Moon Sworn

Chapter 13

He didn’t hesitate, just pulled the trigger.

I dove out of the way, but as fast as I was, it just wasn’t enough. The bullet ripped through the fleshy part of my thigh and wedged somewhere inside. Pain welled, thick and hard.

Not because I’d been shot. Because the bullet was silver.

Fuck.

I hit the ground hard, felt rather than saw his movement, and knew he was already aiming again. I shifted position and swept my good leg around with all the force I could muster. The vamp in control of the cop’s mind was too focused on shooting me to notice the blow coming, and I hit the young cop’s legs just as he pulled the trigger. The shot aimed at my head hit the ceiling instead and the cop’s butt hit the floor so hard air exploded from his lungs and the gun went flying. I didn’t give him—or the vamp—time to recover, just lunged forward and smashed my fist against his nose and mouth. Which was a dirty thing to do given the young cop wasn’t at fault, but with silver burning in my body, I had no time for niceties.

As he fell to the floor, I pulled myself to my feet, hauled him onto his side so he wouldn’t choke on his own blood, then grabbed the gun from where it had fallen and half hobbled, half hopped around the reception desk. The door leading to the back rooms was open, and I could see the blood heat of three others. All of them were in the back area, in what looked like separate rooms. Cells, obviously.

But why would Harris be in a cell?

I wiped away the sweat that was threatening to blur my vision and wished I could get rid of the burning in my leg as easily. It was a burning that could end my life if I didn’t get the bullet out of my flesh quickly.

None of the people inside the cells was moving. The vamp was obviously alive and well, but I had no idea about the state of the others.

And there was only one way to find out.

I hobbled around the corner, moving with neither speed nor grace. But every sense I had was alert and the gun was steady, despite the trembling weakness beginning to flare up my leg.

The room immediately beyond was small and little more than a waiting area for the main holding cells. The two areas were divided by a barred steel gateway— which was currently open—and beyond that were four cells. Only one was open.

I hobbled forward. The vamp was in the first cell. I couldn’t actually see him from where I was standing, but I could smell and feel him. Not physically but mentally. The wash of power flowed around me like a stream, not aimed at me but at the cop in the other room. He was trying to wake him, trying to make him attack again.

I stopped and peered through the food tray opening. The vamp was sitting on his concrete bed platform and glared my way balefully. He didn’t, however, look too concerned.

“Quit the telepathic attacks,” I said flatly, “or I’ll make you.”

“I think I’ll take the second option,” he said, his expression overconfident, almost jovial. “I can smell your blood and feel your flesh burning, wolf. We both know you won’t come into this room right now because you have neither the physical strength nor the speed to beat me. And with the silver in your flesh, you’re barely keeping your shields at maximum. All I have to do is wait, and you will be mine.”

The bastard was right. Given the fact my leg was already going numb, there was no doubt my shields would weaken as the silver drained more and more of my strength.

But it wasn’t like I had no other options and, given the situation, I wasn’t afraid to take them. I raised the gun, aimed it through the feeding slot, and shot him.

The bullet smashed through his kneecap, spraying blood and flesh and bits of bone across the grimy white walls. He screamed and clutched at his leg. My second shot took him high in the shoulder, and the caress of energy dropped to nothing.

“Try to control anyone else, and I’ll shoot to kill,” I said, and slammed the food tray slot closed. It didn’t do much to muffle his screams.

I knew how he felt. I very much felt like screaming myself.

I hobbled on, all but dragging my right leg. Blood was pouring from the wound, but it was the burning—and the numbness that was spreading like tentacles across my flesh—that was the biggest concern.

A quick look in the next cell told me it contained the pilot. He was lying on the concrete bed, but his eyes were open and his expression was an odd mix of defiance and fear.

The third cell held Harris. He was also lying on the bed, but his eyes were closed and the side of his face was battered and bloody.

“Harris?” I said. “You okay?”

He didn’t respond, and his breathing was shallow and rapid.

“Harris,” I repeated, louder this time. “Wake up.”

He jumped, then groaned and somewhat groggily scrubbed a hand across his bruised and beaten features before turning his head toward the door. “What?” he said, the word coming out a little slurred.

“Where are the keys for the cell?”

He blinked rather owlishly. Concussion, I thought. “Why do you want that?”

“Because you’re stuck inside of one.”

“I am?”

He sat up abruptly, but the movement was too sudden, and he vomited without warning. It splattered across the concrete floor, making me suddenly glad I wasn’t standing inside. The smell was bad enough from out here.

I waited impatiently, watching the blood trickle down his cheek, feeling it pour down my leg. My jeans were saturated, and blood was beginning to drip onto the tiled floor.

“Harris, you need to concentrate. Where are the keys?”

“There are none.” His words, though still slurred, seemed a little stronger.

“What?” I glanced down at the door and noticed for the first time it had two methods of locking. One was the traditional key lock, the other electronic.

“What’s the combination?”

“Four oh eight one. Is the vamp neutralized?”

“For the moment, yes.” I pressed the code in and an alarm sounded as the little light flicked from red to green. I twisted the handle and pulled the door open. “Why didn’t he attack you rather than Benny?”

“Because I’m mind-blind, and Benny’s not.” He pushed to his feet and stood there, wobbling for a bit. “How is Benny?

“I’m afraid I busted his nose and probably some teeth.” I paused for breath. Damn, my chest felt like it was getting heavier. Fear swelled but I pushed it down. I would not die. Not like this. “He shot me with silver and I really didn’t have the time for finesse.”

He glanced at me sharply and I saw his gaze widen fractionally. “We’d better call you a doctor.”

“Call them if you want, but I can’t wait for them to arrive. I’m extremely sensitive to silver, and my leg is already numb. We need to get this bullet out now.”

“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand across his face, then walked—a little unsteadily—forward. “There’s a first aid kit in the reception area. We’ll need that.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and half guided, half carried me back down the corridor—though I wasn’t entirely sure who was supporting whom.

His nostrils flared as he passed the vamp’s cell. “I smell blood.”

“As I said, I didn’t have the time for finesse.” I shrugged, and the movement sent pain rippling. “A vamp with two bullet wounds isn’t going to be capable of attacking anyone telepathically for a while.”

Harris grunted. It wasn’t a happy-sounding grunt, but he didn’t actually say anything. Maybe even he could see that tough situations called for tough measures.

Even if they were against police rules.

But then, I wasn’t police. I was Directorate. The damn vamp was lucky he wasn’t dead. I might not want to kill, but all bets were off when the bastards attacked me.

