The Fire Within
By Dana Marie Bell

Book two of The Nephilim

When private detective Elizabeth Rand witnesses a murder in the snow, she’s in for the case of her
life. Mysterious creatures are killing people, and soon she’s hired to look into one of the deaths. That
means working with one of the city’s sexiest detectives, Dante Zucco.

As a Nephilim—the offspring of a human and an angel—Dante’s been hunting the demons known as
Shemyaza for years, and Beth’s case stinks of one. But while he can see the Shem’s miasma, she
can’t, and she refuses to believe she’s in over her head. As infuriating as she is, he can’t stay away—
if she died, she’d take a piece of his heart with her.

Dante’s too loud, too brash, too everything...but Beth can’t resist him. And that might be a deadly
problem. Dante’s got a sense the Shem are out for his blood, literally, and that means anyone he cares
about is in danger. If the Shem realize they can kill Beth to hurt him, it’ll take all the inner fire he’s
got to keep her safe.

79,000 words

Dear Reader,

June seems to be a time of both magical beginnings and wishful thinking, as we combine the wedding
season with the last month of school. Here at Carina, our jobs are filled with a combination of both
magical beginnings and wishful thinking, as we work in the land of fiction and allow ourselves to
drift through fantastic worlds, happily ever afters and action-filled stories. Okay, maybe our jobs are
a lot more rooted in reality than that, but the books we publish do allow us a brief escape and I hope
they’ll do the same for you this month.

Powerhouse erotic romance author Lynda Aicher is back with Bonds of Courage, in which an alpha
professional hockey player finds himself the one bound and at her mercy. Joining Lynda in the erotic
category is Samantha Ann King with another fantastic ménage, Tempting Meredith. One man is risky,
but two might teach her to trust and love again.

June brings quite a lineup of male/male romances. Ava March always stands out for me because not
only does she write a fantastic male/male erotic romance, but she sets it in historical times, when it
was even harder for two men to be in love, lending even more delicious romantic tension. Don’t miss
Sharp Love, followed by The Viscount’s Wager releasing in December 2014.

And speaking of magical beginnings, we have two debut authors in the male/male category. This
month we’re pleased to introduce Tyler Flynn and Chasing the Rebel. One man is fleeing the French
Revolution, the other sympathizes with the Revolution. How can they fall for each other when they
can’t even trust each other?

Also debuting with Carina Press this month is G.B. Lindsey, who leads off a three-part anthology,
Secrets of Neverwood, which includes novellas from returning Carina Press authors Diana Copland
and Libby Drew. As three foster brothers renovate a stately mansion to reopen it as a home for
troubled gay youth, their love lives are complicated by the whimsical ghost of their foster mother in
One Door Closes, The Growing Season, and The Lost Year.

Rounding out our male/male selections for the month is returning author L.B. Gregg with her popular
Men of Smithfield series. In Men of Smithfield: Sam and Aaron, Sam’s in a rut and looking to break
out of it, so he’s thrilled when a newcomer to town introduces more than an edge of naughty nights
and risky days into his life.

There are so many more incredible books coming in June, it’s hard to know which world to lead you
to next. How about some angels and demons in The Fire Within by Dana Marie Bell? Or why not take
a trip on the high seas on a pirate ship—only this one captained by a woman in Mutiny of the Heart
by Jennifer Bray-Weber. Danube Adele isn’t shy about taking new adult to a whole new level in her
paranormal romance Dark Summer Dreams, in which Shandria is forced to rescue a sworn enemy of
her people, only to find herself kidnapped by that same rugged warrior who promises retribution of
his own. And who wouldn’t want to spend time with an outlaw witch, a society ice queen, and illicit
magic that lights up the night in the tense futuristic world of the Magic Born in Sonya Clark’s
Witchlight.

In another twist on the new adult genre, Anne Tibbets joins Carina Press and introduces The Line
Book One: Carrier and her dystopian world. In a futuristic society, sex slave Naya is released and
given a choice—find someone willing to take her place, or fight against the ruling corporation to save
her unborn children.

Amylynn Bright also joins Carina Press, bringing contemporary romance Cooking Up Love to our
virtual shelves. When anonymous food critic and lousy chef Holly signed up for cooking classes, she
didn’t realize that she and her yummy instructor would be whipping up more than dinner in the kitchen
—or that he’d blame her bad review for closing his restaurant and killing his career.

We have two additional debut authors to introduce this month, both writing contemporary new adult
romance, but in two freshly original and very different stories. In Hate to Love You by Elise Alden,
hatred and guilt battle love and desire as Paisley and James confront the past, each other, and the
unwanted attraction that sparked between them the night she ruined his wedding. This is one book that
will have people firmly on either side of a line: hate Paisley, or love her?

And we welcome Sybil Bartel and her new adult romance, No Apologies. No heart, questionable
morals, one hundred percent attitude, Graham Allen is the perfect rocker; nothing can break him—
except her.

Last, this month we introduce a new trilogy, Shore Secrets, from Carina Press author Christi Barth. A
hard-nosed businessman with contempt for small-town America is forever changed by the love of a
sexy hotel owner and a quirky but tight-knit community famous for its anonymous journal by the
lakeshore. Don’t miss Up to Me, the first of this trilogy featuring three strong heroes, fighting for the
love and trust of three even stronger heroines on the shores of Seneca Lake.

I hope your month of June is as wonderful as ours, spending it among our reader friends at different
conventions and getting to gab about the books we love. Maybe we’ll see you at one of them! And if
you do, we hope you’ll stop us and tell us your favorite Carina Press book. There just might be some
Carina swag in it for you if we have any on us!

Coming in July: Falling for Max by Shannon Stacey; a debut author, Caroline Kimberly, brings us a
historical romance pitched as “Regency Romancing the Stone”; and Jeffe Kennedy offers up a hot
new BDSM novel.

Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

Happy reading!

~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press

Dedication

To all the angels who watch over us, whether we like it or not.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

About the Author

Copyright

Chapter One

“Blech.”

Beth hated snow.
She hated driving in it, hated dealing with other people who were driving in it. Hated being forced

to wear enough clothing to make a dog sweat, yet still freezing her ass off.

Beth shivered as the freezing wind blew snow down the neck of her leather jacket. Snow had to be

one of her least favorite forms of weather, and tonight’s storm promised to be a real disaster. She
quickly locked the door of Rand Investigations and pulled on her leather gloves, her breath steaming
in the freezing air. She shoved her keys back into her pocket and began walking to where she’d
parked her car.

It wasn’t long before the snowflakes were clinging to her glasses, obscuring her vision. She wiped

the snow off with her hand, but it only made things worse. Now everything appeared as if it was
underwater.

Double blech.
She should have gone home earlier, but she’d hoped to get some work done before she was forced

to leave for the day. Beth had finally decided to throw in the towel when she’d lost her internet
connection. The research she had been doing would just have to be done on her computer at home
instead. If she had internet connection.

And that was a big if. She hadn’t seen a storm like this since two years ago, when they got two feet

of snow.

She turned the corner, impatiently pulling her car keys out of her pocket. She stopped dead when

she saw a watery white shape crouching down in the snow.

“Hey, is everything all right?” She hoped it wasn’t someone injured from falling on the icy

sidewalk. A fall in this stuff could be dangerous. One knock on the head and you were a good
candidate for popsicle-hood.

Beth moved toward the fallen person just as the man stood. She got a quick glimpse of red bloody

lips and thick snow goggles under a white hood before the man took off running. She began to run
after him, but stopped short.

The woman lying in the snow wasn’t moving. “Shit.” This wasn’t someone who’d slipped. Beth’s

first clue was the growing red stain around the figure, bright against the snow. Beth knelt, careful not
to disturb anything, and took a closer look. “Son of a bitch.”

The vic had a gaping wound in her chest. Whoever she was, she was already dead.
Beth dug into her coat for her cell phone, looking around for the man who’d run. It would suck big

time if he came back and tried to take her on.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
She took a deep breath and hoped the dispatcher couldn’t hear how tense she was. She was alone

on the street, vulnerable, and the perpetrator could still be in the vicinity. “My name is Elizabeth
Rand, and I’m a private investigator. I’ve just found a body outside my office. She’s obviously dead,
and the wound looks...vicious.” Whatever she’d been killed with, it had shredded the parka around
the wound. Maybe a shotgun? But Beth didn’t remember hearing anything that loud. In fact, she
couldn’t remember hearing a gun go off at all.

“Can you give me the address?”
Beth rattled it off, keeping an eye out for civilians and the perpetrator alike.
“The police are en route. Did you witness the crime?”
“No, but I saw someone crouching over the body. I’m not sure if it was a good Samaritan who got

scared off by my presence, or the perp. Either way, whoever it was ran off. I lost them when I
stopped to see if the vic needed help.”

“Can you describe the person you saw?”
“White parka, snow goggles. Couldn’t tell whether the perp was male or female because of the

way they were bundled up, but from the way they moved I’m going with male. Whoever it was ran off
as soon as they saw me.” And damn it, she was repeating herself. She blew out a rough breath and
prayed she could get her nerves back under control.

“Thank you. Do you know whether or not the person in the parka had a weapon?”
“I couldn’t see any, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one.” Really, all she’d seen had been the

parka, some blood on his lips and the goggles. She wasn’t even certain if there’d been blood on his
coat. From the flecks of blood on the victim’s mouth, he could easily have gotten the blood on his lips
from attempting CPR, so he might not even be the murderer. He could simply be someone who’d tried
to do a good deed and gotten frightened when he saw Beth.

Stranger things had happened.
“All right, Ms. Rand. Please stay on the line until the officers arrive.”
“Thank you.”
A standard precaution, one Beth approved of wholeheartedly. If the perp did come back to

eliminate the only witness, she’d at least get something on tape with the New Castle P.D. She chatted
quietly with the nine-one-one operator until two patrol cars arrived, followed by what looked like an
unmarked car.

Beth swore under her breath as a familiar head of dark blond hair emerged out of the snow. “Son of

a bitch.”

“Excuse me, ma’am? Is everything all right?” The concern in the dispatcher’s voice had Beth just

about ready to apologize, but before she could her old friend Nelson Purvis called out her name.

Beth grimaced as the one detective in all of New Castle who didn’t like her scowled at her

ferociously. Dante. Damn it. He had no right to look so good even when he glared at her.

“Ma’am? Is everything all right?”
Dante rolled his eyes at her before turning to his partner, who did like her. “Jesus, it’s the P.I.”
Beth sighed. It would be...him. “Oh. Yeah. Everything’s peachy. Detectives Purvis and Zucco are

here.” She snorted. “Yay.”

“Ma’am?”
“Never mind. Thanks for your help.” She hung up with the dispatcher and prepared herself for

interrogation, Dante style. Purvis, at least, would take it easy on her. The man had something of a soft
spot for her, had for years, and she was equally fond of him. Too bad his partner was a giant, sexy
pain in the ass.

A sexy ass who she suspected might just be a superhero.

* * *

Dante was ticked. His hair was already wet with snow, and he’d only been out of his car for a few
seconds. He was exhausted from chasing some damn Shem half the night, and he could barely see the
flashing lights that marked the two patrol cars that had descended on the crime scene thanks to the
damn snow. Worse, the fucking Shem had gotten away from them, frustrating all three of them. Seth
had gone home to his brand new wife and Damien had left to get some sleep. Only Dante had
continued to drive around, fuming that they’d lost the creature in the dark.

But it was the sight of Elizabeth Rand that ticked him off the most. His hair would dry. The snow

would melt. The Shem would eventually be dealt with.

But Elizabeth was like a rash that never went away, bright, inflamed and irritating.
The woman had found herself in the middle of a fight with a Shemyaza about eight months ago, a

fight she stood no chance of winning, and had stood her ground to defend her friend Abby. He doubted
there was much that would make her back down, not even jail. Hell, he’d even threatened her with
that to get her to back off, but she hadn’t. She’d stood up to him, shouted at him, had even threatened
to get his boss to back her up.

He had to admit, he admired her balls even while he wanted to lock her away somewhere.
Even worse, she’d won, killing the Shem with a single gunshot wound to the head to protect Abby

van Licht from the Shem Chameleon that had kidnapped and almost killed her. In the process she’d
learned about the war between the Nephilim, the angel-born who’d dedicated their lives to protecting
humans, and the Shemyaza, the angel-born who followed the dictates of their lord, Shemhazai,
feasting on mortals, taking flesh and blood and souls until everything human in them had died. The
Shemyaza’s devotion to Shemhazai caused physical changes in them. Shem had a distinctive dirty
yellow aura that was difficult to hide from other angel-born. Their bodies changed, growing claws
and oversized fangs. Their skin became pale and blotchy, their lips blackened, and their blood
became a viscous green. Though they were able to hide by assuming a human form, other angel-born
could detect their presence. And if they fought in their Shem forms, revealing their darker selves,
humans could see it as easily as the Neph could.

Which was how Elizabeth Rand found herself facing a monster she wasn’t equipped to fight.

Somehow Elizabeth had won, ignoring the terror that must have struck at the sight of the Shemyaza,
killing the creature before it could harm Abby.

For that—for saving his brother’s love—he tolerated Elizabeth Rand.
Barely.
He blew out a frustrated breath, well aware those bright gray eyes were following his every

movement. Who was he kidding? He was aware of Elizabeth in a way he never was with anyone else,
not even his Neph brothers. She drew him like a siren did a sailor, and if he wasn’t careful she would
have the same effect on him.

He’d be wrecked.
He did his best to ignore Elizabeth, leaving her to his partner, Nelson Purvis. He turned his

attention instead to the vic, and swore under his breath.

A woman lay face-up in the snow, her dark hair splayed around her, her expensive winter coat

spattered with blood. Her eyes were open and staring, starting to film over. The contents of her purse
were scattered around her, the snow nearly obscuring the credit and health insurance cards. Her
briefcase lay open, half filled with blown snow, papers riffling in the wind.

But the biggest problem was the chest wound.

The sickly green aura that surrounded her was slowly fading away, but it was thickest there.

Merda. This was a Shem kill, no doubt about it.

He had to get Elizabeth and her nosy ass out of here before she got a whiff of anything supernatural.

Once he started bringing his brothers in on this there was no way she wouldn’t figure it out.

“Any ID yet?” He studied the pose of the body, the way she was sprawled, the rapidly filling marks

in the snow. He gestured for his guys to quickly take pictures before they lost the scene.

It was obvious that she’d seen her attacker, had fought back, but a human against a Shem?
It was no contest. She hadn’t stood a chance. She wasn’t Elizabeth-fucking-Rand, and she’d died

horribly, torn apart by a monster masquerading as a man.

The uniform pointed toward the briefcase. “Her name is Jennifer Blake. She’s a lawyer working

for Todd Blessing.”

Dante whistled softly. Wonderful. The vic worked for a politician who was already ramping up his

campaign for the gubernatorial race. This was going to be a mess. Burying the case in paperwork until
it went cold was not going to be an option. “Any witnesses?”

“Yup.” The uniform pointed toward Elizabeth. “She’s the only witness.”
“Thanks.” Dante glanced over to find his partner, Purvis, was already questioning Elizabeth,

leaving it to Dante to talk to the forensics team that had just arrived.

Her gray gaze—so bright, so tempting—darted his way before she turned her attention back to

Purvis. When she smiled her whole face lit up, heating Dante like a bright flame on a cold day.

That jolt of awareness that always went through him when he saw her slammed into him. Her

shoulder-length dark hair was soaked with snow, her fair skin ruddy with the cold.

He wanted to be the only one allowed to warm her, and that just pissed him off.
She turned, saw him staring, and stuck her tongue out at him before hugging Purvis, showing the

older detective far more affection than she had ever shown Dante. He wasn’t aware Purvis and
Elizabeth were that close.

God, she annoyed the crap out of him without even trying. And why the fuck was he jealous of his

very happily married partner? It wasn’t as if he was attracted to her.

She pushed her hair out of her face, and just for a second he wished he was the one who had done

it.

He wasn’t. Attracted. To. Elizabeth! He couldn’t be. She was everything he didn’t want.
Right?
She licked her lips, and he damn near groaned.
Aw, fuck.
He had to get her off this crime scene. The last person who should be tangling with the Shem was a

human, and if it had seen her...

Dante shuddered, picturing that gaping wound on Elizabeth’s chest, those bright, biting gray eyes

blurred in death. A human who fought the Shemyaza would lose every single time, and damn if
something in him wouldn’t die if Elizabeth got hurt. He walked over to the two of them, determined to
get her to go home. “Elizabeth. Why don’t you go back into your nice warm office and track down a
cheating husband or two if you need to pay your rent. We’ve got this.”

He was startled by the smug little smile on Rand’s face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
He opened his mouth to respond when Purvis hit him on the head with his hat. “Stop trying to run

off our witness, asshole.”

Elizabeth smirked at him. “Yeah, stop trying to run off your witness.”
Dante stopped himself just short of grinding his teeth. No one he knew got on his nerves as badly as

Elizabeth did. She never backed down from anything, even when saints and angels would throw up
their hands and declare defeat. And now she had Purvis on her side? He knew the two of them were
friends from the things Purvis had said in the past, but he hadn’t known they were close enough for
Purvis to actually defend her from him, his partner.

Figlio di puttana. She was going to be the death of him.
He pulled out a notebook and a pen.
Fine. The sooner they questioned her, the sooner her very fine ass was out of here and safe. “What

were you doing in the street? The governor declared a snow emergency. Non-essential personnel
were to be home by now.”

“I was doing paperwork and must have missed the announcement.” She shrugged. “I was closing up

shop and heading home when I saw the body.”

“What exactly did you see?” Dante bit the bullet. Elizabeth was a trained investigator. She might

have seen something useful.

“Snow.”
Or maybe not.
He reminded himself that strangling her in public, where anyone could see, would get him twenty-

five to life. “When did you first notice the body?”

“I rounded the corner, heading for the parking lot, when I noticed someone crouched down in the

snow. At first I thought they’d fallen or something, so I asked if everything was all right. Whoever it
was stood and ran. I started after them, but I noticed the person lying there, not moving, so I stopped
to check on her. That’s when I noticed the wound and the shredded parka.”

He bit back a curse. The miasma around the body made him realize exactly how close Elizabeth

had been to death.

Elizabeth glanced at the corpse. “I think, from the size of the wound and the damage surrounding it,

she was shot from behind with a large-caliber hollow-point bullet. Or a shotgun at close range. But I
don’t remember hearing a gun go off.”

Yeah. Sure. They’d find a .38 hollow point in the body. Not.
“Is that all?” Dante closed his notebook, ready for her to be gone from here. If the Shem found out

who she was, that she’d caught a glimpse of him...

Dante shuddered. She’d be one hell of a feast, especially for a Chameleon or Incubus Shem. The

sheer stubbornness spoke of a strength of will they would love to break down. The emotional drain
would leave her a husk of what she’d once been. And while she might think she could fight off one of
the other types of Shem, against a Legionnaire or a Knight she’d be ripped to shreds. The strongest of
the angel-born, Knights and Legionnaires could decimate a human without breaking a sweat.

And then there were the Azar who would literally eat her alive, or the Malachi who would take her

brilliant mind and turn it into oatmeal, or the Angelus Shem who would leave her twisted and broken
as it fed on her life force. Since he couldn’t tell what kind of Shem they were dealing with just from
the lingering aura, all of the horrors one of them could visit on Elizabeth ran through his mind, each
one worse than the last. He’d seen all of them, all the different kinds of Shem kills.

The thought of that happening to the vibrant woman in front of him?
The urge to protect her was so sudden, so strong, he nearly staggered with the force of it.

Elizabeth glanced at the open briefcase and the scattered files. “The guy was after something. Not a

simple robbery.” Her gaze grew distant, turned inward as she pondered the scene in front of them.
“The guy rifled her purse to make it look like a robbery, but I’d bet my license he was really after the
briefcase.”

Dante tried to shrug off the overwhelming need to usher her into his car, where she’d be warm and

safe. “And you reached this conclusion through your brilliant deductive skills?”

Elizabeth shot him a hard glare. “I reached it because while her purse was dumped, it wasn’t rifled

through the way the briefcase was. Her credit cards were left behind, and so was her cell phone and
cash. The paper this guy was after wasn’t green.”

Dante gazed at her thoughtfully. “How do you know it was a guy?”
“Movement. Build. No boobs. Looking at that—” she pointed to the purse and its scattered

contents, “—he didn’t know one end of a purse from another. That sort of thing.”

Dante reopened his notebook. She might have something there. “Height?”
“Five seven, maybe five eight.”
“Build?”
“Broad. I think. It was kind of hard to tell with that huge parka. It obscured him pretty well. I

couldn’t even see his face, thanks to the goggles.” She sounded thoroughly disgusted with herself.

“White parka?” Dante looked up from his notes.
“Yes, a huge white parka with a hood. He also had on ski goggles.” She frowned, her expression

totally serious for the first time since he saw her standing next to the body. “There was blood on his
mouth.”

Purvis made a note. She must have not given him that little tid-bit.
Dante relaxed. Maybe she’d be safe after all. If the only look she’d gotten at the Shem hadn’t been

enough to identify him, the creature might just leave her be. “Was there anything else unusual about
him? Could you pick him out of a lineup?”

She pushed her glasses up her nose. “He was awkward in the snow.”
Dante blinked. “Excuse me?”
“He had trouble running in the snow. Like he wasn’t used to it.”
Dante closed his notebook again, glancing as the coroner zipped up the body. The green miasma

that surrounded it made it clear that Elizabeth Rand had no business looking into this death. “I want
you to stay out of this.”

Her brows rose. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t try to find the murderer.” Just the thought of her running around, chasing Shem, gave him

hives. “I know you think you’re Super Sleuth, but let the police do their job.”

She glared at him, and he just knew she’d try and find out who’d done this just because he’d told

her not to. He had to head her off, keep her safe. “I mean it, Elizabeth. Don’t make me come down on
you.”

She completely ignored him, turning to Purvis with a warm smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Tell

Lakisha to call me.”

“I will. Tell Abby I said hello.” Purvis gave her a hug.
“Will do.” She smirked at Dante before giving a nonchalant wave and heading into the parking lot.

“Detective?” She shot him a look over her shoulder, giving him a once-over that would have had him
asking her out had she been anyone other than Elizabeth. “If you need anything, call me.”

And the bane of his existence sauntered off, somehow looking incredibly sexy even under seven

layers of clothing and sliding on the ice.

Purvis snickered. “You are in so much trouble with that one.”
All Dante could do was nod.

* * *

Beth got up the morning after the blizzard with one hell of a desire for coffee, but that was nothing
new. What was new was the intriguing murder case that had been handed to her on a silver platter the
day before.

She brushed her teeth and got dressed, going over her day in her head. Mostly, as a P.I. Beth

investigated cheating spouses or looked for missing loved ones. She’d had cases where she tracked
down lost or stolen items, and once she’d been asked to look for a pet who’d run away.

She’d solved that one for a peanut butter cup and the sweetest five-year-old’s smile she’d ever

seen.

It was grunt work, but she found it satisfying.
She helped people, people who wanted to be helped, and that was enough for her. People like

Dante might not always understand why she’d chosen to pursue the career she had, but for the most
part she’d managed to earn the respect of the local cops.

Well, except for one glaring exception. Detective Dante Zucco.
Elizabeth Rand refusing to investigate a murder that happened practically on her doorstep?
I don’t think so.
It was just like Dante to decide what she could and could not do on a case, but hell if she was

going to listen to him. Oh, no. Dante had treated her like a nuisance, just as he had eight months ago
when she’d been hired to work Abby’s stalker case. He’d given her grief then too, but she’d been the
one to take out the bad guy, not him.

And, just like then, she wasn’t about to put up with his bullshit, even if it did turn out he was some

kind of Jedi Knight. It would take more than a Luke Skywalker-wannabe to make her give up a case. If
he was some kind of angelic...

Pfft.
An angel.
Dante.
She wiped the tears away and made her way into the kitchen. Man, she hadn’t laughed that hard in

weeks.

Still, even if it did turn out he was one of those angel-thingies like Seth, there was no way she’d

back off. It would take more than a pair of glowing wings and a bad attitude to make her give up.

After pouring a cup of life-giving fluid, she made her way to her answering machine. She’d

forgotten to check her messages after getting home the day before.

“You have four new messages.”
She punched the button and took another sip of coffee, moaning as the dark, bitter flavor exploded

over her tongue.

Beep. “Hi, Beth, it’s Abby. Seth and I wanted to know if you’d like to come and take a look at the

nursery. That artist you put us in touch with is a genius. Thanks again. Bye!”

Beth smiled, some of her foul mood evaporating. Abby and Seth’s marriage had been the best thing

to come out of the Marcheson stalking case. And she’d never tell either of them about the nightmares
she still suffered from thanks to that night.

She shuddered at the memory of Diana’s black teeth and green blood. Sometimes, in her

nightmares, she missed, and...

Yeah. Those nightmares were best left buried.
She took extra precautions now, like questioning Seth on whether or not she needed to carry a

squirt gun filled with holy water. When he wouldn’t stop laughing she’d brought out the super-soaker
and the rosary beads. That got him to stop and take her seriously.

Mostly.
She still didn’t know much about what Seth was. Both Abby and Seth were remarkably tight-lipped

about it. She didn’t even know if he was the only one of his kind, or if there were more of them out
there. She had her suspicions, but that was all they were.

There was just something about the way Seth and Dante interacted, the way they glanced at one

another, that spoke of a connection deeper than friends. Oh, there was nothing loverlike or anything.
Just a hunch, a pinch of something different, yet the same, about the pair that made her instincts twist
and shout.

Beep. “Elizabeth, it’s Mother. Give me a call when you get in. Paul and I want to discuss

something with you.”

Yay. Not. There were no goodbyes from her mother, and Beth had long ago stopped expecting them.

Her parents disapproved of her life choices, and she returned the favor. They would have preferred
she become a lawyer or a doctor rather than a private investigator. She preferred them to figure out
that they were both better off living alone. Both had been divorced...

God, Beth had lost count of the number of times her parents had been married and divorced. Her

mother’s latest, Paul, had lasted three years now, and Beth was willing to bet that he wouldn’t last
much longer. Her father, on the other hand, was currently single and living in Florida. They hadn’t
spoken in over a year.

When she did speak with her parents it was, at best, with cool civility. Part of her was certain they

blamed her for their fucked up lives. While sometimes she ached for something that had never been,
she’d learned early on to make her own family, the family of her heart. As far as she was concerned,
she had her friends, her heart sisters, and that was enough.

Beep. “Ms. Rand? My name is Jonathan Blake. My...my wife was murdered near your office.”
Beth blinked in shock.
No. Nothing in her life had ever gone this easily. She must have misheard—
“I want to hire you to investigate my wife’s death. She was a lawyer working for Todd Blessing’s

campaign, and I’m worried that it will somehow get swept under the rug for politics. Please, Ms.
Rand. Give me a call.”

Huh. That was unexpected. Looked like Detective Zucco would have to live with her annoying ass

after all.

Beep. “Beth? This is Lakisha Purvis. Nelson is in the hospital. He’s had a heart attack.”
Shit. She’d call Jonathan Blake back later.
Beth quickly tossed her mug in the sink and grabbed her parka.
She was going to be there for both Lakisha and Nelson, and to hell with anything else.

The Purvis family had given a damn about her when her own family hadn’t. They’d saved her ass,

put her on the right track and led the way to what Beth had become rather than the delinquent she’d
been heading toward. If not for Nelson and Lakisha, she’d probably be in jail right now. Nelson had
protected her when she’d been a teenager and shown her a better path, Lakisha had talked to her about
things her mother couldn’t be bothered with, and the pair of them had made sure that the wayward
teen hadn’t gotten lost in the disaster of her parents’ lives. From them, she’d learned what a real
relationship between loving people should look like.

If Nelson died, she would be losing the man she considered her real dad.
Without a second thought she raced to the hospital, the snow storm barely slowing her. Lakisha

would be crazy with worry over her husband. Nelson was young, barely in his forties. A heart attack
would more than likely end his career, and Nelson Purvis lived for his job. Retirement hadn’t even
crossed his mind.

Beth had an idea of how Nelson could keep working the job while taking care not to overexert

himself, but she had no idea if he’d accept her proposal or not. What she did might be grunt work, but
she still helped people in her own way. Whether that would be enough for the veteran cop or not, she
planned on offering him a place at Rand Investigations if the doctors told him he couldn’t return to the
force.

She pulled up to the hospital and raced toward the front desk, praying Nelson was all right. “I’m

looking for someone who was brought in with a heart attack. Nelson Purvis.”

She followed the directions the woman gave her and made her way to the waiting area. Lakisha

was waiting there, cradling a cup of coffee. Her normally dark skin was pale, her hands shaking. Beth
immediately took a seat next to the older woman and held out her hand. “What happened?”

Lakisha sniffled. Whatever tears came would be shed out here, where Nelson couldn’t see them.

He hated when his love cried, and the knowledge that she’d shed tears would upset him far more than
the heart attack did. “He left work soon after he spoke with you, saying he was tired. But the stubborn
bastard saw the driveway was starting to fill up, so he broke out the snow shovel. He was clearing
the driveway when he started feeling dizzy. Then his arm started to hurt, and he couldn’t catch his
breath. He called me at work, and I think I broke some laws to get to him.” Lakisha’s breath stuttered.
“I got him here as fast as I could.”

Fuck. That didn’t sound good. “Do they know if it was severe or not?”
“He’s in surgery. Bypass. We’ll know more soon.”
“We’ll take care of him, no matter how stubborn he gets.”
Lakisha’s answering smile was shaky at best. “Yes, we will.”
“Has anyone called the kids?” Lakisha and Purvis had two, both just in college.
“Chris is on his way. Betts is in class and hasn’t picked up her phone.”
“Is there anything you need me to do?” Beth would do whatever Lakisha needed, no questions

asked.

Lakisha rested her head on Beth’s shoulder. “Stay with me.”
Beth held the woman who was more a mom than her own had been. “No problem.”

Chapter Two

The paper this guy was after wasn’t green. Dante drove down Route 1 and thought about his
interview with Elizabeth.

Something was going on, something beyond a mere Shem kill. He hated to admit it, but Elizabeth’s

instincts were sound. The money and credit cards had been left behind, but that could have been
because of Elizabeth’s presence. Even Shem needed to blend in, with places to live and jobs. Hell,
some even married and had children. It was how other Shem were born, Shem who lived in the
shadows with their parents, learning about how to feed and how to hide.

If this Shem made its living off robbing others, it could have been distracted by Elizabeth’s sudden

appearance.

Either way, Dante wasn’t happy about Elizabeth’s involvement.
But...
If she was right...
Why would a Shem be rifling through the papers of its kill? Most of them fed and moved on.

Admittedly, some liked to play with their food, but unless he’d missed his guess this was the kill of
one of the flesh eaters, which meant he was more than likely dealing with a Shem Azar. They weren’t
exactly known for lingering over their meals. Healers turned cannibals, they reveled in the pain they
inflicted as they devoured the flesh of their still-living prey.

No, something was seriously wrong here, and as soon as Dante was done for the day he planned on

giving Gabriel a call.

First, though, he was going to visit his partner in the hospital. The frantic phone call from Lakisha

had frightened him. He’d raced through his morning coffee and was out the door before he’d even
combed his hair. Why hadn’t he listened to his messages when he’d gotten home the night before?

Instead, he’d sat in his family room, watching television and cursing Elizabeth’s name. He’d gone

to bed to dream of sweaty, rosy skin and gray eyes glazed with passion.

Fuck. He was getting hard just remembering it. Not the way he wanted to see Lakisha. Lakisha

would need someone there for her while Purvis was being taken care of, and Purvis would need to
know that Dante had his back, and his woman safe. Purvis would do the same for him if he had a wife
who needed looking after.

Hell, Purvis had tried to make friends with Lillian. Even Lakisha had tried. But Lillian had wanted

nothing to do with his partner and wife.

Dante should have known then Lillian wasn’t the woman for him. Thank God she hadn’t fought him

too hard during the divorce. He had more than enough ammunition to annihilate her.

Once he arrived at the hospital he headed straight for the information desk, flashing his badge

without a second thought. Hell, if it got him information on his partner he’d flash his ass. “I’m looking
for Nelson Purvis.”

The nurse quickly looked up the room number once she caught sight of his badge. “That would be

room three sixteen.”

“Any word on his condition?” Dante tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter. At least he knew

Purvis was still alive. That was something.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to ask the doctor that.”

“Thank you.” Dante headed for the elevators, glancing around for a glimpse of Lakisha. If she

wasn’t at her husband’s side, he bet she was badgering one of the nurses. The woman was scary-
tough and adored her husband.

A heart attack while shoveling snow. Dante couldn’t believe it. Purvis wasn’t that old—only forty-

three. But then, knowing Purvis, he’d headed home after work, started shoveling and pushed himself.
He wouldn’t have wanted Lakisha to have to deal with it.

Knowing Lakisha, once Purvis was feeling better, she’d have something to say about that.
He stepped out of the elevator and onto the third floor and headed toward Purvis’s room. Lakisha

stood outside, her shoulders hunched, her expression pinched.

She held out her arms to him, the smile Purvis had fallen in love with wide as she grabbed and

hugged him. “You’re late.”

“Hey, I have a murder investigation to run.” He kissed her cheek gently, then glanced inside the

room. Purvis was hooked up to some machines, the steady beep reassuring him. “How is he?”

“The docs say he’ll be fine, thank God. They only had to do one bypass. He won’t be back to work,

not for a while at least. He’s got months of therapy and rehab before they even think of putting him at
a desk, let alone chasing bad guys.” She glared at her husband, who smiled at them and feebly waved.
“And we are definitely buying a snow blower.” Dante heard the slight tremor in her voice.

“Think he’ll mind if I stop in? If he’s resting I don’t want to disturb him.”
“I know he’d be delighted.” Lakisha’s smile gleamed brightly against her dark brown skin. Other

than his mother, Lakisha was his favorite woman in the world. If she wasn’t married to Purvis, Dante
would have snatched her up in a heartbeat. He noticed the fine strain lines around her dark eyes, the
fear that she was trying so valiantly to hide.

Damn it. Where the fuck was Rafael? If his brother were here, he’d make sure Rafe got in to see

Purvis. The Azar would heal his friend and make sure nothing like this would ever happen again. “If
you need me, I’m here for both of you. Capisce?”

“Capisce. Make sure you say hello to your mama for me next time you see her.”
“I will. She’ll probably invite you over for dinner.” Knowing his mama, more than likely she’d

bring the Purvises dinner more than once. Dante smiled fleetingly at the thought. His tiny mother was
fiercely protective of her friends, and she’d made both Nelson and Lakisha family when Dante was
paired with the older cop. Hell, the two women had a weekly poker game going on with some of the
other police wives. His father had told him that she’d called him more than once, totally drunk and
begging for a ride home.

Dante was thrilled his parents had made friends with his coworkers. They both said it made them

feel easier about his being a cop. They got coping tips from the other wives and mothers, and had
formed their own little support group.

And the fact that his mama was a Knight in the service of Gabriel and the Nephilim meant he rarely

had to worry about her. She was small, but she was mighty, with the ability to summon weapons out
of thin air.

No one messed with Dante Zucco’s mama.
No one.
He entered the hospital room, smiling when he saw that Purvis was watching TV. “Don’t take him

back, hon,” Purvis muttered. “You know what an S.O.B. he is.”

Dante grinned. “Are you watching soaps again, Purvis?”

“What the hell else am I supposed to do when I’m stuck in this bed? It’s either this, cartoons or—”

Purvis shuddered, “—the news.”

Dante studied his partner, looking for signs of his illness. Purvis looked tired, with dark circles

under his eyes. His skin was paler than Dante liked, and his hands held a faint tremble, either from the
surgery or the drugs they were currently sending through his system. For all he was joking around, he
sounded weary. The man wouldn’t stay awake for much longer.

“Lakisha says she’s buying you a snow blower for Christmas.” Dante settled in the chair by the bed

and grinned at his partner. He tried to ignore the IV lines in Purvis’s arms, the oxygen tube up his
nose.

“Please. She got me an iPad. The woman can’t hide a gift to save her life.” Purvis shook his head,

smiling slightly as he looked at Dante. “I had some time to think while the docs were checking me out,
and I had a friend who was willing to look some stuff up for me.”

A friend? Shit. He hated it when Purvis got that evil look. It usually meant Dante was about to

suffer.

“Jennifer Blake was working on the campaign of Todd Blessing.”
“And? We knew that.” Dante poked at one of the wires sticking out of Purvis’s arm. “Are they

giving you the good drugs?”

“Asshole.” As Dante chuckled, Purvis continued. “What we didn’t know was that she was his legal

advisor and his right-hand woman for much of the campaign. She had fingers in all of their inner
workings.”

“Huh.” He leaned back in his chair and stared intently at his partner. Well, now. Maybe a Shem did

have a reason for going through the victim’s papers. Like the Nephilim, most of the Shem had day
jobs, lived normal—well, normal for them, anyway—lives. It was entirely possible a Shem had made
his way onto the Blessing campaign trail. What he’d been looking for on Jennifer Blake, though? That
was the real question. “We’ll need to interview everyone in the office.”

He was almost glad Purvis would be out of action for a while. Most of the time, when a Shem

couldn’t pull off a natural-looking death, Dante managed to get to the case before Purvis even saw it,
cleaning it up before his arrival on the scene. This time Elizabeth had called it in, and Purvis had
been right next to him when they’d gotten the call. None of his brothers had seen the kill so instead of
it being routed immediately to Dante it had gone out through normal channels. Dante had no chance to
clean up the crime scene and make it look more, well, human. It was going to be obvious to the M.E.
that someone had gone at the body with their bare hands and teeth. And when they got the DNA out of
those wounds...

Yeah. He was going to have to make sure Gabriel did something about that.
Purvis grimaced, but that damn evil gleam was still there. “You’re not going to like what you hear

next.”

“Why’s that?”
“The widower hired Elizabeth Rand to look into the death. Said he doesn’t trust the police to

handle the case because of his wife’s political ties. He’s worried that pressure from the top will
either cause us to bury her murder or force us to nail the wrong guy in order to make a quick arrest.”

Dante closed his eyes and once again forced himself not to grind his teeth. “Why do I feel like I’ve

been here before?”

“Jerry Hershman?”

Dante glowered at Purvis. “Didn’t I ask you not to mention his name to me? Ever?”
Purvis hummed a jaunty little tune under his breath. “Yes, I believe you did.”
“Then do me a favor—don’t mention it again.” Dante got up and began to pace the tiny hospital

room. He wondered briefly about how best to pull Rand off the case before she did any damage.

“One of these days you’re going to have to tell me everything that happened between you and

Hershman, you know. Other than Lillian, I mean.” Purvis shifted slightly on the bed, trying to make
himself more comfortable.

“You mentioned that damn P.I. again.” Dante glowered at his partner. He hated being reminded of

his ex-wife and her unfaithful ways.

“One of the best cops I know retired to become a P.I.” Purvis grinned at Dante.
“Ugh. Fine. Some of them are all right.” Especially hot-shot females who see things I missed.

Damn it.

“Looks like you’re stuck dealing with her.” Purvis grinned. Dante just knew the man was laughing

at him.

If Purvis didn’t come back to work, Dante was going to miss the hell out of him. The man and his

wife had been good friends ever since Dante had been assigned to him. Dante would miss the way
their minds seemed almost synced with each other.

The good thing was, Purvis was family. And Dante never left family behind. Even if Purvis was

forced to retire he’d still be in Dante’s life, whether Purvis liked it or not. Besides, Dante’s mama
adored them. She expected Nelson and Lakisha at his Aunt Rosa’s birthday party. Speaking of which,
he needed to call her and let her know what was going on. She’d be seriously pissed if he didn’t let
her know about Purvis’s condition.

Dante Zucco was afraid of very little on this earth, but he made it a point never to piss off his

mama.

He glared briefly at Purvis. “Not for long, if I have anything to say about it.”
“Lakisha loves her, by the way. And if Lakisha loves her, your mother is going to adore her.”
Dante froze in terror. No, no, no. If Lakisha got a hold of his mother, Dante was screwed. Lakisha

and Teresa Zucco got along like sisters from another mister. His mother would make him work with
Elizabeth just to please her BFF. He needed to get a handle on this before Elizabeth ever realized the
power those two women had over him.

He tried his best to ignore the drama being played out on the television, as the drama of two tiny,

powerful women took over his foreseeable future. Purvis’s gaze was beginning to shift back and forth
between him and the show. The man was addicted to his soaps, and mourned each one as it
disappeared from his screen.

He debated briefly whether or not to tease his partner by sticking around, but decided against it.

Purvis could pretty much keep himself out of trouble, tied as he was to the beeping machines. “Stay
safe, my brother.”

Purvis shot him an odd look and Dante flushed. Damn it. He’d slipped, using the farewell he used

for his Nephilim brothers. He’d never done that before—but Purvis had never been hurt before,
either.

“You too.” Purvis held out his hand and Dante took it, surprised at the strength in the other cop

despite his illness. “You watch your back out there. I don’t want to have to explain to your mama how
you got shot on my watch.” He shivered. “That woman scares me.”

Dante grinned. “You know I will.”
But first, he’d have a little talk with a certain annoying, sexy-as-fuck P.I. With any luck, it wouldn’t

take long to ensure which one of them was going to be leading this little dance.

* * *

“Anything else you’d like to tell me about, Mr. Blake?” Beth held her pencil over the paper, ready to
jot down any further thoughts the widower had. She studied Jonathan Blake while she waited for his
answer, sympathy stirring at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes. His short blond hair was a mess, as if
he hadn’t combed it in days instead of hours. His T-shirt and jeans looked like they’d been slept in.

As far as she was concerned, Jonathan Blake wasn’t a suspect—far from it. If he was a murderer,

then he was the world’s best actor.

She understood the pain he was going through. She’d dealt with enough missing persons cases that

turned out to be homicides to know that until they found the killer, he’d never be at peace.
Unfortunately, she’d had to deliver bad news more than once, and it always wrenched at her heart.
She hoped this time would be different, that this time she’d be able to find the answers necessary to
bring closure to this small, devastated family.

Until she could do a thorough background check, she couldn’t completely write him off, but so far

nothing odd stood out. The brief background check she’d done before arriving at his home showed he
was a network engineer who worked for Romanov Enterprises.

He had a medium build, and he moved well, like he’d been an athlete in his youth. From the

pictures framed on the mantel Beth saw evidence of a past in baseball during his college years.

He was an intelligent, attractive man in his mid-thirties who had been married to an intelligent,

attractive woman. And it showed. The Blake home was littered with happy family photos. Jonathan
and Jennifer standing on a beach in Hawaii, where they’d obviously been married. Jennifer holding
their only child, a tiny daughter named Hailey, one of the first pictures Mr. Blake had shown her.
Now four, she had her mother’s blue eyes and her father’s determined chin. There were shots of
Jonathan coaching little league softball. Next to that was a shot of Jennifer shaking hands with Todd
Blessing, the gubernatorial candidate. Blessing’s campaign poster stood between them, his wife
smiling at his side.

If anyone had led a charmed life, it apparently had been Jennifer Blake. A husband who adored her,

a child, a home and a fulfilling career that was tumbling her straight toward a life in politics. She’d
had it all.

So the question was, who had wanted to take it away?
Beth glanced out the window then grimaced. Dante’s boring beige sedan pulled up to the curb. It

was such a cop car. It practically screamed unmarked, right down to the discreet cop lights in the
back window and the Fraternal Order of Police license plate. “The police are here, Mr. Blake.
Detective Dante Zucco. I’m acquainted with him. Would you like me to talk to him for you, or would
you like to answer his questions?”

“I’ll talk to him, thank you. Anything to find out who murdered my wife.” Jonathan Blake walked to

the front door and opened it just as Dante hit the front step. Beth was two steps behind her client.

“Detective Zucco.” She kept her tone as bland as she could. She’d expected him to show up at

some point, but she’d sort of hoped she’d be on her way out the door before then.

He eyed her warily, his expression, as usual, unreadable to her. “Elizabeth.”
She refused to show him just how much the sound of her name, said in his deep voice, affected her.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

“I went to see Purvis.”
“Ah.” Of course he’d gone to check on his partner, and of course Purvis had told him she’d been

hired by Mr. Blake. She just hoped Dante wasn’t going to give her any trouble. She’d much rather
work with him than against him. “How was he? When I left, he was sleeping.”

Did Dante’s expression actually soften? Hell, monkeys might fly out of her ass any moment now.

“He was awake and talking, but tired.”

She nodded, still worried about her old friend. “I’ll check on Lakisha later. She must be

exhausted.”

“Call first. I talked her into going home and catching some sleep.”
“Good. She needs it.”
Dante turned away from her to Mr. Blake, holding out his badge. His expression was once more

purely professional. “Detective Zucco, Mr. Blake. May I come in, sir? I’m certain Ms. Rand informed
you of who I am.”

Mr. Blake waved him inside. He seemed much more comfortable with Dante after listening to their

interaction. “Yes, of course. By all means, I know you must have some questions.” Mr. Blake waved
them both into his living room.

“Mr. Blake, first I’d like to say I’m sorry for your loss.” Dante sat on the sofa, his gaze darting

around, probably picking up the same information Beth had gotten.

“Thank you.” Mr. Blake’s face fell as he took a seat across from Dante.
“Mr. Blake, I have some questions concerning the death of your wife. I want you to know that

they’re routine questions, ones we always ask in these types of cases, so please bear with me.”

Beth was surprised at the sympathy in Dante’s voice. She hadn’t expected him to pull the

Sympathetic Cop routine. She’d expected him to be cool, all business. She was willing to bet her
favorite comfy sweatshirt that Purvis usually played the good guy.

Dante flipped open his notebook, pen poised over paper. “Where were you today at four p.m.?”
Jonathan Blake’s eyes closed in pain. “I was with my daughter. We were shoveling the driveway

so Jennifer could get her car into the garage.”

Dante made a note. “And this can be confirmed by the neighbors?”
Mr. Blake nodded. “Yes.”
Dante made another note. “Can you tell me about the people your wife worked with? Did everyone

at the campaign office appear to get along?”

“Everyone was eager to see Todd Blessing win the campaign next November. Everyone was on

board with that specific goal in mind. He came so close last election that they decided to get
everything up and running early. They had a skeleton staff, but it’s a good one, tight.” Mr. Blake
swallowed, his face contorting in grief. “Jennifer, especially, wanted to see him win. The two of them
have been friends for the last seven years, ever since we all worked together at Romanov
Enterprises.”

“So you know Mr. Blessing outside your wife’s work with him?” Dante’s pen poised over the

paper.

“Yes. He and his wife are friends of ours. They’ve been over for dinner several times in the past.”

He glanced at Elizabeth. “It was because of Todd that I hired Ms. Rand. I don’t want political
pressure to keep me from finding out why my wife died, even if it turns out it was some random act
and not connected to the campaign. I just want the truth.”

Dante nodded sympathetically. “I can understand that, Mr. Blake. I’m going to do my best to make

sure that happens.”

“Thank you.” But Jonathan Blake didn’t seem convinced, and she understood why. Dante might

want to find the truth, but there were those with far more power than he had who could stop him.

That was where Beth came in.
“Was there anyone in the office she was especially close to? Someone she might have confided

in?”

Mr. Blake seemed to think about it for a moment. “Candace. Candace Grahame. She was Jennifer’s

secretary. The two of them were fairly close. Other than that, I can’t think of anyone.”

Dante made a note of the names.
Beth already had them on file and had an appointment to speak with the people at Mrs. Blake’s

place of work the following afternoon. “Can you think of any reason why someone would have been
rifling through your wife’s briefcase on the evening she died?”

“Jennifer kept all confidential documents in a safe in her office. She very rarely brought paperwork

home with her, but if she had, it might be the reason someone wanted her dead. Like any other
political campaign there were people who didn’t want to see Blessing win. Maybe one of them
thought...” Jonathan Blake began crying softly. “I want the man who murdered my wife, Detective.”
He put his head in his hands, sobbing quietly.

Beth stood and dropped a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll find him,

Mr. Blake. We’ll do everything we can.” She turned to look at Dante only to find him staring at her
with an enigmatic expression.

“Is there anything you can think of that might assist me in this investigation?” He asked the question

of Jonathan, but he looked directly at Beth as he asked it.

“You mean something other than what I’ve told you?” Jonathan lifted his head then shook it. His

hands were tightly clenched in his lap. “No. I wish I could tell you something, but I don’t know
anything more.”

The pitter patter of tiny feet on the stairway caused them all to turn. A small girl stood there.

“Daddy?”

Jonathan winced, his expression filled with pain of a new sort. “Excuse me.” He stood and went to

the little girl. “Yes, sweet pea?”

“When is Mommy coming home?” The child looked trustingly up at her father.
Beth watched as Jonathan Blake struggled to give the child an answer that wasn’t a lie. “Can we

talk about it when Daddy is done with his guests, sweetie?”

“But Mommy promised me she’d take me to the skating rink, Daddy. She said she’d show me how

to do figure eights.” The little girl’s lip quivered as her blue eyes began to fill with tears.

