his chest tightened. She barely showed any signs of life. Why did she have to suffer for his failure? Why did she have to die because he was too slow, too weak, too careless? He should have chased after her the second he saw her run up the stairs.

Anger raced through his body. Like hell he'd give up without a fight. This was Lana, his mate. He wouldn't let this bloodsucking bastard have her. Possessiveness augmented his rage and tightened his muscles. He wrenched his body around and swiped his paw across the vampire's face.

Klaus lifted his head with a howl of pain, and Byron bit into his neck, determined to rip the bloodsucker's head from his body.

“Move!” a shrill female voice ordered.

He jumped to the side as Espe used all her slight weight to plunge a stake into Klaus's heart. Dust and ash filled Byron's mouth where flesh used to be, and the vampire disappeared.

His rage evaporated with the speed of mist in the hot desert sun. He crawled closer to Lana and allowed his body to slide back into its human form. Just as it did every month, the transformation left him naked and exhausted. He pulled Lana close to him and listened for her pulse. It fluttered like a hummingbird's wings under her cold and waxy skin. She still lived. Relief tempered the pain his body felt, but it did little to ease the ache in his heart at seeing her in this condition.

“Here.” Pete handed him a piece of his torn shirt to press against her neck. “I'll call an ambulance.”

Espe pushed the other werewolves away and examined Lana's wounds. “I need something I can use as a tourniquet on her arm. She's losing too much blood.”

“I'll grab some more of Byron's clothes.” Pete disappeared into the hallway with his cell phone up to his ear.

Byron felt like a person watching a movie around him, still in too much shock to do anything useful. Espe wrapped shreds of material around Lana's arm and neck. Red blobs of color expanded over the fabric like inkblots. Shallow breaths created a gentle rise and fall of her chest, and her heart raced under his fingers. Please keep fighting, my love. Help will be here soon.

“Just bite her already.” Greg's voice snapped him out of his trance. “Turn her into one of us, and she'll start healing herself.”

Espe froze. Her large brown eyes widened in fear, and she leaned away from him.

“No,” he growled and held her even closer to him. The cool dampness of her skin chilled him to the bone.

“She's dying, Byron. And if she dies, so do you.”

“I said no! I'm not going to force anything on her. If she chooses this life, then it will be her choice, not a sentence given to her against her will like we experienced.”

“If you won't do, then I will.” Greg's lips curled back to reveal his teeth, and he grabbed her arm.

Byron backhanded him with more force than he intended. Greg fell to the floor, releasing Lana's arm in the process. Blood trickled down his chin.

“I'm the Alpha, and what I say goes.” He clung to her limp body, his soul whispering to hers not to give up. He needed her like air, and the thought of life without her exceeded his notions of torture. If she died, he'd follow her. Such was the bond between true-mates.

Soft fingers covered his cheek. “She'll pull through this,” Espe said softly. “Hunters like Lana don't make it this far without being stubborn.”

For both their sakes, he prayed she was right. He closed his eyes and focused his love and energy into the woman who held his heart in her hands.

CHAPTER 15

Lana floated in a grey void. All the pain vanished once the blackness had descended upon her, and a dim light floated off in the distance, chasing away all the shadows. Could this be the tunnel and the bright light I've heard about? If so, then why aren't I moving?

“Lana, wake up.” The musical accent of the voice tugged her back to earth. She fell through the void like a skydiver without a parachute. Icy fingers pressed into her temples. She braced for impact but only felt the softness of a mattress under her.

“Open your eyes,” the voice commanded.

When she did as she was told, a pair of inhumanly blue eyes burned into hers. Magic rippled around her body and created a soft breeze. Her pain dulled while she remained hypnotized by the powerful witch leaning over her.

The woman removed her fingers, and Lana found her voice despite the desert in her mouth. “What are you doing here, Morwen?”

The witch's bright red hair danced in the sunlight as she laughed. “It's not often one of our best hunters ends up in the hospital.”

Lana glanced around, finally noticing the tubes connected to her body. They all looked like medical equipment, but the room lacked the sterile blandness of a hospital room. Weathered wooden beams supported the ceiling, and a faded patchwork quilt covered her body. “Where am I?”

“At Byron's ranch. We managed to convince the hospital to release you to our care once you came out of surgery.”

Her gaze fell on the huddled form in the chair across the room. Her heart softened as she recognized the familiar angles of his face, despite the thick stubble that covered it. Byron.