We went through the barred gateway. He paused, briefly releasing me to close the door and punch in a code, then we staggered forward again. Harris guided me through the door then around to the left, behind the reception desk. Benny was where I’d left him.

“How did you manage to get locked in the cell?” I said, as Harris kicked out a chair then dropped me into it.

“I had no idea the vamp was even awake until Benny attacked me. It was lucky that I saw him move at the last moment, because the wrench smashed down the side of my face instead of the top of my skull.” He retrieved a large first aid kit from underneath the desk and opened it up. “I saw stars, but I had enough sense left to kick his feet out from underneath him and run for the cells.”

I grabbed my wounded leg with both hands and hauled it up onto another chair. The damn thing felt like so much dead flesh and, deep in my stomach, the fear of losing the use of my limb gnawed. But I guess I was lucky it was my leg rather than my shoulder. I’d been shot far too many times in that region now, as the numbness and sensitivity in my fingertips indicated. I might have died instantly, rather than merely suffering.

Harris pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, then grabbed a pair of needle-fine scissors. “Why didn’t he simply punch in the code and open the door?”

“Because I have an override locking code that no one else knows. I used it on both the vamp’s cell and my own.”

He began slicing away the material from the wound. Despite the fact he was being careful, the sharp point of the scissors dug into my flesh several times. Luckily, I felt the movement, not the pain. My flesh was too numb to feel anything right now.

“How did you lock the door from the inside the cell?” The keypad was nowhere near the food tray opening, and unless he was Mr. Elastic, there was no way known he would have been able to reach it.

“There’s a time delay on it. You have one minute to close the door before it locks.” He dropped the scissors on the chair next to my foot then reached for the long tweezers. His gaze met mine. “This will probably burn like a bitch.”

“The wound is numb, so it won’t really matter.” But my fingers tightened reflexively around the arms of the chair.

“Numb?” His expression deepened to worry. “That happened fast.”

“As I said, I’m extremely sensitive.”

He grunted and carefully pressed open the sides of the wound with his free hand. Blood poured out over his fingertips and started dripping on the floor. Thanks to the numbness it didn’t actually hurt, but something inside of me trembled anyway.

“I can’t see a goddamn thing through the blood,” he muttered.

He carefully pressed the tweezers into the wound anyway, driving them down into my flesh.

“You’re going to have to tell me when I hit the bullet.”

He dug deeper and hit it. Only gently, but it felt like he was driving a red-hot poker deeper into my flesh. I just about jumped through the roof, and sweat popped out across my forehead as my breathing became short, sharp gasps.

So much for the wound being numb.

“Meaning I’ve hit it,” he commented. “Hang on hard to something and try not to move.”

If I gripped the arms of the chair any tighter, I’d fucking shatter them. And the damn things were metal.

The bullet moved again. Heat flashed, white hot, through my muscles and nausea rose thick and fast. I swallowed heavily and closed my eyes, hoping that not watching would make me less aware.

It didn’t.

I felt every inch of the bullet’s journey upward. Felt it when his grip slipped and the bullet fell back into my flesh. Sweat dripped from my forehead and ran in rivers down my back, and bile rose so fast it took all of my control not to vomit on his shoes.

Then the heat was gone and Harris was holding up the tweezers with the bloody bullet clamped firmly between its jaws.

“Done,” he said. “But you need to change to stop the bleeding.”

“Thanks.” I rolled out of the chair and reached for the shifting magic, instinctively calling to my wolf rather than the seagull.

There was no hesitation, no pain, this time. Just a surge of power that swept through my body, numbing and reshaping my body, until what stood there was wolf rather than human. I stayed in her form for several seconds, simply enjoying the feel of her, then, somewhat reluctantly, shifted back. The wound was nowhere near healed, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

Harris closed the first aid kit then put the bloody tweezers and scissors into a plastic bag. “What now?”

“Well, the vamp has proven capable of getting past the nanowire and controlling Benny, so our first order of business is to get him contained. And Evin’s waiting outside in the car for an all-clear, so we need to bring him in.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why is he outside?”

“Because I knew something was wrong the minute we pulled up. I’m used to dealing with vamps. He’s not.” I shrugged. “I was simply keeping him safe.”

“Given the vamp is injured but telepathically unrestrained, how safe would it be to bring him within range?”

“With the silver out of my leg, I’ll be able to protect him.”

I said it with more assurance than I felt, but Harris didn’t seem to notice. He pushed away from the bench and moved toward the front door.

“I thought you suspected him of being a fake brother and connected to the evil plot surrounding you?”

“He is a fake, but he’s not willingly connected to the machinations.”

“Meaning you’ve unraveled more clues?”

“I certainly have.” And some of them he wasn’t going to like.

He opened the front door and waved Evin in, then walked across to Benny and squatted down beside him. He pressed his fingers against the side of his neck, then gave a slight nod. “His pulse is steady, but his nose will be mighty sore when he wakes.”

There wasn’t much I could say to that, so I didn’t say anything.

He glanced around as the door opened and Evin stepped inside. His gaze quickly swept Harris, Benny, and then me, taking in the blood on my pants and around the chair. “What the fuck has been happening?”

“Long story,” Harris said. “Grab Benny’s feet. We need to get him into a cell.”

Evin did as ordered, and the two lifted the young man with ease. “He looks as if he needs a doctor, not a cell.”

“He’s susceptible to vampire suggestion, so he goes into the cell,” I said, connecting just enough to his mind to feel if the vampire tried to control him. “And we can’t risk a doctor for the very same reason.”

“Oh.”

For someone who didn’t have much to do with either cops or vampires, Evin seemed to be handling it all amazingly calmly. The two men disappeared through the door. A few seconds later, the cell door slammed shut and footsteps echoed as they returned.

“So why are you two here?” Harris asked as he walked into the reception area. Evin followed him out and propped his butt on the reception desk.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the intervention,” Harris continued, “but I ordered you to stay away.”

“And we know how well ordering me to stay away in the past has worked, don’t we?” He rolled his eyes. I smiled and added, “I needed to ask you some questions.”

“Then fire away.” He strolled across to a percolator and flicked a switch. The rich aroma of brewing coffee soon filled the air, making my taste buds water.

I crossed my arms and said, “How well do you know Mike West?”

He gave me what I could only call a “cop look” and said, voice flat, “Mike West isn’t involved in any nefarious plot against you.”

“Then do you know why he was driving toward the whaling station just over an hour ago?”

Harris shrugged. “Why is that even important?”

I sidestepped the question with another. “Then do you know what Denny and his friends have been up to over the last few hours?”