“I know, baby, I know.”
“Did Mommy have to go to work?” The question was asked with the air of a child who is used to

being disappointed by their parent, and Beth’s hands clenched.

She knew all about childhood disappointment. It was one of the reasons she and Andi used to

coach girls’ softball together at the local YMCA and why she was trying to get Andi back into it. The

two of them had a lot to give to girls who didn’t have the best home life. While Beth’s parents had
been at best absent, Andi’s had gone the other way, driving her insane with rules and restrictions and
physical punishments.

It was a miracle they’d both turned out sane.
Jonathan slowly shook his head. “No, baby. Mommy’s not at work.”
Something in his voice must have scared her, because the little girl began to cry. “I want Mommy!”
Jonathan hugged her close. “So do I, sweetie. So do I.” The little family stood there on the steps,

oblivious to their surroundings, totally caught up in their grief. Beth didn’t have the heart to interrupt
them.

Dante didn’t have that problem. “Perhaps we should see ourselves out.” He folded his notebook

and stood, taking Beth’s arm and guiding her to the door. He placed his card on the table and grabbed
Beth’s coat. “I’ll contact you as soon as I know anything. If you think of anything, or anything seems
out of place, please feel free to call me.”

Jonathan lifted his head from his daughter’s long enough to nod acknowledgement. “Thank you.

Both of you.”

Beth’s last glimpse was of the two of them huddled together on the stairs, crying quietly together

just before Dante closed the door. She pulled her coat on and followed him to where they’d both
parked their cars.

He stared at her from over the roof of his car. “I don’t want you on this case.”
Oh, they were not going down this road. Not again. “Really? I’d never have known.”
“What do I have to do to get you to turn this case away?” His face was totally readable for once,

the calculation marking it raising her hackles.

She shook her head. “Sorry, can’t do it. Professional integrity, and all that. Besides, I already

accepted the retainer.”

Dante came around his car and stalked toward her. She was startled when he grabbed hold of her

upper arms, shaking her lightly. “Listen to me, Rand. Get off the case. Don’t make me say it again.”

She glared up at him, ready to take him on if she had to. “Take your hands off me.”
He released her immediately and took a step back, his expression startled.
“You ever lay your hands on me again and I will break your fingers, you got that?” No way was she

going to let the sexy cop manhandle her. No one touched her without her permission.

He stared down at her, his expression hurt. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
She blew out a breath and adjusted her glasses.
“Damn it, Elizabeth. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do I?”
His expression completely closed off, and for just a second Beth regretted what she’d said. “Get

off the case, Rand.”

“Fuck off, Zucco.”
He snarled as he got into his car, slamming the door shut, taking off in a squeal of ice and bad

temper.

Beth took a deep breath and walked next door to the neighbor’s house. She had work to do, and to

hell with a certain cop who didn’t want her to do it.

Chapter Three

Jesus Christ. She’d thought he would harm her. He was actually hurt that Elizabeth Rand thought he
would lay a hand on her in anger.

He winced.
Damn it. He had pretty much done just that. He should have told her what he was, then she would

have known he’d never have truly hurt her. He could tell her what he’d seen at the crime scene, the
hazy green miasma of a Shem more than apparent to someone like him. Maybe then she would have
listened to him. Now, she’d probably hunt the fucker just to give Dante the proverbial finger.

She wasn’t equipped to go after a Shem. The thought of an Azar feeding on her soft flesh, or that

Angelus he’d been hunting causing her pain while draining her life force made him growl. She
shouldn’t be chasing after monsters, she should be protected from them. And it was his job to see to it
that nothing harmed a hair on her stubborn, pain in the ass head. Telling her exactly what he was,
bringing her further into their world, would only put her in more danger than she already was.

She’d killed one Shem. If she came to their attention, if they found out she, a human, had managed

to take one of them out, she’d be hunted like no other.

He blinked in shock as flames wrapped around his hands, scorching the steering wheel.
He hadn’t lost control of his powers since he’d been a kid and set fire to his room because his

brother wouldn’t share his Legos. Gio had refused to speak to him for a week after that. Thank fuck
his brother had come into his powers before Dante. Gio was a Legionnaire, born with inhuman
strength and endurance. He’d gotten them both out of the burning room safely and even managed to get
the fire extinguisher, putting out the small blaze even as he yelled for their mother.

Gio still hadn’t forgiven him for melting his Teddy Ruxpin. Dante had hated that bear. It was

always staring at him—those eerie bear eyes big and brown and full of hidden rage. Dante shivered.
He still had the occasional nightmare that Teddy would come to exact his revenge for his fiery death.
It didn’t help that his brother would put Ozzy Osborne tapes in it when Dante was trying to sleep.

Creepy-ass bear.
Shit. Dante missed Gio like crazy. Gio and Sasha—the third member of Gio’s cell—were out

looking for Rafe, their missing member. They’d been hunting for months, searching for any sign of
Rafe, but they’d had no luck in finding him.

Dante just prayed that they found him soon.
Dante was afraid that when they finally got Rafe back, the gentle healer they all knew and loved

would be gone. If he was in Shem hands, they would torture him, attempt to turn him. It was possible,
if they hurt him enough, if they brainwashed him through enough pain, that Rafe would turn aside from
everything he loved and feed from a mortal. He would turn into one of them, forever lost to the
Nephilim and the family Gabriel had built. If that failed, they would kill him. If Rafe hadn’t turned but
was still alive...

Dante didn’t even want to think about what that meant.
Pulling up in front of Gabriel Viator’s home, he wasn’t surprised to find Damien’s car was already

there. He stomped into the house, irritated by Elizabeth, Rafe’s continued absence and god damn
Shem.

“And a cheery good morning to you too.” Seth grinned. It was obvious the Angelus hadn’t been

there for long. His shirt, which he had to take off in order to fly, was on, and he was carrying a half-
filled mug of coffee. The bright red cheeks he usually sported from flying in the winter chill were
present, a sign he’d only just arrived.

Damien grunted out a greeting, his attention focused on his laptop.
Seth pointed toward the kitchen. “Donuts are that way, my brother.”
Dante flipped him off.
Then he headed for the kitchen. What could he say? Gabriel always made sure there were some

filled with that apple cinnamon stuff Dante loved so much. He ignored Seth’s laughter as he came
back into the room with a cup of coffee and his second donut. “Where’s Gabriel?” No one ever
dreamed of shortening Gabriel’s name to Gabe. No one. There was something about the man that
didn’t invite the intimacy of a shortened name.

Though if anyone had the balls to do it, it would probably be Seth.
“He’ll be here in a moment.” Seth’s expression turned serious, the same expression he had when on

a hunt. “I think the Hidden Springs leader has finally contacted him. Eli might finally be available to
help look for Rafael.”

Damien grunted again. He had that look on his face that said he was chasing something important.
“Good. With Gio and Sasha looking for Rafe physically, and Eli searching for him spiritually, we

have a chance of getting him back alive.” Seth’s brother Eli was an Oracle, one of the angel-born who
could see the future. He belonged to the Hidden Springs cell, Seth’s home-cell. If anyone could tell
them whether or not Rafe was still alive it was Eli.

Seth whistled. “Sasha’s going to mutilate whoever has been holding Rafe.”
Both men shuddered. Sasha was almost as scary as Dante’s mother, and he was fiercely protective

of his teammates. He considered Rafe and Gio family.

Hell. Dante’s mother had been the one to train him. She’d insisted on it when she realized Giovanni

was planning on pairing with Sasha and Rafe.

“Good afternoon, Dante.” Gabriel Viator entered the room, his golden hair gleaming in the bright

light streaming through his windows. His unusual violet eyes had darkened to a deep purple—a sure
sign he was unhappy. The archangel settled in his usual spot in front of the fireplace, and stared at the
three men before him until even Damien looked up from his computer, concerned. “Eli is coming.”

Seth swore under his breath. “Then Rafe is in worse trouble than even we thought.”
“At least we know he’s alive.” Damien nodded toward Gabriel.
Gabriel’s smile was grim. “I know he is alive, as I know with all of my Nephilim. But I cannot tell

you where he is, or what condition he is in.” And it was obviously just as frustrating for Gabriel as it
was for the rest of them.

“You’re doing everything you can, Gabriel. If you could have found him, he would be home by

now.” Trust Seth to be the one to comfort an angel.

From the expression on Gabriel’s face, the effort was appreciated. “He would be.”
Damien grimaced. “Damn it. I was praying the son of a bitch was sitting on a beach somewhere,

sipping mai tai’s and laughing his ass off at all of us while getting laid.”

“I’m afraid not.” Gabriel sighed wearily. “And until he returns, both Sasha and Gio are unavailable

for patrol.”

“Meaning we need to step up our game.” Dante shot Seth a sympathetic look. The man’s wife was

due to pop out a baby soon, and his life would change dramatically.

“Abby understands.” Seth smiled softly.
Of course Abby did, but that was beside the point. “If you need some time, we could work with

Eli.” Someone would have to partner with him, and Dante was willing to look after him. Hell, it was
better than pairing him with Piotr. Only Micah was willing to work with him, the Cambion making
everyone else far too nervous. The cold son of a bitch would turn on them someday, Dante just knew
it.

“We’ll see.” But from his expression Seth wasn’t planning on going anywhere.
“Dante.” He turned to find Gabriel’s penetrating gaze focused on him. “Tell me about the latest

killing. It was an Azar?”

Dante paled. “You don’t think—”
Gabriel shook his head immediately. “No, I don’t. Rafe hasn’t turned.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am, Dante. If Rafe was lost to us, I would know.”
He was reassured by the serene certainty in the archangel’s voice. “Thank you, Gabriel.”
“The Azar, Dante.”
He filled Gabriel in on what Elizabeth had seen, the bloody wound in the victim’s chest, the green

miasma around the kill. “I think it was an interrupted Azar attack. The shape of the wound and the
way the body was mutilated makes me think he was planning on eating her heart.” Dante shivered.
Blech.

“And this human, this Elizabeth Rand. What of her?”
“I can answer that.” Seth came out of the kitchen, having gone to refill his mug. “Beth knows what I

am, what the Shem are. She’s the one who killed that Chameleon, remember?”

Gabriel focused once more on Dante. “Good. Work with her. Keep her safe. It’s possible the death

of the Chameleon has put her on their radar. I won’t lose someone who protected one of our own.”

“Shit. You think he attacked the victim outside Elizabeth’s place of work because he wanted her to

find the body.” He cursed under his breath. Humans didn’t kill Shem. It was always the other way
around. Such a thing could fascinate the Shem, cause them to try and find out how she’d managed to
take one of them. It was the very thing he’d been terrified of all along.

“And as I doubt the good P.I. will simply sit back and allow you to protect her...” Gabriel’s voice

trailed off.

Merda. Gabriel was right. Elizabeth would rush in where angels feared to tread. That urge to

protect her solidified into something more, something deeply tied to the attraction he’d tried to deny
for months. The Shem would not touch a hair on her head. Not on Dante’s watch. “I’ll take care of
her.”

In more ways than one.

* * *

Beth was going to wind up in jail for murder.

“...and so I said, Marge, I said, if he really, really loved you, don’t you think he’d call or

something?” The blonde flipped her hair in the classic bimbo move. “And she said...”

Candace “Call me Candy” Grahame was a petite woman with a greedy, sparkling blue gaze that

devoured anything that looked like office gossip. She ate it up with a hunger Beth reserved for Sam’s

homemade peanut butter brownies. Unlike Beth’s adoration of chocolate peanut-butter goodness,
Candy was willing to share with anyone who stopped in front of her long enough for her to open her
mouth.

Candy was also the victim’s secretary. If anyone knew what was going on in Mrs. Blake’s office, it

should have been her. Which explained why Beth’s feet were currently nailed to the floor, listening to
the inane chatter of the Queen of Candyland.

Why she was at the receptionist’s desk instead of in the back room, Beth didn’t know. She just

wished the blabbermouth would shut up for two seconds so Beth could ask a god damn question.

“...and he was holding her purse, and it was so cute. So I told her...”
Beth was ready to drown Candy in her diet iced tea.
“...and I really think she needs to lay off the Botox...”
She wouldn’t be surprised if Candy was exactly the kind of woman Dante favored—pretty and

brainless. She tried valiantly to hide a wince as Candy giggled again.

The offices of Todd Blessing’s political campaign were set up much as she’d expected. A few

beige cubicles, a couple of doors leading to the back offices, and the reception desk where, lucky her,
Candy sat, ready to spew anything and everything that entered her empty, useless head.

Shoot me now.
“...who does she think she is, Lady Gaga? Nobody wears that these days...”
All Candy needed was the snapping gum and the finger twirling in her hair, and the brainless bimbo

image would be complete.

A tingling sense of awareness went through her, one that she felt only in the presence of a certain

aggravating police officer. The warmth that swept through her was odd, considering the cold air that
rushed through the open doorway. Shivering, she turned her head slowly and saw Dante enter the
office, pulling off his thick gloves and looking around with a grim expression. She tried to ignore him
and turned her attention back to what Candy was blabbing.

“...and so when I saw Jennifer against the window blind with another man, I was like, holy shit,

little miss perfect is—”

“Whoa, back up. What was that about Mrs. Blake?” Suddenly, the frivolous Candy had her full

attention.

Unfortunately, she no longer had Candy’s. The receptionist sat straight up in her chair, her gaze

becoming wide and hungry. It looked like Candy had seen something she wanted to lick like a
lollipop. “Well.” The blonde wiggled in her seat. “Hello there, sir. What can I do for you today?”
Candy’s eyes gleamed as they ran over Dante’s form.

Dante held up his badge. “Detective Dante Zucco, New Castle P.D. I have a few questions to ask

about Jennifer Blake’s murder.” Dante took a seat next to Beth and proceeded to charm the socks off
Ms. Candy Grahame.

“Candace Grahame, Detective Dante.” The suddenly breathless quality of Candy’s voice had Beth

rolling her eyes in disgust. “And I’m willing to tell you anything you want to know.”

That was it. Beth was gonna hurl from too much Candy.
Dante flashed a smile at the already smitten Candy. “Ms. Grahame—”
“Please, call me Candy.” Candy batted her baby blues at Dante.
“Candy, then. Candy, can you remember anything unusual happening around the office right around

the time that Mrs. Blake was murdered?” Dante opened the ever-present notebook and looked

intrigued as Candy broke into the same gossip Beth had been subjected to for the last half hour.

Dante, however, seemed determined to hear it all. He nodded in all the right places, shook his head

in disbelief at some of the goings-on of her coworkers, and managed a sympathetic smile when Candy
told of how she’d been all but ignored by the hunk of the office, Robert Kensington, in favor of plain-
Jane Louise.

Beth surreptitiously checked her notes. Robert Kensington worked as the PR manager for the

campaign. He was thirty-two years old, unmarried and had no children. According to Candy, he dated
anything that would say yes, but Beth was inclined to take that with a grain of salt.

Beth sat silently and watched the play by play as Dante questioned Candy. She seethed, trying

desperately to understand why Candy’s flirting bothered her so much, or why Dante’s polite response
bothered her more. She felt much better when she pictured grabbing Candy by her blond curls and
repeatedly beating her face into the desk. It might shut her up for two seconds.

Might.
“...and so when I saw little miss perfect with another man, I wondered if her husband knew about it

or not.” Candy flashed a brilliant smile at Dante.

“Could you tell who the other man was, Candy?” Dante asked, his eyes intent on Candy’s face.

Shockingly, they didn’t seem glazed at all.

Maybe he really did have a taste for Candy after all.
Blech.
Candy shook her head sadly. “Well, to tell you the truth, no I couldn’t. I mean, I wanted to keep my

job, you know? I didn’t get close enough to see who she was with.”

Dante made a small note on his notepad. “Height, build, anything?”
Candy bit her full lip, making a big show of thinking back. She completely ignored Beth. “Um,

taller than Jennifer by at least five inches.” She eyed Dante up and down appreciatively. “Kind of
makes me think of you. You know, same build, same height.” Candy sighed dreamily. “Same broad
shoulders.”

Dante made a big show of closing his notepad with reluctance. “I want to thank you for all your

help today, Candy.” He stood and reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a business card and
handed it to her. “If you can think of anything else, anything at all you need to tell me, you can reach
me at this number.”

Candy took the proffered card delicately, then put it into her bra.
Beth’s eyes nearly popped out of her head in disbelief. She forced herself to turn away before she

burst out laughing.

“Thank you, Detective,” Candy said breathlessly, her hand slowly coming out of the top of her

shirt. “I’ll be sure to call you if I can think of anything I want you for.”

Beth glanced up just in time to see the amusement on Dante’s face. “You be sure to do that, Candy.

It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Dante held out his hand. Candy grasped it warmly and batted her lashes at him. “It was certainly a

pleasure to meet you, Detective.”

Beth took a deep breath and decided it was time to move away. Far, far away. She was surprised

to see Dante move with her. “Careful, Dante,” she muttered. “Too much Candy will give you
cavities.”

She saw his lips purse out of the corner of her eye as he tried to suppress a laugh. “Ah, but what a

sweet way it would be to go.”

She looked up at him in outrage before she could stop herself, and was surprised at the knowing

look he shot her. She turned her head away and began to seethe all over again. “If you want to rot your
teeth on Cotton Candy, go right ahead.” As nonchalantly as she could she flipped open her notebook.
The next person on her agenda was Robert Kensington. He was the only man who seemed impervious
to Cotton Candy, unlike some detectives she could name. She started to look around the office for
Kensington, trying her best to ignore Dante as he stood silently beside her.

“I’ll make you a deal, Elizabeth.” His quiet voice sent a shiver down her spine, which she

ruthlessly suppressed. “You talk to half the office, I talk to half the office, and we get together over
dinner and compare notes. You don’t hold back, I don’t hold back, we halve each other’s legwork.
Deal?”

Beth stared at him. She only had one answer for his abrupt one-eighty. He’d been replaced by a

body-snatching alien intellect that was using him for its own nefarious purposes. “Why are you
suddenly being nice to me? You hate the fact that I’m on this case.”

Dante shrugged. “Purvis. Besides, you’re already on the case. I can’t keep you off of it—at least

legally—so it makes sense to utilize your skills as well as my own.”

She studied him. As annoying as he could be, he was a damn good cop. “Fine, but you’re buying.”
She couldn’t miss the triumph that flashed across his face just as she turned away.
Dante Zucco was up to something, and Beth was going to find out what.

Chapter Four

The stench of Shem was all over the building. It sickened him, the knowledge that a Shem was
working so closely with unguarded humans. Unless the Nephilim caught him, the odds were that each
and every one of these people would die by its hands.

There was one, however, Dante actually wanted to serve up on a silver platter with an apple in his

mouth. He glared at where Elizabeth was questioning one of the victim’s coworkers and gritted his
teeth.

If the figlio di puttana didn’t stop touching her Dante was going to rip his dick off.
Dante watched as Elizabeth handled the human octopus known as Robert Kensington. He was

positive that if they hadn’t been in a roomful of people with a police officer standing right there,
Kensington would have pushed Elizabeth onto the desk and tried something that would get him
slapped with an assault charge at best.

If the man didn’t stop trying to chase his new partner across the desk, Dante was going to barbecue

his ass.

Elizabeth managed to dodge yet another attempt to get her phone number, but Dante could tell her

temper was beginning to fray. If this bozo knew anything at all about Jennifer Blake, he wasn’t
talking. Odds were, in fact, that if Blake were cheating on her husband, Kensington would be at the
top of the list.

Dante’s smile became more and more rigid as Kensington got more and more obnoxious. “I still

can’t believe such a beautiful, intelligent woman is a private investigator,” Kensington said silkily as
he ran a finger down the side of her arm. “What made you decide on such a hard, dangerous job when
you could have been anything you wanted to be?” Kensington smiled winningly, obviously hoping to
get somewhere with Dante’s partner.

Dante waited for the answer. It wasn’t long in coming.
Elizabeth stared blandly back. “I like big guns.”
Dante choked on a laugh. It wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting, and apparently neither had

Kensington. The man looked shocked for a second before that same smarmy expression covered his
face.

Jesus Christ, did anyone around here work, or were they all sex maniacs?
She flipped her notebook to a fresh page. “Now, about Jennifer Blake—”
“Ah, right, Jennifer.” Kensington shook his head sadly. “It’s a pity about her. You were hired by

Jonathan, right?” Kensington watched her the way a Doberman would a large, juicy steak.

“That’s correct, Mr. Kensington. Do you know anything about Mrs. Blake that could help

apprehend her killer?”

“I’ll have to think about it, maybe over dinner. Would you like to join me?” Kensington shot her a

hungry smile that had nothing to do with food.

Dante’d had enough. “She’s with me.” He was getting supremely pissed off, but the surge of

possessiveness that roared through him was unsettling. He stared Kensington down, gratified when
the man blanched.

Elizabeth looked up at him in quick surprise before confirming his statement. “That’s right. We’re

partners.”

“Ah. I see.” Kensington settled on the edge of the desk. “All I know is everyone in the office knew

Jen was seeing someone else. Sort of a closely guarded public secret, if you know what I mean.” He
winked and smiled at Elizabeth.

She ignored him. “Any idea at all who she was seeing?”
Kensington shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. All I know is she turned me down when I offered. But,

hey,” he added, slightly maliciously, “some people don’t understand what they’re passing up, you
know?”

Elizabeth looked at him in complete disgust. “Some people know exactly what they’re passing up,

Mr. Kensington.” Dante could almost hear her ticking off the venereal diseases in her head as she
closed her notebook with a snap. “Thank you for your assistance. If you can think of anything else that
would assist in the apprehension of Mrs. Blake’s murderer, please contact Detective Dante Zucco at
the New Castle Police Department. I’m sure he’ll be willing to leave you his business card.”
Elizabeth turned away from Kensington’s outstretched hand and walked away to the water cooler.

Kensington whistled soundlessly. “Well, she’s a cold bitch, isn’t she?”
Dante slapped his card onto Kensington’s desk. He turned and walked without a word to the water

cooler, thoroughly disgusted.

He stepped up beside Elizabeth. “What an ass.” He leaned against the wall, his gaze intent on her

face.

She snickered. “As long as you aren’t pawing it like he did, you’re welcome to admire it as much

as you want.” She rubbed her rear, glaring at Kensington before turning her gaze back to Dante.

He had a sudden yen for fried calamari.
“Don’t be too surprised if he and Candy wind up together,” Beth drawled. “Something tells me they

were made for each other.”

Dante shook his head. “Nope. Candy would eat Kensington alive for breakfast.”
“And lunch, and dinner. She seems like the type who has a voracious appetite.” Elizabeth took a

sip of water, then reopened her notebook. “By the way, are you beginning to detect a pattern, here?”

“You mean the one where Jennifer Blake was cheating on her husband?”
Elizabeth pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Exactly. Wonder who the guy was?”
“That’s something we’re going to have to find out.” Dante pushed himself away from the wall and

scanned the room. “Okay, partner, who’s next on the agenda?”

“Let’s see.” She flipped through her notebook. “There’s Sylvester Oates, head of accounting,

Delilah Messinger, Blessing’s personal secretary, and Bryan Cranston, who works with Oates. Then
there’s Blessing himself, but it doesn’t appear that he’s in right now.”

He blinked. “You got all that from Mr. Grabby?”
“Please. While you were studying her cleavage, I was studying Candy’s appointment book. Mr.

Blessing, in fact, is currently getting his hair done.” Beth rolled her eyes. “You get the names of the
rest of the employees from Mrs. Messinger.”

He’d missed the appointment book, damn it, but watching Beth have a meltdown while he flirted

with Candy had been worth it. Still, Dante was impressed. “You take Oates, then, and we’ll do
Blessing together. Deal?”

“What about Cranston?”
Dante shrugged. “Whoever gets done first gets him.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Okay, partner.” She shut her notebook and strode toward the accounting

offices.

Dante watched her walk away, her stride determined, the sway of her hips capturing his undivided

attention.

Dante sighed and headed for the office of Todd Blessing. The Shem miasma was here as well, but

it wasn’t nearly as thick as out where the employees sat.

At least Todd Blessing wasn’t the Shem. If he was, the stench would be thickest here, in his

personal office. Dante’d have to check back where the accounting office was, see how thick it was
there.

Damn it. This splitting up thing wasn’t working for him, but what else could he do? He doubted the

Shem would make a move on Elizabeth in the middle of the day, in his own place of business and
surrounded by coworkers.

A motherly lady in a no-nonsense business suit sat at a desk outside Blessing’s office, smiling

sweetly. “Mrs. Messinger? I’m Detective Zucco with the New Castle Police Department. I’d like to
ask you a few questions about the death of Jennifer Blake.”

“Oh, of course, Detective.” The smile faded to be replaced by a sad expression he’d seen far too

many times. “Such a sad time for her family, and for all of us.” She gestured toward the chair near her
desk. “Please, have a seat. I’ll answer what I can.”

Wonderful. Finally, something today was going to go right.

* * *

Beth poked her head around the corner of the accounting office. She saw one gentleman pouring
himself a cup of coffee, and a young woman talking on the phone. She was willing to bet the short,
dark-haired woman was Oates’s secretary. The tall, dark, handsome man was probably Oates
himself.

Beth walked into the office and directly up the dark-haired man. He turned with a smile on his face.

“May I help you?”

Beth held out her hand. “Elizabeth Rand. I’ve been hired by Mr. Jonathan Blake to investigate the

death of Jennifer Blake.” The smile left Oates’s face, but his grasp was firm and unhurried. “May I
have a few moments of your time?”

“Yes, of course.” He looked at the young brunette. “Barbara, hold all of my calls for me, will

you?”

The woman nodded, and Oates led the way into his tiny office. He shut the door and motioned Beth

into a chair in front of his desk. Placing his coffee cup down, he seated himself behind the desk.
“What can I do to help you, Ms. Rand?” His tone was filled with concern.

“Just so you know, I need to ask these questions. You’ll get the same ones from the police, but I

like to be thorough.” Beth had no doubt that Dante would come in behind her at some point and ask
his own set of questions, but she wasn’t concerned about that now. She flipped open her notebook.
“Where were you on the night Jennifer died?”

“Home, with my kids. I left as soon as they announced that there’d be a state of emergency

declared. I didn’t want to be caught out in the storm.”

“And this can be confirmed by friends or neighbors?”
He thought about that for a moment. “I think I saw my neighbor, Ted, pull into his driveway, but I’m

not sure. You can ask my wife, though.”

She’d do that. “Can you tell me anything at all about Jennifer Blake? What she was like, in the

office and out?”

Oates leaned back in his chair. “Well, in the office she was the consummate professional. Always

on time, always on the ball. She was totally committed to getting Todd elected. Out of the office?” He
shrugged. “Who knows? I didn’t really see her outside of her working capacity. We didn’t exactly run
in the same circles.”

“Meaning?”
“Meaning, she was friends with Todd, while I was just the accountant. Meaning, she went to balls

and parties and cocktail hours, while I went home to my wife and kids.”

“And were you jealous of her success?”
“Success?” His eyebrows rose. “No. I wouldn’t call what she had success.” When Beth frowned,

he continued. “To me, success is heading home to my wife and kids at a decent hour but still being
able to make the mortgage payment. I don’t want to work eighteen-hour days while my wife takes the
kids to soccer. I want to be the one driving them all. Jennifer wanted... Well. Who knows what she
wanted, but I doubt it was the stable family life I’ve got. I don’t think she went home often enough to
really have a home.”

“Fair enough.” Beth made a few notes. “Any rumors or innuendos you may have heard attached to

her name?”

Beth glanced up from her notebook and caught the look of disapproval on Oates’s face. “I don’t

listen to gossip, Ms. Rand, especially anything that comes out of the mouths of the likes of Kensington
and Grahame. Kensington was annoyed that she turned him down, and Grahame was annoyed that
Kensington asked.”

She didn’t really agree with him about Ms. Grahame, but from the expression on his face he wasn’t

going to talk about anything outside Jennifer’s professional life, not without some serious proof,
anyway. “That was the impression I got. I just needed to confirm it. Thank you.” Beth settled back in
her chair. “How did you interact with Mrs. Blake?”

“Jennifer often requested financial files from my office for legal purposes. Sometimes she’d want

to have proof ready of exactly where a campaign contribution had come from, what it was being used
for, and that it did not exceed any legal limits imposed by the government. She wanted no hint of
scandal to attach itself to Todd’s campaign. She was extremely anal about that, despite the fact that
we have a couple more months to go before it becomes a real issue. Part of me admired that
dedication to Todd just as part of me cursed her out for the unnecessary paperwork.”

Beth made another note, nodding. “When was the last time she asked for those financial sheets?”
He grimaced. “Funny you should mention that. She asked for them three days before she died, and

I’ve been unable to locate any of them since then. I think she may have still had them on her when she
was killed.”

“How far back did the information go?”
“She asked for the financials dating back to the first of August.”
Beth felt herself growing excited. “Do you have copies of that data?”
To her chagrin, Oates shook his head no. “The redundant files got stolen the day after her death. In

fact, Todd was the one who reported the theft, since his office is where those files were stored.”

Interesting. Beth made some quick notes to get Dante to pull those police files. “Electronic

backups?”

“Wiped, and I’m not sure how it was done.” Mr. Oates sighed wearily. “In fact, that’s what I was

working on when you came in here. Somehow, someone in this office got to those copies before I
could.”

Beth tapped her pen against her notebook, trying to hide her excitement. “You don’t say.”
Now they were on to something.

* * *

Half an hour with Mrs. Messinger and Dante was ready to pull his hair out. She’d absolutely refused
to discuss anything real. She’d offered him cookies and coffee when he questioned her about
Blessing. She’d asked him whether or not he had children when he mentioned Blake, making
sympathetic noises about how all of this must be affecting Blake’s young daughter. He was about to
throw in the towel when Elizabeth joined him, looking far too smug for his liking.

Before he took her out to lunch he had to ask one final question. “Is there anything else you can tell

me about Mrs. Blake, ma’am?”

Mrs. Messinger shook her head sadly. “Oh my, no, Detective, I wish I did know something.”
Damn it. It was like pulling teeth from his nana. Every time she offered him a cookie or shot him a

disappointed glare he wanted to squirm in his seat like a guilty little boy.

Elizabeth tapped her pencil on her pad. “What do you know about the break-in the day after Mrs.

Blake died, Mrs. Messinger?”

Mrs. Messinger looked flustered. “Break-in?”
Apparently Elizabeth’s grandmother wasn’t the grandmotherly sort, because she wasn’t falling for

the guilt trip the way he had. She snapped open her notebook, ready to decimate the nice little old
lady. “Yes. The break-in where all of the financial files were stolen right out of Mr. Blessing’s
office. The one he himself reported to the police the day after Mrs. Blake died. That break-in.”

Dante watched a battle of wills occur between the two women. He held himself perfectly still, his

hunter’s instincts telling him that if he so much as twitched Elizabeth would lose vital information
they needed to solve this case.

He saw the moment when Mrs. Messinger conceded defeat. Her shoulders drooped, and her

expression turned sour. “Mr. Blessing walked in that morning to find that his office had been rifled,
but it wasn’t just the financial records that were taken. I’m not sure what all was missing, but he was
very distraught. He called the police in and told them what had happened. That’s how we found out
Mrs. Blake had been murdered. But I don’t know anything else. Mr. Blessing kept the door closed
while he spoke with police.” Mrs. Messinger shot him an annoyed glance, like the fact that she’d
cracked under Elizabeth’s stare was his fault. “You can check the officer’s notes.”

“Thank you. You’ve certainly been a big help.” Elizabeth smiled, but the expression didn’t reach

her eyes. “When will Mr. Blessing be back in the office?”

“I believe he’s stepped out for some lunch after his morning appointment. He should be returning in

about an hour and a half.”

“Please tell him that we’ll wish to speak to him then.”
“Mr. Blessing has a very busy schedule. I’m not certain when he’ll be available to speak with

you.” Mrs. Messinger smiled with total insincerity.

Dante decided to step in at that point. “This is a murder investigation. We want everything to go

smoothly, with,” he added as her face filled with indignation, “as little bad publicity as possible for
the candidate.”

She blinked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Elizabeth smiling cynically. She knew exactly

what he was up to. He just hoped that his idea worked, and Mrs. Messinger backed down.

He was lucky. The dragon guarding her knight stopped breathing fire. “I’ll pencil you in at two this

afternoon. Would that be convenient for you?” She was all business, already marking their names in
Blessing’s calendar book.

“Yes, that would be fine.” He placed his card on her desk. She barely glanced at it.
He and Elizabeth turned away, heading toward the door of the campaign office. “Want lunch? I’m

buying.”

Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise. “Aren’t we already doing dinner?”
He shrugged. “We both have to kill time until Blessing is available. Why not do lunch?”
She shrugged, wary. “No reason not to, I guess.”
She held open the campaign office’s door for him. He smiled at the small gesture. He knew it for

what it was. She was flush with success and asserting her dominance. “I gather that Cranston wasn’t
in? Or did the interview with both of them take up so little of your time?”

She glowered at him as the door shut softly behind her. “He was out to lunch. Maybe we’ll get

lucky and run into him.”

Despite the thick winter coat her hips swayed temptingly. “Yup. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Dante

held open the car door for her, amused at her confused frown. She slid into the seat, and Dante knew
in that moment he wanted to keep her right where she was.

He closed the car door and hurried behind the car, staring at her dark head the entire time. When

she waved at him impatiently he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He found even that little gesture
adorable.

Wait. Adorable?
He stopped dead, his hand on the handle of the car, and sighed as she gestured for him to hurry the

hell up. “I am so very fucked.”

* * *

He took her to the Golden Lotus, one of her favorite restaurants. It was a place she and her friends
often ate lunch at. She’d seen him in there once or twice when she ate with her friends, so maybe it
was a coincidence he’d chosen it.

Of course, when dealing with Dante, she figured there were no coincidences. He must want her to

feel comfortable before doing whatever it was he’d plotted.

“You learned about the break-in from Oates?” Dante asked once they’d ordered.
“Oh. What a brilliant piece of detective work, Detective. Is that why they pay you the big bucks?”

She batted her lashes at him in true Candy Grahame fashion.

He picked up his water glass and drank half of it. “One more crack like that and we’re eating

Dutch.”

Damn. How did he make her smile so often? He hid it well, but he had a good sense of humor, one

she wouldn’t mind seeing more of. “You learn anything from Mrs. Messinger?”

“Other than she makes a mean peanut butter cookie? Nope.”
“And you didn’t save any for me?” She tried her best to look outraged, but she didn’t think she’d

pulled it off because he suddenly grinned at her.

“At my dinner table, you snooze, you lose.”
“I’ll keep that in mind at dinner tonight.” Beth glanced over at the doorway when she caught sight

of a familiar red coat.

Oh shit.
Two of her best friends had just entered the restaurant. They paused and stared at her, shock on

both of their faces before Andi nudged Sam. Their gazes bounced between her and Dante, unholy glee
lighting their faces.

She glared at them for a split second before turning back to Dante with a bland smile.
Dante looked over his shoulder at the doorway. “Uh-oh.” He ducked a bit in his seat, trying to

make himself look smaller. An impossible feat, considering his bulk. “I know those two.”

Those two were Andrea Hancock, Piotr Romanov’s personal assistant, and Samantha Brody. Sam

and Andi were her closest friends, something that still surprised her. They’d stand by her no matter
what. Hell, they’d help her bury the bodies if she finally decided to lose her damn mind and off her
parents.

She wished she could tell them about what had happened with Abby. She needed them, their

advice, their concern. Even Sam’s quirky way of always looking on the bright side would make things
so much better.

But Abby had sworn her to secrecy, and while Beth understood that this involved Seth’s safety, she

still didn’t like it. It felt wrong not to share what had happened with Andi and Sam.

“Beth, Detective Zucco. What a pleasant surprise.” Andi couldn’t hide her interest as well as she

thought she did. She might fool others with her cool looks and exotic beauty, but Beth knew Andi. The
woman was about to die of curiosity. The brown-haired beauty sat next to Dante, her unusual
turquoise eyes alight with curiosity. Andi was far too genteel to ask what they’d just walked in on.

At least, she was too genteel to ask while Dante was sitting there. Beth wouldn’t be surprised to

find herself with a visitor in the near future. For all her sophistication, Andi was a twelve-year-old
girl at heart.

A tom-boy too. Something that would surprise anyone who didn’t know Andi well. With her sleek,

sophisticated hairstyle and her impeccable wardrobe, most thought she was nothing more than Piotr
Romanov’s arm candy.

If only they knew. Andi could run rings around most people, figuratively and literally.
Sam merely smiled shyly at the detective and wiggled her fingers hello. “Hi, Dante.”
Dante reacted the way most men did when confronted with the ethereal Sam. He smiled gently

before handing her a menu, just as eager to please and protect her as any other man. “Sam. It’s nice to
see you again. How’s the job hunt going?”

Sam made an adorable face, pursing her lips and blowing a raspberry. If Beth didn’t know better

she’d swear Sam had come straight from the pages of some magical girl manga. “Meh. I had a job
interview, but I’m waiting to hear back.” Her shoulder-length golden-blond hair gleamed in the shaft
of sunlight from the window next to them. Her delicate hands rested lightly on the tabletop. “I’m
hoping the salary will be at least a match for what I made at Wyatt Industries.”

Dante jolted in his seat. Beth knew why too. It was the mention of Wyatt Industries, the company

run by one of his friends. “That would be great.” Beth truly hoped Sam got the job. She’d been out of
work ever since being summarily fired from Wyatt. The reason given had been down-sizing, but Beth
wasn’t buying it. There’d been a hush-hush investigation, then... no more job. Sam had gotten several
interviews, and with her skills she should have landed a job by now, even at a lower pay rate.

Instead, she did freelance work for people like Beth.
Andi must have figured out something was going on, because she leaned forward and began to

speak solely to Dante. “So, detective. What’s the craziest case you’ve ever worked?”

Dante shot Beth a quick, irritated glance, but when she didn’t rescue him he sighed. “This one time

we had a guy show up at the precinct in nothing but honey and feathers...”

Beth suspected that someone at Wyatt Industries was giving Sam a bad reference, but there was no

way to prove it. She spoke softly, hoping Dante didn’t hear. Damien was a friend of his, but Sam was
hers. “You should keep Wyatt off your resume if this one doesn’t pan out.”

Sam immediately shook her head. “That would be lying.”
“Nope. Just tell people you were doing freelance work due to the economy. That’s not a lie, is it?”
“But...” Sam bit her lip. “You think I can’t get a job because of Wyatt?”
“...then he told the desk sergeant that his mama wore combat boots...”
Beth blinked, determined to ignore Dante’s outrageous story. “I’m almost certain of it.” Beth’s

instincts were rarely wrong. Sam had no problems finding jobs before Wyatt. After...

She couldn’t get a job as a grocery bagger.
“...then he mentioned the badger chasing him down Old Baltimore Pike...”
What the hell? Beth almost allowed herself to be distracted, but Sam’s puppy eyes kept her

focused.

Sam bit her lip nervously. “All right. I’ll kick Wyatt off my resume if this job interview doesn’t

work out.”

“Good.” Beth relaxed once more. Sam was sweet-natured and deserved to find happiness. “I might

have some work for you soon.”

“And that was my first trip to the psych ward.” Dante leaned back, grinning as Andi giggled.
“Oh. Good.” Sam seemed relieved.
Beth stared at Sam. That soft, dreamy smile hid a mind like a steel trap when it came to computers.

Sam could get lost for hours digging up obscure bits of data that no one else was capable of finding.

She decided to have a little chat with Sam after the Blessing interview. Maybe her friend could

find something she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d asked for Sam’s help on a case. Plus,
she was willing to bet Sam could use the money.

“Trust me, Sammie. I think the job interview is going to work out just fine.” Andi patted Sam’s

hand and ignored Beth’s curious gaze. “So, detective, what are you two up to, hmm?”

“Trying to catch the bad guys, ma’am,” Dante said in his best lawman’s drawl. He even tipped his

non-existent hat at her friends.

Andi laughed in delight. “I do love me a man in uniform.”
“The Blake murder?” Sam asked quietly, her gaze intent on Dante’s face. “We heard about it on the

news.” She turned her worried gaze to Beth. “When we heard about where it happened we were
worried about you.”

Beth patted Sam’s hand. Sam could be annoying with her dreamy ways, but she wouldn’t hurt a fly,

and she loved her friends deeply. She was loyal to the bone, and Beth treated her like the kid sister

she’d never had. “I’m fine, Sammie.” Beth winked at Sam. “But don’t ask me to discuss it with you. I
can’t.” Not yet, anyway. At least, not with Dante sitting right here. There was no need for the lovely
detective to know anything about Sammie’s hacking skills.

“Mmm. Not a very good lunch topic.” Andi grinned with delight as the waiter began placing the

dishes in front of them. He must have seen them sitting with Dante and Beth and prepared the usual
meal the women ordered. “I love this place.” Andi sighed happily, picked up her chopsticks and
began digging into her moo goo gai pan with relish.

Beth pulled out her notebook, absently writing down the things she needed Sam to do for her, and

how much she’d be able to pay her friend. Looking into the missing Blessing campaign funds would
be a good start. Beth often tossed work Sam’s way, but she knew it wasn’t enough to keep Sam in dog
kibble. She was afraid Sam really would do something illegal just to put food on her table. Sam was
getting dangerously thin, even on good days.

When she boxed over half her lunch, Beth wanted to howl in frustration. She couldn’t embarrass

Sam in front of Andi and Dante, but damn it. No one should have to live the way Sam did, not when
they had the brains and the dedication to take on almost any computer job out there.

Beth pushed her glasses up her nose. As soon as this damn Blake case was over, she was going to

find out the real reason Sam had been fired.

They would pay for making the sweetest person she’d ever met suffer the way Sam had.
As they left the restaurant, Andi pulled Beth aside. Sam rested against the counter with Dante as he

paid the bill, probably arguing that she could afford to pay for her own. Beth hoped Dante knew
better.

When she saw him pat Sam on the head and hand over his credit card to the hostess she sighed in

relief. She’d have to find a way to pay him back.

“So...”
Uh-oh. Andi scented blood in the water. “So?”
“Nice to see you out with a man.”
Beth glared at Andi. She was almost as much of a romantic as Sam, just less obvious about it.

“Hello, business lunch.”

“Mm-hmm.” Andi never could pull off a truly innocent expression. “Which is why you keep

looking at his ass.”

The man did have a fine rear end. She studied it for a moment, just to be sure. “I’ll admit, it’s frame

worthy.”

“I bet you could bounce quarters off it. And he’s got the dreamiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“I thought you preferred silver.” Andi had the hugest crush on Piotr. Too bad he wasn’t interested.

Although she had to give the man credit, because he never dated an employee. He showed up on the
society pages all the time with one woman or another, but not one of them worked for him or one of
his subsidiaries.

“You have to check the market before you buy.” Andi ducked away from Beth’s blow, laughing.

She turned it to a cough when Sam and Dante rejoined them.

Dante glared at them suspiciously. “Something going on?”
Beth shook her head. “Mm-mm.”
Andi did the same. “Nope. Nothing to see here, Officer.”
Thank God Dante didn’t push, but his suspicious expression said it all.

They left the two girls in the parking lot of the restaurant and headed back to the campaign

headquarters, but not before Andi made the universal sign for call me.

Chapter Five

Todd Blessing was a charismatic man of forty-five who knew he was destined for great things. He
was currently doing his best to make sure that everyone around him, Dante included, knew it as well.
He was a tall, massively built man, dark haired and dark eyed, who moved like an athlete. He was
dressed in a conservative silver-gray business suit and crisp white shirt with a silver-gray tie. His
brief welcoming smile revealed perfectly white teeth, with a small gap between the front two that
should have made him appear human but instead seemed just as staged as the rest of him.

He spoke with a quiet, insincere tone that put Dante on edge. His face was gravely concerned when

Dante and Elizabeth entered his office, turning down Mrs. Messinger’s offer of coffee.

Dante made sure he closed the door behind the secretary.
Blessing held out his hand to Dante. “How may I help you, Detective?” He shook Dante’s hand

firmly and then turned to Beth. “Anything, anything at all I can do to help Jonathan through this, please
let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message, Mr. Blessing.” Elizabeth settled herself in a chair and flipped

open her notebook.

Dante took the seat next to her and took out his own notebook. “I need to ask you a routine question,

Mr. Blessing.”

Blessing nodded.
“Where were you on the afternoon Jennifer Blake was killed?”
“At a fundraiser that wound up ending early due to the storm. You can check with the people there.

I’ll have my secretary get you a list.”

“What time did you leave the fundraiser?”
“About three in the afternoon. I went straight home. My wife will corroborate that.”
Dante made a note. He’d need to check the driving time between the location of the fundraiser and

the murder scene. “We understand that you found out about Mrs. Blake’s death when you filed a
police report the day after. Can you tell us anything about the robbery?”

Blessing appeared shocked. “You think the robbery had something to do with Jen’s death?”
Something about his reaction wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Blessing

had his “concerned politician” face on, and Dante couldn’t quite get a reading off him. Normally,
little things would give someone away. Most perps couldn’t keep still. Something always twitched
when they lied, but all the usual tells were hidden behind a sleek facade Dante couldn’t quite
penetrate. “We want to eliminate that possibility, of course. Can you tell me what happened?”

Dante tried to act cool and composed, but inside he was Snoopy dancing. Every instinct he had was

screaming at him at the top of its lungs.

This guy had something to hide. One of his close friends was robbed and murdered, and he was

acting like Dante had asked him about a fiscal budget issue.

Blessing sat back in his chair, obviously thinking. “Let’s see. I came into the office that day and

noticed that my office had been broken into. I immediately contacted the police, who came and ran an
investigation. I’m certain you have my statement on file, Detective.”

“The robbery is being handled as a separate case, Mr. Blessing. I wanted a fresh perspective on

what was happening here around the time of Mrs. Blake’s murder and immediately afterward.” He’d

have the file waiting for him on his desk when he checked in at the precinct, but until then he wanted
to hear it in Blessing’s voice. He wanted to watch his facial expressions, his body language. The man
was up to something, and Dante was going to find out what.

Too bad the Shem stench wasn’t nearly as thick in Blessing’s office. Dante would love to wrap this

case up in a nice, neat bow, but it wasn’t to be. Blessing couldn’t be the Shem. If he was, the stench
would be so thick Dante would be choking on it.

Blessing nodded, that false concern once more plastered all over his face. “Yes, of course. Of

course.” He sighed deeply, and for just a moment Dante saw genuine grief. “You see, it’s still such a
shock. Most of us here are still trying to get over the fact that Jen is gone.”

Dante nodded sympathetically, but this guy was not acting right. “I can understand that. Having a

close friend of the family as well as a business associate die in such a way can be difficult to deal
with. When was the last time you’d seen Mrs. Blake alive?”

Blessing’s flinch was almost imperceptible. “The day she was murdered. She left early for

personal business. She laughed on her way out the door about the snow.” He smiled wistfully. “She
said she’d rather be in the tropics.”

“She didn’t care for the snow?”
Blessing’s expression closed off again, becoming the plastic politician once more. “Not

particularly. She always said she’d move someplace warmer one of these days.”

Dante nodded. “I’m not particularly fond of the snow myself.” He flipped to a new page in his

notebook and studied Todd Blessing. “What can you tell me about the rumors that Mrs. Blake was
having an affair?”

Blessing paled, shocked. Dante watched as the man pulled himself back together. “Excuse me?”
Dante leaned forward. Maybe this was what Todd Blessing was hiding. If he knew about the affair

and chose to hide it from Jonathan there could be serious repercussions, and not just to his political
career. He’d lose Jonathan as his friend, and possibly run into issues with his own marriage. “The
entire office is buzzing with the gossip that Mrs. Blake was having an affair, probably with someone
in this very office. Have you seen or heard anything that might indicate that this was true?”

Blessing leapt out of his chair as if he’d been bitten on the ass. “Absolutely not! Jen was totally

devoted to Jonathan. She’d never betray him.” Blessing placed his hands squarely on his desk and
scowled at Dante. “If, and I mean if, Jen was interested in anyone other than her husband, she would
have left Jonathan first rather than have an illicit affair behind his back.”

“Unless her lover was married and didn’t want his wife to find out,” Dante said softly.
Blessing stared at him, his expression hard as stone. “This interview is over.” He stood and

walked to the door, opening it with a flourish. “I believe you can see yourselves out.”

Elizabeth and Dante left the office, the door closing behind them with a soft snick.
“Gee, Dante, didn’t anyone teach you subtlety at the academy?” She shook her head in amazement.
Dante looked grim. “Sometimes when you suspect something it’s best to spring it on the suspect

quickly and without warning. You’re more likely to get an honest reaction that way, especially with
someone like Blessing.” And Blessing, he was almost positive, had been Mrs. Blake’s partner.

Beth closed her notebook and shoved it back in her pocket. “You think he’s Jennifer’s secret

lover.”

Dante held the outer office door open for her. The light snow that had begun to fall was beginning

to coat the sidewalk. “I think he’s the best candidate for the job, yes.”

“For the record, Detective, I happen to agree. As the saying goes, the gentleman doth protest too

much.”

“He certainly doth.” Dante walked toward his car, lost in thought. “Did something else seem off-

kilter to you?”