“You seem to have quite a devoted lover in him.”

Lana sucked in a breath and held it. The board knew about her relationship with him. “We've only known each other for a few days.”

“And sometimes that can feel like a lifetime.” Her frigid eyes thawed. “Sometimes love sneaks up on us when we least expect it.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Morwen. I hardly know him.”

“But your heart calls out to him just like his does to yours.” Her lips rose in her flawless face. “Don't try to convince me otherwise.”

The witch's ability to read her thoughts unnerved her, and she shifted in the bed to ease the sensation of thousands of spiders crawling on her skin. Although this was her second meeting with the Head Witch, it still felt like two meetings too many. “Did Klaus get away?”

“Ah, so we turn to business now.” She sat on the edge of the bed with the grace of a woman from a 1930s film, even though she hardly looked a day over twenty. “I'm pleased to report that Espe got her first kill.”

“Good.” Lana exhaled and sank further into the pillows. “If anyone deserved to stake that son of a bitch, it was her. Is she doing okay?”

“A little anemic, but on cloud nine otherwise.”

“I'm glad.” She glanced down at the plaster casts surrounding her arm and leg and grimaced. “She'll need to go somewhere else to train while I heal.”

“No, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about.” Morwen stood. Her high heels clicked on the tile floor as she went to the window and stared out into the desert landscape. “She mentioned that Klaus said he was going to turn you. Is that correct?”

Snatches of the nightmare she experienced before blacking out filled her memory. “Yes, he said something about wanting to learn the secrets of the Foundation and that he was going to turn me to get them.”

Morwen's face showed no emotion as the afternoon sunlight turned her pale skin a rich golden hue. “So, they think they can attack us from within.”

“Sergei?”

“And his sire, I suspect. We've been a thorn in their side long enough.” A weak smile formed on her face, but it held no warmth. “But they're going to need bigger tweezers to get rid of us.”

She twirled on her heels and came back to the bed. “As for you, we're removing you from Las Vegas.”

Lana's heart raced, and her throat tightened. Her pulse pounded in her ears. “Removing me?”

“Yes. I have other uses for you, and Wade agrees it's time for you to quit hunting after this escapade.”

“But what if I want to continue being a hunter?” If the witch thought she'd give in this easily, she had another think coming. Lana dug her fingers into the sheets and willed her pulse to slow down.

“Is that what you really want, Lana? To continue being a hunter and everything it entails?” She glanced toward Byron.

All her anger drained out of her when she stared at him. If she continued being a hunter, she'd have to give him up. Deep inside, she knew she couldn't. He had become a part of her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Could she gamble on a new life with him?

She licked her lips and turned back to Morwen. “What did you have in mind for me?”

“I'd like to make you the Foundation's official liaison to the werewolves. They've straddled the fence between us and the vampires for too long now. It's time they chose a side. Byron and I have spoken at great length about it, and he agrees that your temporary alliance proves how well his kind complements our hunters. If the two of you continue to work together, we can add some much-needed allies to our fight against evil.”

“You've spoken to Byron?”

“Yes. You've been floating in and out of consciousness for three days, Lana. It seemed the natural thing to do since we were both waiting for you to wake up.”

“And is he really what he says he is?” She held her breath again, unsure whether she wanted to know the answer to her question.

“You mean you don't believe he's a werewolf?” Morwen's laughter grated her pride like sandpaper. “He's the leader of his pack now, and he's mourning the loss of two of his brothers at the moment. Be gentle with him.”

Lana nodded. A heaviness formed in the pit of her stomach when she thought about him suffering alone through this.

“I wish you a speedy recovery and a lifetime of happiness, whatever your decision is. Call Wade when you make up your mind.”

“About what?” She felt like she'd just been set free from prison and didn't know where to go next.

Morwen paused at the door with an incredulous expression on her face. “About the new position. Personally, I think you'd be a natural at it, but that would involve more choices for you to make. Yuan will be staying here for a few days to speed up the healing process and monitor your recovery.”

As the sound of her high heels vanished, so did the heavy blanket of magic that hung in the room. The tension unwound from Lana's shoulders, and it seemed easier to breathe. The only downside was the dull ache in her broken arm and leg that increased with each throb. She took a deep breath and tried to block the pain in her mind.

