He’s only been surviving. Her magic can show him how to live.

Red Rock Pass, Book 3

After a decade under a corrupt alpha’s thumb, Dylan Gennaro is still reeling from the changes in his life: a new home, a new alpha, a pack at war. Even normal things like an ending relationship. Still, when he’s asked to work with an outcast witch, he agrees without hesitation. Maybe by protecting her, he’ll rediscover his own inner strength. If, indeed, it exists.

Sasha Wallace lost her mentor in a vicious attack that left her scarred in spirit as well as body. While she’s grateful for the refuge offered by the Red Rock alpha, it’s tough living with the pack’s suspicion. Even though—or maybe because—she’s willing to use her powers to help them fight their war. Except for Dylan. When she’s finally free to find a new home, he’ll be the only one she regrets leaving behind.

Their attraction is a balm to their wounded hearts, until their journey for knowledge brings them face to face with a terrifying vampire. Neither has the strength for this fight—but if they can let go of their pasts and trust each other, they might just be able to do it. Together.

Warning: Contains dangerous magical binding spells, a flannel-wearing vampire lumberjack, paranormal road-trip hijinks and a quietly brilliant werewolf willing to defy his society and his past to protect the witch he loves.

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They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

Sanctuary’s Price

Copyright © 2009 by Moira Rogers

ISBN: 978-1-60504-682-2

Edited by Anne Scott

Cover by Tuesday Dube

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2009

www.samhainpublishing.com

Sanctuary’s Price

Moira Rogers

Dedication

This is for Anne, who has always been Dylan’s biggest fan. We’d also like to extend special thanks to Donna Locklin and Cynthia Lin for helping us with some names.

Chapter One

By the time he managed to set fire to the damp wood in the dusty old fireplace, Dylan had resorted to giving himself half-hearted pep talks. “Could be worse. You could be dead. Could be back in Helena. Could be stuck listening to Bobby bitch about how they fucked up the Battlestar Galactica finale.”

The soggy wood in the fireplace smoked at him in agreement. The stench would have been bad enough to a human nose, but for a werewolf…

Dylan sighed and pushed himself to his feet. The rain that afternoon had drenched the stack of firewood out back, but he hadn’t thought to bring any of it inside before this evening. Not when the house was still so far from livable.

He’d had ample opportunity over the last month to make it so, but he’d gotten comfortable in Cindy’s house. Even when things hadn’t been entirely blissful, he’d had the luxury of a roof over his head and the knowledge there was plenty of time to renovate the rundown little house. Plenty of time to make it his.

He eyed the bedroll he’d begged from Brynn—the bag belonged to Joe, and was high quality, at least—and squared his shoulders. The house had four walls and a roof that mostly didn’t leak. The plumbing worked sometimes and it wasn’t so cold he’d freeze to death hunkered down in the sleeping bag.

Far from livable…but he’d make do. He always did.

With a feeble fire lit, Dylan turned his attention back to the scarred wooden table. The renovation plans he’d been working on had been shoved haphazardly to one side, leaving space for the sack Brynn had pushed on him along with the sleeping bag. Upending it on the table revealed two boxes of toaster pastries, a box of crackers, three cans of soda and a bag of licorice.

The sight made his chest ache even as he smiled. Just snack food, and probably the first things Brynn had put her hands on when she’d realized he had no intention of staying long enough to face any questions Joe might have about Dylan’s sudden change in residence. But Dylan had known Brynn for years, maybe even knew her better than her older sister did. Licorice and strawberry pastries—Brynn’s nervous comfort food. Something she clung to when life was overwhelming.

And badass warrior alpha wolf Joe Mitchell had obviously been doing his best to make sure she had anything she needed, no matter how silly those things were. It was sweet.

It sucked.

Guilt stabbed at him, and he snatched up the box of crackers and tore open the cardboard top. Brynn had gone through hell, and she had Joe. Her sister Abby had gone through hell, and she had Keith.

Dylan had a smoking fireplace and a toilet that didn’t flush consistently.

It really, really sucked.

The soft knock carried easily through the dead quiet of the house, but the door opened immediately. Gavin, Red Rock’s alpha wolf, stuck his head through the door. “Busy, Dylan?”

Even if he had been, he couldn’t have sent the man away. “No, come on in. I was just…” He held up the box. “Having a snack.”

Gavin arched one graying eyebrow as he walked in. “I went to Cindy’s. She said you were over here, roughing it. Reliving your Boy Scout days?”

Dylan fought a wince. No word of Cindy being upset, no indication she’d said anything more damning. In a way, it was almost worse. Things hadn’t been great with Cindy, but she’d been important. It would be nice to think he’d been important too.

Quit your bitching, whiner. It had been the motto in his apartment, words repeated in a wry voice by werewolves too low in the pack to be anything but punching bags for unbalanced alphas. He repeated the words silently now and felt that same wry amusement. It could always be worse.

Gavin still watched him expectantly, so he forced a smile. “Figured I might as well get to work on this house, if I want to fix it up any time this decade.”

The alpha hummed and jerked his head toward the hearth. “Mind if I sit? I need to ask a favor.”

Dylan eyed the dirty hearth and felt a twinge of self-consciousness. “Sure. Want a soda?”

“No, thanks. Sammie’s expecting me back soon.” Gavin sat down slowly, braced his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. “It’s about the witch, Sasha.”

For one terrible second, Dylan thought Cindy had complained to Gavin. But their fight over Sasha had been days ago. Besides, Gavin looked too worried for this to be something so petty. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, as far as I know. Mostly, anyway.” He ran a hand through his already-messy hair. “Trying to help. Trying to stay busy.”

Sometimes when he closed his eyes he saw Sasha, eyes blank with fear and the pale skin of her neck bearing ugly bruises in the shape of Alan Matthews’ fingers. The instincts that had gotten him into so much trouble with Cindy stirred, tingeing his words with a concern he couldn’t hide. “Brynn said she’s been leaving your house a little. Going to sit with Abby and Keith sometimes?”

Gavin hesitated. “Taking care of chores while Abby takes care of Keith. It’s hard for Abby to let people near him.”

Dylan had heard as much from Cindy, whose visits to Keith’s bedside left her tense and exhausted. “That’s good though. I mean, that Sasha’s been getting out at all, after everything that happened to her.”

“Indeed.” Gavin rose and paced a few steps. “It’s a lot to ask, this favor. Sasha’s learning our ways, but the death of her mentor has left her without a teacher. Most of the wolves here who could teach her can’t get within ten feet without making her cringe. But you…” Faded blue eyes focused on Dylan’s face. “Sasha trusts you.”

It was wrong to feel that thrill at Gavin’s words, to feel so proud of having someone look at him and see safety, a protector. But after a decade of being everyone’s joke in Helena, Sasha’s blind trust was intoxicating.

Which was exactly what Cindy had accused him of being when they’d fought over Sasha. Intoxicated. Drunk on male ego and the thrill of someone needing him. Words hurled in anger that she probably hadn’t meant, but they still stung.

Gavin’s eyes saw too damn much, so Dylan turned away. “I’ll do anything I can to help, but I’m not exactly an expert on our ways. You of all people know that.”

“I do know that. But you’re picking it up fast, Dylan. It might be good for Sasha, in a way, if she felt you two were taking the journey together.”

“Maybe.” Noncommittal, and pointless. He’d do it. If it had been any other person, he would have done it because he owed Gavin everything. But it was Sasha, scared, trembling Sasha, and just the thought of her turning that trusting gaze on him stirred something instinctive inside him.

He heard Gavin stand. “I’ll understand if you can’t do it, you know. If it’s going to cause problems for you.”

“I don’t think Cindy’s inviting me back.” It was supposed to be a casual statement, maybe even a joke, and he was surprised by the raw pain in his voice.

The heavy weight of Gavin’s hand landed on his shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I had something to say that would make it easier, but… All I can tell you is that you’ll make it through this, just like everything else.”

Dylan closed his eyes and soaked in the comfort Gavin offered, the strength of an alpha who protected his pack, who sheltered them with his strength and compassion. In Helena there had been no comfort in the pack. Survival, maybe. Camaraderie from shared suffering and shared secrets. But nothing like the complicated but reassuring dance of protection and obedience that he’d found in Red Rock.

It made the idea of him being the one to teach Sasha even more absurd. “What things does she need to learn? Because if it’s the social shit, I can’t do it. I’m still lost.”

“No, we’ll take care of that.” Gavin tapped his fingers absently against the edge of the table. “We have a room in the apartment above the bar, a library of sorts with records and history volumes. Werewolf lore, essentially. Some magical histories too, though not many.”

It felt like meddling. “Did Abby tell you?”

Gavin cocked his head. “Tell me what?”

The confusion seemed honest, and it brought with it a rush of longing. God, he’d missed books. Studying. The dusty-smelling manuscripts in the stacks at the college library, ancient stories of history and legend that he’d pored through on Friday nights…

Ten years ago. When he’d been twenty-one and human, and his reputation had been that of an up-and-coming scholar of history instead of a passable carpenter.

Dylan clenched his fingers around the box of crackers, and the thin cardboard buckled under his grip. “I used to like to study things. History, mostly. But it wasn’t really considered a viable contribution to the pack.”

It took Gavin a moment to answer. “Well, it is here. If you can handle the lore, you’ll be doing more than your share already. Twice that if you and Sasha can manage to determine how our legends and hers dovetail.”

“Sure.” It would be better than sitting out here by himself all day long, but the house wasn’t going to fix itself while he spent his days reading through old history books. He glanced around the pathetic little living room. “Might need to hold off a few days, though, at least until this place is livable.”

“Why don’t you just stay in the apartment? Rain should last through the week, anyway.”

“Are you—”

The walkie-talkie on Gavin’s belt crackled to life, and his wife’s voice spilled out. “Gavin, you need to come back here now. Bring Dylan. Cindy’s already on her way. Justine just showed up and she’s in bad, bad shape.”

Gavin snatched up the radio as he turned toward the door. “On our way. What happened, Sammie?”

“Damned if I know, baby. She’s babbling and I hope to hell she’s wrong, because she’s talking about vampires.”

Dylan stumbled. “Vampires?”

“Damn it.” Gavin shoved the radio back onto his belt and caught Dylan’s arm. “Thought there weren’t any left around these parts. Come on. We have to hurry.”

“Shit.” He found his footing and moved to keep up with Gavin. “Justine—does she mean our Justine? The one who lives in Helena?”

The alpha’s jaw hardened. “Yeah.”

She’d always been an anomaly in the Helena pack, a woman who stood outside the harsh realities that dominated the lives of most of the pack’s females. In his ten years in the pack, Dylan had seen one man lay a finger on Justine. That finger—and the arm attached to it—had ended up torn from the man’s body. Their late and unlamented pack leader had always favored the swift and brutal method of teaching lessons to his pack.

And I emptied a clip into his head a few weeks ago. Dylan could live all of the hundred and twenty years attributed to Gavin and not accomplish anything else as satisfying as killing Alan Matthews.

Except doing so had obviously revoked whatever protection kept Justine safe within the Helena pack. Dylan refused to feel guilty as he followed at Gavin’s heels—not to the alpha’s house, as he might have expected, but instead to the large bar that seemed to serve as Red Rock’s unofficial meeting spot.

A crowd had gathered outside the building, but the way cleared as Gavin stomped toward them. “Where are they?”

A man Dylan vaguely recognized flashed them a worried look. “Sam and Joe took her into the back office.”

Which explained why Joe hadn’t been home while Brynn had been busy loading Dylan down with snack foods and camping supplies. Gavin started forward, but Dylan hesitated, unsure what part he was supposed to play in a meeting of some of the strongest wolves in the pack.

Gavin made it two steps into the bar before turning. “Now, Dylan.”

The office door hit the wall, and Gavin growled. “A binding ceremony?” he demanded. “Sammie, have you lost your mind?”

The bulk of Joe’s body blocked Justine from sight but, from the worried look on the man’s face, Dylan surmised the situation was bad. He eased into the office and closed the door just as Samantha’s temper evidenced itself in a wave of power terrifying enough to make him cringe.

Gavin’s wife was every inch as tall as Dylan and looked forty of her reputed seventy years. Before coming to Red Rock, Dylan had never met an alpha female; their life expectancy tended to be short in Helena, a fact that had spurred his desperation to get Abby out of town.

It was hard to imagine anyone threatening Samantha. She turned to glare at her husband, her eyes dark as she slammed a white pillar candle down on the desk. “She’s going to die if someone doesn’t do something fast, and I’m not watching that happen.”

Gavin spun and caught Dylan’s gaze. “Go to our house and get Sasha. Hurry.”

Dylan reached for the doorknob, but froze when Sam’s voice lashed through the air. “Wait. She’s been through enough.”

Caught between conflicting instincts, Dylan turned a pleading look on Joe, asking silently who he was supposed to obey.

Before Joe could speak, Gavin’s roar cut through the quiet, along with a lash of power that left Dylan fighting the urge to back into a corner. “Goddamnit, go!”

Gavin was more than capable of handling his wife. Dylan wrenched open the door and ran.

The knock at the door was light and even, but Sasha still nearly dropped her bowl of popcorn. Gavin and Sam were both gone, and all she had to do was go to the door and tell their visitor. They’re not here. I’m—

I’m alone.

Her hands shook as she set down the bowl and walked to the front door. Glancing through the window, she caught a glimpse of dark clothing and short red hair.

Dylan. She relaxed and opened the door. “Gavin and Sam aren’t here.”

The tension around his eyes brought back her nervousness. “I know. Gavin sent me. I think he needs your help.”

Her heart in her throat, Sasha reached for the borrowed jacket hanging on the rack by the door. “What’s wrong?”