“Let’s see. Only two people in the entire office called her Jen. Not even her husband calls her Jen.

He always calls her Jennifer.”

Dante brushed that off impatiently, though he mentally filed it for later examination. She was right.

Only two people had called her Jen, and both were male. Maybe she was having more than one
affair? “No, not that. Something else.”

“Like what?”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Something just felt...off. Let me think on it.” He got into

his car, making sure she was almost to her own before calling out, “See you tonight. My place. I’m
cooking.”

He drove off, leaving Elizabeth in the falling snow. He didn’t want to give her time to protest.
She’d held something back from him, something that had to do with Samantha Brody. The quiet,

intense conversation she’d had with Andi Hancock had piqued his curiosity. The way she’d stared at
Sam had clinched it. Dante intended to find out what that something was, but first, he had a stop to
make. It was time to put the most basic rule in motion. He picked up the phone, smiling when his
Nephilim brother picked up. “Wyatt here.”

“Damien. I have a little job for you.”
When in doubt, follow the money.
“Let me guess. You want me to dig around in the Blessing campaign’s financial records.”
“Yeah. I’ll need to get a subpoena on the rest of the information if it turns out it’s not Shem related,

but that could take a couple of days. Are you willing to help me out here, Damien?”

“I’ll look into it, but it might take a while.”
Dante stood. If he went the human route he wouldn’t need Damien. The computer and accounting

forensics team would take it from there. But since this was a Shem attack mixed in with human affairs,
Dante was willing to walk the thin gray line to try to keep the official channels in the dark as long as
possible. He’d rather the murder was officially unsolved and nab the Shem before he killed anyone
else than risk putting his coworkers in jeopardy. “Thanks, Damien. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get tickets to a Flyers game, and we’ll call it even.”
“I’ll get them later. I have...a date tonight.”
“Guh. A date? You? Who the hell did you have to pay for that?”
“Testa di cazzo. I’m seeing Elizabeth Rand.”
Silence. “Oh. Really. The private detective, huh?”
Damien’s tone was far too smug for his liking. “I have no idea what you’re thinking, but—” Dante

laughed as he drove off. Damien had hung up, no doubt dialing their brothers to fill them in on Dante’s
renewed love life.

Now he just had to make sure he wasn’t making a liar out of his best friend.

* * *

Detective Zucco lived in the cutest little Victorian-style house Beth had ever seen, complete with a

dainty front porch and bright gingerbread moldings. The house itself was taupe with dark green
shutters and bright white trim. The front yard was small, but the house had a two-car garage and a
porch swing she was dying to try out.

It was a typical suburban home, fitting in perfectly with the other houses surrounding it. Nothing

about it stood out.

It didn’t match the man she knew at all. Dante was anything but cookie-cutter and cute.
Dante opened the door, letting the warm light from inside spill out and envelope her. He held out

his hand for her coat. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Beth was intrigued. Did the inside match the outside? And if so, what was he trying to hide? This

should be the man’s sanctuary, a reflection of the person he truly was inside, but all she saw were
beige carpets and white walls. It was like he’d never really moved in. “Mind if I look around?”

“Sure, help yourself. I have to finish the pasta.”
“Thanks.” He took off, presumably toward the kitchen. His black T-shirt and jeans hugged his

body, and his feet were bare. She smiled as she caught her first real glimpse of the man, not the cop.
“Mind if I kick my shoes off too?”

“Go right ahead.”
Beth tucked her boots next to the front door, and then proceeded to check out Dante’s living room.

She was surprised by the plain, dark green sofa and loveseat combo that looked barely used. Bland
beyond belief, the whole room screamed bachelor. The wrought iron and glass coffee table was
inexpensive, and the sand-colored ginger jar lamps could have been bought at any discount store.
There were no pictures on the walls, or even a television set.

This wasn’t where Dante truly lived. Beth was willing to bet her P.I. license on it. There had to be

another room in the house the man had claimed as his own, because this certainly wasn’t it. This was
vanilla pudding with a side of vanilla. Dante was far too rich a flavor for this room.

Beth moved into the kitchen. The high-end white cabinets were in stark contrast to the black granite

countertop. Bright stainless steel canisters dotted the countertop, matching the appliances. The floor
was tile, a tumbled stone that was surprisingly warm under her bare feet. And the walls were a pale
golden color that warmed everything in sight.

The bright red pots Dante was cooking with were high end as well. He looked right at home

stirring the sauce and checking the pasta, moving with a bright self-assurance that spoke of his ease.
Beth couldn’t take her gaze off him.

This was one of the places the man lived, and it showed.
Beth glanced into the dining room and saw the same beige carpet and walls that were in the living

room. The oak dining table was a pedestal style, the chairs plain and simple. Even the sideboard was
no-frills, the oak matching the dining table and chairs perfectly, with no nick-knacks or candlesticks
on top. If he owned any china it wasn’t on display. She wandered around his home, utterly baffled.

What. The. Hell?
This was not the Dante she butted heads with. This was some bland vanilla frat boy’s home, a

place he only cleaned when his mom was coming over to do his laundry. Dante was fiery,
opinionated and sure of himself, just like his kitchen.

The rest of his home was anything but.
Part of her itched to take all the boring furniture into his backyard and burn it, but she didn’t think

he’d appreciate that. Instead, she accepted the glass of wine he handed her, taking a sip.

“Do you like pasta?” Dante asked.
Beth watched him stir the pasta bubbling away in the pot. “Sounds like a moot question to me,

since you’re already cooking it.”

“Good, because we eat in five minutes. Go have a seat.” Dante’s tone was distracted. He didn’t

even bother turning around as she left the kitchen and took a seat at his dining room table.

Something was not adding up, and it bothered her. Her fingers itched.
Dante was hiding something, and it went so deep it extended to his home. Whether it was his

connection to the Nephilim, his failed marriage or something else, she didn’t know, but she was going
to get to the bottom of it.

She so loved a good mystery.

* * *

Elizabeth was up again and studying his walls when he carried the steaming bowl of pasta in from the
kitchen. “What are you doing?” He settled the bowl on the trivet on the table.

She eyed him speculatively. “You have no pictures.”
He paused, studying her. “Excuse me?”
“You have no pictures on your walls.” She answered without turning around. “No softness. No

color. Not one thing that would let an observer know about your life. No family photos on the end
tables, no prints on the walls to brighten them. The kinds of things that make a house a home.”

He straightened up and walked back into the kitchen for the gravy boat. He ladled some sauce into

it and then carried it carefully into the dining room. “Maybe I don’t like clutter on my walls.”

“Maybe you just don’t want to let anyone in.”
He stared back, his expression shuttered. She was right; he had no pictures of anything that might

suggest he had a life outside of his work. The pictures Lillian had taken and hung around the place had
gone with her to her new house, the one she shared with Jerry. Dante kept his family photos
downstairs in the family room—his favorite room in the house. He saw no need to put up pictures of
anything anywhere else. This house was just a place he came to crash when he wasn’t at work, and
between his two jobs Dante worked a lot. “Dinner is ready.” He sat at the table, effectively cutting off
the conversation.

She sat at the table too, watching closely while he spooned out the piping hot pasta onto her plate.

“What is it you don’t want people to know?”

He should have known she wouldn’t let the topic drop. He stared at her, wondering whether or not

he should let her in on his secret. “I think you know.”

“Lillian?”
He blinked, startled. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He thought she’d come to a

completely different conclusion, like he wasn’t the simple cop he appeared to be. “Did your
homework, huh?”

She grinned, a lopsided one he wanted to kiss away. “You were really annoying during Abby’s

case.”

“Was not.”
“Was too.”
“Was not.”

“Was too.” One cheek went hollow. She was biting the inside of it, desperately trying not to laugh.
He mock glared at her, hoping she caught on. “Was not.”
She snorted. “Oh, please. Threaten to throw me in jail, huh?” She pointed her fork at him. “How

fast do you think Lakisha Purvis would have gotten your mama on the phone?”

He shuddered. Just the thought was horrible. “You wouldn’t.”
“I have Italian friends. I know all about Italian mamas.” Her grin was god damn evil. “Oh, hell yes,

I would.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Mangia. We’ll talk after.”
Her gaze was almost predatory. She wasn’t going to let a perceived mystery go, no matter what

Dante said.

Gabriel had told him to work with her. If revealing what he was made her trust him more, Dante

would do it. He needed to let her know, here in the safety of his home, that the perpetrator they were
hunting wasn’t human. He had to trust that she could take care of herself, even if he didn’t want to
think about a Shem near her.

Maybe he could get her a sniper rifle. Two miles of distance might be enough to satisfy his

protective streak.

She picked up a few pieces of pasta with her fork and blew delicately onto them. He could imagine

those soft, full lips blowing on something else. She moaned in pleasure as she bit into the pasta, and
he was forced to hold himself still.

He wanted to jump over the table, pull her onto the boring beige carpet and fuck her until she

screamed.

“This is very good.” She sounded surprised. “What brand sauce is it?”
He swallowed hard and tried to focus on something other than her mouth. “Benedetto.”
“Huh. Never heard of it. Did you buy it in a specialty store?” She took another bite of the pasta,

that obscene moan passing her lips once more.

Dante coughed. The woman was a god damn menace and didn’t even know it. “It’s homemade.”
“Wow. Good looking and can cook.” She glanced at her plate. “Okay, very good cook. Tell your

mother she should bottle this and sell it. She’d make a fortune.” She took another bite and sighed in
satisfaction.

“She’d kill me if I tried to sell it. It’s the ‘old family recipe’ thing.” He pictured his petite, dark

mother with her wooden spoon and the wicked, sparkling smile, and grinned. He could almost hear
her yelling at him.

She’d rip his balls off if he sold her sauce, and then bellow at him for not giving her grandchildren.
Beth shrugged. “Too bad. You could make a fortune on people like me.”
Dante shook his head. “What good would it do me? I’d be dead.”
“If you ever decide to go for it, put me in your will. Remember, I came up with the idea in the first

place.”

“Okay. It will read, ‘P.S., Rand gets nothing ’cause she got me killed.’”
She grimaced. “Gee, thanks a lot.”
Dante cleared the plates. He caught her reaching for the last bite of the pasta in the bowl just as he

lifted it away and had to smother a grin at her disappointed look. “Wait. Dinner isn’t over yet.” He
walked into the kitchen, ignoring the question in her eyes, and returned with a salad. He put some
salad on her plate, some on his own then settled back into his chair. He picked up his fork and began

to eat again.

Elizabeth stared at the salad with some confusion. “I thought the salad came before the main

course?” She picked up her fork and began to eat. A dreamy look crossed her face. “Do you make
your own salad dressing too?”

“Yes, and in Italian households the salad comes after the pasta. At least, in my mother’s

household.”

“So, could Lillian cook?” Elizabeth winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She had to

know his divorce had been acrimonious. Lillian had cheated on him and walked out on him.

Lillian was not a topic he enjoyed discussing.
Thank God he’d never revealed what he was to his ex. And thank God they hadn’t had children

together. He could just imagine what she would have done with a Neph child. “No.”

Elizabeth nodded uncomfortably and turned her attention back to her salad, the easy camaraderie

they’d established earlier in the evening gone. Elizabeth obviously felt guilty about bringing up
Lillian. He’d have to see what he could do about easing the sudden tension between them.

“Considering your history with private investigators I understand why you were so reluctant to

work with me.”

He sighed. He should have known better. “With Purvis out of the picture, however briefly, I can

use the help. Can I ask you something?” She shrugged. “Why didn’t you become a cop?”

Elizabeth smiled cynically. “Because I don’t like being pressured to find the bad guy by some

politico who thinks he knows how to do my job.”

“You’d rather be threatened by some client who’s unhappy with how quickly you’re moving on

something?”

“I’d rather be fired by one client than the entire state of Delaware simply because I messed up.”

She leaned forward earnestly. Dante was startled at the determination he saw in her gaze. It was the
same way he felt when he hunted a bad guy, or went after a Shem. “I do what I do because I believe in
it. I do everything I can to help my clients find resolutions to their problems, from cheating husbands
to murderers. If I get a missing child case, I’m not going to give up on it simply because some
bureaucrat tells me there’s not enough money in the budget to keep looking. I’ll look until I find
something, anything, to give that family some peace of mind. I can go where the police can’t go, do
things they won’t do, because technically I’m a private citizen. If I can work with the police, great. If
not, I’ll do it myself, and I will find who did this. You want to work with me?” She leaned back in her
chair again. “Then you understand one thing. I am as committed to finding out who killed Jennifer
Blake, and why, as you are. Can you live with that?”

He nodded. Elizabeth was someone he could respect, someone who was worthy of his secrets. “I

can live with it.” He leaned back in his chair. “There’s something I need to—” Her phone began
beeping insistently. “Important call?”

She frowned and pulled out her phone. “Rand.” The smile that crossed Elizabeth’s face as she

listened had him taking a deep, calming breath.

Whoever it was, she was extremely fond of that person.
Dante got up and cleared the plates, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He wanted to find the

person who’d put that look on her face and rip their lungs out through their asshole. He should be the
only one she thought of with that expression, the only one she smiled for.

He stopped, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Figlio di puttana.” This could not end

well.

He was falling in love with Elizabeth Rand.
Fuck.
When the hell had that happened?
“Hey, Dante? Can we continue this tomorrow?” He turned to find her pulling on her coat, her purse

resting on the dining room table. “Andi just called. She’s got a night off for once, and she really needs
to decompress, so we’re heading out dancing.”

Dancing? Where other men could see her, watch her move?
Oh, hell to the no.
He hoped his expression was appropriately bland as he asked his all-important question. “Where

are you two headed?”

Her grin reminded him of a shark. A hungry one. “Nightlife.”
Dante gritted his teeth. The place was a meat market, one he’d gone to himself when he needed to

let off some steam. “Have a good time.”

“Thanks.” She buttoned up her jacket and headed for the front door. “Dante?”
“Hmm?” He left the dishes for later. He’d be going out tonight.
“Thanks for dinner.” She opened the door and winked at him. “We definitely have to do this

again.”

He watched as she climbed into her car. “You bet your sweet ass we will.” And next time she

wouldn’t be leaving.

Chapter Six

“Aren’t you glad I talked you into this?” Andi asked, laughing as Beth fluffed her hair behind her. She
was sweating like a pig, and about as happy.

Beth grinned. She’d needed this, needed to get on a dance floor and move to the beat. Usually she

went with Sam or Kaley, but it was nice to get to see Andi cut loose for once. The brunette was
normally buttoned up and polished to within an inch of her life, a requirement for her job. She looked
nothing like the sleek executive assistant she was in her professional life.

The cold and ruthless Piotr would probably die of shock if he ever saw his assistant like this.
But when Andrea Hancock decided to cut loose, she broke out the body hugging jeans and the tight

T-shirts, huge gold bangles on her wrists and in her ears. Even her hair went a little wild, pulled back
into a ponytail that whipped around her in a frothy mass of brown curls. This was the Andi Beth had
grown up with, the one who threw punches with the best of them and fought like a tiger for her
friends. This was the one who’d shown up to school with bruises and a huge chip on her shoulder, the
one whose parents didn’t know smoked weed when she could get away with it, a habit Beth had
helped her break. This was the woman who’d defied her parents, refusing to become a doctor.
Instead, she’d chosen to become one of the powers behind the throne, an indispensable part of the
corporate machine. Without her, Piotr Romanov would discover that his ordered life became a
disorganized hell.

How Andi danced in those four-inch heels Beth would never know. If Beth tried it she’d wind up

right on her ass. “Yes, I am. Thanks, Andi.”

“I think we both needed this.”
Beth was willing to bet that Andi needed to get out far more than she did. It had to kill Andi to

know that the one man she’d ever loved didn’t see her as a woman. Hell, Beth was pretty sure Andi
was the one who arranged for Piotr’s presents to be sent to Ms. Right Now.

Andi shook her head at another man who approached her. It didn’t surprise her that Andi attracted

men like flies to honey. She’d managed to wave several of them off, and Beth had been fascinated by
how Andi handled it. She couldn’t detect any hostility in any of the men Andi turned down. Beth was
usually far more direct and abrupt if someone came on to her. She had no desire to pick up a man for
the night.

Visions of Dante filled her mind. Him, she wouldn’t mind picking up. She leaned against the booth

and stared out over the dance floor, wishing a certain burly cop was there with her.

There was something about Dante that made her want to curl up on his lap and purr like a kitten.

She shook her head. The very thought should have steeped her in rage-filled horror. Elizabeth Rand
was no man’s kitten. She was a strong, independent woman who worked her ass off in a man’s world.
She’d never let herself fall for anyone, even as a teenager. She’d had too much damn work to do to
fall in love. She still did.

But...
Dante was different. The cop might understand the odd hours, the constant obsession with finding

the truth. And if her suspicions about him were correct, it wasn’t just human bad guys he went after.
His hours were probably more insane than hers.

“You want a fresh drink?” Andi asked.

“Yes, please.” Beth watched as her friend went to the bar, smiling and waving off yet another

round of disappointed men. At least Andi was savvy. She wouldn’t leave an open drink unattended,
wouldn’t allow anyone to take her out of the building. Beth could relax—Andi could take care of
herself.

Beth wasn’t alone for long either. A tall dark-haired man slid into the booth with an oily smile.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was slurred, his movements choppy. “Noticed you sitting here all by
yourself and thought maybe you’d like some company.”

Beth snorted in disgust. The guy was obviously plastered. He reeked of alcohol and hair product.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The man tried to throw his arm over the back of the booth and missed.
She waved her hand in front of her face in a vain attempt to dispel the fumes.
“C’mon, you know you want a good time. I saw how you danced out there.” He leaned closer and

she backed away rapidly. His breath could be considered a fire hazard. “You wanna come home with
me and suck my cock?”

She stared at him, fascinated. He couldn’t actually think that would work, could he? “Not

particularly.” Beth started looking around for Andi. She could see her friend over by the bar, talking
to the bartender. She hoped it wouldn’t take her too much longer to get the drinks.

It had been a mistake to take her eyes off the skeeze-weasel. She turned, startled, to see that he’d

slid along the half-round booth until he was right next to her, his hand landing on her thigh and trying
to make its way to Happy Town. “C’mon, baby. You know you want it.” He leaned over her and tried
to kiss her.

“Ugh!” Beth turned her head away in disgust, and threw his hand off her thigh. She stood up,

quivering with outrage. “What the hell have you been drinking, liquid ass?”

He glared at her as he stood. “What the hell?”
“That had to be the lamest excuse for a pick-up line I have ever heard in my life. I got better ones in

grade school. Next time you want to try and get in some girl’s pants I suggest you be sober, because
asses shouldn’t try and talk.” She turned to walk away, when she felt her arm grabbed from behind,
the man’s hand squeezing hard enough to leave a mark. He spun her around and slammed her into the
wall.

“You just wait one god damn minute! No one talks to me like that!”
Beth twisted her arm, trying to get free. He was hurting her, but she’d be damned if she’d let him

know that. “Let go of me, or I swear you’ll be crawling out of here without your balls.”

The ape just pulled her closer, and as Beth readied herself for a fight she saw a flash of red behind

him.

Next thing she knew, the guy was sprawled facedown on the bench of the seat, a black clad knee in

the small of the man’s back, his hands held behind him in a classic police hold. Shock jolted through
her as Dante held the man, his eyes almost black with fury. “I think the lady said to let go.”

Beth heard the icy, restrained violence in Dante’s voice. Apparently, the drunk heard it too. “Okay,

man, okay. I’ll leave her alone, just get off me.”

Dante let him up, but watched the man stagger away with a blazing, furious expression that would

have scared the shit out of a stronger woman than her. For just a second, Beth could have sworn
flames licked his arms.

At one time in her life, Beth would have thought she was hallucinating, but not anymore. Not after

seeing Seth in all his angelic glory. “I was right. You’re one of them.”

Dante turned to face her, his expression still partly furious, then nodded. “Yeah. I was going to tell

you about it tonight, but you left before I could.”

Beth surreptitiously rubbed her sore arm. The guy had held her so hard she was afraid she’d have a

bruise later. “Thanks.” She shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. She had a brown belt. She should have
taken the asshole out herself. “For saving me.”

For one incredible moment the sounds of the club disappeared. All she could hear was the sound of

her own heartbeat as she stared into his dark, heat-filled gaze.

“You’re welcome.” The rich tones of his voice rolled over her, and she felt herself shiver in

reaction. There was something in his voice that hadn’t been there before, something that made her
want to offer up what that asshole had tried to steal. But before she could explore it, his cell phone
chirped. He checked the display and cursed.

“Problem?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, but I have to go.” He caressed her cheek softly, but his tone

demanded she obey his command. “Stay safe, Elizabeth.”

As he walked away she blew out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. “You too, Dante.” The

crowd swallowed him up, and she prayed he wasn’t going out hunting monsters alone. “You too.”

* * *

Seth was ghosting over the alleyway, flashing in and out of sight when he had a visual on the Shem
Angelus they’d been tracking for weeks now. The Shem had so far eluded them, but hunger or
stupidity had finally brought him out of hiding, allowing Dante and his brothers to track him.

Unfortunately, Dante and Damien couldn’t keep up with the flying Angelus, so they were sticking to

the main roads. Dante kept watch overhead, catching fleeting glimpses of Seth when he made a quick,
glowing appearance. It was a trick they’d utilized more than once in the past. Damien was pushing his
little sports car to its limits to keep Seth in sight, and Dante kept his eye out for those little flashes of
blue that told him his brother had spotted their prey.

The Shem had chosen to hunt in a diner near a fifty-five-plus community, of all things, feeding off

two elderly people who hadn’t had a clue that their last meal would involve undercooked hash
browns and soggy waffles with too much syrup. They’d been alerted by one of Damien’s warning
systems that two epileptic deaths had occurred right outside the diner in Middletown, and Gabriel had
sent them immediately to check it out, ruining Dante’s chance to dance with Elizabeth.

For that alone the Shem needed to meet a painful, fiery death.
Unlike his victims, the Shem apparently liked his waffles topped with chocolate chips, because

that’s what he’d been eating when they’d found him. He’d taken off running the moment he saw Seth,
scaring the piss out of the humans who were in his way. At least he’d had the sense to keep his wings
furled. Not even the Shemyaza wanted the humans to figure out what walked among them. Their easy
hunting grounds would disappear if humans figured out they were walking, breathing Happy Meals to
a bunch of horror movie monsters.

There. The double flash of Seth’s normally invisible wings meant the Shem had been cornered.
Angelus like Seth were able to hide from sight, a gift that allowed them to hide from humans while

in flight. And the wings of a Neph Angelus, indeed their very souls, seemed to be made of light,

making them highly visible when they didn’t choose to hide. Seth’s wings glowed with a blue light
that made Dante’s heart ache from their sheer beauty every time he saw them.

The wings of a Shem Angelus, on the other hand, were made of shadows and fear. Their glow was

diminished to a dark, pulsing haze filled with oozing green streaks, making their monstrous
appearance seem twice the size of other Shem. Their shadowy wings also helped hide their presence
when in flight, masking them against the dark sky.

Worst of all, their feeding pattern killed their victims quickly, making them difficult to hunt. Unlike

the Chameleon that had tried to feed off Abby, Shem Angelus didn’t linger, making their victim suffer
over time. Oh, no. They fed off the life force of their victims in one quick attack, swooping down and
terrifying the poor human before unleashing their inner darkness. The victim suffered through what
looked like a savage series of convulsions. Once drained, the victim lay in a twisted heap, broken by
their own body.

Damien screeched through a yellow light that had Dante white-knuckling the dashboard. “Pull my

gun out and get the safety off.”

Dante did as told, pulling Damien’s registered, specially modified .357 out and flicking off the

safety. The bullets were handmade and quenched in holy water, specifically for fighting Shem. “Pull
over there.”

Within seconds they were running for Seth. Dante handed the gun to his brother as they reached the

fight.

The two Angelus were fighting sword to sword, one light, one dark, the Shem’s green miasma

leaving slimy, rapidly dissipating contrails in the wake of his movements. His smoky wings obscured
Seth for a second, scaring the piss out of Dante.

Dante pulled his flame around him. His arms ignited, ready to hurl fire at the enemy. His body

heated, his Seris nature taking over as Seth reeled back, bleeding, one wing drooping. He’d taken a
hit, but he was still standing, still fighting.

Dante flung his hands out, one after the other, punching the air in rapid-fire movements that sent

small balls of flame toward the enemy.

The Shem dodged, but Dante scored a hit—real smoke rose from its dark wings. The Shem glared

at him and snarled. “Seris.”

“Asshole.” Dante flamed the son of a bitch again, driving it away from his wounded brother.
The Shem laughed, the sound desperate as Dante scorched him over and over again. “Your woman

won’t survive the week.”

Dante paused, startled, just long enough for the Shem to dart into the air. Only one face came to

mind at the Shem’s threat, and it wasn’t his ex-wife.

“Son of a—” Damien got off a shot or two at the fleeing Angelus, but it was gone, lost in the night.

With Seth’s wing wounded, they had no way to chase after it.

Damien turned on him, his expression furious. “What the hell was that? Why did you let it get

away?”

Dante gritted his teeth. It was a valid question, but the warning about Elizabeth had his flame

threatening to burn out of control. “It said my woman.”

Seth rolled his shoulders, wincing at his wounded wing. “You don’t have a woman.”
Dante didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Not when...
How did the Shem know? It couldn’t know. It was an Angelus, not an Oracle able to see the future.

Unless...

Unless it had been hunting them.
Dante began swearing in Italian.
Damien grimaced. “Shit. I don’t think it’s working alone.”
Seth furled his wings, his light diminishing until the only reminder left of them were the two huge

wing tattoos emblazoned on his back. He tugged on the shirt he’d stuffed into his back pocket before
responding. “Wait. Dante has a girlfriend?”

“Yup.” Damien grabbed hold of Dante’s arm and dragged him—still swearing—back to the car.

“Get in, lover boy. You can fill us in on the way back to Seth’s car.”

As much as he’d like to continue chasing the Shem who’d threatened Elizabeth, that wasn’t going to

happen. “Fine, yeah, I’m going.” Dante grumbled but climbed into the car. Seth piled into the back
seat, pulling the blanket Damien always had waiting for him over his shoulders.

“So.” Seth’s teeth were chattering hard enough that Dante could hear them over the sound of

Damien starting the car. “Give. Who’s the girl, and how are we going to protect her?”

Dante sighed. He just knew his brothers were going to give him shit over this. “Elizabeth Rand.”
“Abby’s Elizabeth Rand? The P.I.?”
Dante nodded.
Seth frowned, obviously confused. “But you hate P.I.s.”
Dante shrugged. What could he say? He wasn’t exactly fond of the breed, but Elizabeth was

different. “She knows what we are, and she’s nothing like the cheating asshole who ran off with my
wife.”

“Do you trust her?” That from Damien, who probably didn’t trust his own mother, but had given

that unwavering loyalty instead to the Nephilim.

Dante nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
And as soon as he saw her again he’d be telling her about the Shem stink all over their crime scene.

Now that he’d accidentally revealed his true nature, the conversation would be much simpler.
Hopefully she’d realize she was in over her head and allow him to take the lead.

“We need to get her under guard, then. Let me know when you need me.”
Dante smiled. He should have known Seth would be the first one to volunteer. “Get your wing

fixed first, then we’ll talk.”

“I’ll talk to Gabriel. We need to combine the hunt for the Angelus with your murder investigation.”

Damien got them moving once more, his expression fierce. “It’s possible your perp is working with
ours. We can’t let them get their hands on Beth.”

The very thought had Dante smoking, literally. “No. No, we cannot.”

* * *

“I’ve got something! Give me a call!” The excited sound of Sam’s voice woke Beth out of a sound
sleep. She looked at the clock and saw that it was six o’clock in the morning, a full hour before she
intended to get up. She rolled over with a groan, her muscles protesting, her arm throbbing viciously.
Still half asleep, she rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom to find out why her arm hurt so
badly.

“Aw, fuck. I’m gonna kill me a sleaze.”

In the mirror she could see a purple bruise on her upper arm, right where that drunken ass had

grabbed her. Sighing, she brushed her teeth and hair. It wasn’t the first time a man had left a bruise on
her, and it wouldn’t be the last. She just preferred to be the one to hand them their balls afterward.

Dante had taken care of that the night before. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
She made a quick cup of coffee, grateful once again that she’d gotten that K-Cup coffee maker, then

reran the voice message Sam had left. She must have found something pretty good to sound like that,
but Beth had no clue what she could have discovered in a day.

Sam was good, but Beth wasn’t sure even she was that good.
Beth grabbed a bagel out of the fridge and bit into it cold, chasing it with a shot of coffee. She

pushed her glasses into place then reached for the phone. She cradled the receiver against her
shoulder and took another sip. God, she hoped it kicked in soon. Dealing with Sam while
decaffeinated was never fun.

“Hello?”
“It’s Beth. Fair warning, I’m decaffeinated.”
Sam giggled. “Did I wake you up?”
Beth grunted and took another bite of bagel. “What have you got?”
“You’ll never guess what I discovered.” The buzz of energy in Sam’s voice made Beth’s head spin.
“Proof of Bigfoot?” Beth took another quick sip of coffee and tried to pay attention. She wouldn’t

put it past her flaky friend to be a UFO hunter.

“Jennifer Blake socked away seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars of campaign funds into a

bank account in the Cayman Islands over a period of a couple of weeks.”

Beth choked on a bite of bagel. “What?”
“She also purchased a house there and a car—a cute little Jeep in candy apple red.”
Beth slowly set her coffee cup on the countertop. “Jennifer Blake was robbing Blessing’s campaign

fund? Are you positive?” Beth was now wide awake. Someone had been a very bad girl. Moving
somewhere warmer indeed.

“Sure looks like it. Oh, and most of that money she stole? It came from Romanov Enterprises. Some

kind of a private donation. Very hush-hush. Not sure exactly what Romanov’s connection to all this is,
but I’ll do a little more digging. Maybe he thought it would be nice to have the governor of the state in
his pocket.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s going to be pissed if he finds out the money he poured into

the Blessing campaign was stolen.” Piotr seemed to be all about power and influence. Having a
governor in his pocket would only give him more of that.

On the other hand, he was one of Seth’s best friends, and Andi adored him. Maybe something else

was going on, something deeper she couldn’t see yet.

“Well, that’s not the only weird part. Three days ago, the money was taken out of the Cayman

account. I’m still trying to track where it went.”

Beth frowned. “Did anyone else have signing privileges on the account?”
“Not that I can find so far, but I’ll keep digging.”
Beth leaned against the counter and studied her socked feet. Something about this wasn’t right. “Do

you have any idea how the money was moved?”

“Oh, it was definitely some kind of an electronic transfer. It’s just that whoever did it managed to

cover his or her tracks very well.” Sam’s tone had shifted, becoming absent. She was more than

likely already working on how to solve the problem. “It might take me another day or two to figure
out exactly where it went, and if they kept the funds hopping it might take even longer.”

“Let me know what you find out. Whoever stole that money might have been her partner.”
“Will do. I’m going to look into Blessing as well. Anything else you need from me?”
“Dig up what you can on Romanov’s connection to the campaign. I’d be curious to see if he’s

anything more than a campaign contributor or if something else is going on.”

“Got it. TTFN!”
Beth ended the call and strode back to her bedroom, her thoughts whirling. If Piotr Romanov was

involved in this somehow, things were going to get very sticky.

She threw on a hot pink T-shirt and dark blue jeans, slipped her feet into her black boots, and

strode back out into the kitchen. Picking up the phone, she dialed Dante’s number.

He was not going to like this, not one little bit. She could already tell Dante hated complications,

and throwing Piotr Romanov into the mix was one hell of a problem. The billionaire could make the
detective’s life a living hell with one phone call.

“Hello?”
Beth bit back a groan. Damn, the man sounded sexy as hell first thing in the morning. His deep

voice was rough with sleep, sending shivers down her spine. “It’s Beth.”

“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”
It sounded like he’d gone from half asleep to wide awake in seconds. “Calm yourself, big guy. I’ve

got some information on the Blake case.”

There was the sound of rustling and a deep sigh. “I’m on my way.”
He hung up before she could respond. Beth shrugged and made herself another cup of coffee. He’d

get here soon enough.

Until then, she had just enough time to wake the hell up. She’d need all her wits about her to keep

Sam safe. If Dante figured out she’d used somewhat illegal means to discover Piotr’s involvement in
the Blake murder, he’d have a fit of epic proportions.

Maybe she’d better have a third cup of coffee, just to be safe.

Chapter Seven

Dante picked Elizabeth up at her apartment and took her to his favorite diner. He needed a caffeine
infusion, and he needed it now. Hunting that Shem the night before then waking at six in the morning
had him scowling and mean as a bear.

“Wow, you’re certainly a cheap date.” She laughed as she slid into the booth across from him. She

didn’t bother to take off her jacket.

He grunted. “Food. Coffee. Not in that order.”
“All right, Dante. Let’s get you fed, then I’ll fill you in. All right?” She picked up her menu and

began to meticulously study its contents.

Dante sighed. “I was out working my other job last night.”
She didn’t even flinch. The menu remained steady in her hands. “Any luck?”
“He got away.”
That got her to lower the menu. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
The Shem’s parting shot rang in his ears once more. Your woman won’t survive the week. He bit

back a growl, aware she was safe and sound, at least for the moment.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was safe, but only when she was with him. Perhaps he

should take her to Gabriel’s. If any place on the planet was safe from Shemyaza, it would be the home
of the archangel who’d hunted them for centuries.

The sound of the waitress clearing her throat brought him out of his daze. He looked up, and hid a

wince. Shit. Of all the times to see an ex-girlfriend, it had to be now.

“Hi, Dante,” Tessa said with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“It’s nice to see you too.” Dante wondered what fresh hell was coming his way. From the wicked

expression on Elizabeth’s face, it was going to be a doozy.

“What can I get for you?” Dante watched her gaze dart between him and Elizabeth. Her smile lost

some of its strength.

They both ordered the biggest breakfast on the menu.
Tessa smiled again, the expression hopeful, her gaze warm. “Want to get together one night this

week? I’m free Thursday?”

Shit. Dante had to let her down gently. Tessa was a nice girl and didn’t deserve to be snarled at. In

fact, she’d been too nice, too sweet. He needed someone who could meet him head on. He had truly
liked Tessa, and her presence had soothed him after his divorce, but the relationship was going to go
nowhere. He’d thought she’d understood that, but apparently not. “I’m sorry, but I’m no longer
available.”

“Oh.” The disappointment on her face would have been flattering if Elizabeth wasn’t watching

them both with avid curiosity. The waitress pinned on a bright, somewhat sad smile. “Well, I hope
you’re both very happy together.”

“Thank you.” Dante didn’t say another word as Tessa walked away to turn in their order.
Elizabeth pushed some of her dark hair behind one ear. He found himself watching her, waiting for

her reaction.

It wasn’t long in coming. “You’re taken, huh?”
He raised an eyebrow, staring at her with all the heat he’d felt as he’d watched her on that dance

floor the night before. “Yup.”

Her cheeks burned brightly before she put the menu back up, blocking his view. Neither of them

said another word until the food arrived.

“You dance very well.” He had to smother a grin when she choked on her bacon. “If you ever want

to go with me, let me know.”

The challenge in her gaze was intoxicating. “If I decide to go dancing with you, you wouldn’t be

able to keep up with me.”

“You are on, tesoro. We’ll go tonight.”
She raised one dark brow mockingly. “Sure your poor old heart can stand it?”
His answering smile was slow. He was aware of exactly how predatory he looked as she sat back,

her gaze narrowed. “Do you want to try me?”

She sighed roughly and drank some of her coffee. “What are we going to do about this?”
“This?”
“This—” she waved her hand toward him, then back at herself, “—conflict of interest.”
He leaned forward. “You’re going to tell me whatever it was you learned that woke you up this

morning. You and I will go interview Bryan Cranston. I called the office, and he’s in today.
Afterward, we do dinner and dancing.”

“And then?”
He picked up his mug, stroking the curve of the handle with one finger. “Then we see what comes

up next.”

She looked away, her lips twitching. “You are a bad man.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She blew out her breath and finished her bacon. “Fine. Want to know what my informant told me or

not?”

Apparently she was going to ignore his flirting. That was all right. They needed to work, and she

hadn’t said no. For Elizabeth, it was damn near a proposal of marriage. He could work with that.
“Informant?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “You could call her that. She’s someone who has done work for me before. I

asked her to look into Jennifer Blake’s financials.”

“What did she find?”
“Embezzlement.”
Dante blinked. “How the hell does that fit in?”
“With what?” She sounded nearly as confused as he felt.
He looked around the room, noting all the humans sitting within hearing distance. “I’ll explain in

the car.” He pointed toward her plate. He had his own information to pass on, and a warning. “Finish
up. We have work to do, tesoro.”

“Do I want to know what that means?”
He winked at her. “Ask me over dinner.”
They concentrated on their food after that, eager to get out of the restaurant and share their

information in the privacy of his car. He paid the bill, barely remembering to wave good-bye to
Tessa.

They got into Dante’s car and began the drive to Blessing campaign headquarters. “So. What did

your informant tell you?”

“Jennifer Blake took seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars that Piotr Romanov had donated to

the Blessing campaign and put it in a Cayman Island account.”

“Shit.” Dante hated feeling that one of his Neph brothers was going to turn on them, but Piotr kept

giving him reasons to doubt his loyalty. This was just the latest in a long string of seemingly
insignificant things that tied the man to the Shemyaza, such as sharing a last name with their leader,
Ivan Romanov.

“She then used that money to purchase a house there and a Jeep in candy apple red.”
“Is that all she was able to find out?”
“So far. She’s still collecting data for me.” Elizabeth shrugged. “She’s only been on this since

yesterday.”

“Not bad. How did she find the account?” Dante was certain he knew who the she was. Sam was

good, almost as good as Damien.

“I’m not sure, but I can guarantee it wasn’t illegal.”
“I didn’t say it was.” Sam might be on the quirky side, but he doubted she’d ever cross the line.
“Good.”
Dante pulled up outside the campaign headquarters. The Shem stench was all over the building. It

was even worse than it had been the last time they were here.

It was inside somewhere, or had been very recently. Dante scowled as Elizabeth got out of the car.

“Wait.”

“What?” She tapped her foot impatiently.
There wasn’t enough time to fill her in on what was really going on, damn it. He should have taken

care of it over breakfast, but he’d been too damn busy getting her to agree to go out with him. If he
wasn’t careful he was going to get her killed. He waved her closer, pulling the lapels of her jacket up.
He spoke softly, barely moving his lips. “There’s a Shem inside, or was.”

“A what?”
Her confused expression was adorable. “Another Diana.”
She froze, her face going bone white. “Shit, fuck, damn.” She ran her fingers through her hair and

glared at the front door. “Are the civilians in there in danger?”

“I’m not sure. Even if they are, the Shem won’t feed around witnesses.”
She bit her lip. “Jennifer Blake?”
“Snowstorm, no one on the streets. I’m betting he saw his chance to kill two politicians with one

claw.”

She took a deep breath and stepped out of his hold. “How do I kill it?”
“You don’t.” He waited until she looked back at him and allowed the fire within him to fill his

eyes. “I do.”

* * *

They stepped into the campaign office, Beth on high alert. If another one of those monsters was inside
she wanted to be prepared. She felt naked. Her gun was at her apartment rather than at her side, and
she planned on picking it up before they went much further that day.

Right now, if a...Shem?...confronted them, the only thing she’d be able to do would be make frowny

faces at it. She doubted her tae kwon do would be of much assistance against a person with claws and

fangs.

The inside of the office felt like a furnace after the bitter cold outside. Beth shrugged out of the too-

hot jacket and slung it over her arm.

A sudden intake of breath alerted her. Dante was staring at the bruise the asshole had left behind,

his expression curiously blank. “He bruised you?”

His voice was lethal.
Uh-oh. Dante had been ready to rip that guy’s arms off just for touching her. She had to head this off

at the pass before he hunted that guy down and turned him into barbecue. “Forget it, Dante. The guy
isn’t worth losing your badge.”

His low growl disagreed with her.
Beth patted him on the head. “Good boy. Good boy, protecting your mistress. I’ll give you a doggy

treat later. Now let’s go talk to Cranston and find that fucking Shem.”

“Mistress, huh?”
At least the lethality was gone, but the heat in his voice wasn’t much better. She had to keep her

mind on their work or they could both wind up dead. “Yup. Now pay attention or I won’t skritch your
belly later.”

She realized about two seconds later what she’d said as his hand landed on her lower back.

“That’s a date.” He led the way toward the back of the offices, toward where Oates and Cranston
worked, his hand warm and possessive.

Dante’s cell rang. “Hold up a second.” He answered, his voice once more professional as his hand

left her back. “Detective Zucco.”

From his grimace this could take two seconds or two hours. She pointed toward the doorway

leading to the offices, and started to walk in that direction before he could order her to stay behind.

Dante reached for her. “Elizabeth—”
“I’ve got this one. Take your call.” He scowled down at her. “Really.” She leaned in, whispering

so she wouldn’t be heard by anyone but him “You said it won’t feed in front of so many people.
You’re right here, and I’ll try and stay in sight.”

She was so getting her gun later.
He glared at her, his attention once more on his phone call but his gaze glued to her. “Yeah, I hear

you, Jarvis. No, asshole, you don’t...”

A man waved to her, his hair thin but well groomed, his wire-frame glasses sliding down his nose.

His smile was nervous but warm, his hands thin and moving rapidly as he waved her toward him.

Elizabeth headed into the room and the smiling man waiting for her. “Bryan Cranston?”
“Yes, Miss...?”
“Elizabeth Rand. I’m a private investigator working with the New Castle P.D. to solve the murder

of Jennifer Blake.”

“Oh my, yes, Mrs. Blake. I’ve met her a few times, of course, but she mostly spoke to Mr. Oates

when she visited this side of the building.” Bryan Cranston nervously pushed his glasses up his nose.
His slight, wiry frame seemed incapable of sitting still. The brown sweater and khaki pants that he
wore hung oddly on his frame, as if they were a size too big.

“Did she ever speak to you?”
“She came to me once or twice for files. She had the necessary authorization, so I saw no reason

not to give them to her. Of course, I had to make sure that she returned them. We couldn’t have them

floating around out there for just anyone to read, you know.” Beth watched the way Cranston’s
slender hands and muddy brown eyes darted hither and yon. For some reason, Cranston was nervous
about talking to her. He seemed incapable of holding a conversation without twitching or fiddling
with his glasses. “The loss of the files Mrs. Blake had on her has caused us untold problems,” the
nervous man continued. “We have to go back to each one of the contributors and back track all of the
expenses. It’s an incredible amount of work.”

Beth had seen the never ending stream of coffee Oates and his secretary had been consuming in

order to stay on top of the situation. Cranston, on the other hand, appeared to be drinking herbal tea.
She wasn’t surprised. Actually, she was quite grateful. The thought of Bryan Cranston hyped up on
caffeine scared her more than the thought of her date with Dante tonight.

“Have any of the files been recovered yet? Can we retrieve them from the police?” Cranston wrung

his hands, his expression hopeful.

“I doubt it, Mr. Cranston. They’re evidence. You’ll have to wait until they’ve been processed,

along with the rest of it.” She was having a hard time keeping her gaze off Cranston’s constantly
moving hands.

Cranston’s sigh was heartfelt. “Oh, dear.” He shook his head sadly. “We’ll be a month

straightening this mess out.”

“Mr. Cranston?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you remember hearing rumors about an affair Mrs. Blake was having?”
“An affair? Mrs. Blake? Are you sure?” For the first time since meeting him, Cranston’s hands

were still.

“As sure as we can be. Several people noticed Mrs. Blake in an embrace with a man who wasn’t

her husband.” She watched him intently, noting the shock on his face. Apparently he was the only
office worker who hadn’t suspected an affair.

“No, I’m afraid not. That’s...very disappointing to hear.” He sounded sincerely upset by the news.

“Mrs. Blake always spoke so fondly of her husband and little girl, so it’s hard to believe that she’d
betray them that way.” Cranston’s hands began to weave in and out of themselves again. “Although it
seems to me if she was having an affair with anyone, Kensington would be the most likely suspect. He
always gets whatever woman he wants.”

“Bryan, did you do the work on the Talbot file I requested?” Sylvester Oates loomed behind

Cranston. The signs of fatigue were obvious in his face, the dark circles under his eyes standing out
dramatically against his pale skin.

Cranston jumped nervously. “It’s right here, Mr. Oates.” He dug frantically in his pile of files, half

of them winding up on the floor before he located the one he wanted. He handed the file to Oates, who
grunted in thanks. “Ms. Rand.”

She nodded back. “Mr. Oates.”
Oates walked off without another word as he flipped through the file.
“He’s been a little irritable lately,” Cranston said weakly, his gaze following his boss. “I can’t

blame him. I’d probably fall apart if I was in his shoes right now.”

“Can you tell me anything more about the missing files?”
“I’m afraid there isn’t much more I can tell you about them, other than they were financial in

nature.”

“Which files were they?” Beth asked, pen poised eagerly over her notepad. If she could

corroborate Sam’s data, she’d be able to get into Romanov Enterprises and maybe interview Piotr
himself.

“Well, there was the Talbot file, but we were able to recover most of that. The Branda file, the

Morrison file, the Rose file and the Miller file were all missing. We’ve managed to recover most of
the Morrison, Rose and Miller files, and all of the Branda files.” Cranston pushed his glasses back up
his nose.

“What about the Romanov file?” Beth asked, looking up sharply.
Cranston’s hands stopped moving. “The Romanov file? What Romanov file?”
Beth leaned back slightly in her chair. “I heard a rumor that Piotr Romanov contributed funds to the

Blessing campaign. If that’s so, you’d have a file on him. I wanted to know if that was one of the files
that was missing.”

Confusion and alarm lit Cranston’s face. “I’m afraid I have no memory of Mr. Romanov

contributing anything to the campaign.” He turned briefly to his computer and typed out a command,
his fingers sure and steady. He sort of reminded her of a spastic Sam. He focused the same way Sam
did. Sam was only truly easy in her skin when she was in front of her beloved computers.

A list of names began to scroll down the screen. He stopped in the R’s. “Randall, Ramone,

Ringstead, Rivers, Roper... No, I’m sorry.” He shook his head, his gaze intent on the screen. “There’s
no Romanov listed.”

“Could he have contributed under an assumed name?”
“If he did, I wouldn’t have access to that information. I simply don’t have the authorization to

search that deeply in the database.” He typed for a few seconds, his expression intent. “As far as I can
tell, though, there have been no large donations either under Anonymous or one of the umbrella
corporations owned by Mr. Romanov.”

“Are you sure?”
He nodded almost eagerly. “I’m sure. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” The disappointment on his

face was almost comical.

“No, thank you, Mr. Cranston,” Beth murmured. Something was fishy. Sam was never wrong. She

was adamant about making sure the data she passed on to her clients was one hundred percent
accurate. So what the hell was going on with Cranston’s database? “You’ve been very helpful,
indeed.” She held out her hand. “Thank you. If we need anything else we’ll be in contact.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Rand.” Cranston shook her hand, his palm surprisingly cold. No wonder he

constantly rubbed them together. He was trying to warm up. His smile was friendly. “I’m sorry I
couldn’t have been of more assistance.”

Beth nodded and waved goodbye, making her way back to where Dante was finally hanging up the

phone.

“What did Cranston say?”
“There’s no record of a Romanov contribution anywhere.” Beth pushed up her glasses. “What

about you? Sense any woo-woo stuff?”

His brows rose. “Woo-woo?” He took hold of her arm and led her toward the door. Keeping his

voice low he answered her question, but not the way she’d expected. “It’s all over the place, like one
of those lingering farts.”

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Men and their fart jokes.”

“This is no joke. It’s so thick I can’t tell where it came from. And it’s all over the place.” He tilted

his head in thanks as she opened the door for him. “Speaking of farts, if Piotr made a donation and
there’s no record of it, I say something definitely stinks.”

“You think we should go talk to Mr. Romanov?”
His expression turned grim. “Yeah. I think we should.”
“Do you think he has something to do with Jennifer’s death?” Beth let Dante get the car door for

her. He hadn’t bitched when she’d gotten a door for him, and fair was fair.

“Not sure, but I know he’s up to something.”
Beth cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t reply. Andi trusted Piotr, and the man had come through for

both Seth and Abby. So what was Dante’s problem with the man?

Chapter Eight

Piotr Romanov. Dante shuddered. That was one brother he wouldn’t mind seeing disappear. Why
couldn’t it have been him instead of Rafael? Dante still had suspicions that their Romanov was
related to the Shem’s leader, Ivan Romanov, but the last name was so common in Russia it was hard
to tell. And with Piotr refusing to speak of it, there was no way to know for sure.

But he had his suspicions that the relationship was a lot closer than sharing a last name. He’d seen

pictures of Ivan the Terrible, and the Shem leader had the same icy gray eyes as Piotr. If Piotr was
related to Ivan then he could be a spy for the Shem. Gabriel’s cell was First, as Gabriel was the
leader of all the Nephilim. Piotr could easily feed information to Ivan that could wipe out the
Nephilim.