“No. Not only have I been out of contact with Mike, Denny, and any of his friends, but I was with you, chasing a killer and then getting locked in a cell. How the fuck would I know what anyone has been up to?”

“Then no one has reported anything to you?” I persisted.

“No. And if anyone had reported it to Mike, I would have heard it. Emergency calls get routed to both cell phones when we’re out of the office.” He glanced at Evin. “How do you take your coffee?”

“White and one.”

Harris nodded, made the coffee, then carried over three cups, handing one to Evin and one to me before sitting on the chair I’d propped my foot on earlier. “What are you getting at, Hanna?”

“I’m not Hanna.”

“Well, until you remember your name, I need to call you something. Now answer the damn question.”

“While you and I were hunting your prisoners, Denny and his friends kidnapped Evin.”

“What?” He glanced sharply at Evin, eyebrow raised in query.

“It’s true,” Evin said. “I have the bruises and rope and silver burns to prove it.”

“And I have the ransom note.” I took the piece of plastic out of my pocket and handed it over. He read it silently and shook his head.

“Why would the damn fool do something this stupid?”

It was a rhetorical question, but I answered it anyway. “It was a ploy to get me out to the whaling station alone, where dearest Denny intended to exact his revenge. Except they were expecting me to drive out there and, as it turns out, I have an alternate shape—a seagull. That ability allowed me to get there ahead of time and get the jump on them. I disabled their trucks, rescued Evin, and we both got the hell out of there.”

Harris raised an eyebrow. “Did Denny and his friends survive the encounter?”

He didn’t actually sound like he’d mind if they hadn’t. “Of course they did.”

“Good.” His tone wasn’t convincing. “But I’m not seeing the connection to Mike.”

“When we were driving back, we saw West coming in the opposite direction. He was almost at the old whaling station, and the only way he could have gotten there so fast would be by leaving soon after I did.”

“Which means someone told him what was happening.”

“Or he was watching my place, saw me leave, and maybe even saw one of Denny’s friends go in to try to retrieve the ransom note.”

He digested this for a moment, then simply said, “No.”

“Someone else—someone other than Evin—has been reporting back to the people behind all this. I can think of no better person than a cop who is dissatisfied with where he is and what he is doing.”

“Mike is a good cop.” It was stubbornly said.

“I’m not saying he isn’t. I’m just saying he’s a cop who may have taken on a little outside work.”

“I can’t believe he’d do something like that—”

“You worked your way up through the ranks in Sydney. You know that being a cop isn’t always black and white, but mostly shades of gray. I’m not saying Mike’s gone bad, I’m just saying he might be providing information in return for something he wants—a transfer out of here.”

Hell, he’d all but said that the first time I’d met him. I took a sip of coffee and watched Harris’s expression. Or, rather, the lack of it. He was a hard man to read, and I had no idea whether he believed me or not. Even his body language was giving nothing away.

I tried another angle. “Who sent the request for information about me to the Directorate?”

He hesitated fractionally, then said, “Mike.”

“And do you know for certain that he sent it?”

“Why the hell wouldn’t he send it?”

“Because I’m Directorate. I don’t just work there. I’m a guardian.”

“What?” His expression was incredulous. “You can’t be. You’re a werewolf.”

“Exactly what I said,” Evin murmured.

“I’m a dhampire—werewolf and vampire. I work in the daytime division in Melbourne.”

“But how—”

“Long story,” I cut in. “And it’s really not important right now. The point is, if Directorate staff suddenly disappear, an alert goes out to all divisions.”

“And if some cop in a godforsaken town suddenly starts asking for information about someone who matches the description of that missing personnel,” Harris said heavily, “all hell should break loose.”

“And it hasn’t. Which to my way of thinking means the request never went through.”

“Unless they’re just a slack outfit over in Perth. I sent the information to them about the murders, and I haven’t had a response back from those, either.” He took a sip of coffee then added, “And according to you, these types of murders would have been red-flagged as a priority.”

“They should have been.” So why had no one contacted Harris? That’s what I couldn’t understand. I took another drink of coffee, then added, “It might be a good idea to actually phone them again.”

“You mean, right now?”

“Why not? We have a dangerous vamp who’s connected to an organization that’s hiring out killers for revenge purposes. The Perth staff don’t know I’m here or that I’m Directorate, so they should be getting their butts out here ASAP.”

“True.”

He reached sideways, pressing the speaker button on the phone before punching in a series of numbers. The phone began to ring, the sound echoing across the brief silence.

But before it could be answered, the line went dead.

“What the fuck?” Harris picked up the receiver and pressed several buttons, then glanced at me. “Nothing. It’s as dead as a doornail.”

Evin rose and walked across to another desk. “So’s this one.” He put the receiver back down. “Christ, you don’t think Denny and his friends would be stupid enough to try to attack us?”

“Intelligence was never his strong suit, but even Denny and his friends aren’t that stupid.” Harris glanced at me. At that moment, the lights went out.

“Down, get down,” I hissed, dropping out of the chair and hitting the floor on hands and knees. My coffee went flying, spilling across the carpet as the cup rolled even farther away from my fingertips.

Then I felt it.

An energy, a presence, that sang to my heart, wrapping me in warmth and passion and making me feel safer than I’d felt since I’d woken in the desert.

I couldn’t recall his name, but I knew him. Loved him.

I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door. It opened, revealing only the darkness of the night. But he was there, hidden in the shadows, and I launched myself at him.

The darkness wrapped me in a hug that was fierce and joyous, pressing me against a body that was so very real.

“Thank God,” he whispered, his cheek pressing against mine as he hugged me ferociously. “I really thought I’d lost you for a while there.”

“You almost did.” As the shadows hiding his body began to dissipate, I kissed him, with every ounce of the love and relief that was surging through me.

Only to be practically torn out of his arms and into the arms of another. A man who wore the masculine version of my face and who was the other half of me. The brother that Evin wasn’t.

“Oh, thank Christ,” he said, his hug every bit as fierce as my vampire’s. “I was going crazy with worry.”

“I take it,” Harris drawled from behind us, “that you know both of these men and that I should drop my weapon.”

“If you don’t,” another voice said from the very back of the room, “you might just get shot yourself.”

I twisted out of my brother’s grip and saw another vampire standing in the cell block doorway. I knew his face, knew he was my boss, and was both relieved and surprised to see him here. But I couldn’t damn well name him, and that was frustrating.

He was holding a laser aimed straight at Harris, and the whine of the weapon firing up indicated he was very close to pressing the trigger.