“A woman from the Helena pack showed up looking for help. Samantha said—” Dylan broke off and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Well, shit. I don’t know what’s going on, except Sam’s talking about vampires and Gavin’s…upset.”

Sasha swore as she pushed past him. “She was attacked by a vampire?”

Dylan dragged the door shut before hurrying to catch up with her. “So you’re saying there are vampires? Because I was living a Dracula-free existence until about ten minutes ago.”

“There aren’t many.” Most of the ones she’d met would never have risked a fight with a wolf. It was little better than suicide. If this one had won… Her hands shook. “You said the woman was alive?”

“Yeah. Sam said she was in bad shape, and it looked like she was getting stuff ready to try a binding ceremony.”

Sharing energy through a bond with another wolf might buy the woman some time, but the sickness that came with a vampire’s bite would affect the other wolf as well. “It’s not the safest plan.”

Dylan shifted closer to her until his arm brushed hers with every step, and too late she noticed a man watching them from the shadow of a nearby building. His gaze felt unfriendly, but he looked away when Dylan fixed a pointed glare on him.

After a tense moment, the man dropped back, disappearing around the building. Dylan kept walking as if nothing had happened. “Tell me about the vampires. What happens to someone who gets bitten?”

“My mentor said a vampire’s bite can kill a wolf slowly, like a poison.”

He seemed to mull that over as they passed two more houses and slipped into the alley between the motel and the general store. “Is it a physical thing? Like actual poison? Or something magical?”

She wished she knew. “I’m not sure. It could be either. I’ve never seen—”

Her breath cut off as they came out of the alley to face a gathered crowd. Sasha fixed her gaze on the bar’s door and tried to ignore the wolves’ chilly stares. They didn’t trust her, but it wasn’t personal.

It didn’t make it easier. The crowd’s distrust evidenced itself in prickly power that flowed from the strongest ones. Dylan’s hand came up to rest against her lower back, and his power was steady and unwavering.

He kept her moving forward as he prompted her to continue talking. “You’ve never actually seen a vampire? Or just never seen someone who’s been bitten?”

It took her a moment to speak through the fear closing her throat. “I’ve met vampires, and I’ve seen bitten humans. Just not wolves.”

Maritza’s voice echoed in her head as they pushed through the door and made their way to the back hall of the bar. A vampire can feed on a werewolf’s magic, but the beast will usually fight it. It makes them feverish, sick. They often die.

A throbbing wall of tense magic spilled out of the office, and Sasha stumbled. “I can’t—” She swallowed her own words and gripped Dylan’s hand.

“It’s okay.” Dylan rubbed his thumb over her fingers in a soothing gesture before tugging a little on her hand. “It’s just Gavin and Sam being pissy at each other.”

“Okay.” You can do this, Sasha. “Okay.”

An anguished moan met them in the doorway. Joe Mitchell stood at the end of Gavin’s desk, restraining a pretty, petite blonde lying on the desk.

Sasha had expected blood and rent flesh, some sign of a struggle or fight. Instead, dozens of rows of small puncture wounds marked the insides of the woman’s arms. Her stomach turned, and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Had the woman let herself be bitten? “What’s going on?”

Samantha turned, and the friendly, encouraging look Sasha had come to expect from the older woman was gone. Fury stood plainly in her face, and her entire body was rigid. “They’ve had her since the day after Matthews died. Five weeks. Justine’s been my contact inside the Helena pack for more than a decade, and someone wanted to find out just how much she knew about us.”

In spite of her fear, Sasha stepped forward and touched the raised welts on Justine’s arm. The bites were infected and hot. “What could a group of vampires want to know so badly?”

“Not a group. One vampire.” Sam returned her gaze to Justine, and power twisted dizzily around the room as the alpha reached down and cupped Justine’s cheek with a whispered word. The power soothed the woman momentarily, and her struggles reduced to soft whimpers. “She’s been in and out of consciousness. I can’t keep her calm,” Sam whispered. “This is the fourth time I’ve had to quiet her. I want you to bind her to me so it isn’t so difficult.”

If Sam hadn’t spent the last few weeks telling her over and over to trust herself, Sasha would have stayed put. Instead, she moved to the end of the desk and laid her hands over Justine’s chest. “Step back.”

Joe let go of the woman’s shoulders, but Sam barely edged out of the way. Sasha waited until Sam let go before bending her head and calling forth the magic that slept inside her.

The calming spell was simple, one of the first an apprentice could master during her training, and she whispered the words confidently now. She felt it begin, the swathe of comforting, quieting magic that would grow and envelop Justine.

The spell complete, Sasha straightened and shook her head. “You can’t bind yourself to this woman. She’s dying.”

Sam’s jaw tightened. “I can give her more time. Maybe enough time for someone to find a way to save her.”

Sasha glanced at Gavin. “It’s dangerous. If the bond isn’t broken before—”

“I’ll do it,” Gavin interrupted. “I’m stronger.”

“Barely!” Sam took a deep breath and moderated her tone. “You may be a little stronger, but you’re the alpha and we’re at war. You’re not expendable.”

“Damn it, Sammie, neither are you!”

The woman on the desk didn’t react to the surge of power in the room, but the other wolves did. Sasha caught Dylan’s gaze, and she could feel his tension clear across the room. “Isn’t there someone else?”

It was clear from his expression that he didn’t know. “Keith’s not completely healed yet, and Cindy—” His tiny hesitation made her remember the doctor was his lover. He wouldn’t want to put her in danger. He cleared his throat. “She’s busy trying to keep Abby sane since she won’t bind herself to anyone else. And Joe’s got his hands full with Brynn.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam said, her quiet voice cutting through their conversation. She spoke to Sasha, but her gaze stayed locked on her husband. “Gavin knows there’s no one else, but he doesn’t deal well with me putting myself in harm’s way. So I’ll compromise. One week. If we can’t find a way in one week, I’ll let her go.”

Justine might have a week left, if she could draw on Sam’s strength, but it could take months of research to find some esoteric spell or therapy to help her.

Still, Sam was willing to risk it. Sasha closed her eyes. “This will hurt.” With those words, she drew Sam’s energy toward and into herself, shuddering when the full force of it hit her.

It was intoxicating, this magic, but it felt foreign in her body, and it wasn’t hers to keep. She murmured the incantation and laid her hands on Justine’s head.

The pain must have been intense, but Sam did nothing more than grunt softly as the bond settled into place. The scrape of boots on the floor and a muffled curse were the only sign something more had happened. Sasha opened her eyes in time to see Gavin catch Sam as she listed forward, deep lines of pain etched on her face.

Dylan appeared at Sasha’s shoulder, so close she could feel the slightest hint of his aura even though he wasn’t quite touching her. “Are you all right?”

She fought the urge to lean into his strength. “I’m fine. But I need to get to work.” She needed to get upstairs to the library, to the collection of records and histories Gavin had been telling her about the last few weeks. “Can I do anything else, Gavin?”

He waved her away, one arm still holding his wife. “Joe and I will take care of Sammie and Justine. Dylan, can you?”

It didn’t seem to be a full question, but Dylan answered it nonetheless. “Yes. Of course. Should I stay here tonight?”

The alpha was already headed for the door as Joe gathered Justine in his arms. “If you’ll bring Sasha home when she’s finished.”

“Of course,” he repeated. His hand fell away and he hurried to open the door before Gavin reached it.

Sam stopped walking and turned to meet Sasha’s gaze. “Are you okay here with Dylan?” Her voice sounded hoarse and exhausted, but she ignored Gavin’s impatience. “We can have the books brought to the house if it will be easier.”

Sasha gave her a reassuring smile. “Dylan and I will be fine. Don’t worry so much. Just go rest.”

“Okay. And Sasha… I won’t blame you if you can’t save her. But I would have blamed myself if I hadn’t given you a chance to try.”

The pained promise made the hair on the back of Sasha’s neck lift. “I’ll try like hell, Sam. I swear.”

Gavin nodded once, his normally light eyes dark with worry, and hurried out. Joe followed close behind him, though he spared a gently encouraging look for Sasha.

When she and Dylan were alone, she rubbed her hands over the thick fabric covering her arms. She began to shiver, a delayed reaction to the loss of the energy she’d expended. “How are you at speed-reading, Dylan?” she tried to joke.

“Actually, I’m good at it.” He reached down and tugged his navy blue sweatshirt over his head, revealing a plain white T-shirt and a leather shoulder holster. “Put this on until I can see about warming it up upstairs.”

“No, you should keep it. It’s not—” Her teeth chattered. “It won’t help. It’s the magic. It drains me, and I just have to rest.”

Dylan held out the sweatshirt. “I may not be as obnoxiously overbearing as Joe or Keith, but I’m not going to be able to concentrate with you shivering and looking miserable. So humor me while we find you some food and build up a fire. Please.”

Sasha bit her tongue and pulled the warm fleece over her head. “I’m not hungry, but thanks for the shirt.”

“I don’t think the kitchen upstairs is stocked,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “But I know where Olivia hides the cookies down here. And I haven’t had anything but crackers since lunch.” He grinned at her, crooked and a little mischievous. “Come on. Ransack the pantry with me.”

“Okay, but…” She glanced at the desk and the pile of items that had obviously been swept quickly off of it and onto the floor. “After that, you’re helping me with research.”

“Until you pass out,” he promised. “Hell, until we both pass out.”

Sasha followed him out into the darkened bar. She knew from her time in Red Rock that it wouldn’t normally close down, even after an injured refugee showed up looking for sanctuary. “Did Olivia go home?”

“Guess so. People were starting to leave when I went to get you. Anything that freaks Sam out is scary enough to terrify the shit out of the rest of us, I guess.” He smiled again, this time in obvious encouragement. “Except you. But you know more about this stuff than we do.”

“I’m scared.” The second she said the words, she wanted to take them back. Weakness was embarrassing under the best of circumstances. With wolves, it had almost cost Sasha her life.

Dylan just shrugged one shoulder and pushed open the door that led to the bar’s kitchen. “Smart people usually are. We know how bad things can get.”

“But we can’t stop those bad things from happening.”

“Not yet.” He moved past the large stainless-steel refrigerator and reached up to open a cupboard high above the industrial sink. “But we keep trying. There’s a lot to be said for that, you know, Sasha. It’s easy to keep trying when you’re Keith or Abby and don’t have any other choice. The rest of us have to work at it.”

“So I keep telling myself.” A stool stood in the corner, and Sasha pulled it closer to the counter and watched him. “You don’t scare me.” It shouldn’t have been surprising; the energy radiating from Dylan was gentle, constant. It rarely flared, and he’d always been careful not to upset or alarm her. “You don’t scare me at all.”

“Good.” He pulled a battered tin from the top shelf and pried off the lid to reveal a stack of chocolate-chip cookies. “I’m not all that scary anyway.”

Sasha touched the raised pink lines traversing her cheek. “I guess not.”

He glanced up at her, his gaze focusing on the scars instead of her eyes. The edge of the cookie tin bent under his fingers, but his voice stayed steady. “Hey. I’m here, and I’m armed. No one’s going to hurt you, okay?”

It had been weeks since the last attack on Red Rock…and the night Alan Matthews had threatened her. The bruises had faded, and she’d managed to stop flinching so damn much. But what stayed with her, hazy but unmistakable, was a snapshot of memory: Dylan, walking through the streets with her cradled in his arms.

Now, his distress made her chest ache. “That’s not what I meant.” It hadn’t even occurred to her to worry that Dylan couldn’t protect her if something happened.

“We’re not all monsters.” Dylan sounded like he might be trying to convince himself more than her. He set the cookie tin on the counter in front of her in obvious, silent command before turning to the refrigerator. “Tell me more about vampires. I still can’t believe they actually exist.”

She took a cookie because he expected it. “There’s not much to tell, really. They’re as different as wolves, or people, for that matter. I’ve met some vampires who were perfectly civil, and others who were feral. They mostly just drink blood and live a long time.”

Dylan disappeared behind the fridge door and she heard him shifting things around on shelves. “That’s nuts. Man, I told Abby there weren’t any vampires. I guess that teaches me not to act like I get this shit even after ten years.”

He looked to be in his midtwenties, about her age. If he’d only been a wolf for a decade, he probably wasn’t much older than that. “I got the idea from Gavin that the Helena pack wasn’t focused on educating new wolves.”

A snort answered that question. “Depends on your definition of ‘educate’, I guess. Guys like me, we’re around for tithes and cannon fodder. The only thing my pack tried to teach me was my place in life as everyone’s punching bag.”

The ache in her chest deepened. “I’m sorry, Dylan.”

He finally resurfaced from the depths of the refrigerator with enough cold cuts to make a dozen sandwiches. He shrugged as he kicked the door shut. “Could have been worse. I could have been Abby or Brynn. Or Justine.”

Just because others had suffered didn’t mean he hadn’t. “Maritza—my mentor—said we’d have to work with the wolves to make sure people like Alan Matthews were taken out of power. The alpha who had her killed disagreed.”

Dylan dumped the food on the counter and studied her face. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to, but I don’t mind listening.”

She wondered what he would say if she did open up, if she told him how she’d watched Maritza die, how the wolves had told her she was next. If he knew how many scars she carried under her clothes.

She bit her lip. “Another time, maybe, with beer and pretzels. We have work to do tonight.”

“That we do.” He leveled a look on her that was every bit as stern as Sam at her worst. “And you’re going to eat before we do it, because I know how hungry expending power makes me. You’re just going to have to humor me.”

There was something almost pleading beneath his stubborn expression, and Sasha caved. “I like corned beef and Swiss cheese.”

Relief flashed in his eyes. “Get ready for the best sandwich you’ve ever had.”

***

When Dylan lifted Sasha, she stirred and looked up at him, her dark blue eyes unfocused. “What is it?”