All right. There were two reasons, if he was being truly honest with himself.
Piotr hadn’t Fallen...yet.
No matter how many times Seth and Gabriel tried to reassure him, Dante couldn’t bring himself to

trust the man. Piotr was cold and ruthless, and because he was a Cambion he was one of the few
Nephilim who actually fed off of humans and remained a Neph. Any other Nephilim would become
Shem if they lost themselves to the darkness by feeding from a human.

But Cambions had to feed in order to survive. Their strength was directly tied to how often, and

how well, they fed. Their Incubus-like powers forced them to feed off the emotions of others, usually
during sex, but unlike Incubi they didn’t need to kill. However, a Cambion who did kill would Fall,
becoming a Shem Incubus.

As a Cambion, Piotr could read the emotions of those around him, meaning he knew exactly how

Dante felt about him. To make matters worse, he could use his abilities on others, making them easier
to influence. He could control their lust for violence, sex or any other emotion he desired. The
stronger the emotion Piotr fed from, the stronger he became, until he was a match for a Legionnaire in
strength and endurance.

Piotr wasn’t a stupid man. He was cold and vicious, but not stupid. An unfed Cambion was a weak

Cambion, and Piotr, with his string of mistresses, made sure he was very well fed.

As far as Dante was concerned, there was only one hope of saving the cold son of a bitch. A

Cambion who found their One—the only person in the world they could soul bond to—was incapable
of Falling. But he’d have to be willing to find that One and claim her, giving up all other partners for
her.

He doubted Piotr could ever be that unselfish.
“Mr. Romanov will see you now.”
He nodded his thanks to Piotr’s secretary, a young man who spoke with a confidence that surprised

Dante. That had always confused him whenever he was forced to come to Piotr’s office. The
Nephilim who knew Piotr were terrified of him.

The people who worked for him, however, worshipped the ground he walked on. That too made

him suspicious.

Could he be using his powers to influence the humans around him?
“Thank you.” Elizabeth smiled at the young man when Dante didn’t respond.
Piotr Romanov waited for them behind his huge, antique mahogany desk—his expression

unreadable. He was lean and sleek in his pearl-gray Armani suit, a silver clip holding back his long
blond hair. His eyes glittered like twin shards of ice, so light in color they almost appeared colorless.
His was the face of an evil sorcerer, thin and mocking and utterly beautiful, and women fell all over
themselves to climb into his bed.

Dante didn’t see the appeal.
True, when Piotr moved it was with an old-world elegance rarely seen today. He glided toward

them with predatory grace, and Elizabeth tensed. “Detective Zucco. How nice to see you.” He had a
slight accent that hinted at his Russian ancestry.

Dante scowled. “Wish I could say the same.”
“Charming, as always.” Piotr’s gaze turned toward Elizabeth, and Dante held his inner fire back by

sheer force of will. The Cambion should not be looking at Elizabeth that way, heat turning his silver
gaze molten. “And who might this be?”

“Mine,” Dante snarled without thought.
Piotr stared at him, shock racing across his features before he schooled them once more into his

normal, arrogant calmness.

Elizabeth elbowed Dante in the side hard enough to nearly stagger him, then held out her hand to

Piotr. “Elizabeth Rand, P.I. I don’t think we’ve ever met in person. I worked the Marcheson case.”

“Ah.” Piotr glided forward and lifted her hand to his lips. At the last moment, he turned her hand so

that his greeting kiss was planted on her wrist instead of her knuckles. “Charmed, Ms. Rand.” The
look he shot Dante was full of wicked challenge before he turned his attention once more to Elizabeth.
“And how may I help you this fine day?”

Elizabeth removed her hand from Piotr’s grip. “We’d like to know about your contributions to

Todd Blessing’s gubernatorial campaign.”

Romanov hesitated briefly before replying. “What makes you think I contributed to the Blessing

campaign? Romanov Enterprises is not interested in politics.”

“We have reason to believe that these were private funds you gave to the campaign, Mr.

Romanov.”

“I’m afraid you must be mistaken.” Piotr’s voice was steady, but something in his expression

seemed off somehow, as if they’d managed to startle him and he was desperately trying to hide it.

“Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars was stolen from the Blessing campaign.” Beth stared at

Piotr with the best poker face Dante had seen in some time. “According to my source, you contributed
seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Your file is the only one that’s missing, and now you tell me
that you didn’t contribute anything to the Blessing campaign. Are you sure of that, Piotr?”

Piotr smiled. “I think I would notice if I was missing three quarters of a million dollars. Even I am

not that wealthy.” He stood, all dignity and ice. “Will that be all, Detective?”

Dante stood and Beth followed suit. “For now, yes. We’ll be back.” Dante took the hand that Piotr

offered and shook it.

Piotr stared, his gaze sharp and focused. “Prebyvaniem bezopasny, moı̆ brat.”
Dante froze. The traditional parting words the Neph gave one another almost choked him as he

gave them back to a man he in no way considered his brother. “Stay safe, my brother.”

The mocking smile Piotr gave them as they left stayed with him all the way to the car. Why would

Piotr, who knew Dante loathed him, give him the traditional parting?

And why had he seemed so intent as he said it? What the hell did the son of a bitch know, and how

much of a part did he have to play in Jennifer Blake’s murder?

Dante needed to speak to Gabriel, yesterday. Piotr was in this up to his long blond hair, and the

archangel needed to know before Piotr destroyed them all.

* * *

Dante dropped Beth off with a reminder about their date that night before taking off. She walked up to
her apartment, her mind whirling, but not with thoughts of Dante. Or at least not the thoughts she
should have been having.

Something about the interview with Piotr Romanov had bothered him, badly.
Was Piotr Romanov one of them? Somehow she wouldn’t be surprised to find out that one of the

scariest people in the United States was the descendant of fallen angels. It would fit, both with his
looks and his charm. There was a predator that lived within Piotr Romanov, one he kept on a tight
leash.

One Dante didn’t trust.
However, Piotr had come through for Seth and Abby, giving them a safe place to stay when Abby

was being stalked by Diana. Even more importantly, Andi trusted Piotr, and for that reason Beth was
inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. She’d have to make a call to her best buddy when she
had a moment or two to breathe.

Dante’s issues with him would be addressed. She’d listen to what he had to say and decide for

herself if Piotr was someone she could count on.

But her instincts—the ones she listened to without fail—told her Piotr Romanov only appeared

cold. There was something more, a loneliness when he stared at Dante, a longing for...

Ugh. She couldn’t quite place her finger on what that fleeting expression on Piotr’s face had been.

It wasn’t sexual, it was...

Familial.
That made no sense whatsoever, but it was the closest she could come.
Beth packed up her gym bag and headed for the dojo. She needed some time to decompress, to

allow everything she’d learned to percolate through her brain before she came to any conclusions,
either about their case or Piotr Romanov. And the best way to do that was to get her ass thoroughly
whipped.

She strode into the dojo, ready to work out some stress. “Hey, Sensei.”
Cheyenne Jones, one of the smallest and toughest women Beth had ever met, waved cheerfully.

“Hey, Beth. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

Beth grinned. “Work, work, work.”
Her Sensei laughed. “I hear ya.” The woman’s Carolina drawl was thick with amusement. “Ready

to work, work, work some more?”

“I hate you.” Beth sighed. She changed into her gi quickly, the routine familiar. When she stepped

onto the mat, she bowed to her sensei, ready to warm up and spar.

Beth fought hard and furious, and still knew she was going to lose. Sensei flipped her on her back

and hit her with the touch that signified a disabling blow embarrassingly quickly.

“Damn it, Beth! What the hell is wrong with you tonight? Your mind is all over the place. I should

never have landed that move on you, girl!” The normally slow Carolina drawl was quick, disgusted.

Beth panted and pushed her sweat-dampened hair out of her face, staring sheepishly at the

diminutive woman who stood over her. Sensei had her hands on her hips, a sure sign that she was
displeased. Beth winced as she thought of what Sensei was going to put her through for her
inattention. “Um. I have a date.”

“A date.”
Damn, someone was not amused. She knew better than to bring her stress onto the mat. “And I have

a new case that’s driving me insane.”

“You always have cases that make you crazy. What’s different with this one?”
Like Beth could tell her I think scary angel-monsters ate a woman who was stealing money from

a politician.

Then again, considering how her sensei felt about politicians...
Nope. She couldn’t do it. “Sorry, Sensei.” She pushed to her feet as gracefully as she could, then

bowed to her. “My case this time is...difficult to describe. Someone’s dead, and the widower hired
me to find the killer.”

Sensei bowed back. “I’m sorry to hear that. But that makes me more determined to get you to pay

attention this time. If you get distracted in a fight you could wind up dead.”

Sensei was right. She’d get sympathy from her friend off the mat.
On it, she’d better get her ass in gear or her sensei would hand it to her.
Beth winced, then took her stance. “Yes, Sensei.”
The women faced one another across the expanse of pads. Sensei began her attack, and Beth met it

with all the concentration she could. She let go of the case, of Dante, of all of it. She still lost, but this
time her sensei nodded her head in apparent satisfaction. “Better. More like what I expect from one of
my top students.”

Beth grinned. She currently was listed by the school as holding a second-degree brown-belt.

Sensei claimed belts only counted if they held up your pants. Talent, skill, knowledge and the wisdom
to know when to use them were what counted with Cheyenne Jones. She handed out belts for the kids
and adults who thought they really counted, but by the time her students hit the Brown, she’d told them
what she really thought. The good students agreed with her.

Not many of the bad ones graduated to the Brown, let alone Black.
“Next time you step in here, try to keep your troubles off the mat. You know better than that.”
Beth took her head out from under her towel and looked down at her sensei.
“Sorry.” She ducked back under the towel to hide her embarrassment.
The towel was ripped off her head with a swiftness that had Beth gasping. “If you want a different

lesson, we could go right back out on the mat. I can make sure you remember it too.”

Beth faced her sensei with respect. “Yes, Sensei.”
Jones snorted with amusement. “Taking your emotions into a fight will get you killed.” She turned

to walk away, stepping off the mat, and Beth let out a brief sigh of relief.

“Oh, and, Beth?”
“Yeah?” She whipped the towel from around her neck.
Cheyenne, once more just her friend now that she was off the sparring mat, winked. “Have fun on

your date tonight.”

Beth groaned, all the tension she’d come to work off returning in a rush of adrenaline. “I hate you

so much.”

* * *

Dante made his way to Gabriel’s home. He was no closer to finding either of the Shem he’d been sent
to hunt.

He needed the help of his brothers.
He pulled up outside the house, surprised to see that there were no cars in the driveway. There

were usually one or two cars present at all times, since some of the brothers chose to live with
Gabriel rather than on their own. But with Rafe still missing, it was possible his brothers were out
hunting for him. Gio especially wouldn’t give up until Rafe was safe at home with them.

The front door opened just as Dante reached for the bell. Gabriel smiled, waving him inside. “I

was wondering when you would show up.”

Dante entered the warmth of the angel’s home, a sense of peace and purpose filling him. He always

felt safe in Gabriel’s house. The angel wouldn’t allow any harm to come to him.

But he had a job to do. “I’m having some difficulty with the hunts.” Gabriel led the way to the

kitchen. Usually they discussed business in Gabriel’s living room, but today his boss looked tired,
worn down. “Damien and Seth are helping to hunt down the Shem Angelus, but so far we haven’t had
any luck finding him.” Dante took a deep breath. “He made a threat I’m taking very seriously.”

Gabriel froze in the act of pulling open the fridge. “What did he say?”
“Something about my woman not surviving the week.”
Gabriel pulled out a can of cola and handed it over before grabbing a ginger ale for himself. “You

don’t have a woman. Not anymore.”

Dante could feel his cheeks begin to burn. Damn it, he hated blushing, especially in front of

Gabriel. It was so fucking unmanly. “I have a date tonight.”

“Who?”
“Elizabeth Rand.” Gabriel coughed and turned away, but not before Dante saw the smirk on his

face. “It’s not funny. How in the hell did the Shem figure out I’m seeing someone?”

“Good question.” Gabriel turned back around and popped the top on the can. “Most Shem work

alone.”

“So this guy is shadowing me? Great.”
“Or he’s shadowing Elizabeth.” Gabriel’s unease seemed to match Dante’s own.
Dante gritted his teeth. He’d rather find that the Angelus was watching him. At least he could

defend himself against it. Elizabeth didn’t stand a chance. “What do I do to protect her?”

“She knows about us. Tell your brothers what was said.”
“Damien and Seth were both there when the Shem threatened her. They know already.”
Gabriel took a sip of his soda. “Then I’ll inform your other brothers as well. They’ll keep their

eyes open. If the Shem is shadowing her, they’ll help protect her.”

“Even Piotr?” As if. The man hated him.
Gabriel’s brows rose. “I trust in him.”
Dante winced. He knew a reprimand when he heard one. But how to explain that Piotr set off every

instinct he had? The man was bad news, and no one but he and Damien seemed to see it. “There’s just
something about him that bothers me. He never comes here. He never takes part in meetings unless
they’re mandatory. He uses his business as a shield to keep the rest of us at bay. What is he hiding?”

“Dante...” Gabriel sighed. “If I told you I know why Piotr stays apart from the rest of us, will you

give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“Maybe.” He ignored the slight shake of Gabriel’s head. The angel might be disappointed in him,

but until Dante was satisfied Piotr wasn’t a threat, he was holding on to his suspicions. Even Gabriel
could be fooled. He glanced down at his watch. “I’d better get going. Elizabeth is expecting me.”

“Consider her your top priority. If the Angelus has targeted her, you know what her fate may be.”
Dante shuddered. “Yeah.” The fear and anger that rose within him called forth his inner fire. It

danced along his arms, raced down his spine. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“When it’s time, bring her to me.” Gabriel’s serene expression baffled him.
“Time for what?”
“You’ll know.” Gabriel took the soda from him and escorted him to the front door.
“And the Azar?”
“You’ll find him with Elizabeth’s help. If you need the others, they’ll come.” Gabriel opened the

door, letting in the frigid air. “Enjoy your date, Dante.”

“Thanks. Stay safe, my brother.”
The pleasure that lit Gabriel’s expression whenever one of them spoke that phrase to him was

bright. “Stay safe, my brother.”

Dante left Gabriel’s home feeling more confused than when he arrived, but at least Gabriel now

knew Elizabeth was in danger. That alone had made the trip worth it. Gabriel would never allow any
harm to come to a human one of his Neph cared about, and Dante found he cared far more than he was
completely comfortable with.

Elizabeth was nothing like Lillian. Already she’d proven she was his equal in many ways. The

knowledge that he had a partner who was worthy of bringing before Gabriel and the others, one who
didn’t shy away from the supernatural parts of his existence, told him more about how he’d felt about
Lillian than anything possibly could have. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d cheated on him that had
ruined their marriage. He’d needed someone who matched his fire.

He’d needed Elizabeth. And he’d do everything in his power to make sure her flame never went

out.

Chapter Nine

Dante showed up on the stroke of seven, clutching a single red rose in his hand. Beth was oddly
touched at the old-fashioned gesture. The romance behind it wasn’t something she was used to. Most
of the men she dated took her to ball games and bought her hot dogs and soft pretzels.

It was sweet, and not something she would have expected from him.
She smiled as she took the rose. “Thank you.”
Dante cleared his throat. “You look good.”
She’d chosen to dress simply for their first date, in the same black leather jeans that she’d worn the

night before in the club. She’d paired them with a hot pink turtleneck sweater that played peek-a-boo
with her midriff. The sleeves hid the bruise on her arm.

She didn’t want any reminders of the asshole he’d put on the ground getting in the way of their date.
“So do you.” The tight red button-down shirt and black jeans hugged his body in all the right

places. She waved him into her apartment and tried not to react to the heat in his gaze. “I can’t
remember the last time someone brought me flowers.” She put a small bud vase under the faucet and
filled it with water, then carefully arranged the rose and baby’s breath within until she was satisfied
with the arrangement. She looked up to see Dante watching her, a strange smile on his face. “What?”

“Sorry, for a moment there you actually looked domesticated.” He grinned as she bared her teeth at

him. “Want to come over here and try that?” he asked softly.

Beth took a deep breath and reminded herself not to rise to the bait. Rising to the bait was what had

gotten her into this mess. The last thing she needed to do was fall for her partner. “We’re going
dancing, remember?”

“Right. You decided to challenge the ‘old man.’ Still think I don’t have what it takes to keep up

with you?”

She wasn’t certain, but she didn’t think they were talking about dancing anymore. “We’ll just have

to wait and see, won’t we?” She reached for her jacket and put it on, then pulled her purse over her
shoulder. She dug her keys out of her pocket and guided him out of the apartment, locking the door.

No going back now, she thought as they walked down the stairs to his car. She just hoped they

weren’t both making the biggest mistake of their lives.

The restaurant he chose was quiet and intimate, the seafood excellent. “I thought the traditional first

date was dinner and a movie.”

“Only if you’re still a poor college student. At the very least, if you’re going to take a woman to a

movie, you have to make sure there are subtitles or it doesn’t count.”

The disgust in his voice had her grinning. “Gotten complaints before?”
He looked perplexed. “No, it’s not that. Just once, I’d like to take a woman out on a date and not

feel that I haven’t managed to live up to her expectations.”

The honesty of the reply surprised her. She let out a small laugh. “You don’t have to worry about

that with me. So far I don’t have any expectations.” She toyed with her angel hair pasta. The food was
delicious, but she was so nervous that she hadn’t been able to take more than a mouthful of it. Hell,
she was still shocked she’d said yes, despite her attraction to him.

This was so not going to end well.
“Hmm. You keep picking at your food like that and I’ll have to carry you onto the dance floor.” The

look on his face was warm with sensuality.

“Pfft. In your dreams.” She took a huge mouthful of the pasta and nearly choked on it.
“Oh, yeah, that’s much better. I’ve dreamed of performing the Heimlich on you.”
She glared at him as she chewed vigorously on the pasta. His only response was a challenging grin.

“I don’t have to put up with abuse, you know,” she replied once she’d swallowed.

“I bet there are people just lining up to abuse you.”
“Ha ha. That’s very funny, Mr. Charming.”
“That would be Detective Charming to you.”
She’d never expected to actually have fun on the date. “How many princesses did you have to suck

up to before one would finally kiss you?”

He raised one golden brow. “Ribbit.”
She couldn’t help herself. She dissolved into helpless laughter. Not even the self-satisfied

expression on his face could dampen it.

He held up a forkful of his shrimp scampi and offered her a bite. “Want to try something different?”
She felt the laughter die away, to be replaced by wariness. It wasn’t just a bite of shrimp he was

offering. If she accepted that stupid, buttery shrimp, she’d also be accepting the man who went with it.

Beth was nothing if not cautious. She never took a serious life-altering step without analyzing it to

death, resurrecting it, and then analyzing it some more. The fact that Dante was a Nephilim, like Seth,
should have had her running out the door and back to her apartment.

As much as she wanted to look into the puzzle of the Neph, she just wasn’t sure she wanted to get

involved with one.

Especially one as stubborn as Dante Zucco.
Dante’s gaze dared her to run, and she swore his eyes glowed with fiery light.
Damn it to hell.
She accepted the proffered bite.

* * *

Dante was enjoying himself more with Elizabeth than he’d thought possible. Once in the club, she’d
pulled him out onto the dance floor with an enthusiasm he’d found enchanting. She’d done her best to
dance him into the ground too, and had been surprised—unpleasantly so to judge by her expression—
when he’d not only managed to keep up but had begun to outlast her.

It was hard going, though. Watching her body move in those tight pants and sweater had his blood

pumping in a way that had nothing to do with dancing and everything to do with the way her ass shook
in those sinful leather pants. He wondered if she’d move with that same sensuality and energy if she
was under him in bed.

Just the thought of it was enough to send him back out onto the dance floor, fantasies flitting one

after another as he pulled her tight against him. It was all he could do not to drag her off the dance
floor and into one of the shadowed corners to devour her.

It was pure torture to feel her move against him, smiling like the cat who’d gotten the cream. He

told himself over and over again that he’d end the evening, leave before things got to the point of no
return, but they’d passed that stage way before he’d had a chance to react. Now, all he could do was
watch, and want her.

And he did want her, to the point of madness. It was insane, how badly he wanted Elizabeth. She

was everything he’d thought he didn’t want in a woman, all hard planes and angles, no softness or
give to her at all. She would challenge him every chance she got, fight him every step of the way, and
in general make his life...

Interesting.
At least he’d never be bored.
He’d be able to talk about work without fear that she’d demand more than he could give, and he’d

be able to return the favor. She even knew his deepest secret, yet here she was, rubbing against him
and making him crazy. She teased him, tantalized him and challenged him in ways she probably didn’t
even realize. He wanted her under him, over him, any way he could get her. He wanted to fuck her
over and over again until they both were drained, exhausted. He wanted to know if she would use her
nails on his skin, and how it would feel to watch her shatter in his arms. If he could get her to that
point, they would be explosive together.

Neither of them was the type for a one-night stand. He knew enough about her background to know

that she’d never go for that sort of relationship. A not-so-quick phone call to Lakisha had told him
more than just Elizabeth’s home life had sucked.

Her mother bounced from man to man, never thinking of the consequences of her actions. If his

information was correct, she was on the verge of leaving husband number five, and had had numerous
affairs, married or not.

And her father was absentee, leaving Elizabeth in her mother’s hands.
It had left a mark on her. Instead of becoming like her parents, she was loyal, dedicated and—
She wriggled her ass against his aching erection.
And absolutely the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
It was all he could do to keep his hands off her ass and on her waist, but even that was a

temptation. That barely there strip of smooth skin teased him to push that sweater up, cup her small
breasts in his hands. He bet they’d fit in his palms, the perfect size to toy with.

She pulled his head down. “Thirsty?”
He nodded, but before he could move she walked away from him toward the bar. She’d insisted,

since he’d paid for dinner and the admission to the club, on buying all the drinks. He didn’t mind. He
didn’t plan on drinking much, anyway. He’d need a clear head to deal with his throbbing dick once
they were back at her apartment.

He wanted her, but he wasn’t going to fuck her.
Not tonight.
No matter how badly he wanted to.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the asshole from the other night, the one who’d put a bruise on

her. The jerk noticed him at roughly the same time and flinched.

Good. Let the fucker keep on going. In fact, Dante should just follow behind him and encourage him

to leave the club altogether.

Maybe even the state.
Hell, Delaware was kind of small. He could force the guy to head toward the West coast.
“What are you scowling at?” Elizabeth yelled in his ear over the music.
He turned to her and took his drink. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair had decided to do its

own thing, going wild around her face. She looked like she’d just been made love to. “The jerk who

gave you the bruise saw me.”

Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “He’s here?”
He could see the speculative look as she glanced around and decided to head her off at the pass.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her away. “He’s not worth it, Elizabeth.”

Just as he pulled her onto the dance floor, the fast-paced music gave way to a slow, dreamy tune.

Trying not to think of the consequences, Dante pulled Elizabeth into his arms and began to dance.

What scared him, and made him determined to protect her over everyone else, was the fact that she

fitted against him as if they were made for each other. That sensation Seth had tried once to describe
to him, the one that told his brother that Abby was the woman for him, now made perfect sense.

Elizabeth Rand was his, whether she knew it or not.
“Fuck me sideways.”
He blinked, shocked. “What?”
She wasn’t looking at him, but over his shoulder. “Todd Blessing is in the club.”
He cursed under his breath and turned them so he could see the would-be governor and his

companion. “Is that Kensington with him?”

“Yup.” The heat of passion no longer lit her features. Instead, his girl was on the hunt, watching

Blessing and Kensington with an intensity he was all too familiar with.

Something about the way the two of them moved, the way they kept darting peeks to each other and

away again put Dante on alert. The moment they made a move to leave the club he followed, aware
Elizabeth wasn’t too far behind him.

Something was up, something weird, and he was going to find out what. He grabbed their jackets

and her purse out of their booth and hurried after the two men. He managed to keep them in sight
almost to the parking lot, watching as the two men climbed into a gold Lincoln and sped off into the
night.

“Damn.” Her shoulders sagged. “Tell me I’m not the only one who thinks something strange is

going on.”

“You aren’t.” Dante began steering her toward his car. “Let’s see if we can find them.”
Beth shook her head. “I think they’re long gone, but I’m game if you are.”
She stepped around the hood of his car to slide into the passenger seat when something set off an

alarm bell. He turned his head just in time to see the dark truck speeding toward her.

She had no time to react. She was going to get hit.
He leapt over the hood of the car and yanked her on top of it just as the truck side-swiped his

sedan. Dante was thrown off the hood and landed against the curb, sending searing pain through his
shoulder and arm.

“Dante!” Beth landed next to him as the dark truck sped off into the night, barely slowing down to

right itself as it took off.

He sat up with a groan and a hastily bit off curse. He was pretty sure he was only bruised. More

importantly, someone had tried to kill Elizabeth.

Someone had tried to kill the woman who meant more to him than anything. It was all he could do

not to burst into flame on the spot.

He stepped around the hood of his car, and examined the huge dent the dark truck had put in it, in

utter silence. When he finally looked at her, the fact that she was perfectly all right couldn’t still the
violence in him.

Someone was going to die for this, for trying to snuff out Elizabeth’s life.

* * *

“Well,” she sighed as she inserted her key into her lock, “you certainly are a fun date.”

He hadn’t said a word since the police had left them alone. There hadn’t been much to tell them,

but Dante would need to fill in a report for his chief the following day.

She felt extremely disappointed. The date had started out wonderfully, only to end in near disaster.
At least before this he’d talked to her, even if it was to yell at her or tease her, or even threaten her

with jail time. Now he just stared into space—the only sign that he was still alive the occasional
clenching of his hands.

She opened her door, the warm light from her kitchen that she always left on spilling out into the

cold night to illuminate the harsh planes of Dante’s face. She grinned ruefully. “I actually had a good
time tonight, up until we almost died. Thanks, Dante.” She turned away from him with a wave and
started into her apartment, but when she went to shut the door she found his hand holding it open.

“You’re off the case.”
She stared up at him, shocked. His stare was implacable, his tone ice cold. He meant what he’d

said. “What happened tonight was not my fault, Dante.”

“I know that.” He wasn’t giving an inch, and his tone set her hackles up.
“Look, I have as much interest, maybe even more now, in seeing Blake’s murderer put in jail. You

think you can tell me to give this case up?” She stepped outside again and punched her finger into his
chest. “You’ve got another think coming if you think some jerk with a driver’s license and a vendetta
is going to get rid of me that easily! I. Don’t. Give. Up.” She punctuated each word with a hard jab,
but he didn’t even budge. “Not you, not your boss, no one is going to pull me off this case. You got
that, Detective?”

He stared down at her for a long moment. She found herself breathing heavily, waiting for the

counterattack.

When it came, she was totally taken by surprise.
She let out a small shriek when he picked her up under her arms and lifted her easily into her

apartment. He gently set her down in her living room, turned and slammed her door closed.

When he began to stalk toward her, she swallowed the urge to back up. His face looked as if it was

made from granite, his expression hot and hard and focused one hundred percent on her. She faced
him head on, ready for the fight she knew was coming.

“You’ve been threatened, twice.”
“Twice?”
He took a deep breath. “A Shem Angelus told me you wouldn’t survive the week. Two days later,

someone tries to kill you.”

A shiver went down her spine. “You think it was a Shem behind the wheel.”
“I’m taking you to Gabriel.” Fire danced within his eyes, eclipsing the iris almost completely. It

should have creeped her the hell out, but instead she found it erotic. “You’ll be safe there until I catch
this fucker.”

He wasn’t listening. She was not going to hide away while he faced the bad guy alone. “I don’t

think so.”

“You can’t face a Shem, Beth.” It was the first time he’d ever shortened her name, and strangely

enough, she missed the way he said Elizabeth. “You’re human.”

“I took care of Diana.”
“That was pure dumb luck.”
“And good aim.” No way was he going to dismiss how she’d saved Abby and Seth.
He took hold of her arms and shook her. “He will fucking eat you, Beth. I’ve seen the bodies, I

know what a Shem kill looks like. I won’t find you the same way.”

No matter how his voice shook, whether it was from rage or fear or a combination of both,

Elizabeth Rand had taken on a case. Just because the suspect was now some mythological creature
that ate people made no difference to her. “I’m staying on the case.”

He growled, flames licking up and down his arms. Strangely enough, his fire didn’t burn her.
“Dante. Stop it.”
“Damn it, Elizabeth.” When he put his mouth on hers she nearly whimpered. His lips were rough,

demanding against hers, and she found herself unable to hold back her response. Her arms twined
around his neck, both of her hands clenched in his hair as she urged him closer. She barely heard his
groan as he forced her lips apart and tasted her. Lightning raced through her body as he invaded her
mouth.

She found his taste intoxicating, far more so than the single rum and Coke she’d allowed herself at

the dance club.

Suddenly she found herself being held up against the wall, Dante thrusting one powerful thigh

between her legs as he ravished her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair, gripping her head so tightly
it almost hurt. She felt the scrape of his teeth against her lips and moaned greedily, answering his
demands with her own.

She rode his thigh without thought, a sensuous rhythm that sent heat racing through her body. His

mouth moved from hers to her neck, his teeth biting, nibbling, leaving his mark on her. Gasping, she
threw her head back as far as the wall would allow.

She wanted his mark, needed it to prove they were both alive.
His hands were rough under her sweater, pulling the material up and cupping her breasts. Her

hands clenched in his hair, pulling him down as she felt his teeth scrape against her. When he lifted
his head, his breathing had turned harsh.

She looked up at him through fogged glasses. Before he could say a word, she dragged his mouth

down to hers and returned his kiss hungrily. She could feel a tremendous orgasm building, her spine
tingling as his lips and his hands continued to torment her.

She felt his erection against her hip as his body eased sideways down against her own, that thick

thigh staying right where she needed it to be. His hands caressed her as his mouth ravaged hers,
pinching and twisting at her nipples, and she shuddered. One hand slid down his chest and landed at
the belt of his pants, tugging at the buckle.

When he pulled back and dropped her it was a shock to her senses. She stared up at him, unable to

decipher the look on his face as he ran a shaking hand through his hair.

“Not like this,” he said huskily, still breathing hard.
“What?” she asked, confused and quivering. “Not what?”
He shook his head. “Not here. Not now.” He took a deep, cleansing breath. “Not while we’re

pissed at each other.”

She licked her lips and tasted him. His gaze followed the movement before he closed his eyes and

turned away from her to pace the tiny living room. “What’s wrong with here and now?”

He turned swiftly and growled at her, “Because you just nearly got killed.”
She smiled cynically. “Oh, so you’re not really into quick adrenaline fucks.” Even she was

surprised at the brittle tone she used. She’d been this close, and to have him pull back at the last
minute? Pure torture.

She found herself pinned against the wall faster than she could blink. “Because when I fuck you it

won’t be because of adrenaline. It won’t be because either of us wants a quick fuck, either.” He
sighed and released her arms, placing his hands on either side of her head. “You are not your mother,
and I won’t use you like some cheap whore because I got all excited. When we go to bed together,
and we will go to bed together, it will damn well be because neither one of us can resist the other.
Not for any other reason.”

“I wasn’t resisting, and if you were you’re a damned good actor.”
He took her chin gently in his hand and rubbed his thumb against her bottom lip. Her breath caught

at the contact, at the look in his eyes as he bent and kissed her gently, sweetly, before putting her away
from him. “It’s called respect, Elizabeth, for both of us.” He grinned ruefully. “Believe it or not, no
matter what you think, I do respect you.”

He turned away with a rough sigh and headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, partner.” He

opened the door and let himself out.

She ran after him, leaning over the stair rail. “Dante!” she yelled down softly.
“What?” He looked up to see her leaning over the railing, her dark hair a halo around her face,

highlighting her mischievous grin, and felt relief and something else he didn’t dare put a name to.

“I’m no princess.”
Dante grinned up at her. “Ribbit.”
She laughed, running back into her apartment and slamming the door behind her.

Chapter Ten

Beth woke up the next morning wondering if last night had been a mistake of epic proportions.
Kissing Dante had turned out to be more than she’d bargained for. She couldn’t believe how much
she’d wanted to drag him into her bedroom and ride him like a rodeo pony.

“Yee-haw.”
She snorted out a laugh as she stood and padded into her bathroom. Jeez. She was getting all soft,

letting the guy get to her. She had a case to work on and a bad guy to catch. She could worry about her
relationship with Dante once the bad guy was behind bars.

When she turned on the light she found herself staring in total disbelief at the huge love bite on her

neck.

Or, she could just kill him as soon as she saw him.
That worked for her.
There was no hiding the thing with makeup. She tried every trick in the book to make it not show,

and nothing worked. She finally pulled on one of her turtlenecks. It was the only way to hide the damn
thing.

Just as she finished dressing a knock came on the door. Beth cursed and opened it.
Dante stood there, a bag of donuts in one hand and two cups of coffee in a holder in the other.

“Good morning.” His gaze drifted over her, lingering on the spot where he’d bitten her the night
before.

If the man looked any smugger she was going to knock his ass out and...
No. She’d steal the coffee first. No sense wasting it on the hard concrete floors outside her

apartment. Then she’d knock his ass out. “One of those had better be for me, or you can get the hell
out of here.”

Without a word, he set the donuts down on the battered coffee table and handed her a cup of liquid

bliss.

She flopped boneless into one of her old, tattered chairs and stretched her legs out. “Mmm.”
He seated himself on the sofa across from her and opened the bag. “Jelly or plain?”
“Plain.” She lifted the lid off her coffee and dipped the plain donut into it, watching as he shrugged

out of his jacket. He’d chosen dark blue again, this time a pull-over sweater, matched with dark gray
pants. He looked good, and she had a hard time taking her eyes off of him.

“Before we begin today, there’s something I need to know.” He leaned back in his chair, trying far

too hard to look relaxed, but his tense shoulders gave him away.

“What?”
“Is there anything in this world I can say that would get you off this case and safely at Gabriel’s?”

His gaze was solemn.

She checked her initial response. She dearly wanted to drink the coffee, no matter how much he

deserved to wear it. Shem or no Shem, she had a job to do. “Nope.”

He sighed roughly. “I thought not, but decided to check anyway.” He took a bite of his donut.

“Okay. I want you to promise me something.”

She looked at him suspiciously. He was taking her answer far too easily. “And that would be?”
There wasn’t a hint of softness in his gaze. “You and I stick together.”

“I thought that was the plan.”
“Elizabeth.”
She shrugged and sipped her coffee, waiting to see what he’d say or do next. She just bet he was

going to try to get her to have security, or have off-duty cops hanging around her apartment all the
time. Hell, he might even get his Neph brothers to help out.

She was debating whether or not to fight him on that. She could take care of herself, but the thought

of Dante being worried enough that he had to try one last time to remove her from the case sent more
warmth through her than coffee ever could.

“I don’t like the fact that someone tried to run you down yesterday. I’m wondering if you know

something or saw something that might have triggered a response from the killer.”

“That had occurred to me.” Beth took another sip of coffee. “The only thing we did, really, was

talk to that accountant and Romanov. And I don’t see Romanov as the type to run anyone down.”

Dante made a rude noise. “If he thought she’d gotten too close to something he didn’t want her to

see, he’d run over his own mother.”

“Dante—”
He held up his hand. “I know the man. You don’t. And I don’t trust him further than I can throw

him.”

“Yet several of my friends, and at least one of yours, does. Shouldn’t you give him the benefit of

the doubt?”

“If you knew him the way I do you wouldn’t ask that.”
Elizabeth decided to play one of her hunches. “He’s one of you, isn’t he?”
He nodded. “He’s the only kind of Neph that feeds off others.”
She sipped her coffee and waited. From his expression, Dante was just dying to tell her how mad,

bad and dangerous Piotr Romanov was.

She was right. “Piotr’s a Cambion. He feeds off the sexual energy of his partners or those he’s near

who happen to be...” His face was bright red.

Her brows rose. “Fucking?” He scowled. “So he’s some kind of energy vampire.”
“It’s more than that. If he kills as he feeds, even accidentally, he becomes Shem, an Incubus. He’ll

kill every time he feeds, becoming more and more powerful the more people he drains. There is
always a chance a Cambion will turn against us.”

“So if he wasn’t a Cambion, you’d trust him?”
“No. I think he’s related to the leader of the Shem. They have the same eyes and the same last

name.” Dante scowled. “Add in that he’s a Cambion and you’ve got a recipe for Shem stew.”

That explained at least some of the attitude. He couldn’t trust Piotr to keep his instincts in check.

“Does this happen to every Cambion?” If so, Beth needed to get Andi away from him, preferably
sooner rather than later.

He sighed roughly. “Not...exactly.”
“Dante.” He was hiding something.
“A Cambion who finds his One, the soul born just to feed him, doesn’t turn.”
She blinked. “Are you kidding me? Like a romance heroine, fated mate kind of crap?”
He rolled his eyes as she started to laugh. “Elizabeth. This is serious.”
“Oh, Sam is gonna love this.”
“No.” Dante’s growl killed her laughter. “You can’t tell anyone about us. Not Sam, not Andi, no

one. Not only could you endanger us, but you’d make them a target for the Shem who want to hide just
as much as we do. And the Shem won’t think twice about taking their lives in order to protect
themselves.”

“So Abby and I are the only ones who know the Neph exist.” It made sense, even if she didn’t like

it. Abby didn’t have any more information than she did about outsiders being aware of the existence
of the Shem and the Neph, and Beth hadn’t been entirely comfortable bringing it up with Seth around.
Seth would just smile at her and tell her that it was someone else’s job to give her the information she
wanted.

The man drove Beth crazy, but he worshipped the ground Abby walked on. For that, he got a lot of

brownie points.

Dante’s relief was obvious. “Yes. There will be others, wives, lovers, who know, but the circle of

humans that know will be small. It has to be that way, for our safety and theirs.”

She latched on to the one thing he’d said that she wasn’t. “I’m none of those things.”
“Yet.”
He held her gaze until her cheeks flushed. He was right. They would be lovers, but not now, not

today.

Today they had a case to crack. “We need to get back to work.” Pulling out her notebook, she

ignored his knowing smile.

Dante flipped his own notebook open. “I double-checked Cranston. He doesn’t have a driver’s

license. He takes the bus everywhere.”

She sighed. “We know it wasn’t Kensington or Blessing, because both of them were together. We

saw them get into a completely different car and drive away.”

“And the driver of the dark truck was alone.” He sipped his coffee thoughtfully.
“So, who does that leave?” Beth stared at him over the rim of her cup.
“Oates. Grahame. Messinger.” He ticked down a mental list. She didn’t like the look on his face.

“Blake.”

She blinked. “Jonathan Blake? Why would he try to kill me?”
“Maybe because you were the first to uncover rumors that Jennifer had been sleeping around on

him. That kind of thing can drive a man insane, maybe even make him want to cover it up. It would
ruin the image of the perfect family he thought he had and tarnish his wife’s memory. Have you
reported anything to him yet?”

She shook her head slowly. “Not yet. I wasn’t sure how much to present to him at first. Just the fact

that she was more than likely having an affair is going to devastate him.”

“Yeah, I know how he feels,” he replied tightly.
“What?”
He grimaced. “My ex-wife cheated on me.” The grimace turned into a wry grin. “With a private

detective.”

“Sorry.” She patted his knee. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Oh, my God. She wished she had a camera. That wary look on his face, like he was in bloody

water surrounded by hungry sharks, was priceless. “Why?”

She almost laughed. She hadn’t seen such reluctance since the first time she asked Sammie to go to

the gym. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just, whenever I have a failed relationship I like to talk about it.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Let’s break out the double chocolate ice cream. You get the facial

cream, I’ll get the hot cocoa. We can boot up The Odd Couple and totally bond over what pricks
women are.” He looked almost constipated, his features scrunching up in pain. “Are we done now? I
think we’re done. Please say we’re done?”

She laughed so hard she almost fell out of her chair. “Why don’t you want to talk about it?” She

shot him a mock-glare that had him shuddering in horror. “Is there something you’re hiding?”

“Nope.” He grinned weakly, looking hunted. “I like football. Do you like football? My favorite

team is the Ravens.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Dante, I just want to know about your feelings.”
“No, not the feelings!” he shrieked, sounding remarkably like a little girl for such a big guy. “The

feelings! It burns us, my precious!”

By the time she was done laughing she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “Okay, all jokes aside, I

really am sorry things didn’t work out for you.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be, because I’m not. Once I got over the hurt and wounded pride, I realized

that Lillian and I were never supposed to be together. She wanted things I couldn’t give her, and vice
versa. I’m just glad I never told her the truth about me.” He smiled slowly, his expression turning
almost sly.

Uh-oh. That look did not bode well for Beth. “What?”
“When you make a commitment, you stick to it, don’t you?”
“Come hell or high water.” No way he’s getting me off this case. A strange smile flitted across his

face, making her very uneasy. “You’re up to something.”

“Me?”
Pfft. Like she was buying that innocent look. She just shook her head and finished her coffee and

donut, standing up to throw away the mess before grabbing her jacket. “I’m not leaving the case,
Dante. Give it up.”

He stood as soon as she did and followed her out the door. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Stubborn man. “Damn it, Dante. Give it a rest.”
He caressed her arm with a gentle touch and she froze. She looked at him, and what she saw in his

face had her trembling in response. When he eased aside the neck of her sweater and saw the bite on
her neck she shivered, and not from the cold. He caressed the mark gently. The feel of his skin against
hers was intoxicating, even in so light a caress. “You will stay safe, you hear me?”

She nodded, her jaw tight with the conflicting emotions racing through her. On the one hand, his

protectiveness made her want to melt. On the other, he’d just staked his claim to her, something she’d
never thought of allowing any man to do.

But with Dante, it felt natural. Right. She leaned in to the touch, ignoring the small purr that left his

lips.

If the possessive way he curled his arm around her waist was anything to go by, it was far too late

to protest. And in all honesty, she didn’t want to.

“Let’s go, tesoro.” He headed down the stairs, half dragging her along with him. Halfway to the

parking lot, her cell phone rang, the number as familiar as her own. “Yo.”

“I got a lead on some of the cash. Can we talk?” Sam sounded almost as excited as she had been

the day before.

Beth stopped walking, forcing Dante to pull up short. “Now may not be a good time.”
“Now may be the best time. I’ve put a tracer on the cash, and you’re not going to believe where it

is. You’ve got to come over.”

Beth pulled the cell phone away from her ear and sighed. Sam had hung up without another word,

and now she was stuck with trying to figure out how to ditch Dante without making him wary.

She decided to try the direct approach. “Dante?”
He turned to face her, his key in the lock of the driver’s side door of the Eclipse he must have

rented that morning. The ugly beige sedan was hopefully history. The thing screamed “cop.” Who
drove their cop car off-duty? “Yes?”

“You know that informant who gave me the information about Romanov’s funds?” He nodded

warily. She must not have guarded her expression as well as she’d hoped. “The informant needs to
speak with me.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “Get in. I’ll drive.”
She stood outside the car, not touching the handle. “The informant won’t talk to police. I’m sorry. I

have to go alone.”

“No, you don’t. Either I drive and wait in the car or you don’t go. Period.”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“You think I’m being overprotective? You almost got killed last night. I’m not letting you out of my

sight even if I have to break out the handcuffs.” He released her abruptly, opening the door of the
Eclipse. “Get. In.”

She stared up at him, aware she wasn’t getting out of this easily. He just stood there, immovable as

a mountain, and about as thick. “Dante, if she sees you with me she won’t talk.”

He actually laughed. “Sam can talk to you while I wait in the car.”
She blinked. “What makes you think we’re going to see Sam?”
“Apparently I have Stupid tattooed on my forehead this morning.” He took her purse and put it on

the passenger-side seat. “Look, I don’t know if I want to know how she got that data, so I’ll wait in
the car like a good little boy and play Angry Birds or something. Just promise to share what you find
out.”

“I would think a cop would have a problem with getting information from an outside source like

this.”

“A cop would, yes. But Mrs. Blake was killed by a Shem, which means I’m acting in my capacity

as a warrior of the Nephilim. In hunting one of them, I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Good.” Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “Because you’ve got mine, whether you like it or

not.”

“I don’t, but I’ll take it. For now.”
“You are a royal pain in my ass, do you know that?” But that didn’t stop her from sliding into the

seat, strangely relieved. If anything got past Dante to her, it would be because he was unconscious or
dead.

“Not yet, but I’m always hopeful.” He shut the door on her protest, laughing when he saw her

glaring at him.

They drove in silence, pulling up outside of Sam’s ranch-style house with not another word spoken.

Beth got out of the car and started up the cement walkway to the house. Glancing back, she saw
Dante’s head lowered over his cell phone, the cutest little frown of frustration on his face. He looked
all settled in for the duration of her visit. She smiled and shook her head at the picture he made.

He looked like a cop on a stake-out. Sam was going to be tickled pink.

But Sam barely glanced out the door before dragging her inside. “You’re not going to believe what

I’ve found.” Sam was practically bouncing as she led Beth into her office.

Sam had every commercially produced computer-related gadget known to man. Her wireless

network would put NASA’s to shame. Her smartphone was linked to the network and could access
any file Sam needed from wherever she was in the house. She had speakers hooked up for music, and
a digital drawing pad for doodling and anything else she felt like using it for. She had two top of the
line laptops, one travel sized, one with a graphics card that would make a professional animator
drool with envy.

If it was computer related, Sam owned it.
The room showed the quirky personality of its owner off to a tee. The dark wine-colored walls

were covered in reproduction posters of nineteen-forties ads. The floor lamp and chair in the corner
were so dark and gothic she expected to see Piotr Romanov sitting there, reading and sipping brandy.
The desk where Sam did most of her work was huge, taking up most of the room, yet she’d managed
to tidily bundle all of the hardware’s wires into wire holders designed to hide them from view. The
room was neat as a pin, all Sam’s files in two dark-stained filing cabinets. If Sam needed something,
she could lay her hand on it within moments.

Sam sat at her desk and typed a few commands. A file came up immediately, and Beth leaned over

Sam’s shoulder to read it.

“Kensington? What’s this?”
Sam grinned ferociously. “Robert Kensington’s bank files. He’s been receiving payments in the

amount of two thousand dollars a month, starting three months before the murder.”

Beth whistled. “Someone’s been a very naughty boy.”
“Yes, he was. And guess what else I found? Right after the murder, the amount deposited?” Sam

waited until Beth was looking at her instead of the screen. “Twenty grand.”

“Shit. Where did the money come from?” She thought she already knew the answer.
“Todd Blessing’s campaign fund.”
Beth sighed deeply, a huge grin on her face. Bingo. “Blackmail?”
Sam shrugged. “What else? Any idea what he was being blackmailed for?” Sam tapped a few more

commands into the computer, and dragged up another file. This one showed the Blessing campaign’s
previous bank statements.

“Not a clue,” Beth said absently, reading the file. “No, wait, go back one.”
“There?”
“Son of a bitch. I thought he wasn’t in their files.” But there were the contributions, neatly outlined

in Sam’s document.

“Well, you know, that’s the funny thing. I went back and double-checked my work, just to make

sure I hadn’t missed anything, and the whole original file was gone. Deleted.”

Someone had tried to erase the Romanov file, to cover their tracks.
Finally, she had a solid lead. “Were you able to retrieve anything?”
“I can do better. I can tell you who deleted the file.” Sam’s fingers flew, bringing up document

after document, all of them labeled Romanov.

Beth looked at Sam. “Who?”
“Sylvester Oates.”
“Who?”

Sam shrugged. “Sylvester Oates.” She frowned up at Beth. “Who’s Sylvester Oates?”
“Good question,” Beth replied, staring at the glowing screen.

* * *

The thoughtful expression on her face as she slid into the car had him putting his phone away. “What
did she find out?”

“That Mr. Kensington has been naughty in more ways than one, and that we need to check into

Sylvester Oates a little further than we already have.”

“How so?”
“Kensington’s been receiving payments in the amount of two thousand dollars a month, starting

three months before the murder. Right after the murder, the amount deposited into his account was
twenty grand. And it all came from the Todd Blessing campaign.”

“And Oates?”
“Sam says he’s the one who erased all of the Romanov files.”
“So Piotr lied to us after all.”
“Mmm.” Beth was staring out the window, her expression blank, but Dante was coming to realize

that meant she was in deep thought. “He never actually denied giving money to the campaign.”

Dante frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He said things like ‘You’d think I’d notice missing money,’ and ‘Romanov Enterprises is not

interested in politics.’ He never once said ‘I didn’t give them money.’”

“Still, why would he try and hide it?”
“Do you guys have a problem with giving money to politicians?”
“You guys?” He chuckled. “And no, our private lives are our own. If, say, Blessing were a Shem,

that would be different.”

“Unless he was hoping to flush out a Shem and was using his contributions to do so.”
He looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “Thinking out loud, mostly, but what if Piotr suspected that Blessing’s

campaign had been infested? Could he have used his money to try and flush them out? I mean, does he
hunt the way you and Seth do, chasing after the bad guy, or is he the kind to work behind the scenes?”

Dante blew out a breath. She had a good point, one he’d have to think about. “I’ve never seen him

on an actual hunt. He’s not my partner.”