“Everyone, relax. Harris is the cop here, and Evin is a friend. They’re both on our side.”

The whine of the laser shut down. Rich green eyes met mine. “What the hell is going on here, Riley?”

Riley. The name fit. It felt right. Riley Jenson. That was my name. I wanted to dance with the joy of finally knowing me.

But right now, there were more important things to concentrate on. Celebrations could happen later, when the mess surrounding me and Evin had been cleaned up.

“A truckload of shit is what’s been happening,” I replied. “But the first thing you need to know is the fact that there’s whole chunks of my memories missing. I know who you all are, but I can’t for the life of me remember your names. In fact, until a moment ago, I couldn’t even remember my own name.”

“What?” my brother said.

“It’s all part of the plot,” Evin said. He was sitting on the edge of the desk, his stance suggesting he was ready to fight. He wasn’t about to trust the three men in my life—and I couldn’t entirely blame him. Not with the dark and dangerous look my brother was flinging his way.

Evin added, “According to her driver’s license, she’s Hanna London. I’m her brother, Evin. We were supposed to be here for a week.”

“So you’re part of it?” My twin stepped forward, anger practically oozing from every pore. He wanted someone to blame—someone to take his frustration out on—very badly indeed.

I grabbed his arm. “Not willingly. And would you mind introducing yourselves? I can’t exactly do it.”

He glanced at me. “I’m Rhoan, that’s Jack over near the door, and Quinn is the brooding presence behind us.”

I looked over my shoulder and gave him a smile. And noticed for the first time the fading scar down the side of his face. I reached out and touched it gently. Saw again the truck hitting the black car, that car rolling over and over, and shivered inwardly. He was lucky to be alive. I guess we both were.

He caught my fingers and kissed them gently. “Do you know why your memories are so sketchy? Was it the accident, or was it deliberate?”

“Deliberate.”

He touched my temple with his free hand and power washed around me, warm and familiar. “I can feel the imprint of another. We might be able to undo it.”

“Good. But not right now.” I turned around and looked at Jack. “We’ve had two murders here in Dunedan, both revenge killings very similar to the one I was investigating in Melbourne. This time, Harris and I managed to capture the killer and the helicopter pilot who was coming to pick him up.”

Jack shook his head. “Even kidnapped, you still manage to find yourself in the middle of a murder investigation.”

“Even when she was repeatedly told to keep her nose out of it,” Harris murmured, humor touching his lips as his gaze met mine.

“Ah, well.” Jack walked across the room and helped himself to some coffee. “I’ve been her boss for years and, let me tell you, getting her to obey orders is impossible.”

“But in this case, it was a good thing.” I leaned back against Quinn. His warmth and his smell soaked through my pores, filling a void I hadn’t even been aware of until now. “Because it was the similarities of the murders here to the ones I’d been investigating in Melbourne that began triggering memories.”

“Probably because whoever was doing the memory rearranging didn’t know enough about your life to make it stick.”

With the back of my head resting against Quinn’s chest, his voice seemed to rumble right through me. It was a wonderful sensation.

“That makes sense, because the stuff they didn’t know about—like my seagull shape and clairvoyance skills—I could access, but my wolf shape, and the knowledge of who and what I was, I couldn’t.”

“So why didn’t they erase your mind completely?” Harris asked. “That would have been a whole lot easier, surely?”

“It would have,” Jack said, “but Riley has extremely strong shields. Most vampires wouldn’t break past more than the first few layers of memories.”

He could, as could Quinn, but even they were no longer able to dive deep into my subconscious. I’d grown too strong over the past year.

The thought made me smile. It was nice to actually remember.

“Which is why you’ve lost the everyday stuff and not most of the deeper, instinctive information,” Rhoan said. His gaze went to my ear. “Have you been wearing a set of those nulling implants like the ones that Kye placed on you several months ago? Because I haven’t been able to feel your presence, and Quinn wasn’t able to sense you.”

“Not until about an hour ago,” Quinn added. His lips brushed the top of my head. “You have no idea just how much of a relief that was.”

I smiled and placed my hands over his. “We took the implants out about then.” I glanced at my brother. “When I disappeared, did you go talk to Blake?”

His thin cold smile said it all. “Yes. He claimed to know nothing.”

“And you believed him?”

“No. But I couldn’t kill him, either—not until we found out where you were. He’s still under surveillance.”

“Blake?” Evin said, sitting up a little straighter. “You mean our Blake? The leader of the Jenson pack?”

“The very one,” Rhoan said, still eyeing Evin critically. “With that hair color, I take it you’re from the Jenson pack?”

“Yes.” He was staring at the two of us with an odd sort of expression. “You’re Riley and Rhoan Jenson, aren’t you?”

I raised an eyebrow at the edge in his voice. “I think we’ve already established that.”

“No,” he said, almost savagely, then added, “I mean, you don’t understand. My father is Vernon Jenson, and he married Rayanne Jenson in a human civil ceremony some ten years ago.”

I stared at him. “Your father married our mother? That means—”

“That I was right. I am your brother. By marriage, granted, but kin all the same.” He smiled. “And you have a brother and two sisters you really need to meet.”

“What?” Rhoan’s gaze jumped between me and Evin. “Mum wouldn’t do that.”

Evin raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because she swore never to have any more children after the way we were treated. And a civil ceremony? That means they’re not soul mates—”

“But they love each other all the same. It may not be the deep, forever connection of a wolf mate, but it’s still there and still real. And we have siblings to prove it.”

“Fuck,” Rhoan said, and thrust a hand through his short hair. But when he glanced at me, his eyes were bright and shiny. “We have brothers and sisters.”

And underneath those words ran one joyous sentiment: We are no longer alone.

We had siblings. We might not know them, nor they us, but we had blood kin. We were a part of a family unit. And for wolves who had been so alone for so long, that was a powerful realization.

“But why the hell would Mom swear such a thing? And why would Blake want to kill you?” Evin asked.

“Mom’s never said much about your reasons for leaving, only that it was for the best. And certainly Blake’s never mentioned you.”

“He wouldn’t, especially after what we did to him last year,” Rhoan said. “But I bet he’s been plotting his revenge since then.”

“A revenge he denies being a part of.” I squeezed Quinn’s hands then pushed away from his warmth. His grip loosened reluctantly—a reluctance that echoed fiercely within me. I didn’t ever want to leave this vampire’s side. It was a surprising revelation given how long it had taken me to realize I even loved the damn man. I walked across the room to retrieve my coffee cup. “But we have several avenues to explore to find the link. And I think if we manage to undo whatever has been done to my memories, we’ll discover he’s very much behind it all. Because it’s certainly his voice I keep hearing in my mind, telling me to enjoy my new life while I can.”