“Shh.” He’d tried to ease her out of the chair without waking her, but now he swung her up into his arms. “You need some rest.”

She didn’t argue. “I can walk.”

He didn’t doubt it, but it felt nice having her snuggled against his chest. Not necessarily in a physical way, though a certain male appreciation was inevitable, but nice on a deeper instinctive level. Taking care of Brynn had felt right in the same way.

He shifted her closer as he started toward the apartment’s small bedroom. “I can put you down if you really want, but you promised to humor me. Consider it a lesson in soothing werewolf instincts.”

“Okay.” Sasha rested her head on his shoulder. “Did you find anything?”

His chest felt tight, and that stabbing guilt returned, along with Cindy’s angry words. He shoved them away and tried to concentrate on her question, and not on how good it felt to simply hold another person. “Not much more of use. I’ve put aside a few books that look hopeful but aren’t in English. I think one might be Gaelic. Another is definitely Latin, and my Latin was never very good.”

One small hand curled around the back of his neck. “Mine is decent. Does Gavin read Gaelic?”

“We’ll have to ask him.” Her hair smelled like the shampoo Sam used, but Sam always smelled like wolf and the woods and Gavin underneath it. Sasha smelled like old books and a little bit like Dylan himself, thanks to the sweatshirt she’d spent the evening in. The scent stirred something a lot deeper than friendly companionship. Shit. Rein it in. Rein it the fuck in.

“Mmm, tomorrow.” Her breath tickled his neck. “Thank you for being here, Dylan.”

He was so beyond screwed. “No problem, honey. Listen, I’m going to tuck you into bed, and I’ll be out on the couch if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” She laughed softly. “You’re always carrying me places.”

“Uh-huh. I’m your very own knight in shining armor.”

He lowered her to the bed, and she gazed up at him with gentle eyes that held no humor or mockery. “All you need is a gallant white horse.”

Dylan covered another of those painful twinges in his chest with a teasing smile. “Werewolves and horses don’t get along so well.”

“Guess you’re stuck carrying me, then.” She sat up and brushed her coppery hair back from her face as she kicked off her shoes. “Good night.”

“Night, Sasha.” She seemed awake enough to get herself under the covers, but he knew he’d be checking back to make sure. Just like he’d watched her all evening for signs of hunger or fatigue. Like how he’d looked forward to finding some scrap of interesting lore in the books he’d been reading, just for the chance to watch her eyes light up.

So very, very screwed.

He backed out of the bedroom and pulled the door shut behind him. A quiet cough drew his attention, and he turned to find Gavin leaning against the open doorway. “Sammie was worried, so I told her I’d check on you two.”

He was over thirty, and too damn old to blush because he’d gotten caught tiptoeing out of a woman’s bedroom. “Sasha’s exhausted. And I’m sleeping out here, on the couch.” Yeah, that doesn’t sound defensive at all.

Gavin just shrugged one shoulder. “Where else would you sleep?”

Dylan tried to figure out if Gavin was teasing him, but the alpha’s face was inscrutable. “Better than the floor,” he said finally, opting for a cautious route. “I was going to find a walkie-talkie in the office and let you and Sam know.”

“Mmm. Want me to take her home, or will you be fine with her here?”

“She’s pretty wiped out, but Sam would probably feel better if she was back at your place.” He wouldn’t even take it personally. Sam couldn’t help herself any more than Keith and Abby and Joe could when it came to Brynn. Stronger wolves trusted no one but themselves when it came to the people in their care. They sure the hell didn’t trust people like him.

But Gavin shook his head. “Sammie will be glad to know you’re here with Sasha. You’ll take care of her.”

Gavin’s confidence was a reminder that he wasn’t just another midpack wolf. He was the town’s newest folk hero, the subordinate wolf who had defied his corrupt alpha not once but twice, the second time with a bullet between the eyes.

And if he’d done it even a year earlier, so many lives could have been spared. Compliments on his supposed courage grated on Dylan’s nerves when the truth was far more chilling—anyone could be brave when he had nothing to lose.

Except now you have something to lose. It took everything in him not to glance back over his shoulder at the door. “I’ll take care of her.”

“I know.” The alpha’s answer came easily, but he didn’t leave. “How did it go tonight?”

“You’ve got a lot of books in there.” And no discernible system of organization. “I was actually thinking about seeing if Brynn felt up to helping us sort them into some kind of system. She used to be great at those things. But I was worried…”

“That she still needs time to adjust. I understand.” Gavin’s gaze sharpened. “How did Sasha fare?”

“With the research?”

“With you.”

Dylan stiffened. “I’m not that inappropriate, Gavin.”

The alpha’s voice was mild. “I didn’t think for a second you were. But I wondered how far Sasha’s trust extended.” He walked in and crossed the small living room with slow steps. “Do you know what happened to her?”

His eyes flickered to the bedroom door, and he couldn’t stop the image of the way her fingers had brushed the scars on her cheek. Abby and Brynn had both been attacked, but werewolves rarely bore scars from anything short of magical weapons. Hell, his own body was proof enough of that.

But Sasha… For the first time Dylan wondered what other scars she might have, scars that wouldn’t be so obvious. “I know that she was attacked, and her teacher died. And that Alan roughed her up the night I killed him.”

“Magic is useful. Matthews would have kept her.” Gavin cleared his throat. “It’s what the other alpha planned to do, I think. He killed Maritza because she was too strong to control. Sasha, on the other hand, has power and training, but not too much of either.”

Dylan’s hands clenched. He knew all too well what came next. Women who were useful had been Alan’s favorite prey. Turn them, break them, use them. He’d seen it dozens of times. “Keith got there in time, though.” Please let him have gotten there in time.

“Keith said they had orders to hurt but not bite her.” For a few seconds, he seemed far away. Then his eyes cleared. “Yeah, he got there in time. So she came here with some scratches…and more terror than I’ve seen in a while.”

“She trusts me,” Dylan whispered. “I don’t know why, but she trusts me.”

Gavin leaned on the back of the worn sofa with a pensive, almost worried expression. “I understand needing to be needed, Dylan, maybe more than most. But if it’s not Sasha who makes you feel these things—if it could be someone, anyone, else—” The alpha scrubbed his hands over his face. “Do you see what I’m asking?”

“I’m not—” He stopped himself before he ended up snapping at the alpha. “Have you talked to Cindy, or am I just obviously a man with an ego problem?”

“Neither. But I’ve been around a lot of years.” He sighed and shook his head. “Never mind. I guess I got it wrong. Not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”

It was an out, and somehow it made Dylan feel less cornered. He exhaled and moderated his tone enough to sound casual, or at least less defensive. “Are you asking if I can tell the difference between instincts and interest?”

“You’re smart. You can tell the difference. What I’m asking you for is another favor.”

Dylan tried not to tense. “Okay.”

“I’m asking you to be sure before—” He cut off and cocked his head. Dylan heard it a moment later, the soft sound of the box springs shifting and then bare feet on the hardwood floor.

He’d already taken a step toward the door before he realized he’d moved. He jerked to a halt and refused to look at Gavin as he lifted his voice enough to carry through the door. “You okay, Sasha?”

The door swung open. “I heard voices.” Her gaze slipped past him to land on Gavin, and her eyes widened as her heart began to thump faster. “Is it Sam? Justine?”

“Justine’s better. Resting.” Gavin’s voice was low and even. “Sammie was worried you’d be pushing yourself too hard tonight. I told her I’d check on you.”

She stepped forward and stopped beside Dylan, her arm barely brushing his. “We’re tired, but fine.”

The hard, too-fast beat of her heart stirred an instinctive need to touch her. Soothe her. He swallowed hard and indulged himself under the guise of smoothing a tangled strand of her hair. “You should still be resting, though.”

“I thought something might be wrong.” Her fingers grazed his.

Gavin’s pause was almost imperceptible. “I’d better get back. Do you want to stay here, Sasha, or come home with me?”

Her eyes met Dylan’s. “I should go so you won’t have to sleep on the couch.”

He bit back the urge to protest only because he knew in his heart she’d be safer in the alpha’s house than in the apartment with him. “The couch is probably more comfortable than where I planned on sleeping tonight. If you ever need to stay here, don’t worry about me.”

“You never know with late-night research sessions.” She hesitated and pulled his sweatshirt over her head. “I left my jacket downstairs. It’ll be warm enough. Thanks, Dylan.”

The heavy cotton carried their combined scents, and Dylan struggled not to let his wolf’s sudden interest show. “Any time, Sasha.”

Gavin watched him as she walked out and headed down the stairs. “Will we see you at the house tomorrow, Dylan?”

Dylan was too smart to think it was a question. “What time should I be there?”

“Lunch. Olivia will cook.” The alpha stepped out but paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Have a good night, son.”

Not even the fond endearment could completely ease the tension that filled Dylan as he closed the door. It took a few moments to identify the feeling as the wolf’s unease. He’d learned the hard way over the past decade to squash any instincts that rose inside him, doubly so when they pertained to women. In Helena feelings like that had been a quick way to put a woman’s life at risk.

But you’re not in Helena anymore. His fingers clenched around the sweatshirt as he fought the urge to pull it over his head, just to appease the wolf with Sasha’s scent tangled up with his.

He definitely wasn’t in Helena anymore.

Chapter Two

Sasha’s vision blurred, and her hand trembled on Justine’s. She tried to hold the cleansing spell just a little longer, but the magic slipped through her fingers, dissolving into nothing. “Any change?”

“No.” Dylan’s voice sounded apologetic, and almost as tired as she felt. “I thought for a second maybe…”

“Damn it.” Frustration gnawed at her. “Damn it all, anyway.” It was the third cleansing they’d tried in as many days, each one more aggressive than the last.

And each one a spectacular failure.

“I don’t understand.” Sasha rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. “It should be helping, at least a little.”

“Hey.” Dylan circled the bed and touched her shoulder, his fingers tightening for just a moment in a supportive squeeze. “We’re going to figure it out, Sasha. We are.”

The contact felt good, and her muscles tensed before she could command them not to. “Right. So we need to get back to work.” Her jacket lay on a chair beside the bed, and she snatched it up. “I’m going to the library.”

“Sasha. You need to stop for a few hours.”

Four days of what felt like wasted effort made her begrudge stopping, even to eat or sleep. “You do what you need to do.” It would give her a few hours free of the distraction Dylan had begun to pose. “I just want to check a few things.”

He shook his head. “If you’re going to the apartment, I’m going with you.”

“No, Dylan. I need—” She needed time alone. Time to get her head straight and stop thinking about him, and to find a way to save Justine and Sam. “I need a drink.”

“Okay.” He offered her his hand along with a hint of a smile. “Let’s go to the bar. Brynn told me that she’s going to try to get out of the house tonight. She could use a familiar face, I bet.”

The bar had been packed when they’d left the upstairs apartment. Most of the people in it, wolf or human, only stared at her, whether in curiosity or hostility. The stares reminded her that she didn’t belong in Red Rock, that she was an outsider.

The more time she spent with Dylan, the more she needed that reminder.

It didn’t help that he treated her with an offhand, casual fondness that could so easily be mistaken for something more. Sometimes the stares that followed them were more assessing than hostile, the suspicions so blatant Sasha could almost hear the thoughts.

He seemed oblivious, though. “Gavin?”

“Not tonight. I can’t.” Sasha couldn’t bear to see his face when she told him she’d failed yet again. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Please, Dylan.”

Dylan released her. “Can you wait for me downstairs? I’ll let him know we’re going to have another late research night. Otherwise Sam will worry.”

She was still a little weak from the magic, so she made her way down the stairs carefully. The main floor of the house seemed quiet without Sam crashing around in the kitchen or yelling for Gavin to take out the trash. Sasha shivered inside her jacket and tried to stay still as she waited for Dylan, but her nerves were raw. She felt on edge, almost twitchy.

It seemed like an eternity before she heard the whisper of his sneakers on the stairs behind her. “You ready?”

“Are you sure you want to go?” The words hurt, but she forced them out anyway. “Spending time with me can’t be helping your social life much.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “If you had decided to stay here for the night, I probably would have gone and worked on my house alone in the dark. Not much of a swinging social life.”

“I guess I’m keeping you from your renovations too.”

“That’s not—” Dylan’s friendly expression vanished. “Are you sick of me? If you’re sick of me, say it, Sasha. I won’t be upset.”

It was so far from the truth that she laughed. “No. But people around here don’t like me very much, especially after what happened the night the Helena pack invaded.” She’d saved Keith’s life, she knew that much. Still, half the people in town were terrified of her, of her magic, and the other half only seemed disgusted. “That’s what I meant.”

“Well, screw them. Come and hang out with us. Brynn could use someone around who’s not being polite to her because they’re scared shitless of Joe.” Dylan pulled open the door. “She probably knows how you’re feeling, you know.”

Most of the pack wouldn’t trust a wolf of the full moon, no matter the circumstances. “Yes, she probably does.” Sasha avoided his gaze. “Can we talk about things that don’t matter? I don’t want to think about the ones that do, at least for a while.”

“Sure. We can talk about anything you want.” He tugged her out the front door and into the cool night air. “I don’t know if you’ve seen much of Brynn since the attack, but if you haven’t, be prepared. She’s still not very human sometimes.”

“Her change was hard, but she’s tough.” Sasha stared up at the stars and let Dylan pull her along toward the street. “How long have you known them? Brynn and Abby?”

“A few years. God, almost seven now. One of my roommates worked with Abby. Brynn was still a kid when I met them, and Abby was working insane hours trying to take care of both of them, even though she wasn’t that old herself. Abby’s always been the one you want looking out for you.” The ironic self-deprecation was back in his voice, hidden under a layer of forced casualness.