“I thought Seth was your partner. You’re the one who showed up and helped him deal with Diana

after...” Her expression wavered for a second, and he knew she was remembering how she’d been
forced to shoot the Shem, killing it. She had been strong enough to defend her friend, but everyone had
nightmares about their first kill, even Dante.

“I work with Seth and...someone else. I’m not at liberty to say who, though. Usually we work in

threes for safety’s sake.”

“All right. Don’t tell me.” She smirked at him. “It’s not like I won’t eventually figure it out on my

own.”

She would too, but he didn’t mind as much as he might have once. She’d be his soon enough and

know the full truth anyway, and maybe the puzzle would keep that overactive brain of hers occupied
while he took care of the Shem. “Tell me about Oates.”

“Oates had a file on Romanov deleted from the campaign’s computers. And I’ve got the proof.”

She pulled a sheaf of papers from inside her jacket. “Right down to his IP address.”

“Do you think it might have been Oates trying to run you over last night?” he asked quietly. She

shrugged. “It should be easy enough to check on his alibi.”

He pulled up outside the campaign headquarters. “Let me do the talking.”
“Flashing the badge, Officer?”
Where her safety was concerned? “Damn straight.”
They strolled into the headquarters and immediately headed for the office of Sylvester Oates. The

Shem stench was so thick Dante almost choked on it, but the source was obscured by the sheer amount
of it. The Shem was either still in the office or had been spending a lot of time in that room recently.

Sylvester Oates was hard at work, barely glancing up when they walked into his office. There was

less of the Shem stink in his office, but Dante wasn’t quite ready to rule him out yet. “Can I help you?”

“I need to know where you were at ten o’clock last night.”
“Excuse me?” Oates seemed confused by the question. “You want to know where I was last night at

ten o’clock?”

“That’s right, Mr. Oates. Can you tell us, please?”
The pen he’d been holding was put carefully down. “I was bowling with my league last night.

When we were done, we headed out for a bite to eat, and then I went home to Gracie.”

“Gracie?” Beth asked.
“My wife.”
“And what time would that have been, Mr. Oates?” Dante asked, leaning back in his chair.
“The game ended at nine-thirty, the meal ended at ten forty-five, and I was home by eleven.” He

stared at them, obviously confused. “What is this all about, anyway?”

“Someone attempted to run me over last night in the parking lot of a nightclub.” Beth was watching

his reaction closely.

From outside the office, a loud crash sounded. Oates winced. “Excuse me, please.” He walked out

from behind his desk and opened the door. “What the hell is going on out there?” he yelled.

“Sorry, Mr. Oates,” Barbara sputtered. The coffee pot lay on the floor between her and Bryan

Cranston. Cranston was wringing his hands in dismay. “Bryan and I bumped into each other, and,
well...” Her voice trailed off as she stared in dismay at the broken pot.

Oates sighed. “Just clean it up and get back to work, people.” He shut the door of his office and sat

once more behind his desk. “Okay.” He sighed again, running his hands through his dark hair. “If you
want to check my alibi, just talk to Gracie. I can also dig up the names of some of my bowling
buddies if you want to call them.”

Dante nodded. “No offense, but that would be appreciated. If you’re cleared, we can start looking

elsewhere.”

Oates nodded. “Not a problem.” He reached for the Rolodex on his desk and began flipping

through it. “Can I ask why you suspect me?”

Elizabeth glanced at him before answering. “We’re covering our bases, that’s all.”
“Fair enough.” Once he had the names he wanted, he wrote them down and handed Dante the piece

of paper. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with.”

Dante took the paper with a nod of thanks. His whole posture seemed more relaxed. “Thanks

again,” he said as he led Elizabeth out of the office.

“It wasn’t him.”
Dante shook his head. “No. It wasn’t. There wasn’t any guilt or surprise when he saw us. So who

has access to his computer?”

She opened the door to the Eclipse and climbed in. “I’d say anyone with access to that back

office.”

“Cranston, Lindsay, Blessing—hell, it could be any one of them.” Dante thought about the Shem

stench all over that back office. “I’m going to rule out Candy.”

Elizabeth shot him a look full of amused disgust. “Oh?”
“Seriously. Shem have a distinctive aura about them, one that gets left behind when they leave a

place. That back office was thick with it, but the front of the headquarters had hardly any.”

“So Candy at the front desk can’t be the Shem.” She leaned back, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“But that means Blessing isn’t either.”

“Unless he’d been in there for a while before we arrived. It was literally everywhere. Hell, it

brushed the ceiling. Whoever it was had been in that room, leaving behind that miasma deliberately.”

“Just like a skunk.”
He grinned. “Or a fart.”
She rolled her eyes. “You have an obsession with poo gas. Remind me not to bring you any bean

burritos for lunch.”

“Speaking of food, I have a favor to ask you.” He had no idea how she would react to his request,

but no way could he leave her alone. Not if her life was in danger.

“Ask away.”
“I have a family birthday party to go to tonight, and I could use a date. Would you mind going with

me?”

She stared him, absolutely flabbergasted. He wanted to introduce her to his family? For an Italian,

that was almost a declaration of his honorable intentions. “You really don’t want me out of your sight,
do you?”

He sighed. She was right, but the opportunity to introduce her to his family was too good to pass

up. “Would you believe that I’d actually like your company tonight?”

She laughed. “I don’t know. Is your family ready for someone like me?”
“The real question is, are you ready for my family?” Because he very much doubted Elizabeth had

ever met a clan quite like his.

He couldn’t wait to introduce her to them.

Chapter Eleven

“Can I ask you something?”

Andi grunted. “If you don’t move too much, sure.” She jabbed another bobby pin into Beth’s head.
“Ow.” Beth resisted the urge to rub away the sore spot. “Did you go to the Marquis de Sade school

of hairdressing?”

“Oh, shush. You’re lucky I had the time to come and help you. Piotr’s been running me ragged

lately.” She jabbed another pin in. “What’s up?”

“Piotr was the one I wanted to talk to you about.” Beth was careful to keep her tone neutral. Andi

adored Piotr, but Beth still wasn’t as sure about him as Andi was.

“Oh?” The word was mumbled as Andi dragged the brush through Beth’s hair. Andi had a bobby

pin in her mouth, ready to stab Beth’s poor head again.

“Yeah. You know anything about the Blessing campaign?”
“Pfft. Piotr mentioned you guys questioned him on that. We...I mean, he didn’t contribute a damn

thing, personally or otherwise.”

“Are you sure?” Beth frowned, but it quickly turned to a wince as Andi forced another stubborn

lock of Beth’s hair to obey.

“Yup. I take care of all of that. I know all of the pseudonyms he uses when he doesn’t want anyone

to know he’s the one who gifted the charity. Piotr doesn’t really dabble in politics beyond attending
dinners where politicians are also invited.” She laughed. “He thinks most of them are soul-sucking
ghouls.”

Beth blinked. Yeah, Piotr would have a basis of comparison, wouldn’t he? “Any idea why Dante

and he don’t get along?”

“Nope.” Andi nodded her approval and patted Beth’s shoulder. “There. That ought to hold. Now,

let’s get the dress on.”

Beth stood, wondering just what Andi had done to her. Her bestie had refused to allow Beth to see

herself until she was finished, and that included the makeup job Andi had insisted on doing. “But you
trust Piotr completely?”

“Well, not completely. Do I trust his integrity and his sense of honor? Absolutely. If I listed the

charities he helps out with no one knowing you’d be stunned. Hell, the man has set up a widows and
orphans fund in his home country that he oversees personally.”

“And you have access to that information too?”
Andi nodded and slipped the dress over Beth’s head. “He can’t keep me out. I know everything

about Piotr Romanov, including what he likes to eat after a night with one of his ladies, what he
drinks when he’s stressed and what his voice sounds like when he’s really pissed off. I can tell you
that tomorrow I’ll be asked to check into Warwick Computing, because he’s been going over their
files like a madman lately.”

Beth slipped on the gold shoes Andi held out. “That’s a creepy level of stalking, Andrea Hancock.”
“That’s a good personal assistant, Elizabeth Rand.” Andi grabbed her and shoved her in front of

the mirror. “Now take a look, Cinderella, and tell me what you think.”

Beth stared at herself in the mirror.
This is so not me.

What the hell had she been thinking? She should have known better than to ask Andi to lend her an

outfit. Andi had completely different tastes than she did, and now Beth was stuck with a dress that
was so far outside her comfort zone it wasn’t even on the same planet.

“Knock it off, Beth. You look fantastic.”
She turned sideways, sucking her stomach in with a grimace. “If you say so.”
“I do, so shush.” Andi helped her clip on her gold bracelet with a satisfied grin. “You look like I

always knew you could, sophisticated and sexy.”

Beth wasn’t convinced. It was a simple little black dress, at least for someone who wore dresses

on a regular basis. But Beth, who preferred jeans and tank tops, was having trouble adjusting to an A-
line hem that ended above her knees. The V-neck and thick straps were comfortable at least, and
allowed her to wear a real bra, with real straps, but she hadn’t been sure that the ruched satin would
look good on her. She still wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not, even if it did make her ass look
amazing.

Hell, even the heels were torture—four-inch stilettos that made her legs seem a mile long and her

feet wish she’d worn flats.

She turned her foot in, staring at the kicky gold heel.
All right. She had to admit that she secretly loved the shoes. But she wasn’t budging on the dress.
Andi had carefully bound her hair up in an elegant twist that showed off her neck and,

unfortunately, the love bite Dante had gifted her with. Andi had taken one look at it and showed Beth
a quick trick to hiding it that didn’t involve a turtleneck. She’d finally managed, with Andi’s help, to
dull it down, but it was still there, still obvious.

On one wrist she wore a gold bracelet, and a diamond heart pendant graced her throat, a gift from

Andi and Sam on her twenty-first birthday. In her ears was a pair of gold hoops Abby had given her.

“You look incredible,” Andi said gleefully. “Dante’s not going to know what hit him.”
Beth swallowed hard. She didn’t recognize herself. She looked soft and dainty and somehow still

kick-ass. She glanced at her feet and wondered how fast she could get the heels off if she needed to
fight.

She wanted to kick something. That, or hide under the bed. This could not end well. Dante’s family

was going to hate her. She was going to get Andi’s perfect dress barbecued by Nephilim. She was—

The doorbell rang. Beth turned and tried to dart back into the bedroom in a panic, but found her

way blocked by Andi.

The doorbell rang again.
I guess I’m going to answer the door.
Taking a deep breath, she told her screaming nerves to quiet. What was the worst that could

happen? Dante wouldn’t like her dress? She opened the door...

And gulped at the sight of a Detective Dante Zucco who was seriously dressed to impress.
Holy shit, the detective cleaned up nice. He’d worn a black suit with a brick red shirt and black

and red tie underneath. His cologne was subtle, enhancing his natural warm scent. The stubble that
always seemed to grace his face was gone, leaving behind smooth, lean cheeks she longed to touch.

“Hi.” His gaze roamed over her, his expression warming with approval and desire.
“Hi,” she replied nervously. Behind her she heard Andi getting her coat and purse, but she couldn’t

turn around. She found herself mesmerized by the heat in his dark eyes. She swore she saw flames
dancing within them, but he blinked and they were gone.

The two of them would have been frozen in the doorway, in more ways than one, if not for Andi.

“Excuse me, I have to be going now.” She gave Beth a kiss on the cheek. “Have a good time, Beth.”

“Thanks.” Beth tore her gaze from Dante long enough to hug Andi back. She had her nerves under

control again—or so she hoped.

Andi smiled up at Dante and inched her way around him, muttering a quick goodbye. He waved

absently at her as she whistled her way down the stairs and out to her car.

He turned back to Beth. “You look...unbelievable,” he said, his voice barely under control.
“Thanks. You too.” She grabbed the gold clutch and black wool coat Andi had also lent her, telling

her that the parka she’d planned on wearing wouldn’t look right with her dress.

Hell, Beth was just hoping not to kill herself in the four-inch heels. She really didn’t care if her

coat matched her dress, but she’d bowed before Andi’s fashion sense and accepted the double-
breasted wide-collared coat with bright gold buttons. It was a lot warmer than it looked, almost as
warm as her parka.

Dante took her arm and led her to the Eclipse. “Have you ever been to an Italian birthday party?”
She nodded. “One of my best friends is Italian.”
“Have you ever been there as the date of one of the family?” He held her door open for her, helping

her into her seat with a steadying hand on her elbow.

She shook her head. “No. Why?”
He shut the door and moved around to the driver’s seat. “Let’s just say you’re in for a bit of a

shock.”

“Are they Neph like you?”
“My mother is Neph. She’s what we call a Legionnaire. Her main powers are inhuman strength and

endurance.”

Whoa. She needed to remember not to piss off Mama. “So she’s Superwoman.”
“She likes to think so. But only Neph like Seth can fly. My mom’s a warrior, a total bad-ass.” He

grinned. “You always did your homework in my house.”

“How many different types of Neph are there? I know there are the winged ones like Seth, and the

fire types like you. Now Legionnaires?”

He shot her a quick, thoughtful glance. “I’m a Seris. Fire does my bidding. Seth is an Angelus, with

wings of light.”

“Are all Neph winged?”
He shook his head. “Only the Angelus.”
“Oh.” So he wouldn’t grow fiery wings. She was oddly disappointed about that.
“Legionnaires are among the most common angel-born, along with Knights, who have the ability to

summon weapons from thin air.”

“That sounds pretty cool.”
“It is. Malachi have the ability to speak any language they read or hear, can read the auras of those

around them, and teleport short distances.”

“Which makes for a nice commute in the mornings.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Well. Most Malachi use cars like everyone else. Remember, our powers use

energy, just like walking or riding a bike does. So the energy it takes to teleport to the office and back
again would be the same amount of energy needed to walk there, but used in one quick burst. It’s
tiring.”

“So it’s not a power that’s used often, I gather.”
He shook his head. “When I use my flame, I pull the heat from the air around me and from inside

me. I’ll feel both hot and cold to the touch, because my flame is heating my skin but my inner fire is
dimming the more I use my abilities.”

“How are Shem different from Neph? Other than feeding, I mean.” Beth had been meaning to ask

that question for some time, but the right time had never come up before.

“Their evil marks them. You remember what Diana looked like right before you shot her?”
Beth shuddered.
“Exactly. They can hide their evil behind a human facade, but that’s all it is. A facade. Once you

peel that away, the true abomination is revealed. They feed off of humans, flesh, emotions, heat—”

“So they could feed off of your heat?”
“Not...exactly. A Shem Seris feeds off the life energy of their victims, their inner fire, until the

person dies. The victim will often complain about being cold and can never get warm enough. Once
their inner fire is consumed, they die.”

She shivered. “So you could become a Shem.”
He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t quite work that way. I was born Nephilim, and when my powers

emerged I chose to use them for good, like my mother before me. Shem angel-born are psychotic little
narcissists even before their powers emerge.”

They drove in silence for a bit before Beth asked the other question that had been plaguing her.

“What kind of Shem are we after?”

“A Shem Azar.”
“What do they do? What are their powers?” Beth needed to understand what they were facing if she

was going to keep Dante safe.

“Azar have the ability to heal both physical and spiritual wounds. They also have the ability to

inflict wounds, but the only Azar I know of hates doing it. He said it makes him feel unclean.”

“And our Shem?”
He sighed. “Shem Azar feed on the flesh of their victims.”
“They’re cannibals?” She thought back to the wounds they’d found on Jennifer Blake. “Oh my God.

It ate her.”

He nodded. “Yeah. They tend to find the insides the most desirable parts. The heart, the liver...”
She shuddered. “The offal.”
“Yup.” His grim tone lightened as they pulled up in front of a restaurant. “We’re here.”
“Yay.” She swallowed thickly. She wasn’t sure she was up to eating. And not just because of

cannibal Shem.

He chuckled. “You’ve faced some pretty bad guys. You can handle one itty bitty family dinner.”
When she glared at him he just laughed. Nice to know I amuse the hell out of him.
Dante took her immediately to an older couple standing near the entrance of the restaurant. He

kissed them both, something that surprised her. She wasn’t used to seeing men kiss their fathers on the
cheek like that, but Dante made it seem natural.

“Dante. Ti trovo bene, figlio mio.”
“Mama. Come stai?”
“Bene, bene. E tu?”
“I’m good, Mama.” He tugged Beth forward. “I’d like you to meet Elizabeth Rand. Elizabeth, this

is my mother, Teresa Zucco.”

Teresa was a small, slender woman in her early fifties, with dark hair streaked with silver and the

same warm brown gaze that characterized her son. Her voice was laced with more than a hint of Italy.
It was hard to think of such a tiny woman not only giving birth to Dante but being a mighty warrior.
Beth held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Teresa took hold of her hand, staring at her with the same intensity she’d seen so often on Dante’s

face. She smiled at her son, her expression pleased. “Mi piace questo una ancora meglio di quello
scorso.”

Dante turned bright red, leaving Beth to wonder what his mother had said to him. He cleared his

throat and turned to his father, who was trying not to laugh. “Dad, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is
my father, Rosario Zucco.”

“Call me Russ.” Dante’s father had no accent, but a huge smile, laughing blue eyes and a small hint

of silver threaded through his golden hair. It was easy to see where Dante had gotten most of his
looks, and his size. Russ towered over her in the same way his massive son did.

“Nice to meet you, Russ.”
Dante’s father had a firm handshake.
Teresa patted Beth’s arm. “You’ll eat with us, naturalmente.” She turned her attention once more

to Dante. “Gio will be here tonight, and Anna and Francesca.”

“Gio’s here?” Dante looked utterly delighted. “I thought he was still out looking for Rafe.”
Russ took Teresa’s arm and began leading her into the restaurant. “He was. He came back for

tonight’s birthday party.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Dante took Beth’s hand. “Gio is my older brother.”
“And one of you?”
Beth didn’t miss the sharp glance Teresa shot them over her shoulder, but Dante replied serenely.

“Yes.”

When Teresa turned back around, the odd satisfaction on Teresa’s face sent shivers down Beth’s

spine.

They arrived at the table, Teresa making quick introductions in half Italian, half English that left

Beth’s mind reeling. “Gio, this is your brother’s fidanzata, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, my eldest son,
Giovanni.”

Beth held out her hand, refusing to be intimidated by Gio’s sheer size. The Zucco men were huge,

and Gio was no exception. Giovanni Zucco was an older, fiercer version of Dante, but with his
mother’s dark hair. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Gio shared a guarded glance with Dante, smiling at her when Dante

nodded. “Very nice to meet you.” He winked at Dante, and suddenly Beth saw how much he
resembled his father. His wicked grin went from ear to ear as he held out her chair. “Allow me.”

“Leccaculo,” Dante coughed under his breath. He grimaced as his mother whapped him upside the

head. “Sorry, Mama.”

“Hmph.” Teresa took her own seat as her sons and one of her daughters laughed. The other one

looked like she’d sucked a lemon. “Francesca, say hello to Dante’s fidanzata.”

“Hello.”
Well. Francesca’s chilly tone didn’t exactly fill Beth with the warm and fuzzies. “Hello.”

Francesca had her father’s gold hair and a cold expression that wasn’t shared by the rest of the Zucco

clan. Her husband sat quietly at her side, drinking and ignoring everyone around him, including his
two adorable children.

“Hi, I’m Anna, the baby.” Anna was a dainty blonde with a ready grin who took after her father, but

with her mother’s brown eyes, a trait shared by all of the Zucco children. “And these are my
munchkins, Suzanne and Anthony.” Suzanne was about eighteen months old and utterly adorable,
while her son was around three and stared at Beth like she was the second coming. “This is my
husband, Trevor.”

Trevor quickly swallowed the hors d’oeuvre he’d been munching on. “Hi.” He held out his hand,

shaking Beth’s firmly. “Nice to meet you.”

“What is it you do for a living?” Francesca’s tone was belligerent.
Beth smiled sweetly as Dante whispered in her ear. “Wine?”
Oh God, yes please. If Francesca was going to be that relative, she’d need some alcoholic

fortification. “Thanks.”

He patted her shoulder before taking off, and Beth could feel the sympathy dripping off the gesture.

Not that he stuck around to help her. She turned her attention back to his older sister. “I’m a private
investigator.”

“Really?” The evil satisfaction on her face had Beth wondering what the hell she’d ever done to

Francesca Zucco to earn such enmity. “Dante hates private investigators.”

“Does he?” Beth glanced over at Teresa to find the older woman scowling at her daughter.
“I just simply cannot believe that an intelligent woman in this day and age would choose a career

as a private investigator when she could have been a lawyer or a doctor. Or even a nurse,” Francesca
said with a venomous side glance at her youngest sister.

“Keep me out of it, Frankie,” Anna said cheerfully, but with a hint of steel in her tone. Beth

recognized the look. Dante had sent it her way more than once. “I have no interest in whatever
crawled up your ass and died.” Anna grinned at her mother. “Sorry.”

“Well, all I want to know is, why can’t you have a real career? Lillian had a wonderful career as a

photographer before she married Dante.”

Beth clenched her hands in her lap and reminded herself that she could be arrested if she did what

she was thinking of doing. “Were you and Lillian close?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“Lillian and Frankie were best friends,” Anna offered up before the older woman could reply.

“They still are, as a matter of fact.”

“Ah,” Beth nodded, deciding to get her own dig in. She’d done her homework on Dante, and now

was her chance to prove it. She tilted her head. “How is she handling the divorce from Hershman?”

There was silence for a moment. Beth looked up to see shock and anger on the face of Francesca.

“What do you mean, divorce?”

Beth took the glass of wine Dante held out for her, gently placing it on the table. She very carefully

did not look at Dante. “She filed for divorce three days ago. Didn’t she tell you?”

Francesca’s answering smile was poisonous. “Well, now that she’s divorcing Jerry, maybe she’ll

come back to the family where she belongs.” She smiled sweetly at Dante.

“Which family would that be?” Beth kept the bland smile in place with an effort. Francesca was

really beginning to get on her nerves.

“You know I would never consider taking Lillian back, Francesca,” Dante growled suddenly.

Maybe this was an old argument, and she’d just found herself in the middle of it.

Francesca shrugged, a smug little smile on her face. “I know she hurt you, Dante, but you have to

realize that Jerry just swept her off her feet. She wants you back. She’s wanted you back for a year
now. Why won’t you listen to her? Give her another chance.”

Dante sighed. “When will you stop harping on the subject? I have no further interest in Lillian.” He

reached under the table and gave Beth’s hand a surreptitious squeeze, a movement that was not lost on
Francesca. He pried her hands apart and took one of them in his own, resting it against the back of his
hard thigh. His thumb gently ran over her knuckles. “I’m taken.”

“Enough, Francesca.” Teresa, a frown on her face, glared at her second oldest child. “Your brother

lives his life as he sees fit. If Lillian had wanted to be with Dante so badly she would never have
slept with Jerry.” Teresa dismissed her former daughter-in-law with one wave of her dainty hand.
“Now, Elizabeth, tell me about your family.” She smiled encouragingly, but Beth still felt herself
stiffening.

“My parents were divorced when I was four. Both my parents have been remarried.” Beth refused

to say how many times, not in front of Francesca.

“And where are they now? Are they living in Delaware?”
“My mother is currently living in Los Angeles, and my father has been in Florida for the past five

years.” Beth bit back a smile. “My father owns Rand Construction, and my mother...” There was no
real way to explain exactly what her mother did, so Beth shrugged.

“Really? I’ve heard they are a good company to work for,” Anna said with genuine curiosity.
Beth smiled. “He enjoys his work, which is more than I can say for most people these days.”
Francesca smirked behind her napkin. “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. Your father is a

construction worker, and your mother is a professional gold-digger. Do I have that right?”

There was silence for a moment, with Anna looking uncomfortable, Russ looking shocked and the

Zucco boys looking pissed off.

“Oh, I tawt I taw a puddy tat,” Beth whispered, grinning savagely. She leaned back comfortably in

her chair.

Dante’s hand tightened around hers in warning.
She chose to ignore it.
“Tell, me, Francesca, did the dean ever figure out exactly who it was who set the gym on fire?”

She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand. She ignored the startled gasps of Dante’s family,
far too intent on the expression on Francesca’s face. She saw the shock that settled in just before
Francesca excused herself to go to the ladies room.

Beth found herself unceremoniously hauled to her feet. “Excuse us, I need to introduce her around,”

Dante ground out around a smile. Ignoring the shocked looks on the faces of his parents he dragged
Beth behind him.

Beth tsked. “Aw, puddy fall down go boom,” she whispered gleefully.
“One more word and I swear I will turn you over my knee and paddle you here and now,” he

grated. He had the semblance of a smile plastered on his face, but she could almost hear his teeth
grinding. If he clenched his jaw any harder he’d be spitting out shards of broken molars. “Where the
hell did you come up with that bit of information?” he growled as he pulled her along behind him.

“It’s in her sealed records,” she replied softly, glancing around curiously. Every eye was on her.

She wondered if they’d figured out she’d been fighting with Francesca. From the friendly, curious
gazes directed her way, she was going with no.

He stopped and stared at her, taken aback by her response. “My sister actually did that?”
“She didn’t light the match, but she certainly assisted. They didn’t have definite proof, but there

was some evidence that she got the gas.” She found herself stroking his arm, trying to offer comfort.
She’d had no idea he hadn’t known, and now she regretted using it against Francesca. Winning against
his sister wasn’t worth seeing him hurt. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

He blew out an aggravated breath. “She’s always been pissed that it was the boys who got powers

and she and Anna were by-blows.”

“By-blows?”
He smiled at someone who yelled out his name. “By-blow is a child or grandchild of a Neph born

without powers. Francesca has always believed she should have followed in Mama’s footsteps, but
instead Gio and I have.”

“And it chaps her ass, so she tries to run your lives.”
“Basically.” He took her hand in his and gently walked her over to one of the many tables in the

banquet hall. He casually kissed one of the elderly ladies on the cheek. “Aunt Rosa, buon
compleanno.” The affection in his voice warmed her. The man obviously adored his family, even the
annoying ones.

“Grazie, Dante, grazie. Chi è il tuo amica?”
“È il mio fidanzata, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is my aunt, Rosa Benedetto Giancarno. My mother’s

sister.”

Beth nodded politely. “How do you do?”
Rosa laughed. “Not too badly, for my age.” Her accent was thicker than her sister’s, her figure

more rounded, but they both had the same laughing brown eyes and ease of manners that Beth found so
charming. “I hope you are enjoying yourself?” She gazed up at Beth, and Beth found herself charmed.

“As much as I possibly can,” she grinned.
As Dante talked quietly in Italian to Rosa’s husband, Lou, Rosa stood and pulled Beth aside. “Now

I introduce you around properly,” she declared as she marched Beth off. Looking back, she saw Dante
watching her as he replied to something his uncle said. His attention was almost immediately claimed
by another uncle, and the three seemed to enter into a lively conversation. Still, as she was led around
the room, Beth occasionally felt Dante’s attention focused on her and knew he was watching.

She didn’t remember half of the people she was introduced to, trained investigator or not. She did

manage to not show how shocked she was by how much of her life had already circulated around the
room.

“You’re Dante’s new girlfriend.” One of Dante’s numerous teenage cousins smiled at her, the

braces on her teeth shining.

Another asked, “Are you really a private investigator?”
She found herself surrounded by teenage boys, discussing some of the finer details of private

investigations, such as stake outs and gun fights.

She escaped just in time to be snagged by another relative whose face and name she didn’t

remember, but who dragged her over to discuss whether or not Teresa ought to be out and about so
soon after her surgery. After determining that the Teresa under discussion was not Dante’s mother,
Beth withdrew from the conversation as gracefully as she could, only to find her arm firmly clasped
once more by the energetic Aunt Rosa.

Aunt Rosa introduced her to Dante’s grandmother, a spry woman in her eighties who didn’t hear a

word Beth said, but repeated over and over again “Elisabetta, bella, bella!” and shoved breadsticks
into her hands.

Trying to move away, she found herself in the grip of a strong, if slightly intoxicated, uncle who

whirled her out onto the dance floor, leered cheerfully down her dress and asked her where she kept
her gun.

Escaping from the uncle when his wife took him in hand, Beth finally managed to make her way

back to the table, her head reeling half in Italian, half in English as the party really got under way.

Dante was nowhere to be found.
Teresa, her toes tapping, took Beth onto the dance floor to help herd the children. Beth took

Francesca’s twins in hand, kicking off her heels and dancing as energetically as the children
surrounding her. An only child, she didn’t often get a chance to play with children, but she loved
them. One day she hoped to have at least two. She didn’t want her kids growing up as lonely as she’d
been.

Sometime during the chicken dance, Beth looked up, laughing hysterically at little John having

chicken seizures.

Dante was watching her, a strange, soft expression on his face. His sisters stood by him, Anna

grinning hugely, Francesca scowling. Gio looked beyond pleased as he chatted with Anna.

Before Beth could respond she was snatched once again, this time by Dante’s father. He handed her

shoes to her and dragged her out of the ballroom. “Let’s get out of here.”

Slipping her pumps back on, Beth followed him outside. She was surprised to see him smoking in

front of the building. “It can get a little rowdy in there.” He smiled. “I thought you might like a break.”

His quiet, deep voice reminded her of Dante. “Thanks,” she sighed, sitting on the cold stone

retaining wall that held the restaurant’s plants and shrubs. She gratefully shrugged on the dress jacket
he handed her when a particularly cold breeze caused her to shiver.

His chuckle was deep. “I remember my first party with Teresa’s family. Everyone spoke Italian,

and I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying.”

“Can you understand it now?” she asked, watching him curiously.
“Nope.” He grinned, puffing on his cigarette. “I’m a fourth-generation Italian. I know what lasagna

and mangia mean, and that’s it.”

“Metti che fuori adesso.” Teresa led Dante out of the restaurant, stopping before Russ with a huff.

Teresa placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “You know you’re not supposed to smoke.
The doctor told you this, stupido!” Her hands waved in the air as she continued scolding her husband
in a spate of furious Italian that held Beth spellbound.

Russ’s occasional “Yes, dear” and “No, dear” only served to make the lecture more amusing, and

gave the lie to his inability to speak Italian.

Dante’s shoulders shook as he tried to keep his laughter silent.
Teresa led the now meekly compliant Russ back into the restaurant. Beth could still hear Teresa

scolding him as the door closed behind them.

“Dante?”
“Hmm?”
“Your family is insane.”
“And you are surprised why?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, grinning.
They stared at each other for a moment before Beth let the laugh free. Francesca was going to be a

pain in her ass, but the rest of Dante’s family?

Oh, Beth was very much in love with Dante’s family. And, whether she liked it or not, she was

beginning to feel the same way about Dante himself.

Chapter Twelve

He walked her up to her apartment, hoping she’d ask him in for a cup of coffee before sending him on
his way. It wasn’t that late, only eleven o’clock, and he was dying to kiss her.

He’d had a much better time at Aunt Rosa’s party than he’d expected, and that was due in large part

to Elizabeth’s presence. As his grandmother had said, Elisabetta was bella. For once, people were
speculating about his love life, rather than the lack of one.

Now if he could just get his sister to shut up about Lillian things would be damn near perfect.

Elizabeth just...fit. Him, his life, his career and even his family.

Lillian never really had.
Not once during their marriage had he been tempted to tell Lillian what he really was. Elizabeth

knew, and accepted, that part of him already.

She was perfect, and he couldn’t be prouder to have her on his arm.
They stopped outside her door, and she hesitated as she pulled out her keys. “Do you want to come

in?”

Does the sun rise in the East? “Yes.”
She smiled as she turned to unlock her door. “I have some coffee and a little...cake...” The smile

froze in place, and he realized that the key wouldn’t be necessary. “Dante.”

“I see it.” Someone had broken into her apartment. He gently pushed the door open.
“Fuck.”
He got one look over her shoulder before he pushed her aside and entered the trashed apartment.

He reached for his missing gun, the one he’d left behind so he didn’t scare his Aunt Rosa, before
leaning over cautiously and pulling his backup gun from his ankle holster. Motioning for Elizabeth to
remain behind him, he entered the room, gun at the ready, and surveyed the scene before him.

Her couch was ripped to shreds. The coffee table had been upended, the legs broken off. The ugly

armchair had been turned upside down, the cushion slashed, the underside ripped open. Ancient fluff
from the two upholstered pieces lined the floors. The computer desk had been upended, files
scattered all over the floor. The computer and laptop were smashed. Both computer cases had been
opened, and parts were strewn around the upturned desk like broken dolls. The office chair had nail
polish splashed all over it. The door to the balcony was wide open, the vertical blinds moving in the
cold air like cheap wind chimes.

Dante moved into the kitchen, noting absently the food thrown on the floor.
He also found Elizabeth moving behind him, but let her disobedience go. Somewhere in the back of

his mind he’d known she wouldn’t stay too far behind him.

No partner would.
In the tiny bedroom, a place Dante hadn’t seen before, all of Elizabeth’s clothes had been doused in

kerosene and piled in the middle of the bed. “I think the intruder planned on starting a bonfire.”

“Too bad he left the weenies on the kitchen floor.”
Dante couldn’t bring himself to smile. She was far more frightened than she wanted him to know,

but her voice gave her away. It was shaking.

The mattress was in tattered ruins, the sheets heaped with the clothing in the middle. In the small

bathroom, someone had thrown all of her makeup and toiletries into the tub and then filled it with

water. He cursed under his breath as a faint green miasma swirled around him.

He realized that Elizabeth was no longer behind him and headed back out to the living room. Dante

was reasonably certain no one else was in the one-bedroom apartment, but he didn’t want her alone,
not when her fear had been so obvious. The urge to drag her out of here and back to his home, or
better yet to Gabriel’s, rode him hard.

There’d been Shem stench in her bedroom, and he found that intolerable. The creature had come

into her home, her sanctuary, and violated it.

He found her standing at the railing of the balcony and looking over the edge. Even in the dark he

could see how clenched her hands were on the railing. Joining her he could see why.

There was a fire escape ladder, the kind made out of heavy-duty hooks, rope and wood, hanging

from the balcony railing. “Che cazzo?”

“Whoever trashed my apartment made his escape this way, probably while we were at the front

door.” He understood why she’d been holding so tightly to the railing as she picked up a bit of the
rope ladder. Her hands were shaking so hard the steps were clanging against the building. “We
probably just missed him.”

Dante wondered if the intruder had been on the balcony while he’d been inspecting the apartment.

Meeting Elizabeth’s angry gaze, he saw the same question swirling through her.

She took a deep breath, visibly pulling herself together. She dropped the ladder with a grimace.

“We need to call the police.”

He took hold of her hand, noting absently how cold it was. “This was a Shem attack. The police

can’t help here.” He gently tugged her back into her trashed apartment. “We will get this fucker.”
Before the Shem had a chance to do any more damage to Elizabeth.

She nodded sharply. “Then you need to call whoever it is who deals with this kind of thing.”
The only place to sit that wasn’t slashed beyond recognition was her office chair. He settled her on

it and pulled out his cell phone. When Damien answered he didn’t bother with the usual pleasantries.
“Damien. I need you and Seth at this address.” He rattled off Elizabeth’s address, aware of the way
her gaze followed him. She was absorbing everything he said, and he couldn’t care less. She’d meet
another part of the family of his heart tonight, and his partners would help him crush the Shem who’d
dared invade her home.

“I’ll call Seth,” Damien said. “Sit tight, we’re on our way. Stay safe, my brother.”
Dante repeated back the ritual words absently before hanging up. “Don’t touch anything.”
It didn’t take long for Damien and Seth to arrive. Seth whistled when he saw the damage. “Whoa.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Is that gas I smell?”

“Kerosene.” Damien poked his head into the kitchen. “This is some serious rage going on.”
“Dante.” Elizabeth stood next to him, studying his friends. “Who’s that?”
Right. She’d never met Damien before. “Damien Wyatt, this is Elizabeth Rand. Elizabeth, one of

my Neph brothers, Damien.”

Her brows rose. “Wyatt, as in Wyatt Industries?”
“The same.”
“Huh.”
Damien studied Elizabeth closely, slowly frowning. “Nice to meet you too.”
Elizabeth just smiled, but it was strained. Dante would have to question her about that later, after

he’d dealt with the mess her apartment was in.

Seth pulled Elizabeth into a hug. “Abby wanted me to tell you that if you need a place to stay,

you’re welcome with us.”

Elizabeth hugged him back. “Thanks, Seth.”
Damien pulled Dante aside as Seth comforted Elizabeth. “What the hell were you doing here

tonight, Dante?”

Dante felt himself flushing. “Private business.”
“Private, my ass. Why is Elizabeth all dressed up?” Damien glared at him in astonishment. “I know

you like Elizabeth, but are you seriously telling me you two went on a date while being chased by a
Shem?”

“It’s pri-vate,” Dante growled.
Damien studied him for a moment. The man knew him far too well. “Wasn’t your Aunt Rosa’s

birthday party tonight?”

“Damn it, Damien.”
“She’s a human, Dante. You know better.”
“She’s also in the line of fire. You heard what that Shem said.” Hell, Dante’d had a couple of

nightmares about what the Shem Angelus had said. “‘Your woman won’t last the week.’”

“I remember, but—”
“Someone has to keep an eye on her.” And hell if it was going to be anyone but him.
“Is that what you call it? Keeping an eye on her? Cause the size of that hickey says you’re keeping a

lot more on her than just your peepers.” Damien’s sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing.

“Stronzo.”
“Dante. I don’t want you to lose her, all right?” Damien sighed roughly. “Take her to Gabriel’s.”
“She won’t go.” Hell, he could barely get her to acknowledge that she needed his help for this

case. No way would he convince her to hide out in the archangel’s home.

“Drag her if you need to.” Damien grabbed his arm, holding tight. “I can’t lose another brother,

Dante. With Raphael missing, nothing seems right anymore. I can’t lose you too.”

Dante embraced Damien, hugging the man tight. “You won’t.”
Damien shivered just once, then pulled free. “Okay then.” Damien glanced toward the mess. “This

is big. Elizabeth is your weakness, and they’ll exploit it.”

Flames licked his arms. “They can try.”
Damien chuckled darkly. “I’m thinking they’ll regret it.” He stared at Dante, his expression fierce.

“You need us to help, you call us, understand?”

“I understand.”
“Good.” Damien nodded, but it was obvious he was far from convinced. “How’s Purvis?”
Dante winced. “I went the first day he was in the hospital, but I haven’t been back since. Been busy

with the Blake case and keeping an eye on Elizabeth.”

“Yeah.” Damien kicked a bit of broken side table. “It’s going to come back. It didn’t get to finish

the job, not from that smell of gas.”

“I know.” Elizabeth wouldn’t spend another night in this apartment, not if Dante could help it. “And

we’ll be ready for him.”

Damien nodded sharply. “Get her out of here. Let Seth and me search for clues.”
“I’m taking her to my place.”
“You and I know she’d be safer with Gabriel.”

Dante just scowled at Damien. There was no way he was letting Elizabeth out of his sight, and he

knew her well enough now to know she’d run if he tried to force her into a safe little bubble.

“Fine. Stubborn bastard. But let Gabriel know she’s with you. If we need to take turns guarding

her, knowing where she’s living will help.”

It was a good idea. They’d all watched over Abby when a Shem had been stalking her. If he needed

the same courtesy for Elizabeth, the others would need to know where she was. “Will do.”

Beth was subdued when Dante reentered the apartment. “The bad guy left over the balcony down

my own god damn fire escape ladder.” She stood, her posture weary, her expression haunted. She
pushed her glasses up her nose. “If you don’t mind, I’m kind of tired. I’d like to get some of this mess
cleaned up and get some sleep.”

He stared at her. Had she lost her damn mind? “I don’t think so.” He waved his hands at the

damage the Shem had inflicted. “Do you think I’m leaving you alone in an apartment someone broke
into and had every intention of setting on fire?”

“Dante—”
He made a slashing motion as he ruthlessly cut her off. “Stai zitto!” He took a deep breath and ran

his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking, but you’d better rethink it.”

She scowled at him. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”
“Yes, I did, because you were about to say something stupid like ‘Dante, go home,’ or ‘Dante, I’m

going to sleep.’” He waved as if saying goodbye. “‘Good night!’”

Elizabeth glared at him. “Apparently someone stamped Stupid on my forehead at your Aunt’s

party.”

“Apparently so.” When she went to stomp past him he grabbed her arm. “I’m not going anywhere.

No, scratch that. We’re both going somewhere. Get your coat and let’s go.”

“This is all a ploy to get me alone in your house, isn’t it?”
He actually freaking growled, his hands waving around madly. “I don’t care if you invite the entire

god damn Eagles football team, you’re going with me. I am not leaving you here alone, capisce?” The
thought terrified him, made him want to sling her over his shoulder like a caveman and drag her back
to his lair.

She leaned forward and took both of his hands in hers. “Gee, Dante, tell me how you really feel.”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stared at her holding his hands, his mind completely

blank. He tugged, trying to free himself, but she wasn’t letting go.

She began to laugh. It seemed Dante was more like her Italian friends than she’d thought. Get him

worked up, the hands roving all over the place, then grab hold and watch his lips seal shut. “What’s
the matter? P.I. got your tongue?”

Tugging fiercely, he managed to get his hands free. “Knock it off,” he muttered, waving one hand.
The gesture only made her laugh harder. In an effort to stop the laughter, he did the only thing he

could think of.

Kissing her was definitely a mistake, especially with his brothers in the apartment, but he couldn’t

seem to care. He took her mouth with barely restrained passion, restraint forgotten as her tongue
dueled his thrust for thrust. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone this badly.

He was taking her home and putting her in his bed. “Let’s go.”
She shivered. “Okay.”
Within moments they were out the door and on their way. He could barely drive straight, his cock

demanding he pull over and take Elizabeth right where she sat, so tempting to his senses. The fire
within him burned hotter whenever she was near, fierce and wild, ready to claim the woman who’d
managed to steal his heart.

So it was an unpleasant shock to find Lillian sitting on the swing on his front porch.
The expectant smile on her face told him everything he needed to know.
Lillian had come for him.
Great.
He was grateful to Elizabeth for allowing him to open her car door. It would give Lillian something

to think about—that he was bringing his date home for the evening. He smiled as he grabbed hold of
Elizabeth’s hand.

Some of the eager anticipation left Lillian’s expression to be replaced by shock. “Hello, Dante.”

Lillian’s gaze darted back and forth between the two of them, speculation and something more making
her voice waver.

Dante kept a firm grip on Elizabeth’s hand, twining his fingers through hers. If Lillian thought she

had a chance in hell she was in for a rude surprise. “Hello, Lillian. What do you want?”

Lillian squirmed uncomfortably. She looked flawless, just as she always had. Her brown hair was

perfectly styled, a shining wave that Dante used to love burying his hands in. Her figure was nearly
perfect, her complexion flawless. She had a way of looking at a man as if he was the only one on the
face of the earth.

Once, Dante had basked in that sensation. He’d truly thought he’d found the woman of his dreams.
Then he’d learned that he wasn’t the only man on the face of her earth. He’d found himself

divorced, alone and hating the man he’d thought had stolen his wife away.

It had taken him a while to realize that Lillian had gone willingly, even eagerly, with her new

lover.

Hershman may have seduced her, but she’d done nothing to stop him.
Holding Elizabeth’s hand, he tried to picture how she would react to someone like Hershman, and

had to stifle a grin. She’d eviscerate the slimy asshole without blinking twice over it.

“Francesca called. She said you wanted to talk to me, so I came right over.” Lillian’s gaze darted

once again between Dante and Elizabeth. She bit her lip, another gesture that used to drive Dante wild
but now only left him feeling hollow and slightly disgusted with how easily she’d once manipulated
him.

He’d adored her, and she’d ripped him to shreds.
“I guess she was wrong.” Her sad, disappointed tone couldn’t move him. Not anymore.
“I guess she was wrong too.” He sighed roughly. He needed to have a long overdue chat with his

sister. It did neither Lillian nor himself any good to keep dredging up the past. “I’m sorry if Francesca
keeps giving you the wrong idea. You know things will never be the same between us.”

She looked up at him, tears forming, her lip trembling. “Oh, Dante, things could be just like they

were, if you’d only forgive me.”

Dante had seen this little play before, and steeled himself. He only hoped Elizabeth didn’t buy

Lillian’s poor me act.

Elizabeth’s snort of disgust had Lillian blinking uncertainly. Not one of Lillian’s crocodile tears

fell to mar her perfect makeup.

Dante tugged Elizabeth closer, tucking her under his arm. “There’s nothing to forgive. We’ve both

moved on.” He made it a point to make sure Elizabeth was as close as they could get while still
wearing clothing.

“But, Dante—”
“I think you’d better go, Lillian,” he said quietly.
She glanced uncertainly at Elizabeth before squaring her shoulders. “Dante, please—”
“Good night, Lillian.”
The tears dried up as quickly as they’d come. “Good night, Dante.” She moved past him, but

stopped short and ran one well-manicured hand down his arm. “I’ll call you.”

Dante sighed in frustration as Lillian went to her car. The playful, sexy mood of earlier was

broken, and he felt a burning resentment toward Francesca and Lillian for ruining what had promised
to be a fun end to the evening.

He unlocked his door, not even turning around as he heard Lillian’s car leave the driveway,

Elizabeth entering the house behind him.

“Well, that was pleasant.” She threw her coat over the back of the chair in his living room.
He picked the coat up and hung it in the closet, hanging his next to it. It felt right there, like her coat

belonged snuggled up against his. He had every intention of seeing even more of her things in his
home from now on. “I’m sorry about that. Francesca and Lillian think I’m pining away for her.
They’re constantly trying to get us back together. Frankly, it’s beginning to annoy me.”

He heard her snort of amusement and turned to face her. She looked strange, as if she was trying to

figure out whether or not to be offended. He shrugged. “It wasn’t my fault. If you have to blame
anyone, blame Francesca. I certainly didn’t call Lillian here.” Hell, he’d had vastly different plans for
the evening, none of which involved his ex-wife.

She tilted her head, studying him with the same keen look she’d given the suspects they’d

interrogated together. “What’s your usual reaction when she shows up on your doorstep
unannounced?”

He shrugged. “I invite her in, we talk, I tell her it’s over, she sobs, I tell her it’s over, and she

leaves.”

“That’s it?”
The way she stared at him made him uncomfortable, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie

jar. “I haven’t touched her since I found out she cheated on me.”

“Not even a hug?”
He blinked. Surely an occasional hug didn’t mean anything, right?
“You’re leading her on.” Elizabeth shook her finger at him.
“I keep telling her that it’s over between us. Are you going to blame me for trying to be gentle with

her?”

“With a user like Lillian, you need to slap her down and slap her down hard. Inviting her in only

tells her she’s getting through your defenses.” Elizabeth glared at him. “Is she getting through them?”

“Hell, no,” he said in disgust. “I wouldn’t take her back if she was the last willing female on earth.

I’d run away to Abu Dhabi first.” Turning on the light to the family room he tugged her behind him,
muttering the entire while in Italian.

He was not going to allow Lillian to ruin what he’d started with Elizabeth. It was time Lillian, and

his past, were buried once and for all.

Chapter Thirteen

Beth had never been in Dante’s basement. She’d gone on the assumption that it was a typical
Delaware half basement, unfinished and used for storage, and hadn’t even thought of poking her nose
down there.

She was wrong.
It was most definitely finished, and obviously the heart of Dante’s home, even more so than the

kitchen. The room was masculine, with honey-toned walls and a large, gracefully curved white
marble mantle with a real fireplace. Dante picked up a remote and instantly had a warm fire going. It
lit the room up.

The furniture in the room was all burgundy leather with scroll arms and deep cushions. The

mahogany desk in the back of the sofa looked well used, littered with papers and a closed laptop. The
craftsman-style lamp in one corner lit the desk with a warm glow. The coffee table and end tables all
matched the desk in style and color, with craftsman-style lamps on the end tables and littered around
the room.

A pool table dominated the other end of the room. A glass pool table lamp was above it, also

craftsman, with three stools lining the walls next to the pool cue holder. A mini bar, mahogany and
brass, sat in the corner. The floors were the same as the upstairs.

* * *

And there were pictures on the walls. Pictures of laughing children, Dante’s nieces and nephews.
Pictures of Dante’s parents. Pictures of Dante’s sisters, with their husbands. Pictures of Dante. The
room felt like a shrine to family.

And nowhere in the room was there a picture of Lillian.
He watched her as she wandered around his family room. “Find what you’re looking for?”
She ran her finger over one of the frames of his parents. “This is the real you, isn’t it? A family

man, who likes traditional values.” She caressed the back of the sofa, the leather butter soft against
her skin. “A passionate man who is warmer than he wants people to think, in case he gets hurt.” She
touched the computer, not surprised to see that it had a work file open on it. “A man who believes one
hundred percent in what he does.” She sat lightly on the sofa. “So, Dante, tell me. Why do you keep
all of this hidden away? Who are you hiding from?”

Her hands were clenched in her lap as she waited for his answer. It wasn’t long in coming. “You

have a very vivid imagination.” He smiled, standing. He walked over to the small mini bar and
reached into the tiny fridge. He pulled out a beer.