“I think they gave you a way to administer your own pain meds.” The rich timbre of Byron's voice wrapped around her like a lover's embrace even from across the room. A few seconds ago, he'd seemed to be passed out in the chair. Now, he was watching her with a mixture of fear and concern on his all-too-alert face. “It's the clicker by your left hand.”

“Thanks.” She pushed the button, and the equivalent of 140-proof liquor flowed through her veins. The throbbing ceased, and her eyelids grew heavy. “How long will you be here?”

“As long as I need to be.” He pushed aside the blanket in his lap and slowly approached her. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I'm still under construction.” She tried to wave the heavy plaster cast in the air, but her muscles wobbled like loose rubber bands and refused to cooperate.

He gave her a wan smile and brushed her hair out of her face. “I've been worried sick about you, Lana.”

She heard the love in his voice and saw it in the way his hazel eyes never wavered from hers. Could Morwen be right about his heart calling to hers? She covered his hand with hers and let the warm glow of their connection envelope her. “I'm sorry, Byron.”

“No more hunting for you.”

She chuckled. “At least for now.”

“No, for good. I can't risk losing you. You've become too important for me to let go.”

“Just because you control the pack doesn't mean you control me.”

His grin widening, he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Who says you won't be joining the pack soon?”

Desire pooled between her legs from the way his breath grazed her ear. The man was pure sex sometimes, and it made it all too easy to give in to him. “Is that what I have to do in order to be with you?”

He rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone and looked at her like she'd told him to piss off. “No, but it would make things easier. I've managed to stay in control so far, but if I'm constantly worried about accidentally biting you when we're together…” His face tensed, aging it almost ten years.

Could she become a werewolf if it meant a lasting relationship with him? Was it really her choice, or was it some inevitable fate she'd eventually have to come to terms with? “I'll give it some serious thought.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“My love?” A head rush of joy hit her when she repeated those words. He loved her as much as she loved him, in spite of the insanity of their lives.

“Would you like me to call you something different?”

“No, I like the sound of that.” She lifted her head and beckoned him to come closer. Her lips hungered for his. One kiss would satisfy her for now.

He hesitated at first, handling her like a delicate Faberge egg. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. Her tongue traced the outline of his mouth and silently begged to enter it. His lips parted, and the kiss deepened to the point where she never wanted it to stop.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled away. “I need to leave before the moon rises.”

“You're leaving me alone?” She gave him an exaggerated pout.

A wicked grin spread across his mouth. “I don't think you're in any condition to do what I want to do, and even then, it would have to be quick.” He planted a final kiss on her forehead. “I've given Yuan a key to the house and ordered her not to let anyone in between sunset and sunrise for the next three days.”

“I'll rest while you're howling at the full moon, then.”

He paused at the door with a tortured expression on his face. “I'd love to have you join me. If I changed you, you'd heal quicker than anything Yuan claims she can do.”

Don't make any rash decisions, her mind ordered. “Maybe next month.”

CHAPTER 16

Lana tested her leg and waited for the pain to race up like it had the day before. This time, however, she didn't even feel a twinge. Her cheeks bunched up in a smile.

“See, I told you I could heal you faster than those wolves.” Yuan crossed her arms and let her eyelids droop in a smug expression. “No need to have them gnaw on your bones when you have a competent witch in the house.”

“Too bad the witch likes to play with needles.” She managed to duck Yuan's playful swat. After four days with her arm and leg encased in the heavy plaster, it felt good to move her limbs without the added weight. She was almost tempted to call Wade and beg for her hunter status to be reinstated.

Yuan finished packing the last of her supplies. “I'm going back to the city. I have to get out of here before I take one of these boys up on their sex-starved pity stories.”

“I had no complaints.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, but that was before they spent three days running around the desert without a shower.”

Just the thought of Byron made her sex ache for him. The full moon had passed with a constant serenade of low, mournful howls outside. Tonight, he'd be a man once more. Tonight, she'd get to experience the pure bliss of him pounding inside her, making her come over and over again.

“Careful, Lana. I can see that look in your eyes. You're still healing from a few broken bones. Don't get any new ones while rattling a headboard.”

Yuan closed the door behind her, leaving Lana alone with her thoughts. After hearing her friend's descriptions of how the werewolves would crawl back to the house naked and exhausted when the sun rose, she began to question whether or not this was the life she wanted to live. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and wondered what she'd look like if she shifted into a wolf. Could she handle surrendering control of her body to the full moon every month?