“And you.” She wanted to kick herself when she heard how shy and besotted she sounded. “I mean, you took care of her too. You brought her here.”

Dylan looked a little uncomfortable. “Yeah. I did. But it wasn’t as heroic as everyone makes out, you know. I took a risk, but there wasn’t anything else I could do.”

“I don’t think it was heroic. Not like you’re obviously defining the word, at any rate.”

“Is the definition of heroism really that subjective?”

“I don’t think it was particularly noble of you,” she clarified. “You were ready to sacrifice yourself because the alternative—watching Abby go through what Matthews had planned for her—would have been worse. It’s not necessarily heroic. It’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Yeah.” His fingers tightened around hers. “And having people act like you’re some incredible person just because you did what you had to… It actually sucks a little bit.”

She wanted to squeeze back, to let him know she was there for him. Then she remembered Cindy and pulled away. “I understand.”

“I guess you do.” She felt the weight of Dylan’s gaze as he studied her. “What you did for Keith and Abby was incredible, you know. And what you did for Brynn too. Since you got here, all you’ve done is save people.”

“Have I?” Keith was still bedridden, Dylan himself said Brynn was barely human. “Maybe.”

Dylan moved fast. He got in front of her somehow and turned to catch her arms before she could bump in to him. He leaned down until his face was only inches from hers, and his eyes glinted in the moonlight. “Yes, Sasha. You have.”

How was she supposed to keep her distance when he looked at her like that? Her heart began to pound, and she was grateful for the thick jacket that hid the goose bumps his touch elicited. “It’s not helping Justine and Sam much at the moment, though, is it?”

“You’re doing the best you can. That’s all you can ask of yourself.” The words were firm, almost harsh, but the tingle of power around him didn’t seem angry or upset. If anything, his annoyance seemed to be directed at himself.

Sasha wanted to soothe him, to stroke her fingers over his cheek and draw him close. Instead, she changed the subject. “You promised me a drink.”

He let go of her. “Yeah, I did. Come on.”

The bar wasn’t crowded, but it felt like a hundred eyes turned to fix on them as they crossed the threshold. Silence fell as everyone stopped talking at once, leaving only the faint strains of Led Zeppelin spilling out of the jukebox.

Brynn rose from her chair near the bar, angry challenge rolling off her in waves even Sasha could feel. “Hey, Sasha. Dylan.”

Dylan’s hand fell to the small of Sasha’s back in an old-fashioned and protective gesture. “Let’s go sit with Joe and Brynn.”

Joe favored them both with a broad smile. “Knocking off early tonight?”

Sasha peeled off her jacket and bit back the defensive explanation that sprang to her lips. “We tried another cleansing, but it’s not working.”

His expression faded into one of sympathy. “Hey, Gavin was smart to stick the two biggest brains in town on this. You’ll get it done.”

Sitting so close to Brynn was uncomfortable. She glared at the people occupying the surrounding tables until everyone had turned away, only relaxing into her chair when Joe tapped her arm.

He whispered something to her, and she hissed a curse. “Don’t try to placate me. They’re being rude and I’m not going to pretend they’re not.”

“I don’t care what they think, Brynn, or what they say.” It was a lie, but only a small one, and Sasha offered it gladly.

Brynn’s gray eyes narrowed. Sasha knew lying had been pointless, but the other woman didn’t call her on it. “Well, at least with us sitting together they won’t know who to stare at. They’re not sure if they should worry about you giving them magical warts or me flipping my shit and killing one of them by mistake.”

Considering the looks Sasha had been getting since she’d healed Keith, at least half the town would be hard-pressed to choose between those two fates. “Maybe we should glare back and make them think we’ll team up to do both.”

“Joe’s a spoilsport. He doesn’t want me getting into fights.”

Joe finished his beer and shrugged. “Call me crazy, but I prefer my girlfriend in one piece.”

“What do you want to drink, Sasha?” Dylan sounded like he was struggling not to laugh.

“Beer, please.” Her fingers brushed Brynn’s hand. “How’s Abby doing? I haven’t been by to see her yet this week.”

Brynn tensed, and the prickly, frightening power spilled outward once more. She seemed oblivious of the way her magic flared, though Joe stroked her arm again. “It’s hard for her. Keith’s doing better though. He’s up and about now, and crabby as hell that Abby won’t quit hovering.”

“That’s good.” Sasha hadn’t meant to upset her, but she also didn’t want to walk on eggshells and make her feel like a freak. “I know she’s been worried.”

“Yeah. Ab’s good at worrying…” Brynn’s narrowed gaze fixed on a table near the bar. “Make them shut up, Joe, or I will.”

“Brynn, stop.” He cast the people at the table a glare as well but wrapped his fingers around Brynn’s. “It’s not going to help.”

“He’s right,” Sasha whispered. She didn’t know what they were saying, but she could guess. They didn’t trust her anyway, and she’d been spending so much time with Dylan, one of their new heroes…

Joe hissed in a breath, and Sasha saw the lines of blood where Brynn’s nails had pierced his skin. “Brynn, baby—”

It was hard to recognize the calm, easygoing person Brynn had been in the woman who sat across the table now. Something feral stirred in her eyes, and the hair rose on the back of Sasha’s neck as power spiraled upward.

Brynn shook off Joe’s hand, snatched up his empty bottle and threw it across the room with alarming strength. The sound of shattering glass was nearly eclipsed by an enraged, pained growl. Brynn snarled in return and moved so fast Sasha barely had a chance to jerk back before the woman went over the table.

Joe lunged after Brynn as the man she’d hit jumped up, and Sasha slipped out of her chair and to the floor. She could cast something that would stop the fight, but they might turn on her for using her magic against them.

Strong hands closed around her shoulders, and she thrashed a little before recognizing it was Dylan who held her. “I’m okay.”

“Shh.” A table crashed behind them, and Dylan wrapped an arm around her waist and half-dragged her into the corner. “We need to stay out of it. Joe’s the only one who can calm Brynn down.”

She could see Joe over Dylan’s shoulder, slipping one big arm around Brynn to hold her back from the man she’d attacked. His face was impassive, but she knew it wouldn’t stay that way if anyone touched Brynn.

Brynn’s head whipped to the side and she snarled, but it wasn’t the same as when Keith and Abby clashed. Abby’s quiet demeanor held a frighteningly strong woman who backed down to no one. Brynn’s feral strength rode close to the surface, but when Joe held her head to his and whispered something, the fight melted out of her.

Joe sent Brynn’s opponent skittering back with one hard look, and Dylan turned to Sasha. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I should have known…”

“Known what?” She couldn’t stop shaking.

He looked back to her and rubbed her shoulder. “Brynn is trying to find her place in the pack. It means she’s making every little thing into a challenge, because her wolf is so much closer to the surface than anyone else’s.”

“Oh.” The stairs and the path to the backroom were blocked by people who’d backed away from the fight, but they could probably make it to the front door. “Can we go upstairs? I think it would be best.”

“Yeah.” Dylan rose and pulled her up with him. “Come on, stay behind me. I just want to catch Joe’s attention.”

The sheer press of angry energy in the room made it hard to move, but Sasha made herself stand. She stuck close to Dylan, her fists clenched in the back of his shirt, and tried to ignore the accusatory looks. As far as they were concerned, the strife was all her fault.

“Joe.” Dylan’s quiet, firm voice cut through the angry muttering. “Are you taking her home, or do you want to come upstairs with us?”

He didn’t hesitate. “We’ll catch you next time, Dylan. You need anything, you let me know.”

Sasha caught a glimpse of Brynn over Dylan’s shoulder. Joe had one arm still locked around her body and was backing toward the door, his expression challenging anyone to say a word.

No one did.

“Follow them outside,” Dylan said quietly, his gaze still fixed on the room. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

“But I—”

“Please.”

Sasha let go of him and crossed the room. The occupants of the bar stepped back, cutting a wide swathe of space around her, and she’d never felt more alone in her life.

***

Sasha rubbed her gritty, burning eyes and reached for another book. “Did you turn up anything in that diary from the Sacramento pack?”

“A lead…” His voice trailed off as he turned a page and squinted at the tiny, faded writing. “A vampire from Germany who joined forces with an alpha female in Austria in the 1600s.”

“Joined forces?” She stretched, her muscles screaming in protest. They’d both spent far too much of the last week hunched over the desk in the tiny library, researching and bouncing ideas off one another long into each night. “Like they worked together, or something more intimate?”

“Sounds like both, actually.” He frowned as his gaze tracked her movements. “You should take a break. You’ve been sitting here too long.”

Sasha had tried to get him to stop and eat when his stomach had started to growl earlier, but he’d had none of it. The only time he would agree was if she told him she was hungry, even if she wasn’t. Like now. “I could use a breather, actually. I’m starving.”

Just like that, Dylan set the book aside and rose to his feet. “Olivia said she’d leave something warming in the crock pot up here. We can eat without going downstairs.”

“Good.” She still hadn’t grown accustomed to the stares, which ranged from curious to hostile, and now they all stared at her and Dylan. They were wondering if he spent so much time with her because he had to…or because he wanted to.

They moved around the apartment’s tiny kitchen, not speaking as they served their woefully late lunch. Sasha was careful to avoid touching him; the tension and weariness that rolled off him in waves already made her want to thread her fingers through his hair and comfort him. She had tried to fight the instinctive awareness that cued her into his moods, and contact would only intensify it.

She ladled the thick stew into bowls and uncovered the basket of dinner rolls on the counter. “Want to eat in here or sit in the dining room?”

He nodded to the tiny two-person table nestled against the wall. “We can eat in here, if you want.”

“Sure.” They settled into their chairs, and Sasha gathered her courage. “Are you sleeping here tonight?”

“Yeah. The house isn’t really ready, and Olivia says she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t need the place, not since she finally moved in with Sully.”

“No, I mean…” The question had come out all wrong. She studied Dylan’s bent head and struggled to figure out a way to rephrase it. “Why aren’t you staying at Cindy’s anymore?”

His shoulders tensed, and his usually placid power flared enough to betray his unease. Dylan didn’t look up from his stew, just kept stirring it absently as he stared into the bowl. “I’m not really invited.”

She’d run into Cindy at Justine’s bedside a few times over the last week. Sasha had attributed the tension to Cindy’s perceptiveness, to her somehow knowing about Sasha’s developing fascination with her boyfriend.

But this was more than awkwardness. “It’s—it’s not because of me, is it?” The question was revealing and terrifying, but Dylan would have had to be blind not to notice her growing awareness of him. “I can explain the situation to her, tell her you’re doing Gavin a favor.”

“No, Sasha.” He finally raised his head, but it was impossible to read his expression even though the look in his eyes was gentle. “It’s not your fault. Sometimes things don’t work out. It doesn’t have to be anyone’s fault.”

“I know that. But I wouldn’t have blamed her for not being happy about this.” She shrugged to hide her pain. “Most of the people here don’t want me around.”

Dylan dropped his spoon into the bowl and caught her hand. “Hey.” His thumb smoothed across the backs of her fingers. “Even good people can be scared into acting like idiots sometimes.”

She managed not to jerk away from his touch, but she couldn’t hide the way her pulse sped. “I know that too. But you don’t need me complicating things for you.”

“Seems life’s pretty complicated as it is.” He released her, but the warmth from his fingers lingered. “Think about how many things can go wrong in a normal relationship, then add the wolves. Then add the fact that most of us came from screwed-up packs. Maybe the people here have forgotten how good they have it with Gavin as their alpha.”

And if you factored in being human… Sasha shook herself. She wasn’t involved with anyone, and she wasn’t going to be, so she changed the subject. “Tell me about the legend you found in the diary. About the vampire and the alpha.”

“It was in Austria, in 1680 or so.” Dylan settled into his chair and picked up one of the rolls Sasha had set on the table. “Wolves were pretty patriarchal in that region and time period, and I got the feeling from reading between the lines that life sucked for the women. Maybe as bad as it is in some of the cities now, only with nowhere to run to get away from it.”

“So how did this woman gain and maintain power?”

He polished off the roll and shook his head. “That’s the part I’m still trying to translate. My German’s not bad but this account is heavy on the dialect. From the context, it seems like somehow her vampire lover was able to feed on the power from the pack and then give it to her. She was strong to begin with, but he gave her enough to subdue even the strongest wolves.”

“There’s a ritual some vampires use to—” Her spoon clattered to the table as she remembered the rows of bites on Justine’s arms. “Jesus, I didn’t even think of it.”

“What?”

“Not torture.” Her hands shook, and she clenched them into fists. “Harvest.”

Dylan’s eyes widened. “Do you think it was literal? That the vampire didn’t just feed on the pack’s power, he fed on the wolves and…what?”

“They need the blood anyway, and the ritual helps them focus the energy transfer. Maritza said it was like a bond, only unilateral. There’s no give and take.” She pushed back her bowl and stood. Fear made her clumsy, and she knocked over her chair. “We have to get over there.”

“Wait, Sasha, I don’t—” His face paled and he shoved away from the table and caught her before she could stumble. “You think the vampire is still draining power from Justine.”

If only it were that simple. “Not only Justine.” She dragged in a deep, ragged breath. “Sam. Dylan, that much energy—”

“Shit.” He dragged her through the kitchen, snagging his coat on the way. “Here, put this on, and we’ll go down the backstairs.”

“Dylan.” She could easily dissolve the bond between Justine and Sam, but breaking the vampire’s bond with Justine would be harder, perhaps even unsafe. “It’s not going to be easy, and I need to know if you can be there, or if you need to stay away.”

His fingers froze on the door handle. “Not easy as in dangerous?”

“A lot of what I do involves having to—to feel the magic. How it works from the inside out. So I pull it into me first.” His face blanched, but she kept talking. “I know I can take the blood bond from Justine. What I don’t know is if I can break it.”