“Are you going to add asshole to the list, or do I get a beer too?”
He shot her an annoyed look and brought her the unopened beer. She opened it and took a small sip.

“Yuck.” She shuddered lightly, putting the beer on his coffee table.

He glared the beer, and her, with mingled disgust and amusement. “If you don’t like beer, why did

you ask for one?”

“Why didn’t you offer me one? Then I could have turned it down politely. Instead, you had to go all

macho and arrogant. Now that beer will sit on the table and go to waste.”

He shrugged, picked up the beer and drank, ignoring her outraged growl. “Good beer should never

be wasted.” He fell back into the leather chair and stretched his legs out.

“I swear, Dante, if you let one rip I will walk home.”
He laughed, loud and bright. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He put the beer on the end table next to him

and folded his hands over his stomach, totally at ease. Only the introspective look gave him away.
“Okay, you want to tell me what this is really about?”

She stood, suddenly restless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that.” He leaned forward, those huge hands of his cradling his beer gently.
“You think you know me so well, do you?”
“I think I’m beginning to, yes.”
She turned away from him, the events of the night just too much. “All right, then. You think you

know me so well? Why don’t you tell me.”

“This is about your apartment, and knowing a Shem got into your safe place.” His strong arms

encircled her, cradling her, and she found herself sinking into their warmth, comforted more than she
thought possible.

That wasn’t the only thing bothering her. His ex-wife showing up had brought all her fears of

having a real relationship with Dante back to the fore. The man had been married once, to someone
who looked like a brunette Barbie, no less. His sister hated Beth’s guts and loved the ex so much
she’d convinced her to visit him on a regular basis, even though the ex was remarried.

What the hell was he doing with Beth?
Dante sighed into her hair. “You confuse the hell out of me, you know? One minute you’re mad as

hell at me, the next you’re ready to cry.”

“If you ask me if it’s that time of the month, I swear I’ll slap you stupid.” She was appalled to hear

how close to the surface the tears were. Maybe he was right. Maybe the events of the evening were
finally coming together in her head.

Beth usually had her act thoroughly together. She knew who she was and what she wanted out of

life. But Dante had a habit of throwing her off-kilter, of making her want things she never had before.
She wanted to stay right where she was, in the warmth of his arms, knowing she was protected by a
man who would literally fight demons for her.

His arms tightened around her. “Do I look stupid?” The smile in his voice was obvious.
She turned and hugged him, hiding her face against his chest. “I will never be easy, you know. Not

like Lillian.”

“If I wanted easy I’d take Lillian back.” He stroked her back gently, as if she were spun glass.

“You’re safe here, sweetheart. I’ll turn anyone who tries to get to you into a deep-fried pickle.”

She barked out a laugh. “Pickle?”
“Yeah, haven’t you had those before? There’s this place down the street that makes deep-fried

pickle...” He cleared his throat. “You know what? Forget I said anything.”

“You’re talking about Hooters.”
“There’s more than one restaurant that serves deep fried pickles.” He began rocking her gently and

rubbing his chin against her hair.

“But you mean Hooters.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I was single, and...it’s Hooters.”
“It’s an oink-fest, you pig.” But she didn’t pull away from his touch, didn’t stop him from pressing

tiny kisses to the side of her neck, burning her with their intensity. The banter was doing what nothing
else could have. The shakes she hadn’t really noticed she had were receding as she called her soon to
be lover a male chauvinist porker.

She hadn’t realized how cold she was until she began to warm at his fire.
“Elizabeth?”
“Hmm?”
“Come to bed with me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good—”
“Please.”
The quiet plea, almost begging her, crumbled her defenses. She wanted him as badly as he seemed

to want her. Everything else, the Shem, her apartment, even the Blake case, could wait.

When he leaned down for a kiss, she didn’t pull away. His kiss was slow and sweet, soothing her

even as she warmed at his touch. She deepened the kiss, taking his gentle heat and trying to turn it to a
roaring flame. When she cupped him, caressing his straining cock through his pants, he groaned.

With a muffled oath he picked her up and carried her up both flights of stairs to his bedroom. He

laid her gently on the coverlet before he slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. With a soft whisper of
cloth against skin he shook it off, letting it slide to the floor. She began to slide the dress off, as eager
as he to explore the passion burning between them.

His hands on hers stopped her. “No.” He ran them from her neck and over her breasts, a light

caress that left her aching and empty when he moved back again to continue removing his clothes. She
arched her back, trying to tempt him back into touching her, but he merely smiled and shook his head.
His hands went to his belt, undoing it slowly, slipping it out of the loops of his pants. He held the belt
between his hands, eyeing her speculatively.

She arched one brow, daring him to try what was so obviously running through his mind. If he

wanted to tie her up he’d have to earn that privilege, and while she trusted him she didn’t quite trust
him that much yet.

She scowled. The fact that she was even considering it told her she trusted him more than she’d

thought she did.

With a soft laugh he put the belt on the table next to her and began to unbutton his pants.
“Wait.” Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she brushed his hands aside and unbuttoned his

pants herself. Slowly, she pulled the zipper down, brushing her knuckles against his straining
erection. He hissed as her fingers stroked over the head of his cock, gathering the moisture at its tip.
Beth made sure made sure she had his undivided attention by slowly sucking that single drop off the
tip of her finger.

He began removing the pins that held up her hair, his touch warm and gentle as he slid his fingers

through the dark strands, massaging the back of her head. With a wicked little smile, she slid his
briefs over his thick, muscular thighs. His cock slapped against her cheek, hot and thick, and she
laughed.

She gasped when he pushed her back on the bed. He crawled over her, wearing nothing more than a

sexy grin. He thrust against her, and even through the dress she could feel his cock like a hot brand
against her skin. “You wouldn’t be laughing at anything in particular, would you, Elizabeth?”

She gulped and shook her head as his arms bracketed her. He lowered himself along her entire

length, his cock pressing against her thigh as he nudged her legs apart. “That’s good. I wouldn’t want

to think you were laughing over anything particular.” He thrust against her again, more than making
his point.

“You’d better uncover the sheath if you want to put away your mighty sword.”
Nibbling and sucking till he hit the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he sputtered out a laugh,

tickling her with his whiskers.

When she felt his teeth at her throat she realized he was marking her again. “What is it with you and

hickeys?”

“Mmm.” He hummed under his breath and licked the same spot he’d just marked her. “Mine.”
“Happy with yourself, Captain Caveman?”
He kissed the hollow of her throat. “Yup.” He sounded unbearably happy about that.
He began to slowly strip the dress down her body, kissing and nibbling each inch of her exposed

flesh until she was panting and writhing beneath him. Once he had it completely off, he gently petted
the silky thong covering her pussy. He slipped one finger under the fabric, lightly stroking the curls
just over her clit.

“God, Dante, that feels so good.” She arched against his hand, inviting his fingers lower.
Abruptly he stopped stroking her. He looked up at her, and her heart faltered. His irises had turned

to living flame, the fire within them making them burn. Flames burst along his skin, his inner fire
reaching for her, caressing her skin. The sensual wave of heat left her gasping, ready to beg for more.
She grasped his biceps, moaning as his fire leapt onto her hands and down her arms. “Oh, God.
Dante.”

Suddenly her mouth was taken in the most erotic kiss she’d ever received. The heat inside his

mouth was almost too much. She could imagine it against her skin, sucking her nipples or taking her
clit inside.

Dante began stroking his finger over her clit, matching the rhythm of his tongue in her mouth to the

flicks and swirls. The heat of his touch sent her over the edge within seconds, her nails digging into
his arms as the fire leapt higher. She was left gasping, reeling in the aftermath of the most intense
orgasm she’d ever experienced.

Him, inside her, was going to kill her, she just knew it.
He tore his lips from hers, reaching down and sucking one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth a

small, stinging pain. The searing heat of his touch was tempered by the gentle caress of his tongue.
That little bit of pain and pleasure was all that was needed to send her over the edge a second time.
She cried out, holding him tightly to her breast, pushing further into his mouth as he continued sucking
and nipping until she thought she’d lose consciousness.

“Holy shit.” Beth pushed both hands into his hair as he continued his nipping and sucking, causing a

small series of mini orgasms to race through her system. “Does this happen every time?”

“Nope.” He looked just as awed as she did as he brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s all you.”
“God.”
“Nope.” He frowned sadly as he began licking and nipping his way down her stomach, pushing her

legs apart almost roughly with his hands.

“Whuuh?” When he nipped the inside of her thigh she nearly flew off the bed. “Oh, God.”
“Nope. Still not right.” He sucked her clit into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue. The heat was

nearly unbearable.

“Fuck! Yes, Dante!” She felt the top of her head practically blow off as he hummed slightly under

his breath. The vibration shoved her into an orgasm that left her shaking and breathless.

He lifted his lips off her clit and shook his head again. “Gotta work on getting it right.”
She looked at him in shock. He sounded disappointed. “Feels like you’re getting it right to me.”
He licked a slow line from the top of her curls to the tip of her chin. “Nope. Not me. You.”
Before she could answer, he sealed her lips with a kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, their

two tastes awakening her arousal all over again.

He fitted himself to her, slowly pushing himself into her still quivering body. She felt him shudder

as he seated himself fully, his balls resting against her ass. He began to move, slow, easy strokes that
began building the tension inside her again. She matched him stroke for stroke, her hands making lazy
circles on his back as she asked, “So, Dante, what am I doing wrong?” She stroked one nail lightly
over his nipple.

He stopped moving, and she frowned up at him, totally bewildered by the look in his on his face.

“Say my name.”

She blinked. She could feel him throbbing within her, could feel his muscles quivering with need,

and he wanted to hear his name? “Dante.”

He shook his head, withdrawing from her slightly. “Say my name.”
One brow quirking upward, she said, “Dante.”
He sighed and reached between their bodies, circling her clit and causing her to arch up with a

hiss, impaling herself back onto his cock. “Say my name.”

“Damn it, Dante, stop fucking around!” She wrapped her legs around him and tightened them,

pulling him back into her body. She was starting to get pissed off.

“Elizabeth.”
She stopped moving, suddenly realizing what he wanted.
He dropped off his arms, bringing them skin to skin from head to toe. Against her lips he

whispered, “Say my name.”

She licked her lips and swallowed as he began slowly moving within her again. “Dante.” His name

was a moan, a cry, a sobbing breath that left her needing him even more.

It was as if she’d flipped a switch within him. He reared above her and began pounding in and out

of her body, a desperate expression almost overshadowing the powerful need she saw in his face.
“Again.”

“Dante,” she breathed. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.
“Again,” he muttered, biting down slightly and stroking away the sting with his tongue.
“Oh. Oh, Dante!” She shrieked, coming harder than she’d ever come before, blinding white-hot

pleasure that left her wrung out and gasping for breath. He cried out, his heat pouring into her, setting
her aflame, warming her with his inner fire until she didn’t know where he left off and she began.

When it was over he collapsed on top of her, taking her mouth with a tenderness that left her

shaking. Her name was a breathless sigh on his lips before he rolled off her, tugging her close. He
cradled her to him, stroking his hand through her hair, both of them shaking in the aftermath and
drenched in sweat.

She didn’t need marks on her neck to know the truth.
She was his.

Chapter Fourteen

Beth woke up the next morning, confused. The early morning sunlight streaming in the window was
shining in at the wrong angle, striking her face instead of the wall opposite her bed. She sat up, trying
to get her bearings, and caught sight of her naked breasts.

“Oh, shit.”
She remembered now. Her apartment had been broken into by some evil demon thing and Dante

had insisted on bringing her home. She’d met Lillian, whom she’d hated on sight, and admitted she’d
fallen in love with—and fucked—Dante.

And that was the normal stuff. Meeting Dante’s family had been an eye-opener, to say the least.

Everyone she’d met wanted to touch her and hug her and question her about everything from her shoe
size to whether or not she and Dante were going to get married.

She groaned, her head in her hands. She could smell him on the sheets, on her skin, and found

herself eagerly inhaling the scent, something she never would have done had Dante still been in the
bed with her.

Yawning, she pushed her dark hair out of her face and surveyed Dante’s bedroom. She’d been far

too preoccupied the night before to get a good look around, but she took the opportunity to do so now.

The same wood floors that ran throughout the rest of the house were here too. The king-sized four-

poster bed was maple, the sheets a dark maroon.

Above the headboard was a framed picture of a lightning strike. Another lightning print was framed

over the matching bureau instead of a mirror. The mirror that was in the room was a tall, freestanding
style tucked into one corner of the room.

The wall on her side of the bed boasted two windows draped in soft, sheer gold curtains. Dante

had slept on the side closest to the master bathroom and another door she bet led to his closet. He’d
painted the walls a rich coffee color.

She liked it. It was warm and inviting without being too masculine.
The door opened cautiously. Beth pulled the sheet up over her breasts, not certain how to handle

things. She wasn’t certain she wanted to see Dante with morning-after Muppet hair. “Dante?”

“Good morning, Beth.” Andi’s cheerful voice floated over Beth.
“Andi?” What the fuck was she doing here?
She watched in astonishment as Andi entered the room, arms full of shopping bags. “Guess what

I’ve been up to?”

“Neiman Marcus, I’d say.” Beth stared at the bags suspiciously, secretly relieved it was Andi

who’d come in and not Dante. “Does one of them have coffee in it? I’ll have you sainted if you have
coffee.”

Andi laughed. “Coffee’s on the way, courtesy of Detective Zucco.” Andi leaned in and whispered,

“Did you have fun?”

Beth looked up at Andi and debated hitting her with the pillow. “What the hell do you have in the

bags?”

“Clothes for you, my sweet.” Andi dumped the bags unceremoniously onto the bed. Shirts and

pants, underwear and socks, shoes and cosmetics all tumbled together onto the comforter like crazy
colored snow. “Seth called me last night. He told me how your apartment got broken into and

trashed.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her glee turning to concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I think Dante was more shaken than I was.”
“He’s a cop. He’s used to looking for the worst to happen.” Andi patted Beth’s knee. “I’m just glad

you weren’t alone when you went in, and that the burglar was long gone.” She tilted her head. “Could
it have anything to do with the case you’re on?”

Oh hell yes, but Beth couldn’t tell Andi that. “Anything is possible.”
Andi shot her a skeptical look, then shook her head and apparently let it go—at least for now.

“Anyway, Seth asked for my help, and gave me Dante’s number. I called Dante and he said it was all
right to bring this stuff over for you this morning.” Andi shrugged. “What could I do? Pass up the
opportunity of a lifetime to give you an unannounced makeover?”

Beth looked at the collection of clothes strewn across the bed. She picked up the black and silver

teddy, holding it up to her breasts. She glared at Andi. “A makeover, huh?”

“Good morning.” Dante entered the room, and she quickly shoved the teddy under the sheets, her

cheeks burning. His wicked grin told her she’d been a second too late. “Damn. What a very good
morning to me.”

Beth whimpered and made grabbing motions with her hands. Fuck the teddy, the man had coffee.

Dante laughed as she grabbed the mug from his hand and took a huge sip, moaning at the flavor. “Oh
thank you, Jesus. French roast.”

“And good morning to you too.” He kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear, “You’re only

supposed to moan like that when I fuck you.”

She glared and took another sip, shivering in pleasure as the caffeine rushed through her system.
Dante stole her cup, the bastard, and drank. “Love the hair, tesoro.”
She snarled at him. “Gimme or die.”
“Give you what?” He took another sip.
“Um, Detective Zucco?” Both Beth and Dante turned to Andi. “She’s not kidding. The last man who

stole her coffee was found under a bridge, shaking and incoherent. Every time someone said the word
espresso he screamed and passed out.”

Beth bit her lip. Andi could sell snake skin purses to pythons, let alone a small white lie that would

give Beth back her coffee. Beth held out her hand, smiling smugly when the hot mug of deliciousness
was placed back in it.

“You are evil women.” Dante backed out of the room slowly, but Beth could see the laughter he

was holding back. “Evil, coffee thieving, half-naked women.”

Did he just say...? Glancing at herself she saw...
“Aw, geez.” She quickly pulled the sheet back over her naked breasts as Dante closed the door.

“At least he left the coffee.”

A snort of laughter sounded from behind the closed door, then Dante’s footsteps faded away.
She went downstairs an hour later a new woman, freshly showered and dressed in brand new black

jeans and a black V-neck pullover. Dante was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and eating cereal,
reading the morning paper. “Good morning.” He pushed a small plate of blueberry muffins toward
her. “Andi said you like these.”

“Thanks.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table, waiting for him to say something.

Anything. The playful mood of earlier seemed to be gone, and she wasn’t sure why.

Eventually he lowered the paper with a sigh. “Is something wrong?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking that? You’re the one who’s ignoring me, not the other way around.” She

picked up a muffin and broke it in half.

“Sorry.” He neatly folded the paper and stared at her. “But I got an interesting phone call this

morning while you were in the shower.”

“Oh? From who?” She frowned, worried. Purvis hadn’t been released from the hospital yet. With a

heart attack it was possible something else had happened, like a blood clot to the brain. “Is Purvis all
right?”

A faint smile crossed his face. “He’s good, and thank you for asking, but that wasn’t who called.”
She blew out a relieved breath. “Then who did?”
“Sam.”
Uh-oh. “Why did she call you?”
“She called here looking for you. She’s on her way over.”
“Sam is coming here?” This could not end well. Dante was sure to mention this visit to his BFF,

Damien.

“What’s so unusual about that? I know she’s shy, but I don’t have two heads or anything.”
“Your brother in weirdness is Damien Wyatt.” And if she’d known that she never would have

introduced Dante to Sam. Poor, poor Sam, who’d loved her boss and gotten fired by him.

“Yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Dante picked up his glass of orange juice.
“She used to work for Wyatt Industries. In fact, Mr. Wyatt was the one who fired her. I understand

there were rumors of embezzlement, but no proof, so he told her the position was ‘phased out.’”
Dante choked on his juice. “Didn’t you know?”

“I knew he’d fired someone, but I didn’t realize it was Sam.” He set the glass down carefully.

“Damien is also on his way over. If I’d known, I would have arranged something else so they didn’t
have to meet.” Dante appeared truly remorseful.

Beth sighed wearily. “She was in love with him.”
Dante’s expression turned odd, startled. “Well, shit. He’s been pining for someone for a little over

a year now.”

“You think it was Sam?” If so, perhaps Beth could help Damien and Sam overcome their

differences. Sam needed someone who could take care of her. She got so lost in her work that she
forgot to eat and sleep. If Damien was anything like Seth and Dante, he’d take good care of her friend
once he got proof she had nothing to do with the theft from his company.

She’d have to make sure that proof landed on his desk as soon as possible. Sam deserved a happy

ending—and a keeper—more than anyone she’d ever known.

The doorbell rang, and he grimaced. “Here we go.”
She stood quickly and moved into the living room in time to see Sam enter the house. Her friend

looked flustered, and the reason for it soon became obvious—Damien Wyatt entered behind her. The
expression on his face did not bode well for Sam. He stared at her friend like she was a particularly
obnoxious bit of stuff stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“Hi, Sam,” Beth said, hugging her friend. She wasn’t surprised to feel Sam’s hands shaking against

her back as the frail blonde hugged her back. “Buck up,” she whispered. “Big bad Beth will protect
you.”

She was rewarded with a small laugh. “Thanks. I think I’ll need it.”
“Ms. Brody was just on the porch when I pulled up. What is she doing here?” Damien’s voice was

hard, unforgiving.

“She works for me, Damien. She’s here because she’s got information on the Blake case.” Beth’s

voice was as hard as his. She moved to stand in front of her friend to protect her from Wyatt’s cold
stare.

“You don’t say.” Damien took a seat on the sofa, his gaze darting to Dante. “We need to talk later.”
“Fine.” Dante headed into the kitchen. “But I’m not arguing with you people without more coffee.

Give me a few minutes.”

The silence he left behind was thick enough to choke a whale as Damien and Sam studiously

ignored one another.

“All right. Let’s get started.” Dante returned about ten minutes later with four mugs of coffee,

cream and sugar, all piled neatly on a serving tray. He set the tray on his coffee table and picked up a
mug, fixing it just the way Beth liked it. “What have you got for us, Sam?”

The shock on Damien’s face at Dante’s casual use of Sam’s first name amused Beth. She settled on

the floor, making herself look very much at home as Sam settled gingerly on the opposite end of the
sofa from Damien.

That left no place for Dante to sit, unless he wanted to squeeze his huge bulk in between Damien

and Sam. He settled the problem by sitting on the floor near Beth, his big body close to hers, his
shoulder pressed against her knee.

“Robert Kensington has been taking payoffs from Todd Blessing’s account for the last six months,”

Sam began. Her voice began softly, shyly. She studiously avoided looking at Damien. “Two thousand
here, five thousand there, none of it regularly. Last night I realized it had all been transferred to an
account in the Caymans, into the same bank Mrs. Blake used.”

“You don’t say.” Dante rubbed Beth’s thigh absently.
Sam nodded. “Is it possible that she was in on the blackmail?”
“It is.” Beth sighed. “The more I find out about this woman the less I like her.” It was shades of her

mother all over again. Except Beth’s mother had never done anything illegal, just immoral.

“And just where did you come up with this information?” Damien glared at Sam.
Sam shifted further away from Damien, almost seating herself on the arm of the sofa to get away

from him. “I printed out the documents I thought you’d need to see. They’re in my briefcase.” She
pulled out a folder from her bag that was bulging with documents. “These are all of Kensington’s and
Blessing’s bank statements from the last six months.”

Damien stood and began to pace. “If Ms. Brody has obtained them illegally, they’ll be thrown out

of court. You know it and I know it.” Damien glared at Dante. “Why are you working with her? She’s
a thief, pure and simple.”

Sam slipped the files into Beth’s hands. “I am not.”
Dante stood and faced Damien. “Sam, where did you get this information?”
Sam shrugged. “I went through his trash.”
Everyone stared at her, and she seemed to shrink in on herself. “I thought that he might have thrown

away something with his account number on it, and he did. It was a simple matter to run a few
possible passwords, and then I was in his account. I printed out the statements, then repeated the
process with Mr. Blessing.”

Beth laughed. “Did you wear a trench coat and a fedora?”
Sam blushed. “Maybe.”

“Atta girl.” Beth gave Sam two thumbs up.
“Were you seen?” Dante’s concern was touching.
“I was careful. I did it at three in the morning, so no one would see me.”
“You trespassed on private property.” Damien’s voice was laced with ice.
Sam shrugged. “Technically, no. When someone throws something away, puts it on the curb, it’s

considered abandoned property, and therefore public domain. Cops don’t need a search warrant to
pick up trash bags and go through them, and neither do I.” She ignored the silence that greeted the
statement and continued. “It was the logical next move. Without the account information I couldn’t
trace the money once it left the United States. I went through everyone else’s trash too,” she added
quietly. “There were a few red flags, but nothing yet that I’d want to say. Not without a little more
verification.”

“Good work, Sam.” Beth ignored Damien’s snort of disdain. If Damien didn’t knock it off, Beth

was going to smack him, suspected Nephilim or not. She kept her attention on Dante, aware they’d
need to do something about the unexpected information Sam had uncovered. “We need to talk to
Kensington.”

He nodded. “I’ll need to talk to Gabriel, tell him what we found out. Or rather, what you found out

and were kind enough to pass on to me,” he said to Sam. “If Kensington is one of the Shem, he hides it
very well.”

“Meaning?”
“I haven’t sensed anything around him like I would normally.”
Damien’s scowl turned to a look of concern. “There are only a few types of Shem who could hide

from us, Dante.”

“I know, and that worries me.”
“What’s a Shem?”
Sam’s innocent question shocked both men into silence. “Oh, shit.” Damien looked ready to puke.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

Beth patted Sam’s arm. If she was going to try and get Damien and Sam together she’d have to let

Sam in on their secret, but she wasn’t going to do it while Dante and Damien were there. She’d fill
Sam in on the secret in private. “I’ll explain later.”

“Like hell you will.” Damien glared at Beth.
Beth glared back, crossing her arms over her chest, daring him to do something to stop her.
“Stop it, both of you.” Dante smiled sweetly at Sam. “Did you discover anything else?”
“The property in the Cayman Islands? I did a little more digging, and discovered that the property,

while in the name of Jennifer Blake, had a cosigner.”

“And the cosigner was?” Beth asked.
“Todd Blessing.”
Dante whistled soundlessly. “So, now we have a motive for murder. Kensington was blackmailing

Blessing about his affair with Blake. Blessing kills Blake to hold on to his political career, but
Kensington gets something on him and ups the ante.”

“Which means that—if you’re right—Kensington would be Blessing’s next target. Kill Kensington

and you’ve effectively silenced the blackmailer.”

“What if Kensington were the murderer?” Sam asked quietly. “He could be making it appear that

Blessing is the bad guy and blackmailing him to keep quiet about it. If the affair came out, Blessing

would look like the natural suspect.”

Beth shook her head slowly as she pondered the theory. “It has possibilities, but it’s a bit

convoluted. Too easy for the police to figure it out.”

“Just like it’s too easy for the police to place the blame squarely on Blessing?” Dante shook his

head in turn. “Sometimes an egg is just an egg.”

Beth grimaced. “Still, sometimes you get a surprise in the egg, like a double yoke.”
“Or a dead baby chicken,” Sam added quietly.
“Thank you for that lovely image.” Damien stood. “Seth and I went through Beth’s apartment, but

we didn’t find anything that stood out other than the obvious. There were some prints we lifted, and
I’m going to run them through the database to see what we can find.”

“What database?”
Damien shot Sam a look, clearly uncomfortable with telling Beth anything while the blonde was in

the room. “Have Dante explain it.” He grabbed his jacket off the arm of the sofa and headed for the
front door. “I’m going to get to work on that immediately. I’ll call you the minute I know something.”

“Thanks, Damien. We appreciate it.” Dante slipped his arm around Beth’s shoulders. “Stay safe,

my brother.”

Damien smiled. “Stay safe, my brother.” He left quietly, refusing to acknowledge Sam’s quiet

goodbye.

Sam bit her lip. “He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t trust you.” Dante ruffled Sam’s hair. “Give us time. I’m

pretty sure Beth plans on fixing that.” He winked at Beth. “Right?”

“Damn straight.” She’d fix what Damien had broken if it was the last thing she did.
“Thank you, Bethie.” Sam’s shy smile was all the payment she needed.
“You’re welcome, Sammie.”

Chapter Fifteen

Dante pulled up in front of Kensington’s home, surprised at the quiet elegance and the high end
neighborhood. He would have expected Kensington to live in one of the newer, more modern condos
in town, not one of the older, historical homes in the area. It was a family oriented place someone
with Dante’s salary would never be able to afford. The row of brick homes and store fronts lined
Main Street, standing side by side with free-standing Victorians. Kensington lived in one of the latter.

Dante found a parking spot on the street fairly close to Kensington’s home. “Stay close, and let me

do the talking. If he is a Shem, you’ll need to back off if fighting starts.”

“You’re going to go all Johnny Storm in the middle of the day?”
He stopped dead. “You know who Johnny Storm is?”
She made a rude noise. “Pfft. Yeah. He played Captain America. I think every woman in America

wanted in his tight, shiny pants.”

He didn’t like the little yearning sigh that followed that, nor the faraway look. “Elizabeth?”
“Mmm. Shiny.”
He muttered something in Italian, growling when she laughed at him. “Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
He started up the steps to Kensington’s front door. Just as he reached for the bell, the door opened.

Dante tried to peer into the gloom of Kensington’s home, but he couldn’t see a thing. Not even a hint
of Shem stench. “Kensington.”

Kensington appeared startled to see them. “How can I help you, Detective?”
“We have a few questions for you concerning a possible hit and run, and blackmail. Care to talk to

us about that?”

Kensington paled. “Hit and run? What the hell?”
Dante grinned savagely. “No question on the blackmail, huh?”
Kensington stared at them for a moment, and Dante tensed. He’d seen that expression in other

perps’ eyes before. “Don’t even try—”

He’d said it a moment too late. Kensington slammed the door in their faces. He could hear the man

running through to the back of the house, his footsteps fading away.

Dante broke into the front door just in time to see Kensington head out the back. “You take the

rear!” He ran swiftly through the house, chasing after Kensington.

The bastard was quick. Dante barely caught sight of him before he was through the alley and into

the street. Kensington went sailing past Elizabeth.

“He’s got a gun!”
“Merda.” Dante ran after him, dodging cars left and right, always keeping Kensington in his sight.

There were lots of people shopping and dining in this area, even in the cold. Dante shuddered and
poured more energy into the pursuit as all of the things that could go wrong went through his head,
from hostages to accidental shootings. Dante had to stop him before that happened.

He pulled his own piece, prepared to shoot if necessary. Dante felt his knees jarring against the

hard pavement as he threw everything he had into stopping Kensington.

Kensington forced his way through the crowds while Dante was forced to weave his way through,

unwilling to hurt civilians. They raced across another street, Kensington knocking down a little old

man in his flight. As Dante gasped for breath and considered going for the car, Elizabeth came flying
out of a cross street, tackling Kensington to the ground.

The gun went off, and Dante’s heart stopped right in his chest.
No.
Dante froze, terror keeping his feet rooted to the ground.
No. Not Elizabeth.
His fire filled him, thawing him enough to move. He darted through the milling throng of terrified

onlookers, praying with all his might that Kensington was the one who’d taken the bullet.

Not my Elizabeth. Please, God. Not her.
He slowed to a walk as he approached, his heart in his throat. He couldn’t lose Elizabeth. Not

now, not ever. He felt the fire within him begin to swell, a volcano ready to erupt, to obliterate the
man who tried to kill his mate.

He thought he’d pass out in relief when he heard Elizabeth cursing up a storm. The fires died, the

subtle warmth he was used to once more filling him.

She was alive, and that was all that mattered.
Kensington lay on the ground, staring at Dante in horror. “It wasn’t supposed to be loaded, I swear!

I’m sorry, so sorry. I only wanted you to back away. I never load it.” The gun lay on the concrete, as
Kensington slowly lowered his head into his hands and began to cry.

“Tell it to the judge.” Dante reached for his cuffs, wincing when a sharp pain stopped him cold.

“Aw, fuck.” He handed the cuffs over to Elizabeth. “I’m hit.”

Her face went white, but she cuffed Kensington with all the efficiency of an experienced officer.

“Sit your ass down, you’re bleeding like a stuck pig. I’ll call nine-one-one.”

Now that he was feeling the pain of the gunshot wound, he was really feeling it. Dizzy, he settled

on the curb to wait for the ambulance. “Make sure they send a squad car.” He glared at Kensington as
Elizabeth pressed her scarf to his bleeding arm. “He’s assaulted a police officer.”

Kensington only cried harder.
Once the police arrived, Beth gave a brief statement while the paramedics worked on Dante. He

could barely hear her, the sound of his own heartbeat was so loud in his ears. The paramedics looked
concerned at the large pool of blood that surrounded him.

One of the paramedics shared a concerned look with the other as they started IVs on him. Dante

barely felt the pinch of the needle. “Let’s get him loaded.”

He let them help him onto the gurney, cursing. “Elizabeth?”
“Here.”
He blinked. He hadn’t noticed her coming over to the ambulance. How badly was he hurt? “Stay

safe.”

She nodded sharply, but he could see the tears sparkling behind her glasses. “I’ll be right behind

you, I promise.”

He smiled. “And when Elizabeth Rand gives her word...”
She kissed his cheek. “She keeps it. No matter what.”
They wheeled him into the ambulance, the jerk of the gurney hitting the back of the ambulance

making his vision gray out. Or that might have been the blood loss, he wasn’t sure.

He barely remembered the ambulance ride. Only the sound of quiet speech, and the occasional

question he was forced to answer. For the first time in a very long time, Dante was frightened. He’d

been shot, stabbed, covered in Shem gore, but he’d never come quite so close to passing out. Hell, he
could barely feel the wound, but consciousness slipped in and out of his grasp.

When the driver hit the sirens, Dante knew it was bad.
They pulled into the hospital, the EMTs rushing him inside. A swirl of motion around him nearly

made him sick. A man in a white coat poked his arm, and Dante wanted to howl. “Sir? Can you tell
me what happened?”

He glared at the doctor. “I was shot.”
The doctor turned aside and said something quietly to one of the hovering nurses before turning his

attention once more to Dante. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, Detective Zucco.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dante grimaced. His voice was slurred.
“Get him ready for surgery.” The surgeon patted his shoulder. “Your family has been contacted.”
“Elizabeth?”
The doctor frowned. “Who’s Elizabeth?”
Dante reached out with his good hand. “Elizabeth Rand. My fiancée. Let her in.”
The doctor nodded. “I’ll inform the front desk that she’s to have access to your room.”
Dante sighed in relief. “Thanks.”
When the darkness covered his sight, the last thought on his mind was Elizabeth’s tearful

expression.

* * *

The police—once they were done questioning her—finally allowed her to leave. She’d promised
she’d be right behind him, but she’d been forced to renege thanks to a cop who couldn’t seem to
understand that she and Dante were working together. She’d refused to play the relationship card,
unsure if Dante wanted his coworkers to know about them.

She drove like a woman possessed all the way to the hospital. The bleeding had been bad, the way

his pupils had gone wide even worse. All sorts of scenarios were dancing through her mind as she
made her way to the front lobby.

What if Kensington had done more damage than she’d thought?
She marched up to the front desk. “I’m looking for Detective Dante Zucco.”
“Name?”
“Elizabeth Rand.”
“One moment.” The woman typed on the keyboard. “He’s in surgery right now, but you’re welcome

to go to the waiting room.” The receptionist gave Beth directions from the elevator to the waiting
room.

Beth didn’t waste a second, heading straight for the area where she’d get news on Dante. Once

there, she found her way blocked by Francesca. “What are you doing here?” Francesca’s gaze blazed
with anger. “Don’t you know you’re not wanted?”

Ugh. Wonderful. Beth would get the sister who hated her. She pushed her glasses up, determined to

get into that waiting room. There was no way Francesca was keeping her from Dante. “Look,
Francesca—”

“Lillian is already here. She’s the one who belongs, not you. Why don’t you go home and wreck

someone else’s life?” Francesca turned on her heel and, in a loud voice, told the nurse at the duty

station, “Under no circumstances is Ms. Rand allowed into my brother’s room.” With one last
venomous look in Beth’s direction, Francesca returned to the waiting area.

Beth kept her mouth shut. As much as she wanted to bitch Francesca out, now was not the time.

That would come later, when she was certain Dante was all right.

All of them were there. Teresa, crying, was clutching a rosary in her hand. She fingered the beads,

speaking softly in Italian. Russ sat right next to her, rubbing her shoulders and looking grim.

Anna had her children, and was talking quietly on the phone. Francesca, her white lab coat

gleaming, was talking to them quietly about her brother’s condition. Beth strained to hear, but
Francesca deliberately pitched her voice too low for Beth to get more than one or two words. With a
sigh, she flopped into a chair, prepared to wait it out.

Soon, a man in scrubs appeared in the doorway. “Mrs. Zucco?”
“Si.” Teresa rose and shook hands with the doctor. “How is my son, per favore?”
“He pulled through surgery just fine. The bullet nicked the superior ulnar collateral artery, but it

missed the ulnar nerve. We extracted the bullet and I expect him to make a full recovery. We’ll be
moving him to a room shortly.”

Teresa collapsed against her husband. “Grazie, doctor, grazie.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Zucco.”
She waited until the doctor left the room before resuming her rosary. The soft Italian prayer

soothed Beth, the words bringing to mind Dante. “Padre nostro, che sei nei cieli, sia santificato il
tuo nome, venga il tuo regno, sia fatta la tua volontà come in cielo così in terra. Dacci oggi il
nostro pane quotidiano, e rimetti a noi i nostri debiti come noi li rimettiamo ai nostri debitori, e
non ci indurre in tentazione, ma liberaci dal male. Amen.”

Before long a nurse popped in to inform them that Dante was in a room. “But you have to

remember, the detective will be coming off anesthesia, so I’d only go in one or two people at a time,
and for no longer than a few minutes at best.”

Teresa stood and placed her rosary in her pocket. “I will go first, then Elizabeth.”
Beth started. She hadn’t realized Teresa even knew she was there. “Thank you.”
Teresa smiled gently before slipping out of the room, her husband right on her heels. Francesca

was scowling, but there was little she could do.

Teresa had spoken, and Beth would get to see Dante.
Francesca left the waiting room, possibly to go check on her broom or stir her cauldron. Beth

couldn’t care less.

She tried to wait patiently, but damn it. She needed to see that Dante was all right. She was going

to have nightmares about the amount of blood he’d lost.

“Elizabeth?” Russ was in the doorway, waving her over.
She stood immediately. “How is he?” She made her way to the door and followed Russ to the

room. She could hear the soft voice of Teresa speaking Italian to her son inside.

“Hurting, and slightly out of it.” Russ hugged her before pushing her toward the door. “He’s asking

for you.”

“She’s not allowed in, Dad.” Francesca’s clipped, angry voice made Beth want to growl.
“Yes, she is.” Russ turned on his daughter with a scowl.
“I’m the doctor in the family. I say she isn’t.” Francesca smirked at Elizabeth. “Besides, Lillian is

waiting to see him.”

“I say Elizabeth is, and that Lillian can wait until hell freezes over.” Russ pointed toward the door.

“Go, Elizabeth.”

“Yes, sir.” Elizabeth went. She took a deep breath and headed into Dante’s hospital room. He lay

there, his arm swaddled in bandages, the various monitors beeping out their you’re in the hospital
song. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” He glared at her blearily. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.”
She shut the door. “Shut the hell up, Dante. You’ll give your mother agita.”
Dante sputtered out a laugh as Teresa kissed him on the forehead. “We’re corrupting her, Mama.”
Teresa chuckled at her son. “Before you know it she’ll be cooking almost as good as you.”
“I learned from the best.”
Teresa sighed, the sound full of happiness. “Get some rest, mia fiamma. I’ll be back soon.”
“With food?”
Wow. She’d never seen anyone make such adorable puppy eyes before. Dante had the skill down

to an art form.

“Si, with food.” Teresa kissed her son on the forehead once more. “Elizabeth?”
Something about Teresa’s tone filled Beth with the need to salute. “Yes?”
“Watch over my son.”
“I will.” It wasn’t a difficult promise to give. She had every intention of remaining glued to his side

until he was discharged.

“Where were you?”
She flopped into a chair next to his bed. “Francesca the Terrible wouldn’t let me into the room.”
His expression didn’t bode well for Francesca. “I told the hospital staff to let you in.”
“Well, apparently she didn’t get the memo.” More like Francesca had shredded it on arrival, but

Beth didn’t want to strain his relationship with his sister any more than she already had. “The doctors
say you’ll live, by the way.” She didn’t bother trying to hide her relief.

“I heard.” He pouted at her. “You weren’t hurt.”
His voice was almost accusing. Beth hid a grin. He was cute when he was all doped up on pain

meds. “I’ll run right out and stub my toe if it will make you feel better.”

He smiled ruefully. “I can only think of one thing that would make me feel better.”
“Name it.”
He leaned back against the pillows. “Come over here, and I’ll show you.”
The sexy glance had her approaching the bed cautiously. “Dante, your arm...”
“The hell with my arm,” he growled as he reached up with his left hand and pulled her down next

to him.

The sweetness of the kiss rocked her. She’d never felt anything so powerful in her entire life.

Lightning raced through her body, her fingertips tingling as she felt him deepen the kiss, and she
hesitantly put her hands on his chest, flexing her fingers slightly, unsure for the first time just what to
do. She was afraid to hurt him, but at the same time just feeling him reassured her on some level.

She hadn’t lost him. That was all that mattered.
“I see you’re feeling better,” she whispered.
“Right as rain.”
Just as he kissed her again, the door to the hospital room opened again. “Excuse me!” Francesca’s

voice interrupted them.

Dante glared at Francesca. “Excuse yourself. Don’t you bother knocking anymore?”
“I gave strict orders that you weren’t to be disturbed.” Francesca made a move toward Dante’s

chart.

Beth had so many things she wanted to say, but now was not the time. Francesca could wait until

Dante was healed.

But damn if her tongue wasn’t going to be bloody from biting it so hard.
“Elizabeth, I want you to leave Francesca and me alone for a few moments. Go and get something

to eat, it must be lunch time by now.” Dante’s voice shocked her with its cold fury.

“More like dinner time.” Elizabeth stood to go. With a small smile, she brushed a gentle kiss

against his mouth. “I’ll be back in an hour.” She waved to Francesca. “See you soon.”

“I cannot believe the nerve of some people.” Francesca grabbed hold of her arm, halting her

progress out the door. “I told you that you weren’t welcome here.”

“Francesca, this stops now.” Dante’s tone was lethal despite the drugs, and Beth worried he’d try

to get out of bed to confront his sister.

She’d never heard him that pissed before. “It’s okay, Dante. I’m a big girl.”
“That’s one word for it,” Francesca muttered rudely.
Beth took a deep breath and reminded herself that she didn’t want to share a jail cell with

Kensington.

“I want Elizabeth. I don’t want Lillian. Is that clear enough for you, Francesca?”
“She got you shot, Dante. She’s not going to be allowed back in here.”
“She did not get me shot. The perpetrator we were chasing got me shot.” He snarled at her as she

continued to glare at Beth. “I will never be with Lillian again. What will it take to get through to
you?”

“Lillian was good for you, and you know it.” Francesca waved one hand toward Beth. “That

woman is not. I won’t see my brother stuck with some puttana who can’t find her own man. Now let
me go.”

“Puttana? If anyone’s the whore, it’s Lillian.”
“Lillian made a mistake.”
“Lillian fucked another man in my bed.”
Francesca gasped, but Beth doubted it was because of Lillian’s infidelity. “I’m your sister, and I

love you. I don’t want you to ruin your life with someone who isn’t worthy of you.”

“And Lillian won’t ruin my life?”
Beth began backing toward the door. Maybe if she got Teresa or Russ in here they’d get their

children to calm down. She didn’t like how red Dante’s face was becoming, or the way the heart
monitor was speeding up.

She especially didn’t like the flames dancing along his skin.
“She won’t ruin my life!” Dante shouted, loud enough to cause a commotion in the hallway. “Do

you understand me? This ends here, Francesca.”

Francesca stomped her foot. “It does not end until you and Lillian are together again. I liked who

you both were when you were with her.”

“You liked that she told you my business.” Dante struggled to sit up, ignoring Beth’s hurried

movement to push him back. “The only thing Elizabeth will tell you is to go to hell.”

Francesca spat something out in Italian. “Vaffanculo, che cazzo.”

“Francesca! Basta!”
Oh, thank you, Jesus. The cavalry was here. Teresa marched into the room, followed by Russ.
“Your brother runs his own life, Francesca. Who he chooses to see is none of your business, and he

chooses not to see Lillian. Let it go.” Teresa stared at her daughter, her expression hard and
unyielding.

“She’ll ruin him, and I’ll get to say I told you so.” Francesca walked out of the hospital room,

twitching her lab coat back into place as she went.

“Are you going to tell me not to see Elizabeth, Mama?” Dante sounded weary, but at least the heart

monitor’s beeping had slowed once more.

“No, Dante.” She glided across the room, a tiny, regal woman. “Questo, ci prende un impegno e

tenere su con entrambe le mani. Lei non è come l’altro che hai sposato.” Teresa settled gingerly on
the side of the bed and patted Dante’s hand gently. “I never liked the other one. This one—” she
grinned, “—I like. She makes mia fiamma shout in anger at his sister.”

“Francesca has no right to say who can and cannot enter my room.” Dante’s eyelids were drooping.
Teresa shook her head. “No, she does not. Francesca always thinks more of her own importance

than anyone else does.” Teresa watched as her son began to slip into sleep. “I will watch over your
Elizabeth until you can, si?”

“Si, mama. Si.”
Together, Beth and Teresa sat and watched Dante sleep, vividly aware of how close they’d both

come to losing him.

Chapter Sixteen

When Beth reentered the hospital two days later, she got a surprise she hadn’t been expecting.

“Purvis!” Beth hugged Dante’s partner tightly. “You’re going home?”
“Soon. Lakisha and I are here to check on Dante.” He hugged her back, but his strong arms didn’t

hold her as tightly as they used to, and that worried her.

“How are you feeling?” She stepped back and checked him out from head to toe. He looked fit, if a

little tired.

“The docs say I’ll be fine. I only came here to check up on Dante, then its straight back to bed.”
She stared at Dante’s door, glad she couldn’t hear anything at all. Hopefully Francesca wasn’t

skulking around somewhere, ready to run her off again. “How is he?”

“Feeling ready to leave, I’d imagine. Dante hates hospitals. I’m betting he argued his way into an

early release.” He stared back at her, a wicked grin on his face. “You take it easy on him, you hear?
He’s never had to deal with someone like you before.”

She grinned up at him. “What makes you think I’m not going to take it easy on him?”
“Because I’ve known you forever, and I know exactly what you’re capable of. Remember?”
The emphasis on that last word wiped the grin off her face, replacing it with horror. “You

wouldn’t!”

“Let’s just say that, as long as you toe the line, a certain youthful indiscretion will remain our

secret.”

“That’s blackmail.” Beth glared at Purvis. The man would never go through with it.
She hoped.
Purvis smiled serenely. “Yes, I know.”
Shit. He would.
Behind him, the door opened. Dante stepped out, fully dressed. “What’s blackmail?”
Beth tensed as Dante slipped his arm around her. Uh-oh. He would come out just as Purvis

threatened her. “What are you doing out of bed?”

Purvis laughed. “Later, Dante. Take care of my girl.”
“Your girl?” Dante’s low growl sent shivers down her spine.
Purvis merely winked at her and sauntered off, leaving her alone with Dante.
To head him off, she turned in his embrace and hugged him back. “Have you been discharged?”
“Yup. I am going the hell home. Willing to drive me?” Dante settled in the wheelchair behind him,

grinning at the nurse waiting to wheel him to the front of the hospital. He held up a little blue piece of
paper. “I have a pain prescription, and I want to go home and sleep in my own damn bed.”

“Does Francesca know you’re checking out?”
“Francesca doesn’t tell me what to do.” The look on Dante’s face said not to ask any more

questions.

Beth shrugged. “All right. Let’s get you home.” She followed Dante and the nurse out of the

hospital, telling him to stay put while she got the car. Once she pulled up, she helped him settle into
the passenger seat. He was pale by the time she was done getting his seatbelt hooked. “I hope you
know what you’re doing by going home tonight.”

“I know what I’m doing. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot.”

Like she wanted, or needed, a reminder. His day job was dangerous, but it was his night job that

terrified her. Jennifer Blake’s mutilated body popped into her head.

She slid in behind the wheel, fastened her seat belt, then began the short drive to his house. “Where

do you want to go to fill your prescription?”

“Pick a place, I don’t care.” He leaned back wearily in his seat, one hand reaching up to rub

absently at the bandages under his coat. “What does Purvis have on you that you don’t want me to
know?”

She should have known he wasn’t going to let something like that go. When she glanced at him his

gaze was sharp and filled with curiosity. “None of your business.”

“It’s not that difficult to find out, Elizabeth.” His voice was quiet, but she could hear the

determination.

She sighed. “It’s more an embarrassing situation than an illegal one, and I’d really rather not go

into it if you don’t mind.”

He grinned. “Embarrassing? To you? It must be a hell of a secret, then.”
She flushed slightly, squirming in her seat. “Drop it, Dante.”
He ignored the warning in her voice. “How old were you when the embarrassing situation

occurred?”

She heard the amusement in his voice and clenched her hands on the steering wheel. “Never mind.”
“Did it have anything to do with Purvis?”
She took a deep breath and reminded herself that strangling a wounded man was definitely not

good. “Let it go.”

“You know I’m not going to be able to do that.” He eased around in his seat so that he was staring

at her directly. “What exactly could Purvis have on you that would make you blush like that?”

His curiosity had been aroused, and like a dog with a bone he was going to chew and chew until he

got to the marrow of her humiliation. Hell, it might be better just to tell him rather than let Purvis do
it. At least she’d be able to control how he was told. Purvis would have far too much fun with the
tale. “I was in a little trouble when I was sixteen.”

Dante’s grin widened. “Purvis was working Vice when you were sixteen.”
Beth could feel her teeth clenching as she became more and more uncomfortable. “Yes, he was.”
Once again he ignored the warning in her voice. “I can’t see you doing drugs, and I know you’d

never do anything truly illegal. You have too much integrity for that. So why don’t you just tell me so I
don’t have to call Purvis?”

She sighed roughly. “When I was sixteen I was picked up for prostitution.”
The silence was deafening. When she turned to face him she fully expected to see shock or horror.

Instead, he sat patiently, clearly waiting for the rest of the story.

Once again, his acceptance was nearly her undoing. “I really hate talking about this,” she said

unsteadily. “It’s embarrassing, it’s humiliating, and Purvis has been holding it over my head for
years.”

Dante nodded. “Tell me what happened.” His quiet question was totally nonjudgmental.
“It was Halloween, and I was on my way to a party dressed as a hooker—” She had to stop

because his laughter was so loud she could barely hear herself. She waited until he got himself back
under control. “All right, so I picked a poor choice of costume, poor neighborhood, poor everything.
During a routine sweep, I was picked up with the real prostitutes, fingerprinted, photographed,

charged and booked. And if you don’t stop laughing, I swear you’re going to walk home.”