The floorboards creaked outside her door, alerting her that the other members of the household were waking up. Her thoughts turned to Byron again. She hadn't seen him in four days, and the urge to be near him almost choked her like a vise. She opened the door and peered out into the hallway, hoping everyone would be fully clothed.

The smell of dark roasted coffee called to her from the kitchen. It was her first time venturing out of her room since she arrived, but she felt like she already knew her way around the ranch house. She jerked to a stop when she saw Greg pouring himself a cup.

He set the pot down and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Good evening, Lana.”

She gave him a shy grin and lingered in the doorway. It was one thing to wake up in her boyfriend's house with only him there. It was an entirely different thing when he shared a house with over a dozen other men. “Good evening, Greg. Have you seen Byron?”

The small werewolf's mouth angled down for a moment. “He's up at Eddie's cabin.”

“He's not here?” Her heart sank into her stomach. Had he suddenly come to his senses and realized a relationship with her was a total mistake?

Greg shook his head. “Your scent just about drove him mad the first night, so a bunch of us ran him up into the hills just so he could have some peace. He hasn't come down since.” He grabbed a cup from the shelves above. “Coffee?”

She nodded and pulled one of the barstools up to the center island while she mulled over his words. Did the pack not accept her because she wasn't like them? Did they see her as a threat to their leader?

Greg handed her a steaming mug of black coffee and studied her for a minute. “How much has Byron told you about the mating process?”

“Very little. He just told me I was his mate, and that's it.”

He cursed under his breath. “Figures. He's trying too hard not to influence your decision.”

“Considering it's been only a week since I found out what Byron is, I'm having a bit of a hard time processing it all, especially when you throw in the fact I've only spoken to him once during that time.”

Greg cocked a brow. “Would you be willing to hear the truth from me?”

She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I'd rather hear it from Byron, but since he's avoiding me…”

“He's avoiding you because he thinks it's the noble thing to do, even if he's a fucking idiot. And I'm his best friend, so I have every right to say that.” He pulled a stool up to the counter and sat across from her. “He wants this to be your decision, even though it's slowly destroying him.”

Icy fear trickled down her spine. “If you think my relationship with him is a bad thing—”

“No, that's not it at all. I'm thrilled he's found his true-mate. Most of us will never experience that in our lifetimes. It's your hesitation to take the next step that's the problem. Or should I say, Byron's hesitation to complete the mating process is what's going to be his undoing. He's the Alpha, the leader of the pack. He can't be driven to distraction by you and still maintain order.”

She closed her eyes and tried to push the image of Byron suffering from her mind. “You're talking in riddles. Just come out and say it, Greg.”

“Fine. If he doesn't turn you soon, it's going to eat away at him until he's just a shell of the man he once was.”

She winced like he'd just slapped her in the face and called her the Yoko Ono of the pack. “Greg, I know if I was like him, things would be easier, but I'm not sure I want to live that kind of life.”

When she opened her eyes, a snarl was still lingering on his face, and his eyes were glowing amber. “Then you're willing to slowly kill him?”

Her pulse hammered in her ears, and the huntress inside her warned her to back away before he attacked. “No, but I don't think my refusal to become a werewolf will be as devastating as you imply.”

A string of cuss words exploded from Greg's mouth, and he grabbed the counter in a white-knuckled grip. “Suit yourself.” The two words came out in a low growl. “But I warn you—I won't stand back and watch my best friend suffer.”

“Greg, pull yourself together.” Pete loped into the kitchen. “We want her to join the pack, not be scared away from it.”

Greg's features relaxed, but the yellow glow didn't fade from his eyes. “Right.” He picked up his cup of coffee and turned to the back door. “I'll be in the shop if anyone needs me.”

Lana let her muscles relax as the door banged shut behind him. One more reason to consider running to the Foundation and begging for her old job back. Yes, she might love Byron, but if she had to face this kind of hostility from his friends, she wondered if it was worth it.

Pete poured himself some coffee. “Don't mind Greg. He's always been a little overprotective of Byron.”

“Is what he said true?”

“About the mating process? Yep. Byron's already bonded with you. He's waiting for you to complete the bond.”

“Meaning?”

“You need to become one of us, ideally. As long as you're a normal human, you're holding back a part of yourself from him. It won't kill him, but it will definitely drive him batty. And if you leave him…” His voice trailed off as he stared at the mountains outside the window. “Well, I don't want to think about that.”