“No. Hell no.” His knuckles had gone white, and she thought she might find the shape of his hand imprinted on the doorknob when he let go. “Sam and Gavin won’t let you do it either, Sasha. They’re not going to let you kill yourself, so if you can’t find a way to do it safely, don’t even bring it up.”

Irrational anger seized her. “I wasn’t asking for your permission, and I can’t just let her die.”

“And I can’t just let you die!” The words came out low and hoarse, and Dylan clenched his eyes shut a moment later. He dragged in an uneven breath and exhaled on a curse. “The Gaelic spell. The one Gavin helped us translate. You can use that, on me.”

“No.” She took a step back. “No, it’s the same damn thing. It may as well be a bond, Dylan. It’s too—” Intimate. “It’s too much for you. For both of us.”

He took the words the wrong way, and she saw the pain in his eyes. “I may not be Joe or Keith, but I’m not an invalid. There’s enough power in me to help keep you safe.”

“Stop it. It’s not about that.” If she cast the spell, they’d be inside each other, with no place or way to hide anything. Sasha hadn’t been able to conceal her physical reactions from him during the time they’d spent together, but she wasn’t ready for him to see beyond that. Still, there was no other way. He was right; Gavin would never let her risk herself so completely.

“All right,” she whispered. “I need the book.”

He watched her for a few heartbeats, as if he didn’t quite trust her not to bolt if he left her alone. Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before he let go of the doorknob. “Put on the coat.” This time it sounded like a request instead of an order. “I’ll grab the book.”

“I’ll wait.” She donned the jacket and clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. What effect the vampire’s blood bond would have on either of them was a terrifying unknown, and the thought of dragging Dylan into a situation she couldn’t quantify, much less control, scared the hell out of her.

But it was clear he wouldn’t let her do it alone. He reappeared less than a minute later with the book in hand and a serious look on his face. When he reached for the slightly dented doorknob, he glanced at her. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Sasha. I know you just want to help. And that’s why I worry.”

Sasha moved without thinking. She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and hauled his mouth to hers. He had to understand the desperate need inside her before she opened herself to him, so she parted her lips and sought his tongue.

The priceless volume hit the floor with a thud. Dylan caught her around the waist and spun her until her back hit the door. He kissed her with the same intensity that had transfixed her over the past week, with complete focus and a level of expertise that made her heart pound. A groan worked its way up from deep in his chest, low and a little needy, and the skilled play of his tongue against hers melted into something less refined.

He wanted her, and not with a placid human desire either. The man might be the one pressing her into the door, his warm chest a solid weight under her hand, but the wolf’s power stirred as he groaned again, tickling her skin as that dark, primal magic focused all of its attention on her.

Her desperation broke, giving way to heavy, liquid desire, and she pulled her mouth from his with a shaky moan. Her lips tingled, her body throbbed and every cell of her being protested the broken contact. “I’m sorry.”

Dylan rested his forehead against the door for several endless heartbeats, his breath coming only in harsh pants. Then he shuddered and bent to scoop up the book. “You might be sorry.” He opened the door and hustled her out onto the landing. “If you think I was an overprotective ass before, you may want to kill me by sunset.”

It played into her greatest fear a little too well—that his attraction to her was one of sheer instinct, borne of a need to shelter and protect. That he looked at her and saw not a woman, but a broken needy shell. “I’m not fragile, Dylan.”

“I know.” He pulled the door shut and nodded to the stairs. “We’ll talk about it later, when everyone’s safe.”

She wanted to argue, but there wasn’t time, so she clambered down the steep staircase and hurried out into the street.

***

Gavin nearly looked his age when he pulled open the door and leaned against it heavily. “What is it, Sasha?”

She panted, her side burning. “I think we found a way.”

He glanced at Dylan even as he moved to allow them inside. “How?”

“She thinks it’s a blood bond.” Dylan barely seemed winded. “She thinks the vampire’s still connected to Justine and now, wherever he is, he’s feeding on Justine’s magic and Sam’s.”

“Shit.” Though the muttered curse was harsh, Gavin looked relieved. “We have to break the bond.”

“Sam’s will be easy enough.” Sasha shrugged out of her jacket and took the book from Dylan. “I’ll have to take the vampire’s magic from Justine. Dylan will—will help me.”

Gavin’s eyes fell to the volume in her hands. Recognition flared in his eyes, and he pinned Dylan with an intense look. “Are you sure about this?”

Dylan spoke bluntly. “She trusts me, and I trust her. There isn’t anyone else, and I’m sure the hell not letting her do it on her own.”

“It’s the only way, Gavin.” Sasha headed up the stairs without waiting for the alpha to speak.

She found Sam in the alphas’ bedroom, curled in the center of the large bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face alarmingly pale. She hardly seemed conscious, but dark eyes fluttered open as soon as Sasha stepped over the threshold. “Sasha.”

Sam’s cheek was cold, and Sasha made a soothing noise. “Dylan and I came to help. Where’s Justine?”

“Second guest room. Across the hall from yours…” Her voice faded, then came back sounding even weaker. “Taking more than I thought. I can’t hold on much longer.”

“You don’t need to,” Sasha told her. Gavin appeared in the doorway, and she motioned for him to come closer. “I’m about to release Sam’s bond to Justine. She’ll need you here. Stay with her.”

Dylan stood in the hall, and Sasha slipped her hand into his. “I’ll be careful,” she murmured as they walked to the room where Justine lay.

The woman didn’t stir. Her skin had gone past pale to take on a grayish hue, and Sasha shuddered when she touched her. She was cold, still. Almost lifeless. Please don’t let us be too late.

It took a moment to draw Sam’s energy out of the woman. It didn’t feel as if Justine fought, but the resistance was there, brittle and greedy. When the bond finally gave, Sasha jerked and sought Dylan’s eyes. “He knows I’m here. He feels me.”

Dylan slid both hands onto her shoulders and squeezed. “I’m here. What’s the easiest way for you to work through me? Do we need to be touching?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” She wanted to sink against him. Instead, she motioned him to a chair in the corner. “Sit. I’ll need a minute to look over the incantation.”

She opened the book as Dylan lifted the chair and set it down closer to the bed. “You can sit in the chair and I’ll kneel in front of you.”

“No, you need to—” She stuck the book under her arm and moved him to stand in front of her. “Stand here, and we can keep the chair in case we need it, okay?”

He didn’t argue, but the incantation had already drawn her attention. She studied it carefully. When Gavin had translated the spell for them over dinner, it had been a mere curiosity. But now that she had to merge the words with her own magic and take control of Dylan, her hands shook.

Sasha didn’t speak as she began to weave the spell, just laid a hand on the side of his neck and called to the magic sleeping inside her. It unfurled and reached out, calling for an echo inside Dylan.

Warmth came first, a trickle of power tinged with desire and curiosity, and she realized she’d touched the animal inside him. A soft grunt escaped Dylan, and when his eyes opened they were an eerie gold. “Sasha.” Just one word, just her name, but it came out rough and a little wild, all the things Dylan never was.

She hesitated, and a heavy, expectant silence fell in the room. The spell allowed for distance; she could stay this way, inside him but separate, with one final wall between them. His power would be harder to command, but she could do it.

Their gazes locked, and the words whispered out of her. Magic swelled, and Sasha felt enveloped, open. Alive. Their hearts pounded in unison, and her fears suddenly seemed far away and unreal.

Dylan’s fingers skimmed her arms as he lowered himself to his knees with effortless grace. His hands slipped to her hips, and he held her in place as he dropped his forehead to rest on her stomach. “Alan was right. You’re more powerful than any of us.”

She steeled herself against his disbelief and the scorn he leveled at himself for thinking he could protect her. “Dylan, I need you right now. Can you help me?”

He shifted his fingers to her waist and inhaled, and she felt the satisfaction that filled him as he rubbed his cheek over her shirt. One hand tightened, and the fabric bunched and lifted enough for his wrist to brush her skin.

Electricity shot through her. Sasha moaned, only too aware of his motivations. The same instinctive drive pulsed in her, reflected by the spell. She wanted to drop to the floor with him, to roll over and bare her belly. Submit and then explore, lips and hands and teeth, until she knew a hundred ways to make him come.

Dylan growled softly and edged her shirt higher. His warm breath hit her stomach, followed by the scalding heat of his tongue.

Her knees almost buckled. Sasha reached for Dylan, and only the sudden remembrance of the sick woman behind them stopped her. She cupped his face instead, urging him to look up and meet her eyes. “Dylan, we have to help Justine. Now.”

For several tense moments, nothing happened. Then he shivered, and the fierce intelligence she’d seen over the past week gathered slowly in his eyes. “Sit.” His voice was hoarse, almost a growl. “In case you get dizzy.”

“No, I have to be close. I’ll be fine.”

Dylan expressed his disapproval with another quiet noise and turned, tugging her lightly with him until she faced the bed. He knelt behind her, his forehead pressed to her back. “Take what you need,” he whispered. “I’m strong enough for this.”

Of course he was. Someone weak could never have done the things Dylan had done, taken the same chances. “Just hold on.”

Sasha closed her hand around Justine’s and touched her face. Almost instantaneously, a wave of dizzying rage hit her. They’d angered the vampire by taking Sam away, but he was curious too. He wanted to know—

“Who are you?”

One bracing breath, and Sasha isolated the rage and inquisitiveness. It coalesced, and Dylan tensed as she reached out and took it. Justine howled in pain as the bond stretched thin between them and snapped, shattering through Sasha and Dylan.

“I know you.”

Dylan’s body went tense, his fingers clenching on her hips. “It feels—” A rasping groan and he shuddered. “The magic feels like Helena’s beta. Alan’s second-in-command.”

The magic lashed through her again, and this time it wasn’t directed at her. It was directed at Dylan, and it felt hungry. “No,” she whispered, steeling herself to deflect the dark tendrils that reached for the man behind her. “You can’t have him. He’s mine.”

Separately, either of them would have been vulnerable, but the vampire couldn’t take them both. Still, it was all Sasha could do to hold his hunger at bay. His fascination drove him harder, made him clamp tight around her.

“Then I’ll take you, little witch.”

Dylan’s fingers clenched on her waist, and his growl of challenge shook through her body, drowning her in a wash of possessive magic. It wasn’t as strong as Gavin’s or as overwhelming as Keith’s, but Dylan’s power felt steady and warm, a slow-burning fire that enfolded her in its protective grasp.

With Dylan’s magic fueling hers, it was almost easy to twist free. She pulled back and brought Dylan with her, dragging them both from the grasping clutches of the vampire’s spell.

An angry shriek followed her, along with a vicious promise. “I know you now. I know him. I’ll drink his power and use it to bind you.”

“No, you won’t.” It took every last bit of the energy inside them both, but Sasha isolated the spell and crushed it. The pain was blinding, driving her to her knees, and she clung to the edge of the bedspread, exhausted. Her chest heaved and she still couldn’t breathe, but inside was silence. She and Dylan were free.

Chapter Three

Dylan woke with a pounding headache in a bed that smelled like Sasha.

He didn’t want to open his eyes at first, and not just because sudden movements might send the pain in his skull spiraling from pounding to splitting. The soft pillow under his cheek carried an intoxicating scent, one he was all too quickly becoming addicted to.

Of course, he had to open his eyes, because Sasha wasn’t the only woman he smelled in the room. He squinted blearily at the chair next to the bed, and Abby’s features slowly came into focus. “Hey.” His voice sounded rough and hoarse, though he couldn’t remember why.

She set aside her magazine. “Welcome back. How are you feeling?”

“Where’s Sasha?” The words came out before he could stop them, but the driving need to know overrode everything, even his headache. “Is she okay?”

Abby’s concerned expression melted into mild surprise. “Sasha’s fine. She and Cindy are across the hall in Justine’s room.”

Oh shit. Dylan tried to force himself upright, but his entire body felt like he’d been run over by a particularly large truck. He sagged back to the bed and rubbed his forehead. “God. How long have I been unconscious?”

“A few hours. Sasha’s pretty spry, though, and Gavin seems to think it’s because she sucked up most of your energy with that spell.” She leaned forward and helped him sit. “That sounds dangerous, by the way.”

“Less dangerous than her trying to do it on her own,” he muttered. The world swam a little as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, but the headache was already fading, replaced by gnawing hunger. “Don’t give me shit about it, Abby. We all owe her.”

Abby steadied him. “I know we owe her, Dylan, maybe better than most. She saved my sister and my mate. Don’t think I take that lightly.”

“I just…” He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. The instinct to talk to his friend was overridden by the knowledge that Abby was a woman with too many burdens already. His problems seemed pathetic in comparison. He executed a graceless change of subject and hoped she’d drop it. “How’s Keith? Is he home by himself?”

“He said my hovering was getting on his nerves, and then he ran me out.” She arched an eyebrow, the concern back on her face. “What were you going to say?”

He didn’t want to tell her, but it was Abby. Brynn had been his little sister and even occasionally his partner-in-crime, but Abby had been the rock who’d kept him sane when his life seemed like nothing but a never-ending string of quiet wounds. “I’m worried about her. Sasha, I mean.”

She studied him in silence. “Because of the magic, or because of the way she’s being treated here?”

“Because I know what it’s like to have something to prove.” Dylan braced his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face again. “Shit, Abby. I’ve been fucking up everything I touch.”

“Hey.” She scooted her chair closer to the bed and touched his arm. “Why would you say that? Dylan, you saved my life, and Brynn’s too. You’re the only person I owe as much as Sasha, so stop it.”