He bit his lip, but it didn’t work. Little snorts of laughter kept escaping. “What did your parents

say?”

Beth grimaced. “Like they gave a shit. By that time, they’d both been remarried twice, and I was

kind of an afterthought. Luckily, Purvis knew my dad, and knew of me. He’s the one who got the
charges dropped. But every now and then, when he wants something from me, he shows me those mug
shots to get me to do what he wants.” She shook her head. “It’s fucking annoying.”

Dante leaned back in the seat, his smile turning wistful. “When I was sixteen, I was picked up for

shoplifting.”

She turned to Dante to see him watching her with a wicked grin. “Liar.”
He shook his head. “Truth. Ask my mother. The lecture I got...” He wrinkled his nose. “Well,

you’ve met my mother. It was mostly in Italian, calling me a teppista and a ladro. She broke out the
wooden spoon and began hitting me with it.”

“What?” She couldn’t picture Teresa hitting any of her children.
“Remember, my mother is a Legionnaire. She fully expected her children to toe the line, and I

didn’t.” He chuckled. “It really pissed her off when the spoon broke and I just laughed.”

“What happened? Did she call the police?”
“Nope. I had to return the merchandise, apologize to the merchant and work in his store for a week

doing whatever he asked me to do.”

“How did Purvis find out about it?”
Dante laughed. “He shopped in the store.”
Beth grinned. “He’s why you became a cop, isn’t he?”
Dante nodded. “He used to talk to me. Back then, I was so angry all the time. I just wanted my

parents to see me, not a Seris and a future warrior, but a kid.” He sighed roughly. “I think they saw
more than I realized, but back then? I was a punk.”

“Does he blackmail you too?”
“Hell, yes.”
She started to grin. “He’s such a rat bastard, isn’t he?”
“One of the best.”
“I think he’s going to retire.”
“I think so too.” Dante sighed. “I’m going to miss that son of a bitch.”
“Maybe we should get Lakisha to give us some blackmail material on him.”
Dante grinned. “I like the way you think.”

* * *

It didn’t take long to get the prescription filled, and they arrived back at his house a half hour later.
Beth immediately went to get him a glass of water, intent on feeding him his medication and sending
him off to bed.

Dante had every intention of going to bed, but he didn’t plan on going alone. He’d been half hard

since seeing her standing in the hospital with Purvis, and now that they were back in his home he had
every intention of having her, pain or no pain.

He followed her into the kitchen and wrapped his good arm around her. He slid his fingers under

her shirt and began to make circles on her bare skin, biting back a smile when she shuddered. He
pressed against her, his cock hard and eager.

She set the glass on the counter, turned off the water, then spun to face him. “Dante.”
He could hear the warning in her voice, but also the desire. She wanted him as much as he wanted

her. “Elizabeth.” He nibbled her neck, determined to get her to agree to come to bed with him.

“You’ve been shot.” She trembled as he caressed her stomach.
“Mm-hmm.” He was trembling as well, his hand shaking as he stroked her. “I need you.”
“You should be in bed.” Her voice was shaking.
He nipped her neck, sucking, marking her skin with his teeth. If he had his way she’d always wear

his mark. “What a good idea.”

“You...” She grunted, but it wasn’t in pain. “You need your rest.”
He pressed her up against the counter. “Come with me, Elizabeth.”
She stared at him, studying him intently before nodding. “All right, Dante. But on one condition.”
At this point he’d promise pretty much anything so long has he got inside her. “Yes?”
“You let me do all the work.”
Oh, thank God. She wasn’t going to fight him. “Fuck, yes.”
“Good.” She grinned. “You know how much I like being in charge.”
He half moaned, half laughed. “This should be interesting.”
She pulled free of him and crooked her finger. “Coming?”
“Not yet.” He followed her into the living room, ready to submit to both their desires. The pain in

his arm was a distant thing. His cock hurt far more, but that would change after they’d both gotten off.

But he’d deal with that once the time came.
She slid her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers.
Dante took the kiss she offered and deepened it, his tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth in a

display of what was to come. He needed her. He’d never needed anyone this much before. If she
didn’t start touching him soon, he’d die.

She began unbuttoning his shirt, the kiss making things awkward. Neither of them seemed willing to

break it, however—her lips never leaving his for a second as the shirt slipped off his shoulders.

The slight ache in his arm was worth it when her fingers began plucking at his nipples. She used

her other hand to begin unbuttoning his jeans, and whimpered when he stopped her.

“Upstairs.” He had to have her in his bed, on his sheets.
She began to stroke his cock through his jeans, grinning when he moaned again.
“What the hell are you doing to me?” he gasped as her warm mouth began to trace a trail down his

body.

“No, baby, not here.” He tugged her back up, ravaging her mouth with a hunger that was almost

frightening.

She pulled him to the couch in his living room and pushed him down, straddling his thighs. He

couldn’t find it in him to protest when she began kissing her way down his body again.

Elizabeth was going to devour him, and he was just fine with that.
She got his shoes and jeans off him, leaving him bare to her gaze. But unlike Dante, who would

have taken a moment to admire her beauty, she sucked his cock into her mouth with the ferocity of a
starving woman. He bucked up as her wet heat wrapped around him, her talented tongue stroking over
him desperately.

She was driving him insane, and she was still fully clothed.
He let her have her way with him, the suction of her mouth taking every thought away but one. He

needed more than her mouth on him. He had to be inside her, to mark her with his inner fire, the urge
to do so overwhelming everything else. He used his good hand to tug on her hair until she looked up.
“Get naked.”

“Dante.” Something in her expression said she’d planned on bringing him off, but not herself. She

must have been planning this from the moment he’d started caressing her stomach.

“Please.” He reached up, touching any part of her he could reach from his prone position. Her

thighs, her stomach, her knees, he stroked them all. “Please, Elizabeth.”

She frowned, the expression oddly sad. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He shook his head. “Let’s take this to bed. I’ll lie there and think of England.”
She burst into startled laughter. “You’re such a nut.”
“Your nut.”
Her laughter died, her expression awed. “I think you are.”
He held up his good hand. “Take me to bed, woman.”
That happy laughter bubbled out of her again, making him feel like Superman. She mockingly

saluted him. “Yes, sir.” She grabbed his hand and helped him off the sofa, careful of his wounded
arm. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

He looked down at his red, rock-hard cock.
“Forget I asked.” She dragged him to the stairs and up into the bedroom. “Lay down, Dante.”
He lay on his side of the bed, propped against the headboard. She’d already taken off her top and

bra, but watching her jeans slide down her long, silky legs had his cock jerking. The panties soon
followed, and he damn near wept for joy.

When she slid on to her side of the bed and reached for his cock he had to hold himself back by

sheer force of will. He would do exactly what she’d asked of him and give himself to her, knowing
that in the end it was he who’d ultimately claim her.

Elizabeth set her glasses on the end table before curling up next to him, her leg thrown over his, her

damp pussy brushing against his thigh. She sucked him once more into her mouth, her head bobbed up
and down, making him crazy with need. Dante gripped her hair and helped set the rhythm, their pants
and sighs the only sound in the quiet room.

He wanted to taste her, to have her come on his tongue, but he doubted she’d allow it. Already she

was trying to drive him to orgasm, sucking on him with such enthusiasm that if the need hadn’t been
there to claim her he would have spilled in her mouth.

“Elizabeth.”
She sucked on him harder.
“Let me taste you.” The request fell from his lips before he could stop it.
She shuddered.
“Please.”
She slowly slid off his cock. “All right.”
Her voice was breathless, but her movements sure as she carefully crawled up his body. She made

sure not to touch his wound. “If this hurts, it all stops.”

He bit back his response. It would hurt so good, but only if she allowed it. “I promise, if we hurt

my arm we’ll stop.” Right now, the only thing he felt was the need to be buried to the hilt inside her.

Instead, he leaned forward and lapped at her pussy, smiling when she gasped. “You taste so good,

tesoro.”

“What does that mean?”
“Hmm?” Dante could barely concentrate with such a feast in front of him. He lapped at her clit

carefully, not wanting to strain either of them.

“Tesoro. What does it me—” Her hips thrust forward the tiniest bit, and he knew he’d found a hot

spot. “Mean?”

“Treasure. Honey. Darling. All that and more.” It was his favorite term of endearment, the one he’d

heard his father use for his mother for years.

It was odd, but he’d never once called Lillian his treasure, but Elizabeth had been so since the

moment he realized he wanted her.

“Dante.” Her fingers were tugging on his hair, pulling him closer, and he obliged, sucking her clit

into his mouth. She writhed against him, her hips moving, her head thrown back in ecstasy. He
remembered how she’d reacted to his fire before, how she’d come and come against him, on him,
around him, and he let it loose, let it warm her flesh.

Elizabeth screamed, her body shuddering in climax as his fire stroked over her pussy. Dante was

awed at the beauty of her pleasure.

She really was made for him.
He licked his lips, her flavor on his tongue. “More?”
She whimpered.
“Would you rather ride me?”
The demanding look she shot him was kinda hot. “Don’t. Move.”
Dante froze. “Yes, ma’am.”
She slithered down his body, her skin caressing his, her breasts stroking him. She paused only long

enough to kiss his injured arm before sitting up, the top of his cock nudging at her opening. “I’m
warning you, Dante.” She leaned over him, arms on either side of his head, no part of her touching
him as she lifted her hips away from him. “Or it all stops.”

“Gonna tie me up?” The thought of being at her mercy didn’t scare him at all. He trusted her, more

than anyone other than his brothers.

Even shock looked good on her. “You’d like that?”
He shrugged his good shoulder. “Only if I get to return the favor.”
She laughed, low and husky. “Then we’ll have to invest in some rope.”
He grinned. “I guess we will.”
She sat up again, but this time she slid down his cock until his balls rested against her ass. “You’re

mine, Dante.”

He smiled. “Prove it.”
She began rocking her hips, fucking him gently. Her face was full of desire, her lips parted, her

cheeks flushed as she rode him. When she cupped her breasts and played with her nipples Dante felt a
stab of envy. He wanted to be the one to touch her there, but watching her toy with herself was the
next best thing.

Dante wanted to stroke her sleek skin, hold her hips and thighs while he thrust into her, but he knew

if he so much as twitched wrong she’d slide off him, leaving him desperate for her. So he did the only
thing he could do.

Dante lit his inner fire.
She gasped, her eyes going wide, her movements stuttering to a halt. “Jesus.”
“Nope. Dante.” He sighed sadly. “Someday you’ll get that right.”
She stared down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you the only way I can.”
She moaned as his fire touched her, his heat licked over her skin. Twin flames danced around her

nipples and she came again, her back bowed, her thighs clamping around him.

So beautiful. So his.
She clamped her hands on his thighs and began riding him in earnest, her body slipping and sliding

over his, her thighs bunching and flexing as she took him inside over and over. Dante sent his fire
licking over her pussy, warming her clit as his cock warmed her on the inside.

He’d never tried this before Elizabeth. He’d been too afraid of burning his partner. But somehow

Elizabeth was immune to his flame.

She gasped, coming again, her pussy squeezing him so tightly he groaned.
Perhaps immune wasn’t the right word. She seemed to get off on it, to find unbearable pleasure in

his fire.

So Dante gave it to her, let his flames lick her skin, her hair, her pussy. She cried out, her

movements becoming erratic, the bed frame squeaking with the force of their lovemaking.

He felt the inferno build, the fire within him growing until there was only one way, one resolution.

“Tesoro.”

She stared down at him, her gaze filled with passion. “Tesoro.”
The fire erupted.
Dante filled Elizabeth with his seed, his passion, his fire, until he didn’t know where he ended and

she began. Elizabeth shrieked, her whole body clenching in an orgasm that looked almost painful. He
shuddered, gasping for breath as the ecstasy almost blinded him.

When it was over she collapsed beside him. “Dear mother of God.”
Her voice was shaking, husky from her screams. “Amen.”
She turned to him and laughed, curling up on his good side, wrapping herself around him. “Have I

ever told you you’re hot?”

Their shared laughter filled the empty place that he hadn’t even realized was there.
He loved her, and he from now on he was keeping her.

Chapter Seventeen

The light slanting in through the curtains woke her up long before the alarm did. Turning over, she
studied Dante as he slept. He looked worn—dark circles still under his eyes, his face scrunched up
even in sleep.

When he’d been shot, she’d thought her heart had stopped. It almost had, until she’d heard his

cursing, but it had still taken the trip to the hospital and that sweet kiss to reassure her that he was
okay.

If he had asked the moon of her last night, she’d have given it willingly and never counted the cost.
It scared her, the hold he had on her now. She knew, all too well, what love could do to someone

who wasn’t cautious, who didn’t hold back a piece of themselves from their lover. She’d seen her
parents go from partner to partner, throwing themselves into their new relationships only to find that
what they thought was love was just lust.

But something about Dante, the way he held her and kissed her, told her it was much more than lust.

She felt safe in his bed, sleeping in his arms. She’d opened herself to him completely, and she didn’t
think she’d ever be able to remove him from her heart.

Oh, she was strong enough to walk away if she had to. Watching her parents’ disintegrating

marriages had proven that. She’d leave an integral part of herself behind if she did, one she’d miss
like hell. She’d probably learn to live without it eventually, but what would be the point?

No one wanted to live without their heart, and Dante held hers firmly in his grasp.
He sighed in his sleep, and her attention focused once more on him rather than the misty future. She

carefully lifted the covers, trying to see his arm, but instead she found herself pinned under him. “Um.
Good morning.”

“Was there something you wanted?” He pressed against her with a wicked grin.
“To check your arm.” She’d gotten him a pain pill after she’d gotten her breath back last night, but

it should have worn off by now. He should be achy and sore. “Does your arm hurt?”

“It’s fine.” His voice was muffled against the softness of her breast. Before she could think of a

reply, he took her hungrily into his mouth and began to suckle her. “It’s another part of me entirely that
aches.”

She shifted slightly and felt his erection press into her thigh. “Since you’re not wearing pants, I

won’t ask if that’s a gun in your pocket.”

He nipped playfully at her neck. “Nope. Not a banana either.”
He kissed his way down her body slowly. Tendrils of pleasure raced through her as his mouth

descended on her stomach.

Was he going to do that fire thing again? She shuddered at the thought. She’d never thought she was

so fond of heat until Dante licked her with his flame.

When he winced she stopped him. “No, Dante.”
He whimpered. “Aw, c’mon. I haven’t had breakfast yet.” He leered and licked his lips.
“Remember the rules?” She glared at him. “You’d better follow them, or there will be no nookie.”

She shook her finger at him. “No nookie for you!”

He sighed and rolled over onto his back. “Sit, Dante. Stay. Woof.”
She shook her head at his silliness. Who knew Detective Zucco was such a little boy inside? “If

you’re not up for this we could skip the whole morning sex thing and go for donuts.”

He started whining.
“What, I thought cops like donuts.”
“You suck.”
Aw, look at the puppy eyes. “Not yet I don’t.” She was barely holding back a laugh. Most of the

men she’d dated didn’t know how to have fun in bed, but Dante made everything that much brighter.

“Fine. Here I am, an almost-virgin sacrifice. Do with me what you will.”
He sounded so put-upon. “Like I said, if it’s too much trouble...”
He growled and tugged her down. “Kiss me good morning, damn it.”
Beth did as he asked, careful not to jar his arm. “We need to get you a pain pill.”
His expression was determined. “Priorities, Elizabeth.” He tapped his cock against her thigh.

“Priorities.”

She started to laugh. “You are such a pig.”
He sniffed disdainfully before starting to laugh himself. “Well, one of us has to remember what’s

important.”

She managed to effectively stifle his laughter when she took him into her mouth and began to

slowly, methodically pleasure him. She used her tongue, stroking his shaft, pulling as much of him
into her mouth as she could.

He put his hand in her hair, guiding her movements, groaning when the tip of her tongue caressed

the weeping hole at the tip. “Mmm, yes, Elizabeth.”

She hollowed out her checks, sucking on him as hard as she dared. He hissed, hunching his hips at

her face, slipping his cock further between her lips. She sucked greedily at him, using rapid little
strokes of her tongue, pumping her head faster and faster. His hand clenched in her hair as she brought
him to climax that left him gasping and groaning.

She patted his hip as she released his cock. “Pain pills?”
He moaned a laugh. “You are evil, woman. Pure evil.” But he grimaced as he shifted. “But you’re a

right evil woman.” The puppy eyes made another appearance. “Can I have some donuts?”

She loved this cute side of him. She wondered how many others got to see it, and had the sneaking

suspicion few ever had. “You’re pushing it, copper.”

“And coffee?”
“How about a cafe mocha vodka valium latte?”
“Make it a grande, please.” He yawned. “Oh, and jelly donuts?”
“Guess I’m running out for breakfast.” Beth wasn’t going to complain. She really couldn’t cook.

Even scrambled eggs were beyond her. She ate most of her meals out of a microwave pouch. “I’ll
bring back enough for tomorrow too.”

“Mm.” He was mostly asleep already. “Love you. Be careful.”
Beth froze, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. “Dante?”
His quiet snore was her only answer.
“Damn it, Dante.” She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I love you too.” She dressed quickly

and stole his keys off his dresser. This wasn’t how she’d planned on confessing to him. Maybe next
time she said it he’d be awake for it.

He was still asleep when she returned with the coffee and donuts, so she left his by the bed along

with his pain pills. She wrote a quick note telling him she was headed into the office and her

apartment, adding she’d return with orange juice and milk since he was out. She made sure to lock the
door behind her.

Hopefully he’d sleep most of the afternoon. As much as he thought he was all right, she’d seen how

pale he was after he came. He needed to rest, and it was too tempting to give in to him when she was
lying right beside him.

Beth took less time than she thought at the office. There were a few messages from Mr. Blake—

she’d have to deal with them soon, but first she wanted to sink her hands into the mess Kensington had
made of her apartment. She made one phone call before heading over. “Andi?”

“Hmm?”
“Are you busy right now?”
Beth heard the rustling of papers. “I can free up an hour or two. Why?”
“We, Dante and I, think the killer was after something and trashed my place to get it. I need help on

clean-up, but I also need help looking for anything he might have left behind.”

“I’m on my way. Anything I should bring?”
“Six gallons of Mr. Clean and a bazooka to kill the guy who did this.”
Andi laughed. “Sure thing. See you soon.”
Beth hung up and headed back out to Dante’s car. She headed for her apartment, ready to face the

mess inside.

When she entered the apartment the smell of kerosene and rotting food was so strong she had to

take a quick step back. With her hand over her mouth she ran for the sliding glass doors and threw
them wide, hoping the fresh air would blow some of the stench away.

It had gotten bad much faster than expected.
Turning, she surveyed the mess. There was no way, absolutely no way she could let this mess sit

until Dante was ready to help her. She was doubly glad she’d called Andi.

Sometimes it paid to have friends.
“Mother of God.”
Beth grimaced at the shocked tone. Andi stepped gingerly into her apartment, her high-heeled boots

wobbling as she stepped on a broken bit of end table. “Your friend threw one hell of a party, didn’t
he?”

“The son of a bitch shot Dante.”
Andi almost fell on her ass. “What?”
“Yup. We went to talk to this guy, Robert Kensington. We think he’s blackmailing either Todd

Blessing or was blackmailing Jennifer Blake. We’re not exactly sure.”

“You’ve got Sam looking into it, right?” Andi picked up the table leg and set it gently aside.
“She’s checking everything she can.”
“Are you sure Kensington is your man? Because if he’s not, then whoever did this might come

back.”

“I’m reasonably sure, but...” Beth remembered how Dante told her he wasn’t sure Kensington was

a Shem. “But he might not be.”

“Do you think the bad guy knows Sam is working with you? If so, he might go after her next.”
Beth cursed. “I didn’t think of that. I’d better call her and warn her.”
Surprisingly, Sam picked up on the first ring. “Hello? Beth? What’s wrong?”
“I forgot to tell you yesterday, but my apartment was broken into and trashed.”

“Are you all right?”
Sam sounded breathless with fear. They’d seen each other just yesterday, but Sam was probably in

the zone and wasn’t thinking straight. “It’s okay, Sammie. I’m fine. I wasn’t there when it happened.”

“Oh. Oh, good.” Her relief was obvious. “Do you need anything? Should I come over?”
Beth smiled. As flaky as Sam was, she was loyal to the bone. If Beth asked, Sam would rush over

to help. “Andi’s here helping me clean.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, then.”
“Wait, Sammie. That’s not why I called.”
“Then why did you?”
“Dante and I think they tossed my apartment looking for something on the Blake case, or to warn me

off it.”

Sam sucked in a breath. “And you think they’ll come after me.”
“Yeah. Andi mentioned it. If I’d thought of it I would have warned you yesterday.”
Sam giggled. “I have Precious, remember? Anyone breaking in would have to deal with her.”
Beth didn’t think Sam’s pit bull could stop a Shem. “This guy is serious, Sammie. He might hurt

Precious.” Hell, she doubted Precious would make the guy pause. If Kensington really was a Shem
he’d be far more powerful than a dog, no matter how big.

Besides, Precious was a huge teddy bear. Kensington would just have to bring a bone and she’d let

him steal whatever he wanted. But most people took one look at the dog and assumed she was
vicious, and stayed away from Sam.

It was a shame. Precious was the sweetest dog she’d ever met. She’d seen the dog stare at Sam and

wag her tail until Sam got up and fed her, but she wouldn’t eat until she saw food on Sam’s plate as
well. It was almost as if Sam were the puppy Precious had decided to take care of.

“Listen. Seth and Abby already know what happened, and as preggers as Abby is she’d still try and

come over and help, so don’t call her. And Dante got shot yesterday, so he can’t help either.”

“Man, you’ve had a busy couple of days.” Andi grimaced as she pulled on some thick rubber

gloves.

“Dante got shot?” She could almost picture Sam waving her hands around. “Is he all right? No, of

course he’s not all right. Oh, Beth. I’m so sorry.”

“Calm down, Sam. He’s hurt, but he’s going to be fine. He’s already home, recovering.”
“Is he safe there? You want me to take Precious over? We can watch him until you go back.”
Beth smiled. “Sweetie, keep Precious with you. Dante’s safe, for now anyway.” She blinked.

“Wait. How did you know I was staying with Dante?”

Sam giggled. “I just do. You think the big, bad detective would let you stay anywhere else?

Especially after your apartment got trashed? It was obvious when I saw you guys. Besides, you still
had morning-after Muppet hair, so you didn’t just arrive with a bran muffin and a smile. I’m flaky, but
I’m not blind.”

Beth grunted. Sam had a point.
“All right. What do you want me to do?” She heard the creak of Sam’s office chair.
“Keep Precious close, and if you suspect anything is out of the ordinary you run. Got it? Don’t try

to play hero.” Beth watched as Andi began shoveling rotting food and debris into an industrial
strength trash bag. “If Precious growls, run faster.”

“Tell Dante I said I hope he feels better. As soon as I have some more information I’ll give you a

call.”

“Thanks. Take care, Sammie.”
“You too, Bethie.”
Beth smiled as she hung up the phone. “She’s going to be all right.”
“And if she’s not I’ll take her to Piotr.” Andi paused. “You know she’s trying to get a job there?

That’s where her interviews have been.” Andi smiled. “I think she’s going to get the job too. She’s
got mad skills, and Piotr’s always on the lookout for good hackers. And I put in a good word for her.”

Beth’s brows rose. “Um, Andi?”
“Hmm?”
“Piotr might be a suspect.”
Andi paused, some soggy bagels in her hand. “What?”
“The money that was embezzled from the Blessing campaign came from Piotr. We haven’t been

able to track any other source for the funds, and it was directly removed from his account and
deposited to the campaign bank account.”

Andi laughed. “And you think he’d go after you for that?”
“Well...”
“Trust me. He’d go after the bad guy, not you.”
“But he might come after my computer to find out who I thought the bad guy was.”
Andi shook her head. “Trust me. This—” she waved her hand around “—isn’t his style. He’d hire

someone like Sam to hack your computer. You wouldn’t even know he’d been there.”

“You really trust him that much?”
Andi stared at Beth, a soft expression on her face, and nodded. “With my life. He’s a good man,

even if not everyone can see it.”

She trusted Andi, and her intuition. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Thanks.”
Beth was standing over the ruins of her computer, frowning. Something didn’t seem right.
“Remind me next time you call for a little help to ask what the little help is.” Andi gagged. The

stench was truly horrendous, despite the open doors and windows.

“Would you rather I had called Sam and told her first about yesterday?” Beth glared over her

glasses at Andi.

“I still can’t believe you slept with him.” Andi practically Snoopy danced as she threw away some

old cheeseburgers.

Beth shrugged. Something was wrong about the smashed computer. Something... missing?
Just as she thought she had it figured out, Andi called her. “Beth?”
Turning, she saw Andi carrying a pan gingerly by the handle. “Yeah?”
“Did you burn something recently?” Andi held out the pot.
Beth stared inside at the melted, blackened plastic mess, looked back down at her computer, and

began to swear. “That son of a fucking bitch whore.”

“Um.” Andi began to laugh. “I gather you know what this is?”
“Yeah.” Beth blew out a frustrated breath and took the pan. “My hard drive and backup tapes.”
“Oh.” Andi stared down into the pan. “So your thief stole the data and then made sure you couldn’t

get to it anymore.”

“I had more than the Blake case on those.” And it was information that would take her weeks,

maybe months to replace. “I’m going to kill that fucker.”

“Did you give backups to Sam?” She held up her hands in surrender as Beth snarled. “Sorry, just

asking.”

Beth grumbled. “I’ll make sure she has some from now on.” Her home computer held the truly

sensitive information, the stuff she didn’t feel comfortable leaving at the office. If someone broke in
there, they’d find only what Beth wanted them to.

Someone knew that. Knew that Beth took the important information with her and stored it in her

home.

The question was, who?

Chapter Eighteen

“My hard drives are missing, and the son of a bitch melted my backup tapes.”

He had to hide a smile. She looked extremely grumpy as she threw herself down on the leather sofa

and pulled her boots off.

“Say again?” Dante stood and went to her, sitting on the sofa next to her.
“The son of a bitch stole my hard drives and melted my backup tapes on the stove. Burned my best

pot too.”

“You don’t cook.”
She scowled at him. “I can open a can of soup, and that’s not the point. I had Sam check the

computer out. Whoever took the drives took them out carefully, like they knew what they were doing,
and then smashed the case to make it look like another piece of random vandalism so I wouldn’t look
too closely. Now I know why my place was trashed. They were trying to destroy evidence.” She
stood up and began to pace like a caged tigress.

“They wanted your data on the Blake case wiped out of existence.”
“Which means we were on to something and didn’t even know it.” She tapped out a rhythm on her

thigh. “But what?

“I don’t think it was Kensington. He barely knows how to use a mouse.”
“How do you know that?” Elizabeth stopped and stared down at him.
“Don’t you remember? Candy mentioned it when we interviewed her. She said it drove Blessing

crazy that his head PR man couldn’t function on a computer without someone holding his hand.”

Elizabeth grimaced. “I didn’t really pay attention to much of what she said.”
Dante smiled smugly. “Every little bit of information can prove useful.”
He watched fondly as Elizabeth flopped ungracefully into an armchair. “Okay. So it wasn’t

Kensington in my apartment. Blessing?”

Dante thought about it for a moment, then shook his head slowly. “Not his style. He seems like the

type for direct confrontation.”

“What makes you say that?” Elizabeth asked. He could see the curiosity practically eating her

alive.

“Because he went down to the station and confronted Kensington. Yelled at him in front of the

entire precinct, saying how he’d killed Jennifer, and then tried to take a swing at him. Took two cops
to hold him back.”

Elizabeth whistled. “Wow. Sorry I missed it.”
“Me too. One of my buddies called and told me about it while you were out, knowing I’d been

working the case.”

Elizabeth blew out a frustrated breath. “All right. Not Kensington, not Blessing. Who does that

leave?”

“How’s Blake with computers?”
“He’s a network engineer. He’d know how to steal the hard drives, all right, but I can’t see him

doing it.”

“Why not?”
She looked at him speculatively. “How did you react when you found out that Lillian had been

cheating on you?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I kicked her sorry ass out the door, locked it behind her,

and filed for divorce the very next day.”

“After recovering from the hangover?”
He met her knowing gaze, and shook his head. “Believe it or not—and I can say this now—it was a

relief.”

Elizabeth blinked and grinned wickedly. “Having your wife dancing the mattress mambo with

another man was a relief?”

Dante frowned at her. “No, not that. The divorce. Getting rid of Lillian was the best thing that ever

happened to me. I should have done it sooner, but my Mama taught me not to give up without a fight.
Marriage, even a shaky one, is worth fighting for.”

He was rewarded by her slow smile. “But Lillian turned around and proved that, for her, it

wasn’t.”

“Exactly. And I got rid of her. Oh, I hated Hershman, no mistake about that. The son of a bitch got

me shot—”

“Shot? He got you shot?” Beth hadn’t heard about this.
“It was only a flesh wound.”
Still. Beth had the urge to hunt him down and see how he felt about getting shot.
“He seduced Lillian and humiliated me, but worst of all, the bad guy got away because of him. If I

had my way, he’d rot in hell for a very, very long time.”

“Think of it this way—now he’s married to Lillian.”
He started laughing. “You know what? I never thought of it that way.” And he prayed to God she’d

decide to call off the divorce. Lillian needed to get out his life permanently.

“Good, now you do. Now can you help me with my problem?”
“Okay, okay.” He threw his hand up in a gesture of surrender. “Where were we?”
“Not Kensington, not Blessing. Not Blake. Who does that leave?”
“Oates, Messinger, Cranston, a couple of secretaries.”
“Cranston’s a spaz, Oates is a straight arrow, and Messinger is too old to shimmy down a rope

ladder.” Beth leaned back in her chair. “Romanov.”

Dante frowned. “Romanov? Why Romanov?” Not that it wasn’t a viable theory. Piotr was more

than capable of hiring someone to do his dirty work.

Elizabeth leaned forward and clasped her hands between her knees, frowning in thought. “Just to

play devil’s advocate here, what if Jennifer was the one behind the thefts of the Romanov money?”

“And Kensington mistakenly blackmailed Blessing thinking he’d been the one?” Dante leaned back

and thought about it. “Romanov could hire someone to get to the hard drives, a pro.”

“Make it look like a break in, get the data he thinks I’ve got stored, get his money back. Simple.

Then we go after Kensington, thinking he’s the one, when all along it was Romanov.”

“And he’d know how to make the murder look like a Shem attack.” Except there was no way for a

Nephilim to generate that Shem stink.

Even as he thought that, Elizabeth leaned back, shaking her head. “It’s a long shot. I can see him

doing the break-in, but the murder? Nah. But we need to talk to him so we can officially cross him off
the list.”

“What are you going to tell Blake?”

She shook her head sadly. “I spoke to him on the phone this afternoon. He was not a happy man, but

told me to keep going.”

Dante nodded. “Did you pick up the milk and the juice?”
She laughed, surprised. “Yes.”
He stood and waited patiently for her to get to her feet. “Good.” He kissed her long, and sweet,

feeling better than he had all day now that she was home. As he lifted his head, he frowned down at
her. “Why do you smell like kerosene?”

With a sigh, she hugged him. “Andi helped me clean the apartment today.”
“Didn’t I ask you to wait for me?” He should have known better. Elizabeth wouldn’t wait for him

or anyone if she felt something needed to be done. At least she’d had Andi’s help.

She shrugged, and her next words proved him right. “It needed doing, so I did it.” She lifted her

head and grinned up at him. “What’s for dinner?”

“Pizza.”
“Toppings?”
“Pepperoni and mushrooms.”
“Oh, my favorite!”
He laughed as she skipped her way up the stairs and into the kitchen, lured by the aroma of the

pizza.

“So. Think I can get in to go speak with Piotr again?”
Dante handed her a plate. “I think something can be arranged, but I’m going with you.”
She paused, her pizza halfway to her plate. “Uh. I don’t think so.”
“You aren’t chasing a Shem by yourself.”
She shrugged. “I’ll take Seth.” She pointed toward the sofa. “Your injured ass is staying right here,

where you can heal and not get shot again.”

He sighed. “Going to see Piotr won’t tax me too much.” He pointed to the sling he currently had his

injured arm in. “I’ll wear this, and I’ll take it easy. But I’m going.”

She made a low, angry sound and practically threw the pizza on her plate. “Why do you have to be

so stubborn?”

Because he was the only one he trusted to have her back completely.
That thought startled him. He should be able to trust his brothers, especially Seth and Damien, but

the very idea of sending her out alone with either one of them made him extremely uneasy. He needed
her where he could see her, touch her. He had to be the one who ensured she was safe from the Shem
who’d threatened her.

“I’m going with you to Piotr’s if I have to follow on my bike.” He held out his own plate, smiling

when she placed his pizza down far more gently. She didn’t seem to want to jar his bad arm,
something he appreciated. It was aching, but not nearly as badly as he’d feared it might, so he’d
chosen to ignore the pain and keep a clear head. The pain pills made him too loopy to properly
protect her, so he’d stopped taking them. He’d only taken them yesterday to appease her.

Elizabeth studied him through, her expression turning crafty. “I’ll make you a deal.”
Uh-oh. Dante studied her right back. “Anything that puts your safety in jeopardy is off the table.”
“Fine. Get me in to interrogate Kensington and you can come with me to see Piotr.”
He snarled. “You’re not getting within ten miles of him.”
“Then you’re keeping your injured ass home.”

It was a stand-off, one he knew he’d wind up losing. “Fine. But I’m in the car, waiting for you. If

you’re not back within half an hour, I storm the precinct.”

She grinned. “Deal.”
As he watched her saunter off into the living room, he just knew he was going to regret saying yes.

* * *

It didn’t take long to get in to see Romanov. Dante had called Gabriel after eating the pizza the night
before, and today he and Elizabeth had waltzed into Romanov Enterprises like they owned the place.

“We’re here to see Mr. Romanov.”
“He’s expecting you.” Piotr’s secretary smiled at them sweetly. “Follow me, Detective Zucco, Ms.

Rand.”

Dante gestured for Elizabeth to walk ahead of him.
The secretary opened the door. “Mr. Romanov? Detective Zucco and Miss Rand are here to see

you.”

“Send them in, Stapleton.”
The young man stood aside. “Refreshments, sir?”
“That won’t be necessary. Spasiba.”
“Yes, sir.” The secretary closed the door behind them with a quiet click.
Sitting across the desk from Piotr, Dante tried to picture him hiring a killer. He looked the part. Icy

cold, ruthless and handsome as sin, the man had always made Dante leery. If the circumstances were
right, he could even see Piotr pulling the trigger himself. For him, it would be a calculated risk, one
where the preferable outcome outweighed the risk of discovery.

Elizabeth sat, crossing her legs and pulling out her notebook. She flipped through a few pages

before glancing sharply at Piotr. “I have some questions concerning the money that you contributed to
the Blessing campaign.”

The cold smile that crossed Piotr’s lips had Dante moving closer to Elizabeth. “I thought we had,

what is the phrase, covered this base, Ms. Rand?”

She sighed. “Look, Romanov. Seth, Abby and Andi are my friends, and they trust you.” Gray eyes

met crystal in a clash of wills Dante could almost physically feel. “So I’m giving you the benefit of
the doubt.” She ignored the raised golden brow, refusing to be intimidated. She leaned forward,
uncrossing her legs. “Tell me about the money. You say you didn’t contribute anything, yet the files
are there. Missing, but traceable. Next, I have a blackmail scheme on my hands, involving the death of
a woman. Again, your financial files are the only ones missing. All are recovered, except for the ones
with your name on them. My apartment gets trashed, my hard drives stolen out of my computer, my
laptop stolen and my back-up tapes melted on my stove.” Her gaze never left his, but he reacted to
none of what she was saying. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You think I destroyed your apartment?”
If Dante didn’t know better he’d think there was a hint of hurt in Piotr’s voice.
“I have to cover my bases, and so far you’re a prime suspect.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Look at it from

my point of view. Why would you, or someone else, hide the fact that the funds were missing? Or
were given to the campaign at all? It doesn’t make sense, unless you are the one doing the hiding.”

Piotr sat back and folded his hands. “What would you like me to say?”

“I want you to tell me who hates you enough to steal your money and make it look like you’re a

murderer.”

Dante stared at her, shocked. He hadn’t thought that the true blackmail victim might be Piotr.
Piotr smiled slightly, and for once it reached his eyes. “You are very persistent, Ms. Rand, and

intelligent.” He glanced at Dante, and the smile turned wicked. “I approve.”

Something in Dante warmed at that look, something Dante didn’t want to acknowledge. If he did,

he’d have to admit that most of his problems with Piotr were because he was a Romanov. And that
would mean the man really was his brother after all. “I don’t need your approval.”

The chill returned to Piotr’s features, but for once the coldness didn’t appear unfeeling. Piotr

seemed...lonely. “No. You do not.” He turned his attention once more to Elizabeth, and Dante felt two
inches tall for hurting someone who seemed genuinely pleased on his behalf. “I have no idea who
hates me quite that much, although—” and once again the amusement was a tangible thing, “—I
imagine there are any number of people who would love to see me behind bars.”

“Most enemies want to see their quarry dead. This one wants to see you hurt.” Beth studied his

features. “Could it have something to do with you being Nephilim?”

Piotr’s expression became startled, his gaze darting to Dante. “You told her?”
Dante shrugged. “She figured it out. She already knew about Seth.”
“I see. You’re very observant, Ms. Rand. Perhaps I should hire you to look into the matter for me.”
“Consider it a freebie. Andi’s my friend, and she trusts you implicitly. That’s good enough for me.”
“Spasibo.”
“You’re welcome.” Beth pushed her glasses up her nose. “So. Tell me what’s going on.”
Piotr did. Dante wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t understand. Elizabeth had that effect on people,

and Piotr seemed just as vulnerable as everyone else to her allure. “Money started disappearing out
of my personal account about six months ago. I have as yet been unable to trace the source of the
missing funds. I know through you that they went to the Blessing campaign and then out to the Cayman
Islands—”

“I don’t believe I ever mentioned the Cayman Islands,” Beth interjected, sending Romanov a sharp

glance over her glasses.

He shrugged elegantly. “The money then began moving around a great deal—where to, I am not

entirely certain. Some of that money, I believe, was deposited into the account of one Robert
Kensington, currently under arrest for blackmail, murder and attempted murder of a police officer.”

“And you haven’t been able to trace the rest of it?”
“Whoever did this is extremely good at laundering money. They’ve kept it hopping around the

world, into different accounts with different names. As yet, I am unable to track all of the locations.”

She nodded. “I’ll see what my tracker can do. She’s pretty good.”
She was looking down at her notes, and so missed the triumph that flashed ever so briefly across

his face. But Dante saw it, and was worried for Beth’s friend. As a Cambion, Piotr would find
himself drawn to the dreamy, highly emotional Sam. Dante resolved to keep an eye on the fragile
blonde. “Anything you can add that might help? We’re definitely dealing with at least one Shem.”

Piotr nodded. “Other than I’ve never met Mrs. Blake, Mr. Blessing, or any of the other players in

this little game? I’m afraid not, but I’ll speak with Micah and Zeke. It’s possible they might know
something.”

Micah and Zeke worked with Piotr in much the same way Dante worked with Seth and Damien.

He’d always wondered before how the two men could stand to be around him.

He still wondered, but now it was whether or not he really had misjudged Piotr. Perhaps he wasn’t

as unfeeling as he seemed. Maybe he longed for that brother to brother connection that Dante had
denied him because of his last name.

Shit. Now Dante was going to have to apologize for being a dick.
“This isn’t business. This is personal.” Elizabeth’s words interrupted his train of thought.

“Whoever is doing this feels he or she owes you.”

“Sheer speculation, I am afraid, but quite possibly accurate.” Piotr stood, pressing a button on his

desk and signaling that the interview was over. “If you find anything, anything at all, please notify me
immediately. I’ll take it from there.”

She smiled grimly. “Mr. Romanov, if I find anything I’ll make sure you hear about it.”
She sailed toward the door, Dante hot on her heels.
“Dante?”
Dante turned to find Piotr watching him with an odd expression. “Prebyvaniem bezopasny, moı̆

brat.”

The traditional parting words were spoken softly, almost hesitantly, in Russian, but Dante

understood them. So, for the first time, he gave them back to Piotr without feeling like a liar. “Stay
safe, my brother.”

The lightning-quick smile he received haunted him as he left Piotr’s office. He needed to talk to

Seth. It seemed he’d made a serious mistake with Piotr, but he had no idea how to fix it.

The man needed his brothers in the worst way, and they’d shunned him repeatedly. Dante was

going to fix that, and he knew just who to ask for help.

Dante needed his family. But first? They needed to catch the Shem that seemed to be targeting not

only his lover, but the man he finally acknowledged as his brother.

Chapter Nineteen

She pulled up in front of the precinct, eager to get to Kensington. “You’re sure you cleared this,
right?”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Purvis managed to get us the okay. The cops are hoping you’ll be able to

get something out of him that they couldn’t.”

She nodded. “What if he turns out to be the Shem?”
“If he is, he’s better at hiding it than anyone else I’ve ever met.” He sighed deeply. “It’s possible

he’s working with them, either voluntarily or involuntarily. Find out what you can, but don’t be
surprised if there isn’t much there. He seems...immature.” Dante frowned. “Like—”

“He’s being used.” She had the same gut feeling. “That gun. He said he never kept it loaded.”
“I know.”
“So, the question becomes, who loaded it?”
His gaze was full of fire. “The same person who tried to run you over.”
“Then maybe Kensington can tell me who that is.”
He grabbed her arm before she could climb out of the car. “Be careful. When a Shem is cornered

they become vicious.”

“You said he’s not a Shem.”
Dante’s cheeks flushed. “I did. But if I’m wrong...”
She kissed his cheek. “I’ll be careful, tesoro.” She was close enough that she felt the shudder that

ran through him. “Stay in the car.”

Before he could reply she’d climbed out. She barely heard the string of Italian as she walked up to

the precinct doors. Walking into the warmth of the precinct, she smiled at the officer behind the desk.
“Hey, Koelling.”

The officer, an older, grizzled man she’d dealt with many times before, grinned. “Hey, Rand.” He

stood and waved her over, offering her a hug. The man looked like he’d been dragged facedown over
three miles of bad road, had tattoos that would make a sailor blush, and was a complete squishy bear
on the inside. He scared the crap out of all the juvenile offenders who were brought in, and he was
also the one who volunteered at the youth centers, trying to turn their lives around. “How’s Purvis?
We sent a fruit basket to his house, but I haven’t heard anything other than he’s home and
recuperating.”

“I saw him at the hospital when he went to visit Dante. He’s doing well.”
“You’re here to talk to that scumbag who shot Detective Zucco, right?” Koelling got back behind

the front desk and began typing. “You’ve been cleared thanks to Detective Purvis.”

“Thanks. Has he asked for a lawyer?”
“Yeah, he has, but it’s not gonna do him any good. He shot a cop, he’s gonna do time.” For a split

second Koelling looked just as scary as the kids thought he was. “Zucco’s good people. He doesn’t
deserve getting shot by some asshole who didn’t even know his gun was loaded.”

“Told you that, did he?”
Koelling’s harsh expression relaxed. “It’s the only thing he’s told us. Over, and over, and over.”
She shook her head and laughed. He sounded thoroughly disgusted with Kensington. “Let me go see

what I can get out of him then.”

“Good luck with that.” Koelling waved her through into the precinct.
It didn’t take long for the officers to bring Kensington to an interrogation room. They had him in the

lock-up within the precinct. Apparently he hadn’t been processed into general population yet. She sat
across from him and stared at him in his prison orange jumpsuit. He looked thoroughly miserable, his
pretty face scruffy. “You need to help me,” he whined. “I didn’t mean to shoot that detective, I swear
it!”

She smiled, and had the gratification of seeing him shiver. “Tell me about it.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay. My lawyer told me not to talk, but I figure I wanna cut a deal or

something, I gotta talk, right?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m not a cop, so I’m not bound by the same rules. You understand that?”
He nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, but you’re banging a cop. I figure you can put in a good

word for me.”

Was it that obvious that she was together with Dante? “How do you know I’m seeing Detective

Zucco?”

He rolled his bloodshot eyes. “Please. The way you two look at each other? A blind man could see

it.” He took a deep breath and began speaking. “I saw them, Todd and Jennifer, together. They were
in her office, and it looked like, well, you know. Anyway, there they were, going at it right on her
desk. And I thought, hey, golden opportunity, make some cash, split for the hills after I have a couple
grand in the bank.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t gonna hose them for more than that, you know? Todd’s
never going to get elected, and even if he does he’ll hire all new staff. We’re all going to be out on
our asses.”

“Why do you say that?”
He scrubbed his face. “Jennifer hated almost everyone in the office. Cranston and I overheard her

telling Todd to fire us all and start fresh, that we were going to wind up bringing the campaign down.
She especially hated Candy and Oates.”

“Oates?”
“Yeah. She said he was too interested in the money, despite being Todd’s accountant.” He laughed

bitterly. “How can your accountant be too interested in where the money is going? That’s his job.” He
paused, apparently to gather his thoughts. “Anyway, I had Blessing pay me. Not much, just a couple
grand, then a couple more. Figured I’d stop when I hit twenty in the bank, take a little vacation, then
find work somewhere out in California. Nice and sunny there, you know? Anyway, Jennifer up and
gets killed, so I lay off the blackmail. Figured it would do more harm than good to have him keep
paying me like that. I didn’t want someone to think I’d killed her. Then, the freakiest thing happened.”

“Twenty grand was mysteriously deposited to your account.”
He looked surprised. “How’d you know?”
She smiled grimly. “Lucky guess. What did you do?”
“I was getting ready to head for the hills when you and that detective showed up. Figured I’d better

get the hell out of Dodge before you decided to either pin the murder on me or Blessing. Either way,
I’d wind up doing jail time.” He sighed roughly. “I didn’t do it, Ms. Rand. I didn’t kill Jennifer. You
gotta believe me.”

She did, but she wasn’t certain the cops weren’t going to nail the murder on him anyway. It wasn’t

like Dante could walk up to them and tell them that a Shem had been the murderer. But she couldn’t
leave this guy twisting in the wind, either. He’d still do time, but she wanted him to do it for the

crimes he’d actually committed. “I do, actually.”

“You do?” He looked surprised, and hopeful. He leaned forward, but didn’t touch her. “Listen, I

didn’t mean to hurt that cop. Like I said, I always kept that gun unloaded.”

“Can you think of anyone in the office who would have it in for either Blessing or Romanov?”
Kensington turned white as a ghost. “Romanov?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, Romanov. Anyone come to mind, Kensington?”
He shook his head slowly. “No one I can think of would deliberately mess with Mr. Romanov.

That is one scary-ass dude. Why?”

“Anyone in the office ever mention his name?”
He shrugged, still shaken. “Cranston, once, but that was in connection with a campaign contribution

he’d made. Cranston seemed confused about it, because there wasn’t a file on it.”

Beth frowned thoughtfully. “That’s odd. He told us that Romanov had never made a contribution.”

Cranston had lied to her. She needed to dig deeper into his past.

Kensington laughed. “Maybe he lied to you because he’s terrified of Romanov, just like the rest of

the sane world.”

Beth looked at Kensington mildly. “You know, Romanov’s really not that bad.”
“Neither is a grizzly until you piss it off.” Kensington began making ripping motions with his hands.

“Then it tears you into very tiny little pieces and devours what’s left.”

Beth stood, closing her notebook. “Thanks, Kensington. Can’t say I’m happy with you—” she

frowned over her glasses at him, “—but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I didn’t murder Jen.”
“I know.”
“How?”
She glanced toward the two-way mirror, aware they were being recorded. “Because you’re not a

grizzly.” She ignored his thanks as she walked out of the precinct.

Why had Cranston lied about the money? It was time to go talk to him and see what was what.
“Well?” Dante’s impatience had him practically vibrating in his seat.
“Cranston lied to us.”
His brows rose. “Figlio di puttana.”
“You think he’s the Shem?”
Dante took a deep breath. “There’s no way—unless he’s a Chameleon like Diana—that he could

hide from me.”

Beth’s mind was running a mile a minute. “Camouflage.”
“What?”
She waved her hand impatiently. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with poo gas, remember? Is it

possible a Shem can use the stench to camouflage their presence?”

Dante paled. “I hope not, or the Neph are in deep shit. We rely on that stench to hunt. If they’ve

found a way to use it to their advantage...” Dante shuddered.

She pulled away from the precinct. “Call whoever you need to. I’m going to drop you off at home

and go speak to Cranston.”

“The hell you are.” He managed to get his phone out of his pocket and up to his ear. “Call

Gabriel.” He punched a button on the phone and she could hear it ringing. He’d set it on speaker for
her.

“Dante—”
“Stai zitto! You are not facing a Shem alone, and that’s that.” He turned his attention back to the

phone when a voice came over the speaker.

“Good morning, Dante.”
“Good morning, Gabriel.” Dante’s tone was growly.
“What seems to be the problem?” The voice of the man who ran the Nephilim was deep and

smooth, soothing to the ear. His tone was serene, as if he’d been expecting Dante’s call.