“Then let’s go kill the bastard,” Rhoan said, voice flat and deadly.

“Hold the anger in check,” Jack snapped. “Riley’s safe. The rest of it can wait. We are guardians, and we have the people behind these revenge killings to stop. That has to be our priority.”

“Then am I to gather,” Harris said, his arms crossed and face as impassive as ever, “that your presence here is the reason why the Perth Directorate has not responded to our request for help?”

“Basically, yes,” Jack said. “Although I have to say, there will be some ass-kicking in Perth, because they did not flag your request through to us as soon as they got it.”

“We were wondering what was going on. Hanna—” Harris hesitated, then glanced at me with a smile, “Riley kept insisting it should have been a priority-one message, even if the request came from a small-town cop in the middle of nowhere.”

“‘Should’ being the operative word. When we did actually receive it, we accessed your system for details and saw your search for information on one Hanna London. And of course, Hanna London just happened to be the spitting image of our missing guardian. We got out here as soon as we could.”

On Quinn’s private jet, no doubt. The Directorate wouldn’t have been able to move that fast, even if it was to recover a missing guardian. Whatever else it was, the Directorate was still a government department, and they are always bogged down by paperwork.

“How is the investigation actually going?” I asked. “Did you get much information out of the two shifters we caught at the brothel?”

Jack shook his head. “Several contact names—two we tracked down and one we didn’t. This organization is like government—lots of different sections that don’t know what the other is doing or where it is located.”

“Meaning we might not have much better luck with the vamp.”

“We can but try.”

“We also have the pilot who’d come to pick him up in custody,” Harris said. “The helicopter is privately owned by a company listed as Daskill Holdings. I was checking the validity of the licenses when the vamp gained control of my deputy’s mind and sidetracked me.”

“Daskill? I’ve heard that name before.” Jack frowned. “Rhoan, contact Sal and get her to do a complete background check on that company and its owners.”

Rhoan nodded and reached for his phone. As he made his call, I walked across to the machine and made three coffees, sliding one across to Rhoan before picking up the other two and returning to Quinn. After handing him a cup, I turned to face Jack.

“Are you going to interrogate the vamp?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Meaning you don’t want to?”

“Well, considering I shot him twice to stop him from hitting me telepathically, I very much doubt he’s going to cooperate with me.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just telepathically hit him back? The vamp in the cell isn’t an old one—I can tell that from here—so you’d have the mind strength to restrain him at least.”

“I had a silver bullet in my leg. It was breaking my concentration and draining my strength.”

“Hence all the blood,” Rhoan murmured, briefly putting his hand over the phone receiver. “I did wonder.”

“We got it out quickly, so there’s no lasting damage.” The area around the wound might still be numb, but at least the numbness that had stretched the length of my leg had faded a little.

“But that’s not the reason why you don’t want to interrogate the vamp, is it?” Jack said. “Give, Riley.”

I hesitated. He’d already said he wanted to concentrate on solving these murders first, but I wasn’t about to let a possible clue slip through my fingers. Right now there was very little chance of West knowing we suspected him. We needed to grab him—and question him—before he could warn anyone the jig was up.

“We have a possible connection to my kidnapping, but I need to talk to him tonight, before he realizes I’ve got a whole chunk of memory back.”

“If you’re talking about West,” Harris said, voice flat, “then you’re not doing anything without me present. I’m sorry, but I owe the man that much.”

I waved a hand. “Fine.”

“There is one problem,” Evin said. “Like me, West probably has to report in every night. Once you talk to him, then he’s going to jump straight on the phone and tell them what is going on.”

“Only if he remembers it,” Quinn said, amusement in his gaze as he glanced at me. “And considering the memory issues you’ve been having, maybe I should be the one who tackles his memory adjustment.”

“It’s not that I can’t do it,” I said mildly. “It’s just that I couldn’t remember that I could do it.”

“But that still doesn’t solve the overall problem,” Evin said. “When you disappear, he’s going to report it.”

“That, too, can be fixed.”

“West is a good cop,” Harris said adamantly. “I can’t—won’t—believe he’s aware of the true gravity of the situation. At least give him a chance to make amends before you start messing with his mind.”

“That we can do,” I said, and returned my gaze to Jack.

“Okay,” he said heavily. “Do it. Rhoan, you can stay with me. We’ll interview the vamp.”

Rhoan didn’t look happy, but he didn’t argue, either. As the two men disappeared into the cell area, I said to Harris, “It’s probably best if we confront West here. Are you able to call him in?”

“That very much depends on whether he’s decided to answer his cell phone or not.”

But he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it away from his ear slightly so we could all hear it. After several rings, West answered. His gruff tones were clear over the speakers.

“Where the fuck have you been, Mike? There’s been a second murder and all hell has broken loose. I want you back at headquarters ASAP.”

“I’m on my way.”

“From where?”

“Just passed the Old Well Road.”

Harris grunted. “Floor it.” He disconnected then glanced at us. “He’ll be here within half an hour. I would suggest you two move away from the doorway so as not to spook him.”

We did. I walked across to sit on the desk beside Evin, but Quinn merely stepped to one side of the doorway. Ready to block off any immediate escape once West saw who, exactly, was waiting for him.

We waited patiently—although in my case, that wasn’t exactly easy. I mean, after all the confusion of the last few days, I just wanted to hunt down all the clues and catch the bastards behind both crimes.

Lights eventually swept across the front windows as a truck rumbled into the driveway and stopped. A car door slammed, then footsteps approached.

A second later, the front door opened and West stepped in. His gaze swept the room and came to rest on me. There was a brief flash of surprise, but nothing else. He obviously had no real clue as to why we were all here.

“Denny and his friends have lodged a complaint about you,” he said, walking across to the coffee machine and helping himself to a drink. “I told them they were damn fools and that if they didn’t get charged with kidnap and blackmail, they’d be damn lucky.”

“I’m not here to lay charges against Denny and his friends,” I said calmly.

“Then you’re a damn fool, too.”

“She didn’t say I wouldn’t,” Evin snapped. “And trust me, those bastards will pay.”

“Good. They need to be taught a lesson.” West took a sip, then turned around to face Harris. “Where do you want me to start?”

“I think a good place,” Harris said, voice flat, “would be by telling us exactly what you know about the kidnapping of Riley Jenson—whom we happen to know as Hanna London.”