That gnawing guilt returned, magnified a hundredfold. “Your life wouldn’t have needed saving if I’d kept you out of my shit, and neither would Brynn’s. This damn town wouldn’t be going to war and Sasha wouldn’t be alone and hurt—” He bit off the words as another stab of hunger arced through him, this time strong enough to make the wolf rumble uncomfortably inside him. “Shit, I’ve got to eat. I’m starving.”

“Let’s go downstairs. Gavin’s tending Sam. We can talk while you eat.”

He made it to his feet and to the doorway without toppling over, which would have been more than his tender ego could take at this point. It felt cowardly to creep past the door to the guest bedroom where Justine lay, but with his head swimming and his body protesting, the last thing he could handle was facing Cindy and Sasha.

It was easy to see how Abby must have been annoying Keith, because she hovered all the way down to the kitchen, and made Dylan sit as she heaped a plate with food and heated it in the microwave.

Even an attempt to find himself something to drink was foiled, and he watched with a mixture of amusement and annoyance as she filled a glass with lemonade for him and set it on the table. “I’m starting to see Keith’s point, Abby. I’m not an invalid.”

“Shut up and let me do this.” She placed his plate in front of him and sat across the table, her chin on her hands. “I’m pathetic, I know, but I can’t help it.”

The words brought back a memory of the first time he’d gone to Abby’s apartment for dinner. Almost two years into their friendship, and it had been the warm, steady caring in her eyes that had finally overcome his determination to keep everyone at arm’s length. He’d spent the hour before he arrived wandering in circles around Helena in an attempt to bore anyone who might be following him, knowing that leading any of his packmates to her house would put the Adler sisters in danger.

Abby and Brynn had been his secret, the one spot of brightness in his dull life. Over the years he’d even managed to fool himself into thinking they’d be safe from the horrors of his existence.

You selfish fucking bastard.

Abby had always been perceptive, and now was no exception. “Stop beating yourself up,” she suggested, twirling the salt shaker between her palms, “and tell me what’s going on between you and Sasha.”

Dylan bought time with a hearty bite of food. He washed it down with the rest of the lemonade and met his friend’s eyes. He still couldn’t think of anything to say, so he told her the truth. “I don’t have a fucking clue, Abby.”

“Fair enough. Think Sasha does?”

He had only the haziest memory of her skin under his fingers and her magic curled around him, warm and curious and laced with nervous but honest desire. “I don’t know.”

“I see.” Abby tapped her fingernails rhythmically on the table. “I made the mashed potatoes the way you like them. So much garlic Joe said he could smell them from his place.”

Dylan knew Abby well enough to know the respite from her questions was temporary. So he took it with good grace, complimented her on the mashed potatoes and tried to pretend he had something in his head besides thoughts of a quiet, terrified witch.

He did a shitty job, but at least Abby was nice enough to let it be. For now.

She began to talk about nonsense things, probably just to fill the silence. The sound of soft footsteps on the stairs quieted her, and Abby looked up as Cindy came into the kitchen. “How’s Justine?”

Cindy glanced at Dylan and began to unroll her shirtsleeves. “She’s already getting stronger. I gave her more antibiotics for the infection, and she should be able to shake it now.”

Dylan let out a breath he couldn’t remember holding and relaxed. “Good. That’s good. What about Sam?”

“Better.” Cindy dragged out a chair and sank into it. “What about you, Dylan?”

He pointed to the empty plate in front of him. “I just needed some food, I guess. I’m fine.”

She frowned. “You should eat more. You should also never pull another stunt like that one this afternoon. You could have died.”

Dylan stiffened at the no-nonsense command, one she probably expected him to obey without argument. And with good reason—he’d been obeying most of her offhand orders in the time he’d been in Red Rock, and had the sneaking suspicion that things would have gone a lot better between them if he’d fought a little more.

But the fight he was about to start was one he didn’t need witnesses for. He glanced at Abby, hoping she’d read the silent plea in his eyes.

She was already rising from the table. “I’ve got to get home to check on Keith. Cindy, we’ll see you tomorrow. Dylan…stop by, okay? When you get a chance.”

“Of course. Tell Keith I feel his pain.”

“Uh-huh.”

Cindy watched Abby go, her shoulders tense. “Something you couldn’t say in front of her?”

He hated seeing that wariness in her even more than he’d hated her anger. “This isn’t really the time, but it’s never the right time. And we both have things to say to each other.”

Some of her tension melted into an obvious regret. “I’m sorry. I said some really shitty things to you the other day. Things you didn’t deserve.”

It would have felt a lot better to hear if he hadn’t been starting to realize she’d been right. Dylan rubbed a hand over his face and fought a weary sigh. “There might have been some truth in it, Cindy. More than I wanted to hear.”

She smiled a little, though her eyes grew bright with tears. “I didn’t say I was wrong, just that I shouldn’t have treated you so badly.”

He groaned and closed his eyes, not sure he’d be able to take it if she cried. “You were right, but you were also lying. Things were going to hell before Sasha.”

In true Cindy fashion, she admitted it readily. “Without a doubt. I think…I wanted both of us to be something we’re not.”

“Yeah.” Her words should have hurt more. He’d expected them to, had been braced for the pain of being judged insufficient yet again, but the relief of having the truth between them outweighed everything else. He opened his eyes and hoped his answering smile didn’t look bitter. “I’m not Joe or Keith. Hero isn’t my default setting.”

“Now that’s a load of crap.” Cindy stood and hesitated before leaning over to kiss his cheek. “She’s really nice, Dylan. I’d feel a smidge better if she was heinous, or at least difficult, but…she’s sweet.”

Fear knotted in his stomach. “And you and I both know that sweet doesn’t belong in our world.”

She didn’t argue or offer him platitudes. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“How about I start by promising to eat? Baby steps, and all.”

“Right.” Cindy pulled a hand through her hair. “Gavin wants to see you. He said something about a trip to Maine.”

Dylan took both of the plates Abby had set in front of him to the sink. “What’s in Maine?”

“Damned if I know.” She pulled a soda from the refrigerator. “But he mentioned Sasha too.”

Gavin could have mentioned Sasha for any number of reasons that didn’t involve sending her halfway across the country, which meant Dylan’s immediate, irrational protective anger was out of place. He tilted his head and tried to remember everything he’d ever heard Gavin and Sam say about Maine. “Isn’t there a town there? One of the sanctuaries? Except I’m almost certain no one from there showed up at the summit last month. Idaho, Alaska…Alabama, maybe? No Maine.”

Cindy chewed her lower lip. “I’m not sure. I only caught a little of the conversation, and I wasn’t really trying to listen.”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” He pushed off the counter and grinned at her. “You should go rescue Keith. Abby’s going to drive him out a window in about fifteen minutes.”

“I hope not. I’m getting tired of patching him up.”

The tension of the past weeks had eased enough that he felt comfortable squeezing her hand. “Thanks, Cindy.”

“You’re welcome.” She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Our grand affair might be over, but I still care about you. Don’t forget that.”

“Same goes to you.” He smoothed her hair back and forced himself to acknowledge he was killing time to avoid the moment he’d have to go upstairs and face the same sort of kindly rejection from Sasha. “I suppose Gavin will come down here and drag my ass upstairs if I don’t go under my own power, huh?”

Her expression gentled, and she kissed him again. “I think you’ll be fine, Dylan. I’ll see you later.”

Soft footsteps on the stairs meant his time was up. He straightened and stepped back, fighting the sudden tension that filled him when he realized the tread was too light to be Gavin’s. “Bye, Cindy.”

She made it out the back door just as Sasha appeared in the archway between the kitchen and the hall. “Hi.” Bare feet peeked out from under the hem of her jeans as she fidgeted. “Gavin wants to talk to us. He said to wait for him down here.”

His body stirred at the sight of her, giving lie to all his stupid rationalizations about why Cindy’s rejection hadn’t hurt more. He cleared his throat and turned to the fridge. “I was going to get something to drink. You want anything?”

“I thought I’d make some coffee.” Sasha hesitated with her hand on the pantry door. “When Gavin’s done with us, maybe we can talk.”

The words killed his lust rather handily. “Sure.”

She glanced at the empty doorway, as if judging the time they might have alone. “I owe you an apology, Dylan. A huge one.”

“Don’t.” It came out forcefully enough to startle her, and he gritted his teeth and moderated his tone. “I’ve already had two lectures on how dangerous the spell was, but you didn’t hurt me.”

Sasha gripped the coffee can so hard her fingers turned white. “Not that. Justine and Sam needed help, and we had no other options. I meant…” She turned away, and the can hit the counter with a metallic thud. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you the way I did back at the apartment.”

He was behind her without realizing he’d moved, driven to find some way to ease her distress. His hand shook a little as he touched her shoulder, just a light, careful brush of his fingers. “It’s okay. And I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

She tensed under his hand, and her heart raced. “I told myself I was kissing you so you would know that I wanted you. So you wouldn’t be surprised when I cast the spell.”

“Secrets are hard to keep around werewolves.” He let his hand rest on her upper arm and swiped his thumb lightly over her shoulder. “But you probably learned more about me than I did about you. It’s all a little fuzzy.”

“I want to do it again.” She finally turned to face him, her gaze focused on his mouth. “I know it’s a bad idea, and I want to kiss you anyway.”

It was wrong to be thinking about kissing her in Gavin’s kitchen with the faint scent of Cindy’s shampoo still on his fingers. It was wrong, and he was wrong, and it didn’t stop him from lifting his hand to touch her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft, and it was all too easy to remember how her lips had felt under his for the brief moment he’d given in and kissed her. Hungry, needy. Maybe a little unsure and a lot nervous, but those he could fix. Those he could—

His mouth was only inches from hers when someone cleared his throat. Loudly.

Dylan jerked back and silently cursed himself for being so fixated that he hadn’t heard Gavin’s footsteps. With Cindy there’d been no such problem; as intense as their conversation had been, he hadn’t been oblivious to the world around him.

Gavin sat at the table as Sasha grabbed the carafe from the coffee maker and rinsed it in the sink, her cheeks flaming. The alpha pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and stuck one in his mouth, though he didn’t light it. “There’s a vampire in Helena, a strong one, and we need to find out how to deal with that.”

At least I’m not getting a lecture. Even though he’d probably end up with one eventually, Dylan wasn’t going to question a temporary reprieve. He slid into the seat across from Gavin and turned his mind firmly away from Sasha and all thoughts of kissing her. “We found something in one of those books. About how a vampire and werewolf can work together. It would explain how Alan’s second got enough power to hold the pack. He was a lot weaker than Alan.”

“An old friend of mine could help, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with him.” Gavin tossed the cigarette on the table. “Adam isn’t much for modern methods of communication, but he’s too set in his ways to have moved. I need someone to go to Maine and—”

“I’ll go.” Sasha turned on the coffee maker and slung a dishtowel over her shoulder. “It might be better for everyone if I got out of town for a while.”

All of the pain that had been suspiciously absent during Cindy’s rejection hit Dylan in the gut. With interest. It made his next words too blunt and too raw. “That’s bullshit.”

“No, it isn’t.” She met his gaze steadily. “But I can’t go alone, Dylan. Can you come with me?”

Pain changed to pleasure with a speed that made him dizzy. He jerked his gaze back to Gavin and tried not to let it show in his voice. “Is there a catch?”

Gavin nodded once. “Adam lives near Bedagi Creek. It’s one of the sanctuaries, Irene and Lawrence’s place. They couldn’t make it to the summit, so I’m sending Joe and Brynn out to give them the short version.”

The thought of Brynn trying to challenge her way through a pack that didn’t live in terror of Joe’s ire was enough to make Dylan queasy. “Is Brynn ready for that? I don’t know if you heard, but she started a damn bar fight the other night.”

Gavin looked ill, as well. “She’s different from everyone else, just like—” He broke off and swore.

“Just like me. I know.” Sasha looked pale, and Dylan had to avert his eyes to keep from coming to his feet and snatching her up in a comforting hug.

“I’m sorry, Sasha.” The alpha rose and paced across the kitchen. “You haven’t earned this, but you have to understand what some of the wolves here have been through…”

“I do understand,” she said quickly. “When should I be ready to leave?”

“When should we be ready to leave?” Dylan corrected without looking at Sasha. If he saw the pain in her eyes that he thought he heard in her voice… You have got to get a grip, man. Get a fucking grip.

“Tomorrow.” Gavin’s face was creased with worry. “Brynn can’t fly, so the four of you will have to drive.”

It was one more bump in the road, one more task he had to complete before he could get his quiet life. So Dylan nodded. “Sasha and I can go over to the library and see if there are any books that might be good to bring. Or maybe not…is your friend a Lorekeeper?”

“No.” The coffee wasn’t finished brewing, but Gavin took a mug from the drain rack and filled it. “He’s a vampire.”

Chapter Four

Sasha folded one last shirt and tucked it into the open bag on the bed. She’d planned on going back to Gavin’s to gather her clothes, but she hadn’t realized just how many of her meager belongings had made their way to the small apartment over the bar. Everything she needed was there, and she didn’t want to think too much about what that really meant.

A deep, bracing breath gave her the courage to wander down the hall to the small library, where Dylan had been methodically sorting through texts and journals they might need for the trip. She leaned against the doorframe and allowed herself a few moments to watch the smooth flex of muscle under his T-shirt as he moved stacks of books into boxes. “I’ve finished packing. Need some help?”

He glanced up with a ready smile. “Can you remember which book we found that history of the Devil’s Half-Acre in? It was about vampires in New England, I think, but I can’t remember where it was.”

She closed her eyes and tried to recall. “It had a green cover with gold print, and the bottom part of the spine was torn.”

“Green cover, gold print… Green cov—aha!” When she opened her eyes he was holding up a book. “This one?”

“That one.” Her legs were shaking, so she eased a box out of the way and sat on the corner of the desk. “I never got the chance to tell you why kissing you is a bad idea.”