“I’ve been shot.”
Silence. “A Shem?”
“No. A human, but one that may have given us a lead on the Shem that killed Jennifer Blake.” Beth

remained silent as Dante filled Gabriel in. “Elizabeth managed to question the man who shot me,
Robert Kensington. It seems one of Todd Blessing’s accountants may have been responsible for her
death. Cranston lied to us about contributions Piotr made to the Blessing gubernatorial campaign.”

“What about the miasma? Was it present around Cranston?”
“The whole office reeked.”
“Ah.” Gabriel didn’t sound surprised. “He hid himself in plain sight.”
Beth and Dante shared a confused look. “How so?”
“Is that Elizabeth?” Gabriel sounded delighted to hear her voice. “You’ll have to bring her to meet

me.”

“I will. I look forward to introducing you to her.” Dante smiled fondly at her. “But what did you

mean about hiding in plain sight?”

“I think the Shem decided that if he couldn’t hide the miasma from us, he’d make sure the entire

office was saturated in it.”

“Like a fog, so we couldn’t see who was giving off the stench?”
“Yes, Elizabeth. Exactly like that.”
Beth smiled. “Call me Beth.”
“Thank you, Beth.” The warmth of Gabriel’s tone seeped through her. It was different from Dante’s

warmth, more comforting and far from sensual. Dante’s inner fire threatened to burn her with his
passion, but Gabriel’s quiet warmth was like roasting marshmallows in the backyard as a kid. She’d
sit in front of the fire pit, holding white pillows of yummy goodness out on a stick, soaking up the
warmth of the banked coals while dreaming of a Halloween costume she’d probably never get.

“So you’re basically saying he hosed down the entire place so we wouldn’t be able to detect which

of the office workers was him?”

Dante choked on a laugh.
“Hosed?” Gabriel sounded amused. “I guess that would be an appropriate way to phrase it, yes.”
“How is that even possible?” Dante was obviously confused.
Beth was too. “It’s never happened before?”
Dante shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“It has.” Gabriel’s tone was confident. “It’s a tactic that’s more frequently used when a Shem hunts

in an area surrounded by Neph, like in a city. Most times that Shem runs before the Neph can
accurately pinpoint which of the people he’s investigating is the target.”

That made a certain kind of sick sense. “Like a skunk that’s been startled.”
“Exactly.” Gabriel sounded pleased with her. “So this Shem should be running soon.”

“We can’t let him do that.” Beth would hunt him down herself if she had to.
“No, Beth. We won’t let him get away.” Gabriel’s tone was gentle. “Dante. I’m calling in Seth and

Damien. Meet them at your house. I want the three of you to confront—”

“No.” Oh, fuck no. “Dante’s injured. Get someone else.” She wasn’t budging on this one.
“Of course, Dante won’t be hunting the Shem. But Damien and Seth are his partners, and will need

at least his information.”

“If I have to, I’ll take Dante’s place.” The thought frightened her, but she’d have Seth, who was

practically Superman, and Damien. She’d be almost as safe as if Dante were there.

“No. If need be, I’ll accompany Damien and Seth. You stay by Dante and protect him until he’s

healed.” The stern command in Gabriel’s voice was hard to ignore.

Dante’s relief at Gabriel’s order was written all over his face, so she couldn’t bring herself to

argue with Gabriel. “Yes, sir.”

Dante grinned. “I’ll keep an eye on Elizabeth as well.”
“I’m sure you will.” Gabriel’s tone was back to that gentle warmth. “Seth and Damien should be at

your place soon. Tell them everything, and we’ll see what we can do about hunting down your Shem.”

“What about the Shem Angelus that threatened Elizabeth? Do you think he’s tied in with Cranston?”
“No way to tell, but if you’re right and the Shem are starting to work together we’ll need to keep a

watch on all the mates.”

Dante’s head tilted. “All of them? Does that mean...”
“The others will find their futures soon, yes. And the Angelus’s threat may be to all of them.”
“Damn.” Dante started to laugh. “I don’t know who I want to see fall first, Damien or Piotr.”
“When the time comes, your brothers will need all of us. Especially Piotr.”
Dante’s laughter died. “You’re serious? Their women are in danger?”
“Yes. Piotr’s most of all.”
Dante muttered viciously in Italian. “Then I’ll be there for him.”
Beth smiled.
“For now, keep Beth close.”
“Hey! I can take care of myself, you know.”
Gabriel laughed, and it was as if the sun had come out from behind thick clouds. “And you keep

Dante close as well. Dante? Stay safe, my brother.”

Dante grunted. “Stay safe, my brother.” He hung up, wincing as he put the phone back in his coat

pocket. “Let’s get something to eat. If I know Gabriel, Damien and Seth will be there as soon as work
lets out.”

Beth nodded and began the drive back toward Dante’s. “Want to pick up some take-out?”
“Nah. Let’s hit the diner.” He shifted in his seat. “Beth?”
“Yeah?”
The look he shot her was full of concern. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
She shot him a startled glance. “That can’t be good.”
“No.” He sighed deeply and took hold of her hand with his good one. “It’s not.”
Before long they were seated at a booth in the local diner. Elizabeth picked up her menu as Dante

sat across from her in the booth. At this early hour, the place was fairly quiet. “I know Gabriel told us
to stay behind, but I want to hear Cranston’s explanation on the whole Romanov file.”

“Damn it, I knew you were going to say that.” Dante sighed. “Okay. But not without one of my

brothers going with you.”

She smiled sourly. “Yes, Mom.” She looked up at the waitress as she returned to their table. This

one, at least, had never dated Dante. “Cheeseburger, Coke, fries, same as always. How are the kids,
Dinah?”

Dinah grinned. “They’re little demons. Too smart for their own good too.” She turned to Dante.

“Cheeseburger, fries and Coke, right, Detective?”

“Got it in one. How’s Harry?”
“Still sick, but recovering. Wishing he was back on active duty, but you know how cops are.”

Dinah shrugged. “As soon as he’s over the flu, he’ll be back to work and out of my hair.” She winked
at them, then turned away and headed for the counter to place their orders.

“Dinah and Harry are good people.”
Beth grinned at him. “Yes, they are.”
He took hold of her hand again. Ever since they’d spoken with Gabriel, it was like he needed to

touch her, make sure she was with him and, therefore, safe. “Mind if I join you when you talk to
Cranston?” When she frowned and opened her mouth to once again tell him hell no, he held up a hand
to stop her. “You can keep an eye on me and make sure I’m taking it easy if I’m with you.”

“And if it comes down to a fight?”
His gaze burned briefly with his inner fire. “Then I fight.”
She sat back in her chair. “I can hold off on this until Seth or Damien can join me.”
His grimace of distaste had her frowning. “No.”
“Don’t you trust them?”
Dante looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s not that.”
The way he clung to her hand, how he refused to let go even when she tugged, was telling. “I’ll

make sure I’m not alone when I speak to him.”

“That’s not the point.” His damaged arm jerked, and he grimaced in pain. “I want... No. I need to

be the one with you. If anything happened to you...”

His voice trailed off, but she heard the pain, the loneliness. “Then I wait for you.”
The smile he gave her was sweet. “Thank you.”
She snorted out a laugh. “You just want in on the interview, Detective Zucco.”
“Got it in one, Rand.” His smile faded away. “I want to know why he didn’t think it necessary to

fill us in on the Romanov file. If he’s not the one we’re looking for, why did he lie about it?”

“He could be a puppet, like Kensington.”
“He could be. We won’t know until we get him out of the office and question him.”
“Will you be able to tell once he’s out of that office?”
“Yeah. He won’t be able to hide then, not from me and certainly not from Damien.”
“Good.”
Dante nodded his thanks as Dinah placed two Cokes down on the table and moved off. “So. Would

you want to make living with me official?”

She choked on the sip she’d just taken. He let go of her hand long enough to pound her between the

shoulder blades.

“What?” She was stunned. How long had he been thinking about this?
“I want to know if you’ll give up your apartment and move in with me full time.”
She stared at him as if he’d just grown a second head. Live with him? On a full-time basis? “I’d

have to think about it.”

She watched as his big hand curled around his glass. “There’s nothing to think about, as far as I’m

concerned. I want you to live with me.”

He was serious, and she couldn’t just dismiss what he’d said. She had to admit, the thought was

tempting, but she needed some time to think about whether or not they were ready for such a serious
step so soon. They both deserved to have her be certain that this was what she wanted. “I tell you
what. Let me think about it, and I’ll give you an answer tonight.” She pointed at him. “But if I say yes,
I get to decorate your beige boredom of a living and dining room. Capisce?”

His nod, when it finally came, was slow. He was disappointed, but accepted her decision.

“Capisce.”

They ate their hamburgers in an uneasy silence. She didn’t know what was going through his head,

but she knew what was going through hers.

Disappointment. She was surprisingly disappointed that he’d only asked her to live with him. But

what more could she expect? They hadn’t been lovers for all that long, and in the grand scheme of
things, if you counted the time when they’d hated each other, they’d known each other less than a year.

And, she decided, it showed that he wanted some kind of a commitment from her. It would mean

that they were more than just exclusive.

They’d be a couple in every sense of the word.
Of course, a living arrangement could be dismissed much easier than a marriage. All she had to do

was move out. End of relationship. Game over. End score: Dante one, Beth zero. It would shred her if
she lost Dante, but if she didn’t take the chance she might lose him anyway, before she’d really had
him.

She’d definitely have to think about it.

Chapter Twenty

It was obvious she was still thinking about it when they pulled up outside of Blessing headquarters
half an hour later. Her pensive expression hadn’t changed since he’d first asked her to move in with
him. He was hoping she’d give him a positive answer that night, but he was frightened that maybe
he’d pushed too soon. Now he ran the risk that she’d turn him down, and he’d be left out in the cold.

The sky was darkening, the wind blowing as they got out of the car. The snowstorm that the

weathermen were calling for was about to hit. He could smell the snow in the air.

Shivering, Elizabeth hugged herself, breathing hard on her hands and rubbing them together to

generate warmth. Dante wanted to warm them, but surrounded by the coming and going of the people
around them he didn’t dare unleash his flame. Instead, he ushered her into the Blessing office as
quickly as he could, considering his lack of an arm.

He looked around the office and wasn’t surprised to see it shutting down for the day. Blessing was

running back and forth, telling people to go home, urging people to put their coats on, and reminding
one elderly volunteer that she had a ride if she needed one.

He watched Blessing move around the office, strong and charismatic, and understood what Jennifer

Blake had seen in him.

He was strong, a natural leader. Others gravitated to him, around him, drawn to his innate

charisma. The man seemed to care about all of his office workers, and Dante couldn’t see any sign
that Blessing’s attitude was all an act.

Elizabeth strode right toward Blessing. Dante had the pleasure of seeing his faint grimace before he

smiled. Good. He didn’t like anyone who thought it was all right to cheat on their spouses.

“Mr. Blessing. Is Mr. Cranston still here?” She kept her tone pleasant, a smile on her face.
“Yes, he’s still here, but I believe he’s going to be leaving soon. He’s from Florida and finds the

snow storm frightening.” He sounded confused over the question, as if he’d been expecting something
else. Perhaps a confrontation on his cheating ways?

One thing was for certain, a man who could cheat on his spouse, with his friend’s wife no less,

would have no problems cheating his constituents. He was definitely not getting Dante’s vote, that
was for sure.

“Cranston finds the thought of sharpening a pencil frightening.” With a brisk nod, she moved past

him and into the accounting offices.

Cranston was there, scurrying around like a rat, muttering to himself under his breath as he tried

valiantly to gather together all of his belongings. Dante watched him for a moment, trying to see the
miasma that should have been there. But the Shem stench was so thick he couldn’t see whether or not
Elizabeth was human, let alone Cranston.

Gabriel was right. Whoever it was, the Shem was clever to hide this way.
Cranston darted to his briefcase, hesitated, muttered again and turned toward the coffee maker. He

paused, his lip caught between his teeth, then headed for Oates’s office. Cranston stopped just outside
the door, returning once more to his desk.

“Mr. Cranston?” Dante’s voice boomed through the mostly empty office.
Cranston jumped. “Oh. Detective Zucco, isn’t it? And Ms. Rand.” He glanced down at his desk

with dismay. “Did we have an appointment this afternoon?”

Elizabeth nodded and stepped into the room, Dante right on her heels. “If you have a few moments

to talk to us, we’ll get out of your hair as quickly as possible.”

With a nervous twitch, Cranston sat behind his desk, knocking his desk calendar to the floor in the

process. He jumped again at the sound of Beth’s cell phone ringing.

Something was making Cranston extremely nervous, and Dante doubted it was the snow storm.
“Give me a moment, please?”
“Of course, Ms. Rand.” Cranston’s sickly smile seemed out of place with Elizabeth’s professional

tone.

Elizabeth waved Dante on, moving back to the main office doorway to take the phone call. Dante

followed, refusing to leave her. He glanced around to make sure no one could overhear their
conversation as Elizabeth answered the phone and put it on speaker. “Hello?”

It was Sam. “Guess what?”
“My stock portfolio has decided to go up instead of down?” Elizabeth quipped.
“I decided to do a cross-reference of people who’ve worked with the Blessing campaign, had

access to funds and had something to do with Romanov, seeing as how it was his money that was
stolen, and guess what I found?” Sam sounded giddy. Dante could picture her literally dancing in her
chair. It seemed like something the bubbly Sam would do.

“Alien forces have taken over Romanov’s brain and he’s the one behind the plot. Or, rather, the

aliens are.” Elizabeth winked at Dante.

“I didn’t think of that angle. If Romanov were brainwashed... But it takes time to be

brainwashed...and from what I’ve heard, he’s got a pretty strong will...”

Beth grimaced. “Sam.” The indulgent impatience in Beth’s voice told Dante this wasn’t the first

time Sam had gone off on a tangent while working with Beth.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Sam giggled. “Um, I’d ask you to guess what I found, but I already did that,

didn’t I?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, Sam, you did.”
“Okay.” Dante heard Sam take a deep breath.
“Who, Sam? Who is it?”
“Bryan Cranston.”
Dante grinned. Cranston had left a paper trail after all. If he’d planned on hauling him before human

authorities he’d have enough for a search warrant, and possibly an arrest warrant. Everything was
pointing to Cranston being their man. “Damn.”

Elizabeth nodded toward Dante. We got him, she mouthed.
Sam continued. “He worked for Romanov Enterprises and left under less-than-auspicious

circumstances. I don’t know all of the details, but it had something to do with missing funds.”

“Tell me what you’ve got.”
“It seems as if he might have been involved with money laundering, but no charges were ever filed.

Just a note of investigation from Romanov himself.”

Elizabeth pushed her glasses up her nose. “Damn it, I asked Piotr if he knew anyone who worked

for the Blessing campaign.”

“He may not have known. After all, Cranston isn’t the head accountant or anything like that. He’s

just a regular Joe working under Sylvester Oates.”

Dante was absolutely positive Romanov had known. “Tell us the rest.”

“Hi, Dante.”
Dante smiled. Sam actually sounded happy to speak to him. “Hello, Sam.”
“Okay, so. He’s had a lot of activity on his computer, and I’ve been able to trace some of his

activities. Guys, a lot of them coincide with the movement of the stolen funds.”

Dante frowned. “How did you track his online movements?”
Sam’s voice was small, uncertain. “If I tell you, can you be prosecuted too?”
Dante winced. “Okay. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” So much for a search warrant. Good

thing he was almost positive Cranston was the Shem. He’d take the bastard down the Nephilim way.

“Thanks.” The relief in Sam’s voice made him chuckle.
“You’re welcome.”
“I gotta go. I have a job interview this afternoon.”
“I thought you were going to continue doing freelance work.” Elizabeth sounded surprised.
“This promises to be...interesting.” With a soft goodbye, Sam hung up.
Elizabeth holstered her cell phone. “I hope she’s not getting into trouble.”
“Does she get into trouble often?”
Elizabeth snickered. “You have no idea.”
“Want me to ask Damien to keep an eye on her?”
She glanced up at him with a smirk. “Why, what a clever idea, Detective Zucco.”
“I have them occasionally.”
“Just tell him she’s probably going to get a job with Romanov Enterprises.” At his shocked look,

she laughed. “Andi put in a good word for her.”

“Shit. He’s going to go ballistic.”
“Good. That’s what he gets for firing her without real proof.”
Dante’s grin was wicked. “Agreed.”
They reentered the office to find Cranston reaching for an oversized white parka. He slid it on and

zipped it up. Reaching for his briefcase, he said, “I’m sorry, I really must be going now. There’s a
storm coming in.” He shivered and smiled weakly. “I’ve stayed too long as it is.”

For a second, Dante could see Jennifer Blake’s death scene. The huge white parka Elizabeth said

she saw on the person running away from the body, the blood on the snow and the briefcase lying
open next to the body. He stared at Cranston, noticing that the oversized parka made him look twice
as bulky.

Elizabeth reached out and grabbed Dante’s hand tightly. Tugging on him, she pulled him after her,

following Cranston out onto the street. With the light snow falling, the street had taken on a glow, soft
and gentle.

Cranston had carried the miasma out of the office with him. He was the Shem they’d been hunting,

but with so many people around them Dante couldn’t act on the knowledge. Cranston shivered as he
pulled the hood up on his parka. “Well, I must be going. Have an enjoyable evening.”

Elizabeth, who couldn’t see the miasma, was studying Cranston with an odd expression. “Mr.

Cranston? I don’t believe I’ve seen you wear that parka before.”

Shit. She would ask him about that.
With luck, Cranston would walk away. If the Shem attacked now Dante would be forced to defend

Elizabeth, no matter how many humans were bustling about. And now that Cranston was out of the
office, the stench still clung to him, marking him as the skunk who’d panicked and stunk up the rooms.

Cranston hesitated a moment before moving forward toward the parking lot. “Yes, I just recently

purchased it. I’m not all that fond of the snow, you know.”

She smiled, a cold one that sent shivers down Dante’s spine. “Have a good night, Mr. Cranston.”
He nodded, an odd little half bow with his head alone. “Good night, Ms. Rand. Detective Zucco.”

He turned and walked briskly through the parking lot. He got into his green Ford, started the engine
and drove slowly out of the parking lot, obviously conscious of the light dusting of snow already on
the ground.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Dante asked, staring down at her.
“Nope,” she replied, grinning savagely. “He’s the one.”
“I know that.” He walked her briskly toward their car. He didn’t like this one little bit. Cranston’s

expression had turned far too calm before he left. The man’s nervous energy had disappeared.

“What I want to know is how he hid what he was from Piotr.” Dante slid into the passenger seat,

waiting calmly for Elizabeth to climb behind the wheel. On the inside, his fire burned, ready to do
battle to protect Elizabeth from Cranston.

The man knew. He had to. Simply allowing them to see him outside the office had sealed his fate.

He was either going to fight, or flee.

Dante planned on forcing him to fight.
“Yet another thing to ask Piotr about.”
“I’ll have to get the others together to search for him. He’s going to run.”
“He had that look about him, yeah.”
“Seth and Damien should be at my place by now.” They’d help him hunt Cranston down, leaving

Elizabeth safe and sound at home.

“Maybe we should call in Piotr as well. This affects him more than anyone.”
He stared at her for a moment before nodding. “You’re right.” He pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Romanov Enterprises. How may I help you?”
“Mr. Romanov, please. Tell him it’s Dante Zucco.”
“One moment, please.”
Most of the drive home he spent on hold, but soon enough Piotr answered. “Zdravstvuy, moı̆ brat.”
“Um. Hello.” Dante sighed. “Elizabeth suggested we should call you. It looks like the Shem is an

ex-employee of Romanov Enterprises.”

Silence, then the car filled with the sound of rapid Russian obscenities. “Where is he?”
Dante was surprised at the vicious rage in Piotr’s voice. “Do you want to know who?”
“Da.”
“Bryan Cranston.”
The rapid intake of breath sounded surprised. “Andrea had been investigating him for

embezzlement, but couldn’t find anything on him. I was about to step in personally when the head of
his department fired him.”

“You didn’t know?”
“That I had a Shem working for me? No.” Piotr sighed. “My company is very large, and spread

over several states. He did not work in my office, or I would have detected his presence.”

Elizabeth nudged him. “Didn’t Blessing say Cranston was used to a warmer climate?”
“Shit.” That explained how Piotr hadn’t known. For the most part, he ran his business out of

Wilmington and Dover, but he’d jet to his other locations frequently. “He stole the money from the

Blessing campaign.”

“How did you find out?”
Dante could hear Piotr moving around, possibly preparing to leave his office. “Sa... Elizabeth’s

friend got the information for us.”

“Ah.” Dante clearly heard a door closing. “I’m on my way, moı̆ brat. Keep your woman safe.”
For the first time, Dante offered Piotr the traditional parting words with no reluctance whatsoever.

“Stay safe, my brother.”

“Prebyvaniem bezopasny, moı̆ brat.”
Elizabeth pulled into his driveway and they got out of the car. “Do you think the three of them can

find Cranston?”

Dante stared at the front porch of his home, his heart in his throat. He couldn’t be seeing this,

couldn’t be feeling the terror that raced through him.

But that fall of dark hair against the white snow didn’t disappear, no matter how he wished

otherwise.

Dante took a deep, cleansing breath and tried to push back the fear. “I don’t think they’ll have a

problem at all.”

Cranston, his white parka zipped against the snow and wind, stood there. He held a silenced gun in

his hand. Dante’s mother lay at his feet, unconscious. Dante couldn’t tell if the Shem had killed her or
not, but Dante couldn’t see any blood spotting the pristine white parka Cranston wore.

Cranston sighed. “I’m sorry, Detective. I truly am. But I knew you wouldn’t let me go without a

fight.” The sorrow in Cranston’s voice was audible. “I wish it didn’t have to come to this. I had no
desire to tangle with you. I just want to leave.”

“Let my mother go.” Dante allowed his inner fire to coat his hands.
Cranston shook his head. “I can’t do that. She was here when I got here, and she knew instantly

what I am. Now I have to kill her too.”

Dante started to move, only to stop at the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. “Don’t do it,

Cranston.”

With a shrug Cranston replied, “In for a penny.”
Dante thought his heart would stop beating then and there when he heard the gunshot. His first wild

thought was, What do I tell Dad?

His second thought was to remember the silencer.
The third, that Elizabeth had probably been the one to fire.
Cranston stumbled back with a cry as red dusted fluff burst from the arm of his jacket. Elizabeth

had hit her target, but hadn’t taken him down.

Dante dove for Cranston, determined to get him away from his unconscious mother.
Cranston leapt over the railing and onto the grass at the edge of the house, running as if his life

depended on it. Which it did. Dante was going to fry him for laying a hand on his mother.

“Cranston!”
Where the fuck were Damien and Seth? They should have been here by now, should have had his

back. His breath misted in the cold evening air as he chased Cranston through one front yard after
another. He spared a brief thought for Elizabeth and his mother, and hoped they were both in the
house, safe and sound. He trusted Elizabeth to take care of his mom. She’d stay by the fallen woman’s
side, protecting her as best she could.

He could feel his breath rasping in his throat now, his heart pounding in his ears as he ran and ran.

Still Cranston didn’t stop, leaping at one point over a tricycle one of Dante’s neighbors had left out of
their garage. Cranston never looked back, never stopped to check where Dante was. He just kept
moving. The white parka made it easy for Dante to follow Cranston.

When Cranston headed into the small copse of trees behind one of the houses, Dante followed the

flashes of white. Finally away from humans, the Shem turned on Dante, showing his true colors.

The Shem had once been partly human, like Dante and his brothers. But the Shemyaza chose a

different path in life, turning their backs on their heritage and clinging to Shemhazai’s teachings
instead. Their monstrous appetites were reflected in their appearances, turning them into monsters.

Like Dante and all of the Nephilim, Shemyaza could disguise themselves, hide their inhuman sides

behind a human facade. But unlike Dante, when that disguise was dropped, what the Neph were faced
with was a horror out of a human being’s worst imaginings.

Ooze dripped from Cranston’s black lips, the same green miasma that filled the Shem’s aura. His

skin was blotched, bruised and diseased. His hands were tipped with black, jagged claws that Dante
knew from experience were far sharper and stronger than they appeared. Rotted, fanged teeth filled
his mouth to overflowing, stretching his jaw obscenely. And unlike Diana, who’d fed off of fear until
the soul was gone, this Shem fed off the flesh of its victims, absorbing the soul through the victim’s
physical pain.

“It’s over, Cranston.” Dante’s flame erupted, turning him into a being of living fire.
“I don’t think so, Nephilim.” Cranston dropped into a combat crouch, surprising Dante. He didn’t

think Cranston had it in him. “I tried to leave. I would have gone away, and you never would have
seen me again.”

Dante’s gaze narrowed, sharpened on the creature he intended to kill. “You hurt my mother and

tried to kill Elizabeth.”

The Shem looked confused. “I didn’t try to kill Ms. Rand.” Then it grinned. “Although she would

have been tasty.” He shook his head. “But I’d be crazy to target the mate of a Nephilim.”

“But not too crazy to target my mother.” And for that, the fucker would burn.
Cranston shrugged. “She’s Nephilim. She knows the risks she takes when she hunts us.”
Dante gestured with his hands and flames engulfed the Shem.
He screamed, dropping the now white-hot gun, his lips pulled back in an inhuman snarl of rage.

“You’ll pay for that, Neph. Your precious Elizabeth will taste so sweet when I take her.”

Dante grinned viciously. “Bring it, Shem.”
The Shem’s claws lashed out, but Dante danced out of the way. He returned the favor, scoring a hit

on the Shem’s parka.

The Shem shrieked as the parka caught on fire, tearing it off before Dante’s fire could touch his

skin. “Damn it. I liked that jacket.” The Shem shivered violently. “That’s one more I owe you.” The
Shem, a monster in black slacks and a green sweater vest, swiped at him again. This time its claws hit
the mark, and dark fire raced along Dante’s already injured arm. The Shem’s claws broke the straps
of the sling and his arm dropped hard.

Dante saw stars as agony ripped through him. “Figlio di puttana bastardo!”
Blue light shone down on them, and suddenly Seth was there, his blade drawn, standing between

Dante and the Shem. “Sorry I’m late.”

Dante gritted his teeth. “Elizabeth?”

“Safe. Damien’s with her.”
Fear Dante hadn’t even realized he felt dissipated at Seth’s words. “Good.”
The Shem held up his hands. “I have no desire to fight you too, Neph.”
Seth grinned. “Too bad, Shem, because you need to die for your crimes.”
“I see.” The Shem sighed. “A man has to eat, you know.”
“No. I don’t.” And Seth attacked with all the viciousness of a man whose mate had almost been

killed by a Shemyaza. His blade flashed as he dueled with the Shem, drawing blood as he scored a hit
on the Shem’s stomach.

Dante joined the fight, trying to ignore the throbbing hell his arm had become. Damn it, he’d need to

take one of those damn pain pills once he got home. Using his good hand, he flung fireball after
fireball at the Shemyaza, trying to trace where he would dodge away from Seth’s blade. It was a
delicate dance the two men had perfected over time, Seth’s blade moving in such a way as to force
the Shem into the path of Dante’s fire.

The Shem’s claws grew to six inches long and gleamed in Seth’s light. Seth cried out as the Shem

scored a hit on his wings, staggering back as the appendages of light proved they were vulnerable to
attack. Seth bled from the wound, real blood that would prove fatal to the Angelus should they not get
it under control.

Dante did something he’d never tried before, determined to get the Shem off his brother. He pulled

at the fire within him, calling it with everything he had. He dug deeper than he ever had before,
pulling energy until nothing was left but Dante and all-consuming heat. His flame grew and grew,
blazing against his senses until he was blind to everything but the heat and the light.

Dante carefully released that flame, that blazing fire, and opened his eyes.
Seth was staring at him in awe. “Holy shit.”
The Shem was backing away, his expression horrified.
Dante grinned. Anything that horrified a Shemyaza was good enough for him.
Seth whistled softly. “Dude. You have wings.”
Dante paused in the act of chasing down the Shem. “What?”
“Wings, Dante. Made of pure fire.”
Something bright and red and hotter than hot fluttered past his shoulder. Seth was right. It was a

wing. “Whoa.”

“That’s not possible.”
Dante shrugged. Apparently, it was.
The Shem darted off into the darkness, and Dante took off after him. He wasn’t going to risk flight,

but the wings seemed to give him speed as they fluttered at his back. He wasn’t sure, but at one point
he thought he did leave the ground.

He managed to catch the Shem before it could break through the trees. “It’s over, Shem.”
The Shem turned, despair and anger fighting across his face. “You’ll never take us all, Neph. We

know who you are now.”

“That remains to be seen.” And Dante raised his arms, his fire swirling around him in a deadly

dance, lifting the hair off his neck in a rush of super-heated air. Immune to his own fire, Dante
laughed, the sheer joy of the flame dancing across his flesh almost euphoric.

With a simple thought, he unleashed the full force of that dancing flame on the Shemyaza who’d

tried to kill his mother and threatened his woman.

The stench of burning flesh filled the air as black smoke billowed out of the Shemyaza. Cranston

shrieked briefly, so quickly engulfed by Dante’s fire that he was dead before he could drop to the
ground.

“Damn. Remind me not to piss you off.”
Dante turned to Seth with a grin. “Damn straight.”
Seth laughed. “You might want to tone down the flames, Johnny Storm. I think we might be close

enough to civilization for someone to come investigate. They don’t need to see your Human Torch
imitation.”

“Testa di cazzo.”
“It’s not nice to call your friends shithead, shithead.”
Dante laughed and, with great reluctance, doused his flame. By that time the Shemyaza was reduced

to nothing but ash. There was no body to clean up, and no need to remain in the cold that was now
seeping into his bones. The ache in his arm, forgotten in his fiery anger, returned with a vengeance.
He clutched it close with a grimace. “C’mon, fly-boy. Let’s go home.”

Seth nodded wearily and retracted his wings with his own pained grimace. “We need to report to

Gabriel, especially about your new appendages.”

Dante sighed. He was not looking forward to the archangel’s interrogation, as gentle as it would

be. They’d disobeyed Gabriel’s orders, and despite their success the angel was going to be pissed.
“Shit.”

Seth laughed as they began to slowly make their way back to Dante’s home. “Better you than me.”
“I hate you so much right now.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Beth tried her best to force her shaking hands to work. “Let me make tea, Teresa,” she said, watching
as Teresa began filling Dante’s tea pot with water.

“Why didn’t you run after my son?” Teresa demanded, hands on her hips. There was a dark bruise

on her temple that had Beth worried about concussion. “He’s hurt. He shouldn’t be out there alone.”

“Because I knew he’d rather I stayed with you, making sure you weren’t hurt.” She’d known almost

immediately where she was needed, and it wasn’t running after a Shem.

“Come on, Teresa. Your hands are shaking. Let me make the tea.”
Before Beth could protest, the tea pot was taken from her hands. “I’ll make the tea.” Damien,

who’d arrived with Seth shortly after Dante ran off, had helped Beth carry Teresa into Dante’s house.
“You two sit.” She was gently seated at the kitchen table and handed a biscotti. “Here, eat. It will
settle your nerves. What exactly happened tonight? Gabriel will want a full report.”

Elizabeth had to stifle a laugh, but took the biscotti. Her nerves were fine. Dante would tear

Cranston apart for hurting his mother. She just hoped he came home to her unharmed.

“I agree. Why did the Shem come here with a gun?” Teresa asked as Damien put the tea on the

table. She took a seat across from Beth, her hands nervously cradling her own mug.

“Simple. He’s the one who killed Jennifer Blake.”
“The lawyer? The one working for the politician?” Teresa sounded surprised.
“Yes. He was stealing from the Blessing campaign... Sort of.”
Teresa scowled. “What do you mean, sort of? You either are stealing, or you are not stealing.”
Beth tried to gather her scattered wits. She kept jumping at every little sound, wondering if it was

Dante. Or Cranston. Thank God Damien was here, or she’d be a lot more afraid. Just knowing Seth
was with Dante made her feel easier about him being out there, fighting. She’d seen Seth up against
Diana, and knew what the Angelus was capable of. Seth was fierce when those he loved were
threatened, and Dante was one of the few people he truly loved.

Beth was grateful for that beyond words right now.
“Cranston once worked for Romanov Enterprises. Piotr Romanov is not known to take kindly to

people mishandling funds, and Cranston was definitely mishandling them. Andi found out about it, but
before Piotr could investigate Cranston himself Cranston’s manager fired him.”

Teresa nodded, her hands still tightly wrapped around the mug. She hadn’t taken a sip yet, but

neither had Beth. “So this was revenge against Romanov.”

“Exactly. I don’t even think Cranston knew he was working for a Nephilim, because the two of

them never met face to face.” Beth’s hands clenched around her own mug, enjoying the warmth as she
continued. “Cranston stole money out of Romanov’s personal fund, diverted it to the Blessing
campaign, and began laundering it. He used Jennifer Blake as a blind, not knowing that she was
having an affair with Todd Blessing. When she started looking into the financial records, Cranston
realized that he hadn’t been careful enough. There was a Romanov file on the computer, but not on
paper, and Jennifer must have found it. That’s what got her killed, not Shem hunger.”

“So the Shem’s feeding off her was a red herring?” Damien joined them at the table. He took a seat

next to Teresa and crossed his legs, very much the gentleman at leisure.

“I think so. It’s also why Cranston stole the files out of Blessing’s office. He had to make it appear

that the Romanov file never existed, but my friend found traces of it on the computer and was able to
track the money from there.”

Teresa frowned in confusion. “Why didn’t he just take the money and leave?”
Elizabeth smiled grimly. “He wasn’t after money. He wanted revenge for losing his cushy mortal

lifestyle. Killing Jennifer was a spur of the moment thing. An anonymous tip to the police, a little
internet search of Jennifer’s records, use Blessing as the man moving the money around, and voila!
Conspiracy du jour.”

Teresa looked thoroughly confused. “But how did he hide what he was from Dante, let alone

Piotr?”

“Piotr never saw him, remember. As for Dante, he utilized a trick that Gabriel said he’d seen

before. He threw off enough Shem stench to hide himself in that office, and just made sure that Dante
only saw him inside it.”

“Clever,” Damien grunted.
“I bet Blessing was next on the murder list,” Elizabeth said quietly, looking up at Teresa’s shocked

face. “In order for the murderer-as-Romanov plot to work, Blessing would have to die. The money
would then mysteriously reappear in Romanov’s accounts, and the police would go looking for him as
the murderer.”

Damien nodded. “But you caught Kensington before Cranston was ready.”
Elizabeth nodded, jumping a little as the doorbell rang. Damien got up to answer it, gun in hand, as

she continued, “And Kensington, instead of keeping his mouth shut, sang like a bird. Romanov even
spoke to me, although he didn’t tell me everything he knew.”

“Of course I did not, mladshuyu sestru. At that time, I was trying to protect you. You have no place

hunting Shemyaza.” Piotr Romanov, handsome as sin and cold as ice, sauntered into Dante’s little
kitchen. “Where is Dante?”

Beth wiggled her fingers in greeting. Now that he was no longer a suspect, she could treat him like

the friend he was slowly becoming. “Chasing a Shem.”

He nodded, smiling at Teresa Zucco with all the charm of a man who knew his own worth and

didn’t give a damn about what anyone else thought of him. He picked up Teresa’s hand and kissed her
knuckles. “Mrs. Zucco. You look exquisite, as always.”

Teresa shook her head at him before rapping him on the head with her free hand. “You are a

naughty boy, Piotr.”

Piotr laughed, the sound light and genuine and warm as the summer sun. “Da, I am.”
Damien was staring at him like he’d grown a second head as Piotr poured himself a cup of tea.
“Cranston planned on running when he realized we were closing in on him, but Dante and I got to

him before he could get away. He knew we wouldn’t let it go, so he came here.”

“And ran into me.” Teresa scowled. “I cannot believe I allowed him to get the drop on me.”
Piotr kissed her hand again. “It can happen to the best of us, prekrasnyy odin. That is why we

always work in small teams, so that we never have to face a Shem alone.”

Teresa didn’t look convinced, but before she could retort Seth and Dante came into the house.

Dante looked pale, worn, his sling gone.

Beth ran over to him, embracing him. “Ow.”
“You’re hurt?” Her voice came out shaky.
Dante embraced her tightly. “Only a little. I’m fine, tesoro.”

“Dante!”
Elizabeth turned to see Teresa standing in the doorway. Her hands were on her hips, and her lips

trembled as she began to shout at him in Italian. Elizabeth only understood one word in ten, but she
got the general idea.

Seth was rubbing at his left shoulder. “I’m going to head home to Abby. She’s craving

strawberries.” Seth grinned sheepishly. “I’m having some chocolate covered ones delivered tonight,
and I want to be there when they arrive.”

Seth was good for her friend, and Beth couldn’t be happier for them. “Tell her I said hi, and we

have to go to lunch soon. And Seth? Thanks.”

Seth nodded. “It’s what we do.” He rubbed his hands together and glanced around the room.

“Anyone need a ride?”

Both Damien and Piotr shook their heads, and Seth left after a brief goodbye.
All the while, Teresa was berating Dante for getting injured even as she fussed over him. She

insisted on pouring his tea, scowling at Piotr when he offered to do it.

Piotr laughed again. “Very well, sestra. I will leave you to fuss over your son in peace.” He

glanced at his watch, his expression returning to the cold, remote man Beth had first met. “If you’ll
excuse me, I have an appointment I must keep.” He bowed once more over Teresa’s hand. “Dobryj
vyechyer, malen’kaya sestra.”

Teresa surprised them all. “Prebyvaniem bezopasny, moı̆ brat.”
Piotr laughed, the delight-filled sound so at odds with the cold-looking man. He kissed Teresa on

the cheek and whispered something in her ear that had her laughing and swatting him in response. In a
swirl of motion he was gone, leaving behind two very bemused-looking men and one very satisfied
Teresa. She settled back down at the kitchen table with a secretive smile. “He’s a good boy.”

Damien opened his mouth, but the glare Teresa sent him had him shutting it quickly. “I think that’s

my cue to leave. Want me to report in to Gabriel?”

Dante nodded. “Please do. Elizabeth and I have some things to discuss.”
Damien nodded. “Stay safe, my brother.”
Dante did the man-clench thing with Damien. “Stay safe, my brother.”
“What did all that mean?” Beth whispered to Dante. “The Russian stuff, I mean.”
“You know how I say ‘stay safe, my brother’?” Dante whispered back as Damien took his leave.

“That was Piotr and my mother doing the same, except he called her sister.”

“Oh.”
Dante smiled at his mother. “I’m calling Dad to come and get you.” Dante winced as he reached for

the phone. “I don’t trust myself to drive right now.”

“I can do it, Dante.” Teresa gathered her things. “I know myself well. I have a slight headache, but

I’m certain I have no concussion.”

“Are you sure, Mama?” Dante cupped her cheek in his hand and studied his mother’s face intently.

Whatever he saw there seemed to reassure him. Beth saw the relief that washed over his face, and
was glad for it.

“Si. I am fine, la mia fiamma.” Teresa kissed her son’s cheek. “Take care of your Elizabeth,

hmm?”

Dante’s answering grin was evil. “I plan on it.” He walked his mother to her car, leaving Beth

waiting by the kitchen table. To give herself something to do she began cleaning up the tea cups and

half-eaten biscotti.

“Elizabeth.”
She turned, only to find herself engulfed in Dante’s arms. He kissed her with a desperate longing

that had her leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight.

He’d been scared, and now was seeking comfort whether he understood that or not. But Beth did.

She’d seen his pained relief when his mother had begun yelling at him, the sheer desperate want when
he’d looked at Elizabeth. Something had happened out there, and now Dante needed Beth to make it
all better.

She freed her mouth long enough to mutter, “Bed.”
Dante allowed her to tug him toward the stairs, his gaze hot and fiery on her the entire way. She

could feel his heat licking up her back, her neck, along her rear end. He touched her with his flames,
and she shuddered in response.

At the top of the stairs he wrapped her in his arms once more. “I need you, Elizabeth.” He kissed

her again, desperate and hungry.

“Bedroom, tesoro.”
He shivered against her. “Si. Bed.” He growled a warning when she shoved him off her.

“Elizabeth.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, crooking her finger at him and backing toward his room. “C’mon,

fire man. Let’s get horizontal.”

He didn’t laugh the way she’d expected. Instead, Dante stalked after her, his clothes hitting the

floor as he got naked.

Good plan. Elizabeth pulled her own sweater off, then toed off her boots. “On the bed.” He

whimpered, looking pained, and she laughed. “Dante. Get on the bed so we can fuck like bunnies.”

He practically bounced on the mattress, he hit it so swiftly. She would have laughed again if he

hadn’t immediately grabbed his arm. “Ow.”

“Ugh. Stay put, you stubborn son of a bitch.” Dressed only in her bra and panties, Beth raced down

the stairs to grab Dante’s pain pills and a glass of water. She carried them both upstairs, handing them
to Dante with a scowl. “Take them.”

He meekly swallowed the pills and lay back down. “Now what?”
She was pleased he hadn’t fought her on the pills. “Now I ravish you.”
“Oh. I like ravishing.” He groaned as she licked the side of his neck. “Is this the part where I think

of England?”

She giggled. “You’d better be thinking about more than that.”
He tugged her close. “Trust me. You’re the only one I’ll be thinking of.”
She smiled slightly. “Well?”
He cupped her face in his hand and turned her toward him, leaning in for a kiss. She felt the

tenderness in his kiss, the love in his trembling hands.

She was home, where she belonged, and she was never leaving, Francesca and Lillian be damned.
He ended the kiss gently, and much too soon. “I love you, Elizabeth.” His expression was filled

with love and desire.

She couldn’t keep the smug look off her face. “Good.”
One golden brow rose. “Good? Just ‘good’?”
Aw, listen to him grumble. Poor baby. He’ll break out the puppy eyes soon. “Not good?”

He glared up at her even as his good hand cupped her ass. “Elizabeth, I want the words.”
She hadn’t understood how serious he was about those three little words. How uncertain of her he

still was. It was her fault, she knew. Her doubts about how fast their relationship had developed
disappeared the moment he had run after Cranston, leaving her behind. The combination of pride and
terror couldn’t be denied. “I love you too, Dante.”

His slow smile lit her from the inside out. “Good.” He kissed her again, taking her mouth slowly at

first, gently, silently telling her of his love.

But all too soon gentle kisses weren’t enough. It had been too long since he’d been inside her, and

she needed him.

Before she could do what she’d planned, his fire licked along her skin. “Dante.” She gasped, her

breath stolen as his fire curled around her nipples, dancing over them, heating them.

“Love you.” His flame stroked her between her thighs, caressing her clit. “I need you.”
Shit. This was going to be far faster than she’d planned. Something about Dante’s inner fire sent her

reeling, damn near ready to beg for his cock. “You’d better be ready.”

He grabbed his cock with his good hand. “Ride me, tesoro. Come for me.”
This time she was the one who whimpered as she straddled his hips. She gasped as she slid down

his length, the searing warmth of his cock branding her as his from the inside out in an incandescent
pleasure that rocked her to the core.

She began writhing on his cock, brushing her clit over the blond curls that decorated his stomach

just above, moaning in pleasure as his fire continued to stroke her skin, her clit, her hair. She was
ablaze, on fire for him, ready to come at just the touch of his heat.

“Going to come, tesoro?”
She nodded, her head back, riding the wave of pleasure that engulfed her. Only Dante could make

her come so quickly, so hard that she saw stars.

“Again, tesoro.” He squeezed her ass cheek and grinned. “Come all over me. Mark me as yours.”
She glared down at him even as she began to rock on him. “You’d better be mine.”
He laughed, deep and rich, thrusting his hips up and driving his cock deep. “I’m all yours, love.

You’re the only one who’s withstood the fire within me. How can I not be?”

Beth was going to say something, but Dante did something with that fire of his that had her crying

out in pleasure. She felt lit from within, glowing with him as he thrust into her. She placed her hands
on his chest and rode him, reaching for that incandescent pleasure that was hovering just out of reach.

Dante blew out a breath, his fire licking her skin, her nipples, that special spot behind her knees

that very few lovers ever found. It was like he knew all her hot spots and was hitting them all at once.
Beth began moving faster and faster, bouncing on his cock as he encouraged her half in English, half
in Italian.

“That’s it, tesoro. Ride me. Scopare mi.” He hissed as his brows drew together. “So good. Così

caldo, amore mio. Ti amo.”

The words flowed from him, telling her of his need, his desire. She bent over him, her breasts

against his chest, their lips barely touching as he breathed out and she breathed in. He put his feet
against the mattress and thrust into her, taking her mouth in a scorching kiss.

She began to moan, the orgasm beginning to build inside her. The bedsprings squeaked as Dante

fucked her, his cock sliding in and out of her, hot and hard and perfect. His hand clamped down on
her hip hard enough to bruise, and she just didn’t care.

It was perfect.
His strokes became erratic, his breath quickening. “Going to come soon.”
“Uh-huh.” She pressed against his chest, her nipples stroking through his chest hair. “Now, Dante.

Make me come now.”

His fire flared as his whole body lit from within. Dante became a being of living flame beneath

her, his kiss so hot she thought she might burn alive. “Come,” he whispered against her lips. “Come,
tesoro.”

Beth shrieked, shuddering against him as his flame ignited within her, burning her up in white-hot

pleasure as he cried out. He poured into her, a hot spurt that somehow prolonged her pleasure. Beth
shuddered, the ecstasy rolling on and on until Dante’s flame died, his heat diminished, and she
collapsed against him, utterly sated and unable to catch her breath.

“Holy fuck.”
Dante chuckled, almost dislodging his still-hard cock from her pussy. “Not exactly.”
Her hips moved involuntarily, sparking more desire. “We are so doing that again, and soon.”
He kissed her, wet and deep and full of passion. “Move in with me.”
She was nodding even as she returned his kiss. “Mm-hmm.” She’d already decided on that.
Dante flexed his hips and she gasped. She couldn’t believe she was ready to go all over again.

She’d never get enough of Dante’s inner fire.

“You’re going to marry me.”
She stilled. That was... Whoa. Was she ready for that big a step? “Is that so?”
He chuckled as he began to heat once more. “Yup.”
“You know I do—Ho, right there.” Dante did something that made her eyes cross. She was ready

to sit up and beg if he’d just do that one more time.

“I know how stubborn you are, so I have a plan.”
She didn’t trust the grin that crossed his face, but he was slowly rocking into her, hard and hot, and

she couldn’t find it in her to care. “Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m going to keep fucking you until you say yes.”
She gasped as his fire began licking over her clit. “Saying yes while you’re fucking me is a given,

Dante.” Hell, she’d probably scream it at some point.

“I know.” Dante licked her chin, and she laughed. “I’m counting on it.”
“That’s cheating.” But she already knew. She’d give in to her man, eventually.
But in the meantime, she was going to take advantage of all his attempts to persuade her. As she sat

up and began riding him once more, Beth reveled in the fact that from now on, she was the only
woman in the world who would feel Dante’s fire within her.

“Love you, Elizabeth.”
Smiling, she reached behind her and grabbed his balls. “You’d better.”
Dante laughed and, with fire and sex and a whole lot of love, eventually got Beth to scream yes.

* * * * *

There are more Shems, Angels and Nephilim in All for You. Start reading now!

Someone—or something—is stalking Abby Marcheson. Luckily, she has her brother’s hunky friend

Seth to keep her safe. Abby falls easily into her protected life, with Seth constantly by her side, and

when he asks her out on a date, she’s eager to accept.

But Seth is much more than he seems. A Nephilim, a son of Angels with wings of his own, Seth is

bound to spend his life hunting the Shemyaza, evil descendants of Angels. He’s kept his wings hidden

from Abby in order not to frighten her, but as her stalker becomes bolder, Seth begins to suspect that a

Shem has Abby in its sights...

As their flirtation escalates into full-blown passion, Seth is torn. Should he reveal his true nature to

the beautiful, trusting Abby? Will she accept him, wings and all, or will Abby flee her guardian angel

and fall prey to the sinister force that wishes her harm?

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About the Author

Dana Marie Bell wrote her first short story when she was thirteen years old. She attended the High
School for Creative and Performing Arts for creative writing, where freedom of expression was the
order of the day. When her parents moved out of the city and placed her in a Catholic high school for
her senior year, she tried desperately to get away, but the nuns held fast, and she graduated with
honors despite herself. She’s now a USA TODAY bestselling author with Carina Press and Samhain
Publishing.

Dana lives with her soul mate, Dusty, their two maniacal children, an evil ice-cream-stealing cat and
a bull terrier that thinks it’s a Pekinese. She’s been heard to describe herself as “vertically
challenged” and “a lapsed brunette.” Dana also suffers from ankylosing spondylitis (a progressive
inflammatory arthritis that primarily affects the spine), and can be seen walking with a cane or tooling
around in her mobility scooter.

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ISBN-13: 9781426898549

THE FIRE WITHIN

Copyright © 2014 by Dana Marie Bell

Edited by Mallory Braus

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mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher,
Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by
arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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