He didn’t even look at me. Just raised an eyebrow, his expression even and unfazed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Lie,” Quinn said impassively.

West glanced at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Riley’s lover, and a consultant to both the vampire council and the Melbourne Directorate.” His sudden smile was neither warm nor friendly. In fact, it reminded me of a predator about to consume its prey. Quinn’s anger and need for revenge might be less visible than my brother’s, but that didn’t mean it was absent. Far from it. “It is the first of those you should be worried about, because trust me, I ache for the chance to see justice done.”

“That,” West said, “sounded very much like a threat.”

“Mike,” Harris said heavily. “Hanna—Riley—is a guardian. Being involved with kidnapping a guardian puts you beyond our laws. I’d seriously advise you to stop the pretense and start cooperating, or they will make you.”

“I’m an officer of the law. That gives me rights against this sort of—”

“No, it doesn’t,” I cut in, my voice edged with the anger roiling through me. He had no choice and nowhere to run—surely he could see that? “Whoever is behind this has not only kidnapped me and messed with my mind, but they’re holding Evin’s pregnant mate hostage and they attempted to kill Quinn. That means we can legally question, torture, or even kill any nonhumans involved in this case, and there’s not one damn thing Harris or anyone else can do to stop us. So quit messing with us, West, or we really are going to start messing with you.”

The threat tasted bitter on my tongue and I had to resist the urge to rub my arms. With a lot of my memories back in place, the ache not to do this job was coming to the fore again.

I didn’t want to be a guardian. Didn’t want to threaten people—and worse—for a living.

I had to get out. I really did.

Then you need to let me help you. Quinn’s thoughts ran lightly through mine, gentle and yet filled with a strength that made me just want to step back and let him sort out the mess that my life had become.

But I’d been standing on my own two feet for too long now and, as stupid as it sounded, part of me was afraid to start leaning on someone else. At least when it came to something like this—something that was going to affect the direction of the rest of my life.

Which wasn’t saying that I wouldn’t let him help, either. That I didn’t need his help.

Jack won’t let me quit.

He doesn’t want you dead, either. There are always options, Riley. Trust me.

I do. With my heart and my life. But I need to sort out one mess at a time.

Then we’ll sort out your kidnapping first, followed by the Directorate. And we’ll do it together.

I hesitated, then said, a touch reluctantly, Okay.

But with that brief, one word of acceptance, I suddenly felt a whole lot better. I wasn’t alone. I hadn’t been alone for a long, long time. And it was about time I accepted that—and let the man that I loved in.

West shrugged. “It’s not like I know a whole lot.”

“Another lie,” Quinn said.

West swung around. “Damn it, keep out of my thoughts.”

“No.” Quinn crossed his arms. “Although I merely read your surface thoughts, not deeper layers. Be thankful for that.”

Confusion crossed West’s face, and I can’t say I entirely blamed him. Even I wasn’t sure what Quinn meant—I mean, reading deeper thoughts wasn’t painful for either the reader or the readee. Though maybe it could be, if the reader wanted revenge rather than mere information.

“Harris,” West said, “surely you can—”

Harris was shaking his head. “You’ve basically just confirmed what everyone in this room already knew, Mike. I’d given you the benefit of the doubt, but that belief was obviously misplaced. I will try to ensure fair treatment, but you had better start answering their questions. As they said, they can legally do what they want with you.”

West slumped back onto the nearest chair. He took a sip of coffee, then said heavily, “I was only doing a favor for a friend.”

“A friend who was going to return the favor by getting you transferred to a city location.” It was a statement, not a question. West had told me as much earlier. “In many respects, that could be considered accepting a bribe.”

“He was just going to recommend me for positions,” West retorted. “I wasn’t being given anything.”

“A technicality in this day and age,” Harris said heavily. “Especially given the many corruption inquiries over recent years. Surely you understood the risk?”

“But I needed the help, damn it!” West exploded. “Being stuck in this goddamn piece of nowhere is killing me. No department wants a cop whose only experience is in a backward country town where nothing happens.”

Two murders in twenty-four hours isn’t what I’d call nothing. But then, maybe that was simply because I was here, and I tended to attract trouble.

“So what is the name of this friend you did the favor for?”

West wiped a hand across his face. “His name is Tyson Jenson. He’s the pack leader from the Cona Creek—

which is in Queensland—London pack.”

I frowned. “How can Tyson be the leader of the London pack? He’s a Jenson.”

Even as I said the words, something inside me twisted angrily. Tyson Jenson might not be from my Jenson pack, but he was related. He was Blake’s brother.

Evin’s hand touched mine, squeezing gently. He might not be able to read thoughts, but he could smell anger, and right now, his senses were probably swamped with it.

West shrugged. “He challenged for the lead. I guess since he was mated to the pack leader’s eldest daughter, they allowed it.”

Then they were fools. “So what, exactly, did he ask you to do?”

“He told me he needed to get a troublesome wolf out of the way for a week or so. He asked me to keep on eye on both her and her brother, and to report back anything and everything they did.”

“Did he tell you why?”

West shook his head. “He just said you were causing serious trouble within the pack, and he needed you out of the way while he calmed things down.” He hesitated. “I asked how the hell I was supposed to even keep you here, and he said that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Because I was being drugged and I had my memory tampered with.”

“He didn’t tell me that. He said it was Evin’s job to keep you calm.”

“But surely to God you suspected something was up?” Harris said, frustration edging into his normally smooth tones. “You’re a good cop, Mike. You had to have to have been a little suspicious.”

“I’ve known Tyson for years. We went through training together—although he washed out during the last few weeks.” West shrugged. “I had no reason not to trust what he was telling me. Not initially.”

“And yet you didn’t send through Harris’s request for information about me to the Directorate. Was that at Tyson’s order?”

He hesitated. “It wasn’t an order.”

Order or not, it wasn’t right and he knew it. “Did he say why?”

West took a sip of coffee, then shrugged again. “He asked me to delay it a day or so, that’s all. When I asked why, he begged off, saying it was related to the mess he was trying to sort out.”

“And this didn’t raise your alarms?”

“Of course it did. That’s why I was keeping an even closer eye on you. And how I knew that damn fool Denny was up to something.” He hesitated. “I did go out to the whaling station to rescue you. I wasn’t involved with that idiot’s plans in any way, shape, or form.”

“So why did you keep driving toward the whaling station when we passed you on the road?” Evin asked.

West frowned. “I didn’t see—” He hesitated, and snorted. “You were in Grant’s truck. That’s why he was so pissed off.”