“If I left, would it kill him?” Her voice quivered at the end of her question. So far, this mating process seemed far more complicated than she cared to admit. Whatever happened to boy meets girl and they slowly fall in love and get married and have a couple of kids? Why did this love story have to involve her getting bitten and growing hair all over her body once a month?

“Listen, Lana, I shouldn't be the one trying to make up your mind. Either you love him enough to take the next step, or you don't. I can't read your mind. All I know is that Byron is crazy for you, and if you want to find him and finish this discussion with him, he's in that cabin over there.” He pointed to a distant dot on top of a hill.

She stared at it and an intense longing filled her. Yes, she needed to be having this conversation with him, not his friends. “How do I get there?”

Pete tossed her a set of keys. “Take Byron's Jeep and follow the road up.”

During the entire bumpy ride, her mind warred with her heart. She refused to bow down to their threats and pressure and become a werewolf, but at the same time, she couldn't imagine anyone being more perfect for her than Byron. Maybe there was some truth to this whole mating thing, but her common sense warned her to take her time accepting it.

When she entered the stuffy one-room cabin, her common sense flew out the window. Byron lay stretched across the bed, the sheet barely covering his groin. Her mouth watered as she stared at his naked flesh, and her panties grew damp. Some kind of primitive need engulfed her. She longed to feel his bare flesh against hers, to taste his skin, to join with him physically and emotionally.

By the time she crossed the room, she'd shed her jeans, underwear and tank top. She was working on her bra when he stirred in his sleep. A smile played on his lips, and he murmured her name. Desire rippled down her body and settled in the pit of her stomach. Even while sleeping, he seemed to want her as much as she wanted him.

She crawled into the bed and kissed him. The salty taste of his sweat filled her mouth as her tongue grazed his lips. He moaned and opened his mouth for her exploration, gripped her elbows to keep her close to him. She increased the tempo of her swirling tongue, slowly waking him up with each flick until the evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh.

“Lana, what are you doing here?” he asked when she finally ended the kiss.

“What do you think?” She bent over and nibbled on his ear. Dear God, he tasted so good. Her lips traveled lower, and her tongue traced the thick corded muscles of his neck. An intense hunger filled her with every inch of his skin she savored.

His grip tightened on her arms. “I'm trying so hard to stay in control, but when you tempt me like this…” He hissed as her teeth grazed his nipple. “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?”

“I think it's rather obvious.” She straddled him and lowered her hips until the tip of his erection brushed against her slick folds. She bit her lip to keep from impaling herself on his cock, fighting the rising need to have him fuck her hard and fast like he had in the shower last week. Damn, she wanted him more than she realized. “Funny, I thought an Alpha would prefer to be on top.”

Her taunt had the desired effect. He flipped her onto her back in one fluid motion and plunged his cock into her. A shudder tore through her body, but she wasn't sure if it was from him or her. The boundaries between them seemed to blur when they were joined like this.

He closed his eyes, and a sigh escaped his lips. “You feel so good, Lana.”

“Not half as good as you feel.” She wiggled under him. “Of course, there's a way you could feel much better.”

He opened his eyes and combed her hair from her forehead before pressing his lips against it. “I thought I was the Alpha here. Let me just enjoy you for a few more seconds.”

He inhaled deeply and she remembered Greg's comments about her scent driving Byron crazy. She breathed in through her nose, capturing the smells of sun-baked earth and leather that rose from his skin. Her sex clenched around him, and he groaned and shut his eyes again.

His face tensed as he slowly withdrew from her. “I want you so much, Lana.” His lips grazed hers. “To hold you, to possess you, to make love to you every night until we both collapse.”

She dug her nails into his shoulders while he slowly slid back into her. This bordered on pure torture. She needed to satisfy the growing hunger building inside her. She needed to come in his arms. But a craving more powerful than even her desire called to her. A craving that both terrified her and thrilled her. She wanted to be ravaged in every sense of the word by him, to have him mark her and claim her as his.

“Lana, what are you thinking?”

The worry in his voice only fed the hunger. “That you're being entirely too tame with me.”

She caught his lips and plunged her tongue into his mouth, exploring its hot recesses until he responded and began moving inside her. Sweat prickled along the back of her neck as his strokes quickened. Tension coiled in her womb. And yet, she still craved something more. Something she couldn't name, but it called to her inner huntress, far more primal than her civilized mind could fathom.