Dylan froze with the book still held aloft, and a brittle wariness filled his eyes. “I don’t think kissing me is ever a bad idea, but I could be biased.”

Her stomach twisted at his expression. She wanted to change the subject, run, or maybe even kiss him anyway, but she needed to be honest with him. “I’m not staying in Red Rock, Dylan. As soon as I’m square with everyone, I’ll be leaving.”

“Square with everyone?” He set the book on the table and watched her. “Jesus Christ, Sasha. Do you think you owe someone in this town something?”

“Yes.” She rubbed her arms to dispel her goose bumps. “Gavin and Sam. Keith. A-and you.”

Pain flashed in his eyes. “You saved Brynn and Keith. We owe you.”

“I’m not explaining this very well.” Nerves always made her clumsy, even in her speech. “It’s the old tradition, the one Maritza was teaching me. Keith saved my life, and I did the same for him. That’s the way it goes. But if my debts are left open, if they’re not repaid, like with you…” She struggled for words that would make him understand. “It doesn’t matter if you expect it, or even if you want it. Until we’re even, my life is yours.”

“Why do you think you owe me, Sasha?” The words were compassionate. “Because of the spell? I did that to help Gavin and Sam as much as to keep you safe. It’s nothing.”

She blinked at him, confused. “You killed Alan Matthews. You kept him from dragging me back to Helena, from—from doing the things he said he was going to do to me. And I know you didn’t do it for me, but that doesn’t matter.”

Dylan moved around the table, every movement so careful he had to be trying not to startle her. He lifted his hands and cupped her cheeks. “You do not owe anyone for saving you from Alan Matthews. You were supposed to be safe here. You were supposed to be protected. He came here to hurt us, and you suffered for it. We owe you.”

His words relieved her of her debt, but Sasha had a hard time concentrating on them. His hands were warm on her skin, and he was so close… She laid her palm on his chest, and her own body responded to the strong, fast beating of his heart. “Dylan.”

“Shh.” His thumb swept over her lips. “Don’t go to Maine to pay off a debt. It could be dangerous, and you don’t need more danger. You deserve to be safe for a while.”

She couldn’t breathe, and her body throbbed. “Are you going?”

“If that’s what Gavin needs me to do.” His mouth was so close she could feel his breath. “He’s my alpha now.”

“Then quit trying to talk me out of it. I’m going too.” Sasha pulled him closer, her hands shaking. She didn’t mean to speak, but the words tumbled out anyway. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing today.” His thumb drifted down to her chin, and he tilted her head back. “Can I kiss you? Even if it’s a bad idea?”

How could it ever be a bad idea? All she could remember was how it felt during the spell, being so intimately entwined with him. So she stared at his mouth and answered with a soft, pleading noise. “I want you inside me again.”

Dylan groaned and pressed his forehead to hers. “Jesus Christ, Sasha.” His fingers crept around the back of her head and sank into her hair, and then his mouth was on hers, slow but hot.

Sensation streaked through her, instant and undeniable. She tilted her head and arched against his chest, trying to deepen the kiss, and he responded with a low moan and a teasing swipe of his tongue along her lower lip.

One arm slid around her, and he picked her up. When he sank to the sofa, she wound up on his lap, her knees digging into the cushions on either side of him. The position made it easier to take control of the kiss, and she did, coaxing his lips apart to seek his tongue with hers.

She felt his fingers on her neck, and a soft growl rumbled up from his chest as his other hand settled at her lower back. He kissed her for several long moments before easing back to nip at her lower lip. “Kissing me isn’t so bad, is it?”

“I never said it was bad.” She bared her throat and rocked down against his hips as the hot pleasure inside her gathered into a gnawing hunger. “It’s really good.”

“Don’t sound surprised.” A tiny tug at the back of her neck and she felt his breath feathering over her chin. He dropped a kiss to her jaw, then another just under it. “I’m pretty damn good at kissing.”

Sasha shuddered, her entire body tight and aching. “I’m not surprised. I’m turned on.” She lifted her head and captured his mouth, this time in a demanding, almost rough kiss.

He met her aggression with a low noise and easy skill, but too soon he softened the kiss. His fingers crept under the edge of her shirt as his lips slid back to her chin, and this time farther to her throat. The wet warmth of his tongue tickled over her pulse. “I know you’re turned on. I can hear your heart.”

Longing shot through her, and she clutched his head to keep his mouth close to her skin. “I can feel yours.” It pounded under her hand, even harder than before, and Sasha wiggled, trying to ease the empty ache inside her.

“Fuck.” His fingers tightened on her hip at the same moment his teeth closed on the side of her neck. He released her after a moment and rested his forehead on her shoulder with a low moan. “Okay, the wiggling is going to kill me.”

Not moving was killing her, but she stilled and feathered a trail of kisses over his cheek to his neck. “I’ll stop if you promise to keep kissing me.”

Warm lips brushed her temple as his hand swept higher under her shirt. His fingers rubbed lazy figure eights over her back, and he chuckled. “I’m going to keep kissing you until you tell me I can’t.”

Cool air on the bare skin of her lower back broke the sensual haze, and she tensed. He had no idea that the flesh under her clothes was as scarred as her face, but he’d find out soon enough if he kept tracing his hands over her.

“No.” Sasha jerked her shirt down and scrambled off his lap. Again, she couldn’t breathe, this time from rising panic instead of passion. It would be unmistakable, the rage and pity in his eyes, and she couldn’t bear to see it.

He froze with his hands out at his sides. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The lie was automatic. Sasha wrapped her arms around her midsection and backed away. “I need to go.”

“I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’ll call someone to come walk you home.”

“I don’t—” It wasn’t fair to let him think he’d done something wrong when the problem was hers. “It’s not you, Dylan.”

“The attack?”

Of course he’d have already thought of it. Her cheeks burned, and she tugged her shirt over her head before she could think better of it.

Dylan’s gaze drifted from her face to her shoulders and then her torso. She watched his eyes move as he studied the scars on her body.

He didn’t say a word. Instead he slid from the couch to his knees and turned his back on her as he removed his own shirt.

He had scars too, raised ridges of flesh across his left shoulder and down his back. Sasha moved before she realized it, sinking to her knees behind him. She shivered and brushed her fingertips across one prominent line. “What did they do?”

“Most things don’t leave scars.” His voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. “But if they want you to remember, they use magical weapons. Like the one Keith got stabbed with.”

His skin was hot under her hands, and against her chest when she slipped her arms around him. “You hurt so much.” She could barely speak past the lump of pain in her throat. “I want to make it stop.”

He covered her hands with his. “Now you know how I feel. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“My scars are all on the outside.” She kissed the spot between his ear and his jaw. “But you can’t see most of yours, can you?”

“I don’t know. They may not be visible, but seems like a lot of people see them.” He turned his head just enough for her forehead to rest against his cheek. “Cindy’s not angry with you, you know. She’ll never admit it, but she’s glad. Now she doesn’t have to figure out how to get rid of me.”

It was unthinkable, that any woman would want to be rid of him. “I’m worried about you, not Cindy.”

“I’ll be fine. I always am.”

The words were practiced and hollow. “You’ll survive, because you always do. But are you really fine?”

He exhaled softly. “Honestly, they’ve meant the same thing for a long time.”

Pain twisted in her again, and tears burned her eyes as she hugged him more tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Sasha.” He turned enough to put his back to the couch and held out his arms. “Can I hold you for a few minutes?”

She hurried into his lap and buried her face in his neck, unable to silence her relieved moan. “I need this.” To be comforted, protected. Safe.

He smoothed his fingers through her hair as his other arm cradled her against him. “Me too. In Helena, I couldn’t get close to people without putting them in danger. I’ve missed it.”

She realized with a start that, though her arousal had subsided, she still wanted to stay close to him, even if it meant he thought of her as weak and fragile. “I didn’t mean to upset you before.”

“When?”

Sasha groaned and closed her eyes. “If I’ve upset you so many times you don’t know what I’m talking about, I need to apologize more.”

His fingers slid through her hair as he chuckled. “You haven’t really upset me at all.”

“At Gavin’s house. You thought I offered to go because I wanted to get away.”

“Oh.” Another slow pass of his hand, but this time it settled on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t blame you. Life hasn’t been easy for you here. You deserve better. I wish I could make it better.”

You have. She bit back the words and concentrated on the warm weight of his hand on her skin. “There has to be a place for me. Just haven’t found it yet.”

“Shh.” Dylan’s fingers settled under her chin and he tilted her head up. His thumb swiped over her cheek, and it was only then that she realized she was crying. “When we get back from Maine, I’ll help you look.”

Mortification trumped her desire to stay in his arms. She crawled out of his lap and reached for her shirt. “If we’re leaving so soon, I have a few more things to do.”

Dylan rose to his knees and gathered up his own shirt. “And I have to go over to Joe’s place. Do you want me to wait and walk you back to Gavin’s?”

She’d rather have her breakdown in private. “No, I’ll be okay. Later.”

But Dylan frowned. “There are a few more things in the library to pack up. Do you think you could do that? Gavin can probably stop by on his way back from Joe’s.”

“I can handle it, Dylan.” The lump in her throat grew. “Please stop.”

“Sorry.” He tugged the shirt over his head and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair in an attempt to smooth it. Every line of his body was tense as he started for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. If you need— Have a good night.”

Even her bruised pride couldn’t stop her words. “Thank you for everything. It means a lot.”

He glanced back at her, his hand on the doorknob. The look that crept into his eyes was that of a lover, warm and full of promise with just a hint of challenge. “It’s my pleasure.”

Sasha was shaking when the door closed behind him. She’d been so sure his attraction to her was one of instinct, of the pleasure derived from taking care of someone who needed him. But if he felt more for her than protectiveness…

She touched her lips. There was time. No need to rush into anything when they could both take it slow and figure out exactly was developing between them.

No need to rush at all.

Joe rubbed his chin. “You know I love you, Gavin, but this assignment of ours? It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Gavin snapped. “You need to check out the situation in Bedagi Creek, and Dylan and Sasha need to find Adam Dubois.”

“So we’re going to road trip? It’ll take two weeks, and that’s assuming we drive there and straight back.”

In Helena, being trapped in a room with two strong, annoyed alphas would have ended with bruises at best, and broken bones on a normal day. Dylan stared into the mug of black coffee Joe had poured for him and cleared his throat. “I know it’s at least partly about getting Sasha out of town.”

“And the rest of it’s about getting Brynn out of town.” Gavin ignored Joe’s snarl and refilled his own mug. “If it were just about the constant challenges, I could handle it. But people associate her with Sasha’s magic now, and they’re scared. Scared enough to cause problems.”

“You could slap them down,” Joe argued. “You’re still the fucking alpha.”

“I know who I am!” With the roar came a sharp lash of energy strong enough to force the air from Dylan’s chest, and Joe backed away. “I’m responsible for everyone in this town. Everyone. I cannot afford to drive people out of sanctuary because I can’t be bothered to show them how stupid their prejudices are.”

Joe spoke in a strained whisper. “Isn’t that what you’re doing to Brynn? To Sasha? Driving them out of this sanctuary?”

It took every scrap of willpower Dylan had to lift his gaze to Joe’s. “Not forever. If we go, we give Gavin a chance to settle things without someone ending up hurt. And Brynn may be tough enough to handle being in a town where people fear her, but it’s killing Sasha. She’s better off leaving for a while.”

The righteous anger in Joe’s eyes faded a bit. “She wants to go?”

At least Dylan could answer the question honestly. “Yes. And I want to go with her. I may as well have challenged everyone in that bar a few nights ago when I told them to back down. No one pushed it, but…” But eventually the status he’d gained by rescuing Abby and killing Matthews would fade. He’d be a mid-level wolf, a newcomer to the pack, challenging stronger wolves. Over a witch.

A witch who would add every fight, every word, every goddamn scrap of kindness to some mental balance sheet as a debt she owed him.

Joe ran a rough hand through his dark hair and sighed. “If we leave first thing in the morning, I can push it hard and make Laramie, maybe even Cheyenne before we stop.”

Gavin lit a cigarette. “I don’t know how long you’ll have to stay, so get out there as quick as you can and take care of business. When you’re done, we can decide whether you should hurry home.”

Dylan glanced from Joe to Gavin. “I know part of what’s got Brynn so riled is that she’s protective of Sasha. Maybe if Sasha and I go on our own it would be enough. We can make contact with your friend, and Joe would be here in case there’s more trouble.”

“I have to go.” Joe’s mug thumped down on the counter.

Gavin’s jaw tightened. “The alphas from Bedagi Creek didn’t come to the summit. I told you that much. But when I called Irene looking for Adam, there was something wrong.”

Dylan felt tension arc through him. “How wrong?”

“She didn’t say anything overt, but it felt like she was asking for help.”

His fingers tightened around the coffee mug until he was afraid it would shatter. It was too easy to picture bringing Sasha to Helena, to imagine what would happen to her when one of the corrupt dominant wolves decided Dylan had stepped out of line and needed to be punished—

The mug shattered.

Neither man seemed surprised by his reaction. Joe retrieved a kitchen towel and began to gather the broken stoneware. Gavin crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table and leveled a serious look on Dylan. “Not like that, son. If I thought it was dangerous, I wouldn’t let her near the place.”

Dylan wiped his hands on the towel Joe offered him without taking his gaze from Gavin. “Sasha needs to stay out of werewolf politics. Even the not-so-dangerous kind.”

“Which is why you two will be looking for Adam, not trying to figure out what’s wrong with the pack there.” The alpha propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I stopped by the apartment on the way here, Dylan, and I told her all this. She still wants to go.”

“Then I’ll go with her.” Dylan looked at Joe. “What about Brynn? What does she think?”