“Shame we didn’t actually wreck the truck,” Evin murmured. “The bastard certainly deserves it.”

I smiled. Evin might not be blood kin, but he certainly thought like us. “How do you contact Tyson?”

“He phones me.”

“Home or cell?”

“Cell. Every night at ten.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Even tonight?”

“Yeah. He was furious when I told him that Denny had snatched Evin and was holding him hostage against your appearance.”

“So you also went out there because he ordered you to?”

Anger flashed through his expression. “As I said, I went out there because I’m a cop and it’s my duty to stop him. No one told me to do anything.”

But the fact that his duty and Tyson’s orders coincided wouldn’t have hurt.

“Is Tyson the only contact you’ve had?”

“Yes.”

“What number does he phone from?”

“I don’t know. The number is always blocked.”

I gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re a cop, and you’re trying to tell me that didn’t bother you? When this man is your friend?”

He smiled thinly and reeled off a number. “It’s a Northern Territory number. Tyson’s pack is in Queensland.”

I glanced at Evin, who shook his head. “The number I phone is a Melbourne one.”

“So we have Tyson in the Northern Territory and the people holding your mate hostage in Melbourne. Meaning Tyson’s not alone in this.”

“We all knew that from the beginning,” Quinn commented. “Just as we all know who is behind this.”

I glanced at him. “We can’t move until we’ve rescued Evin’s mate. And a little concrete proof would be nice, too.” Certainly it’ll make it easier for Jack to issue a retribution order.

Or a death order.

Something within me shivered. I really didn’t want Blake dead, no matter what he’d done, but I might not have that choice anymore. I’d given him one chance already, and he’d thrown it back in my face.

And I had no doubt he’d keep at me until he achieved his aim: my death, and maybe even Rhoan’s.

We had a pack of our own to consider—we had a child on the way. It went beyond my and Rhoan’s safety now.

“We have two choices, then.” Quinn’s face was still impassive, but the sense of menace brewed like a storm around him. “We go after Tyson, or we hunt down those who have Evin’s mate.”

“If we go after Tyson, the game is up. Besides, such a move would only endanger Lyndal—Evin’s mate,” I said.

“Then we do a trace on the number Evin calls, and hit them before tomorrow night.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Jack wants us to solve the other case first.”

“You’re not the only guardian he has, Riley. Blake—and whoever else is behind this—needs to be stopped immediately. Otherwise, next time they might just settle for an assassin’s bullet.”

And as he’d already said, Jack didn’t want me dead.

I glanced at West. “Do you know if Tyson has any other spies in this town?”

West shook his head. “Not that I know of. Besides, it’d be overkill.”

If it meant their plans for my eventual end ran smoothly, I had no doubt that both Tyson and Blake would employ as much overkill as they thought necessary.

“Then you need to keep playing the game. Report on time, and don’t give anything away.”

West didn’t look happy, but I was betting he was smart enough to know he had little choice in the matter. “And if I do?”

“Then maybe you get to keep your job.”

As I spoke, a sliver of energy spun through the air. West blinked and his eyes went briefly lifeless—although if you weren’t watching him carefully, you wouldn’t even have noticed it.

What did you do? I asked, without looking at Quinn.

Just applied a little insurance. He won’t be able to warn Tyson even if he wanted to.

Good. I glanced at Harris. “I need to use your computer.”

He nodded and rose, walking across to a desk in the far corner of the room. I followed him across, watching as he typed in his ID and had his iris scanned.

“Okay,” he said, stepping back. “You’re ready to go.”

“Thanks.” I sat in the chair and scooted forward. A few key taps, several passwords, and an iris scan later, I was into the Directorate’s database. “What was that number again, Evin?”

He repeated it. I typed it in then hit SEARCH. As I waited for the results, I glanced up at Quinn. “How soon can your plane be ready to leave?”

“Turnaround is usually an hour.” He glanced at his watch. “We could be gone in twenty-five minutes, if need be.”

“Want to warn them, then?”

He smiled. “Already have. The pilot is telepathic.”

“Handy.” I glanced down as the search results flickered up on the screen. The number was listed as belonging to a house in Mickleham, which was an outlying area of Melbourne rather than one of the recognized suburbs, and made up of small farming subdivisions rather than high-density housing estates. It also wasn’t that far away from Essendon Airport, where Quinn usually landed his planes.

I rose. “Evin, you’ll need to stay here—”

“No.” He thrust to his feet, his expression belligerent. “I’m coming with you. I need to help—”

“The best way you can help,” Quinn said gently, “is by continuing the scam here. If they get the slightest idea that something has gone awry, then your mate’s life will be even more at risk. These men are dangerous, and they will do whatever they think is necessary to protect themselves.”

“This is what we do,” I added softly. “And we’re damn good at it. We will get her back safely.”

Which was a stupid thing to promise, given we had no idea what her situation was, but I couldn’t help it. I liked Evin—stepbrother or not—and I didn’t want to see him face the pain of losing a soul mate like I had.

One loss in the family was more than enough.

Evin glanced from Quinn to me then back again. His shoulders slumped. “Okay. But let me know the minute you’ve found her.”

“We will.” I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “And now to tell Jack.”

Quinn stepped forward. “I can—”

I held up a hand. “No. This is my battle.”

I spun around and walked into the cell area. The vamp’s door was open and Rhoan leaned casually against the door frame. He glanced at me. “Find out anything interesting?”

“His contact was Tyson.” I stopped and peered into the cell. Jack was sitting on a chair, and the vamp was upright on the concrete bed. They looked for all the world like they were in the middle of a staring contest, but the sweat beading the younger vamp’s forehead was evidence enough that something else was happening.

And that he was losing the battle.

“Meaning Blake definitely is behind it. Tyson wouldn’t spit without his big brother’s approval.”

“Tyson’s usurped the London pack in Cona Creek and made it his own.”

Rhoan’s expression was contemptuous. “He always was a lazy bastard. Should have guessed he’d steal a pack rather than make one of his own. We going after him?”

“‘We’ are not going anywhere,” Jack said, without taking his gaze from the other vamp. “Not until we finish here, anyway.”

I glanced at him. “Boss, I tracked down the number Evin phoned his reports into, and it’s a Melbourne number. We need to hit the address and rescue Evin’s mate as soon as possible.”

“Riley, the murders we’re investigating occur during the day, which means we’re limited in our guardian usage.”

Specifically, it meant there was Iktar, Rhoan, and myself. But there wasn’t anything I could do that Iktar and Rhoan couldn’t—other than talk to souls, and the reality was, we weren’t really getting that much information from said souls. These people were far too clever.