He ripped his lips from hers and jerked to a stop. The feral glow in his eyes stirred a slurry of emotions within her—desire, fear, pleasure.

She nipped at his neck. “Don't hold back, Byron,” she whispered in his ear.

Pain laced his voice. “Lana, I don't want to hurt you.”

“I trust you.” She caught his bottom lip with her teeth and sucked on it.

He groaned and the intense ferocity returned to his lovemaking. His cock rammed into her over and over again, slamming to the hilt each time and rubbing against the exquisitely sensitive spot inside her pussy. Her consciousness faded as she came closer and closer to the precipice. Her mouth moved across his skin, peppering his flesh with tiny nibbles before lapping her tongue over it. Her nips seemed to encourage him to continue his frenzied pace. The violent shock of her orgasm nearly ripped her apart. Instead of crying out, she sank her teeth into his upper arm.

He slowed and whimpered as her pussy clenched around his cock. “Lana, what are you doing?”

When she relaxed her jaw, she glanced at the teeth marks on his skin, and a warm glow spread through her. She'd marked him. He was hers and no one else's. “I love you, and there's no one else I want to be with.”

“Are you sure?” The yellow glow in his eyes intensified. He made no effort to hide his emotions from her now. They sat raw and hungry on the surface, all for her. He loved her and was waiting for her permission to complete their bond as mates.

Any doubt she had about their future vanished right then. She tilted his head down to the fresh scars on her neck. Klaus had taken her by force. Now, she wanted Byron to cover the scars with his own bite. The bite of a lover, a bite that would mark her as his. “Please,” she begged.

She braced for the pain, but instead he gently kissed her. “I love you, too, Lana.”

The brief moment of gentleness disappeared as he moved inside her once again. His mouth claimed hers, his kisses growing more aggressive to match each stroke of his cock. The boundaries between them blurred like they had before, only this time, she didn't need to meet his gaze. His heart pounded in time with hers. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony.

A whimper rose in the back of her throat. The primal need that she'd been feeling ever since she arrived at the cabin raged against its restraints, demanding to be unleashed. The image of a wolf with his fangs bared flashed in front of her just before Byron's teeth pricked the surface of her skin.

A multitude of sensations exploded within her all at once. The sting of his bite throbbed through her body in time with waves of bliss that pulsated from her womb. They crashed together near her heart, making her breath hitch. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she clung tightly to him. His scent washed over her and became as familiar as the sound of his voice. Deep inside her sex, his cock twitched to its own beat, drawing out her own orgasm.

She floated in a haze of pleasure and pain while listening to Byron whisper that he loved her over and over again. As the sensations waned, a sudden peace filled her. Her heart called out to him, and his answered. Instead of being terrified of having this level of intimacy with another person, she embraced it. No more keeping herself isolated from the rest of the world.

When her vision finally cleared, Byron's face loomed above hers. The tenderness glowing from his hazel eyes nearly took her breath away, and the lines of worry she'd seen etched in his face every time he made love to her were noticeably absent.

“Is that all?” she asked. “Did it work?”

“We'll find out next month.” He left a trail of kisses down her throat, lingering just above her left breast where he'd bit her. A rumble of laughter vibrated through his chest. “You surprised me. I never took you for the biting type.”

She traced the teeth marks on his arm. “Perhaps we're better suited for each other than we first realized.”

“I knew from the moment I knocked that stake out of your hand that I'd found the perfect girl.” He slid his finger along her jaw and his smile faded. “The past four days have been pure torture for me. You have no idea how tempted I was to break your window and crawl into bed next to you, even when I was trapped in a wolf's body.”

“Why didn't you?”

“Besides the fact that Greg, Pete and a few other members of the pack chased me up here? Maybe it was because I knew I'd lose control and force you to change.” His expression darkened. “I'm sorry, Lana. We can't turn back now, but—”

She shushed him by placing her finger over his lips. “The past few days have been torture for me, too. Now we don't have to worry about being separated every full moon.”

His grin returned and he rolled over onto his back, taking her with him. “I still wonder how I was lucky enough to deserve you, my love.”

His heartbeat sang in her ear like a soothing lullaby. She wished she had a better answer for him other than they were just meant to be together, as corny as that sounded. In his arms, she'd discovered her new home. Whatever the future brought, she'd welcome it as long as he stood beside her as a friend, an ally and a lover.

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