“What about a deal, then? Let Quinn and me go after Evin’s mate tonight, and then we’ll concentrate on solving the murders.”

“And Blake?” Rhoan asked.

I glanced at him. “Can wait until we have the time to work up a really good revenge.”

“The minute you free Evin’s mate, he’ll know the game is up.”

“Not if the guards are forced to believe she’s still there.”

He grimaced. “I don’t know—”

I touched his shoulder, squeezing gently. “We’ll deal with him. Just not yet.” I glanced at Jack. “Can we go?”

He glanced at me then, and his eyes held a hint of regret. It was the sort of look I imagined a parent got when their kids finally left the nest.

Maybe he realized that’s exactly what I was trying to do.

“Contact me the minute you free her. We’ll probably have more information about the murders by then.”

“Thanks, boss.” I squeezed my brother’s shoulder and turned to head back out into the main room, then hesitated and looked back at Jack. “Boss, you might want to talk to Harris before you leave.”

His concentration was back on the vamp, so his reply was almost absent. “What about?”

“About his ability to bring down helicopters with kinetic force. He’s also mind-blind. He could make a perfect replacement for Kade.”

Or better yet, for me.

He merely grunted. The vamp was sweating even more profusely, so Jack’s constant telepathic barrage was having an effect.

I winked at Rhoan then continued outside.

“Well?” Evin said, almost anxiously.

“We’re a go. We just need you two to keep relaying information and pretend everything is as it should be.”

Evin scrubbed a hand across his face. “He’ll expect me to be overwrought and anxious, and that certainly won’t be hard to fake.”

West didn’t say anything and he looked no happier than before, but even with Quinn’s restrictions in place, I very much doubted he’d do anything to jeopardize the operation. He might not love working in this town, but I had a suspicion he did love being a cop.

“I’ll phone the minute we have news. And Harris?” I smiled his way. “Thanks.”

A hint of amusement crinkled the corners of his bright eyes. “You’re welcome. And anytime you feel the need to find trouble, please try not to find it in my town.”

“Deal. But your life will quickly become boring without me.”

The amusement crinkling his eyes broke out across the rest of his face. “That I can deal with.”

I snorted in amusement and walked across to Quinn. He spun around and held out his arm. “Let’s go raise some hell.”

“S o,” I said, unbuckling the lap belt and walking over to the plane’s plush, well-appointed bar. “Given we can’t exactly plan our method of attack until we see what we’re up against, and we have a five-hour flight ahead of us, what do you suggest we do?”

He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I can think of one or two things,” he said, kissing the side of my neck.

His lips were so cool against my skin that I shivered. I hadn’t noticed it before—probably because I’d been so overjoyed to see him—but his body heat was decidedly down. He’d obviously been worrying more about me than feeding himself.

At least that was something easily remedied.

“Only one or two?” I said archly. “My dear vampire, I thought you had a better imagination than that.”

“Oh, I have. But given this is a five-hour flight, I don’t think we’ll have time for the rest of them.”

I laughed and turned around in his arms. “I’m so glad I mostly remember you again. So glad that damn truck didn’t squish you into tiny little pieces.”

“It’s hard to kill an Aedh.”

I raised a hand and lightly caressed the scar on the side of his beautiful face. “This suggests they came close.”

“But not close enough.” His lips captured mine and for a long, long time, there was very little sound.

When we finally came up for air, the rapid pounding of my heart was a cadence that filled the silence. I opened my eyes, stared into his. Saw the desire burning bright—desire that was both sexual and blood need. He was controlling both urges, but the second only just.

“Do you want to go into the bedroom?” he whispered, his teeth grazing my earlobe and sending a heated shiver through my entire body.

“I don’t care where we go, as long as you promise to ravish me senseless.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” He bent, swept me up in his arms, then carried me into the plane’s luxurious bedroom suite.

Once there, he stripped me. Slowly, seductively, one piece of clothing at a time, exploring and reacquainting himself with each piece of flesh as it was revealed. By the time I was naked, I was quivering with desire.

Even so, I took the time to undress him, letting my fingers roam across the strong planes of his body, remembering what I loved about it, exploring new scars.

Eventually, I kissed him. Whatever vestiges of control we had were totally and irreparably smashed by the force of that kiss, by the passion and love and sheer need behind it.

We fell onto the bed wrapped in each other’s arms, his flesh driving deep into mine. He began to move, and all I could do was move with him, savoring and enjoying the sensations flowing through me.

But it went far beyond the physical, because our minds were joined as intimately as our bodies. That was an even more glorious sensation, filled with warmth and love and intimacy, and it made every physical move sharper, deeper, more resonant and powerful. Made our lovemaking so incredible that I just wanted to cry.

And in that moment I knew, without a shred of doubt, that it was time to get real about our relationship. To commit, wholly and fully, to us.

Then his lips claimed mine again and the thought fled, lost to the pleasures new and old. His strokes became fierce, hungry thrusts that shook my entire body, and sweet pressure had begun to build low down in my body, quickly reaching boiling point.

We came together, his roar echoing across the silence, his body slamming into mine so hard the whole bed seemed to shake. His kisses became as fierce as his body, but as he poured himself into me, his mouth left mine, his teeth grazing my neck, but not taking. I’d already lost far too much blood for one day.

When I finally caught my breath again, I took his face between my palms and kissed him long and slow. “I think we both needed that.”

“Hell, yeah.”

He kissed me again, then rolled onto the bed beside me, and tried to gather me into his arms. I resisted, propping myself up with one hand so I could study him. In the soft light, his skin was golden and the scars down the left side of his body—the same side as his face—did little to detract from the beauty of it.

But it had been so close, no matter how blasé he was about it. And that only served to crystallize the decision I’d made.

“You have an extremely serious expression right at this moment,” he commented, lightly running a finger across my lips.

I kissed his fingertips, then said, “That’s because I have a very serious question for you.”

“What? Wait, let me guess—do I have enough food on this tin can to satisfy a hungry werewolf?”

“Well, no,” I said, amused. “Although that is a damn good question.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll always cater to your hungers,” he teased. “No matter what those hungers are.”

“For which I’m extremely grateful.”

“So you should be. What, then, is this oh-so-serious question?”

I hesitated. Not because I was uncertain or scared, but because I really wanted to savor the moment and relish the anticipation. “It really just requires a yes-or-no answer. Nothing too difficult.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So ask.”

I smiled and placed my hands over his. “Will you marry me, Quinn O’Conor?”