Joe tossed the broken shards of the mug in the trash. “She could use some time away, but she won’t admit it. That’s tantamount to abandoning Abby, and you know the Adler sisters.”

“Brynn’s never been good at telling Abby to mind her own business. Abby smothers her and Brynn gets pissed and snaps, then she feels bad and lets Abby smother her more to make up for it. They’ve been doing it for years.”

“Sounds about right.” Joe handed Dylan a fresh mug of coffee. “Can you and Sasha be ready by morning?”

“Yeah. We packed up the most useful books. I can read in the car if I need to.”

“Around five, then. We’ll get breakfast on the road.”

Dylan nodded his acknowledgment before taking a sip of coffee. It was still black and too strong, but he drank it anyway. He needed it for what he had to do next. “Gavin, do you mind walking back to the bar with me?”

“Sure.” Gavin rose and clasped Joe’s hand in a firm shake. “Have a good trip. Check in from time to time.”

“We will.”

Dylan nodded at Joe. “See you bright and early.”

“Early,” Joe corrected with a grin. “Probably not bright yet.”

Outside on the porch, Dylan sucked in a deep breath of cool night air. “How was Sasha when you were there? Did she seem okay?”

Gavin ran his hand over the railing as he stepped off the porch. “Well enough. She was busy packing.”

“Gavin…” Dylan curled his hand around the balcony and closed his eyes. “Hell, I don’t know how to say this. I don’t even know what I want to say. I just know I’m fucking terrified.”

“What do your instincts tell you?”

After the last ten years, he’d learned one lesson so many times it had superseded instinct. Maybe it had become instinct. “That anyone I care about is in danger.”

“No one wants to use Sasha to hurt you, and no one wants to hurt her because of you. But you know that.” Gavin’s eyes held a haunted look. “The question is, would it matter? If being with her meant endangering her, what then? Not what would you do, but…could you stop? Could you walk away, satisfied that you were protecting her and let that be it? Or would you still want her?”

He tried to imagine it. To imagine that sending Sasha to Maine alone would be the only way to keep her safe, and that he’d have to stay in Red Rock without her. He thought of the way her eyes lit up when she wrestled some new fact out of a dusty book, her good-natured smile and the way she’d felt under his hands and mouth.

He imagined never seeing her again, and it hurt. His chest felt tight and he shook his head slowly. “I’d still want her.”

“Then you have to trust in that.” The alpha laid a hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “I’ve seen you look at her. You could replace her, fill that instinctive need to take care of someone, but I don’t think it’d be the same.”

Trusting his instincts would have gotten him killed in Helena. And you’re spending too much time worrying about what would have happened in Helena. Escaping his past wouldn’t do a damn bit of good if he kept living in it.

He squared his shoulders and opened his eyes to meet Gavin’s gaze. “Thank you.”

The alpha nodded. “If you’re still worried, talk to Sasha. Figure it out together.”

Another slippery slope. Sasha knew there were scars on his heart, but she’d never understand how many and how deep. Some of them would heal, but not all of them. He only had to look at the shadows in Cindy’s eyes seven years after her rescue to know how long those wounds could take to heal. More terrifying was the pain that tightened Sam’s eyes sometimes, even though she’d escaped from Helena long before Dylan had been born.

And they were strong wolves. Alphas with the will to fight and the stubbornness to overcome any obstacle. If they couldn’t fight free of the past…

Gavin still watched him, so he tried to make a joke. “I haven’t dated in a decade. I’m a little out of practice.”

The older man’s expression remained somber. “You could talk to Samantha,” he suggested finally. “I may run a sanctuary here but, in a way, I’m at a disadvantage with a lot of you. The horrors of my life have been straightforward.”

The horrors of Dylan’s life had been anything but, which was the problem. “My life sucked, Gavin, but it’s an insult to people like Cindy and Sam to pretend I had it all that bad.”

“Having your own pain doesn’t lessen anyone else’s. That’s the worst part of what the alphas like Matthews do.” He stepped back and surveyed the forest beyond Joe’s front yard. “It’s insidious, Dylan. How they try to make you think it’s not so bad, and they could make it so much worse if they wanted.”

“They could have. They did, sometimes, just to remind us. Because otherwise we’d run off to places like this, and they’d lose their easy income and grunt labor.”

“It’s a perversion.” Gavin bit out the words. “Being alpha is about doing what’s best for your pack, not for yourself.”

“It is here.” Dylan stepped off the stairs and stood next to Gavin. “That’s why I’ll go to Maine. That’s why I’ll help you fight however I can. This is the way it should be.”

“Yes.” He started down the drive, beckoning for Dylan to follow. “Maritza intended to settle here, you know. Sasha’s mentor. She felt that the prejudices and bad blood could be overcome.”

Sasha didn’t agree, and Dylan couldn’t even blame her. Not after the past month. “What do you think?”

“I hope so. I think they have to be, if any of us are going to survive.”

He had to believe in Gavin. He had to believe in the alpha’s ability to realize his hopes, to bring change and understanding to his pack, because Gavin wasn’t just an alpha. He was Dylan’s alpha, the first one he’d had who made him feel safer with his presence. The first one whose trust and respect he wanted. Gavin was the steady strength that had been missing all those years in Helena, the one who could make it possible for Dylan to live a life without terror and misery.

Red Rock was the first home Dylan had found in a decade…and Sasha wanted to leave it. For good.

Chapter Five

Sasha wiggled the key in the handle and almost stumbled when the door yielded suddenly. “I thought motels used plastic key cards these days.”

“Guess it depends on how old they are.” Brynn followed her into the room, both of their bags under one arm and a sack of snack food from the gas station clutched in the other hand. “This place doesn’t look all that classy.”

It really didn’t, though at least it looked clean. The sparse room held two queen beds with wildly patterned bedspreads, a television and a battered desk. “It’s not the Ritz, but I’m too tired to care, even if I would normally.”

“Mmm.” Brynn dropped both bags just inside the door as her gaze jumped around the room. She moved to the small closet and peeked inside, then wandered to the bathroom and pushed open the door. “The whole place reeks of bleach.”

She could smell only the faintest trace, but Sasha nodded. “You want the bed by the bathroom or the door?” She didn’t know if it mattered, but the careful way Brynn surveyed the room told her it might.

Brynn’s gaze drifted toward the wall that separated their room from the one Dylan and Joe occupied. “I’ll take the one by the door.”

Quick escape or first in line to defend against an intruder? “I’m too tired to eat, but I could use a shower. Did you want one first?”

“You go ahead. I’m starving.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Sasha took her time. Even with the rigors of travel, she already felt lighter just being away from Red Rock. Free. Out here, the worst she’d had to endure was the way people stared at her face, and most people averted their gazes quickly, not wanting to be caught gaping.

Of course, she could never tell Gavin or Sam that. They’d taken her in, and they’d tried so hard to make her feel at home, but she didn’t expect them to defend or protect her at the expense of their own. That wasn’t the way of things, and she understood that.

She’d come closest to telling Dylan. He alone knew that she planned to leave permanently as soon as she could and, ironically, he was the only thing that made her want to stay.

The towels were scratchy. She bypassed them completely and wrapped up in her robe, depending on the thin cotton to dry her. Her hair would take a while, but she could brush it dry if need be.

“Brynn, do you—?” When she stepped out of the bathroom, it wasn’t Brynn but Dylan sitting on the bed by the door. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d come in.”

His gaze swept up her body to her face, and she could have sworn he blushed before he jerked his attention back to the open book in front of him. “Sorry. Brynn’s…antsy. Their bond works better with proximity, so she’s over with Joe in the other room. I’m pretty sure neither of us want to disturb them before breakfast.”

“Oh.” Sasha turned to the dresser and reached for her hairbrush, but the sight of herself in the mirror stopped her cold. Her skin was flushed from the hot water, and her wet hair had soaked her robe until the cotton covering her breasts was transparent and clinging to her nipples. “Damn it.”

He cleared his throat. “Need me to go outside for a bit? I might run down to the vending machine, since Brynn has all the snacks.”

“No. No, it’s okay. I just need…” She snatched her bag from the bed she’d claimed and clutched it to her chest. “I’ll be right back.”

It was hard to dress in the steamy bathroom, especially with her skin still damp, but Sasha managed to wiggle into her nightclothes. When she returned to the room, Dylan still sat on the bed, staring intently at his book. “What are you reading?”

“That book about the history of vampires in Maine. I had no idea it was the epicenter of vampire activity. Seems a little surreal.” He glanced up at her and grinned. “I keep picturing vampires in snow pants and parkas trying to chip the ice off their truck windows.”

She stretched out on her stomach across the end of her bed. “I wouldn’t know. Most of the vampires I met in Europe tended to hibernate all winter. But they were older. Frail, I think.”

Dylan nodded. “If you read between the lines in these books, it seems like most of them get that way. Every time anyone talks about a vampire getting a lot of power, it pretty much ends up with a discussion of how a bunch of people got together and killed him.”

“Or tried, anyway. Maritza had this one friend who’d been run out of every county in Ireland.”

“A vampire friend?” One of his eyebrows shot up. “Are vampires friendly with wizards and witches?”

“No.” Fond memories of the no-nonsense woman who’d taken her in as a young teen washed over her. “But Maritza was never one for rules. She befriended Keith, after all.”

Dylan closed the book with a great deal of care and set it on the mattress before turning to look at her. “Tell me about her.”

“She was my grandmother’s best friend.” Sasha shut her eyes and immediately called up the image of leathery, blue-veined hands sorting herbs and tracing out runes. “My grandmother died when I was ten, and my parents the next year. Car accident.” She rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling as she continued. “The court placed me with my other grandmother. My dad’s mom. She spent two years thinking I was crazy or maybe possessed. Maritza was in Italy, but when she found out what had happened… She came and got me.”

The corner of the bed sank slightly and Dylan’s hand slid over hers. “And she taught you magic?”

“Along with my mother and Gram.” She clutched his hand. “But they weren’t very practiced, and there were a lot of things I didn’t know when Maritza took me to Europe.”

“I haven’t met many witches, but you seem pretty strong to me.” He rubbed his thumb over the backs of her fingers in a soft caress that sent a shiver through her. “I can feel you. Your energy, or power, or whatever it is. Like another werewolf.”

“Yeah.” She rolled to her side. He was warmth, a flame, and she was drawn inexorably to him. “It’s the same sort of magic, just working in different ways.”

“Show me how it works. Show me something magical.” His voice had turned decidedly husky.

“Magical? You mean like this?” She watched him as she whispered for darkness and then light. The room dimmed, the lamps flickering and dying. When the room lit again, it was from tiny pinpoints of light that shimmered to life between them and floated up and around the bed.

Dylan stretched out beside her, his hand still curled around hers. The flickering lights cast most of his face in gently changing shadows, but she could see the slow grin that curved his lips.

It was still there when he rolled to face her and lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

“No.” She leaned over him, her heart thumping painfully, and covered his hand with hers. “Because I’m going to kiss you.”

His breath tickled her cheek as he laughed. “A perfectly acceptable alterna—”

She cut him off with an open-mouthed kiss. It was too hard, too aggressive, and Sasha didn’t give a damn. He’d spent the last week tormenting her with his proximity, his smiles and the heat of his body.

A groan escaped him a moment before his hand slid around her waist. He dragged her tight against his body, so tight there was no question that he was already aroused. His other hand came up to tangle in her wet hair as he parted his lips under hers.

She felt the lights above them explode and drift down in remnants of magic. “I need you.” The words were hungry and muffled, spoken into his mouth. “Dylan.”

“Shh.” His tongue swiped along her lower lip and he nipped lightly at it before rolling them over. She ended up on her back with Dylan over her, his weight braced on his hands. He kissed her gently at first, and then harder as his hips settled over hers.

She tried to remember the last time she’d had sex. It had to have been Spain, the wizard in Madrid she always called when she passed through. The memory slipped through her fingers, hazy and finally driven to obsolescence by Dylan’s tongue slicking over hers. It had been another life, a different woman from the one arching her hips off the bed now.

Dylan lifted his head and nuzzled her cheek. His breath skated over her skin, and he lowered his lips to her ear. “Do you have any idea how badly I want to touch you?” A rock of his hips, and he groaned softly. “I’ve dreamt about it.”

Her entire body tightened in anticipation, and Sasha slipped her hands under the hem of his T-shirt. “What did you dream? Tell me.”

He scraped his teeth over her ear. “I touched you.” He shifted his weight and got one hand to her waist and under her shirt. His mouth left a hot trail of kisses as he traced a path to where her pulse fluttered underneath her skin. She felt the wet warmth of his tongue just before his groan vibrated over her skin. “Tasted you.”

It was positively poetic next to the sweaty, feverish dreams she’d been having. “Mine pretty much revolved around fucking you until neither one of us could move.”

His fingers tightened around her waist, and he closed his teeth on her throat with a low growl.

She half expected to freeze up, for the bite to bring memories of her imprisonment crashing in on her. But it brought only pleasure, the kind that exploded through her in a shower of hot sparks and put her earlier light show to shame. “Yes…”

He licked the spot before moving down her body, dropping a kiss to her collarbone and another to the hollow at the base of her throat. “Tell me,” he murmured against her skin as his lips traced the upper curve of her breast left bare by the thin white tank top. “What were you dreaming about that made you moan in your sleep?”

Sasha was beyond embarrassment, and his words drew only a throaty laugh of amusement. “You heard me, then. I wondered.” His tongue flicked over her skin, and she gasped. “You. Always you, naked beside me. Or—or behind me.”

“Over you, under you…” He caught the neckline of her shirt between his teeth and dragged it down with another playful growl.

The strap of her tank top slid down her arm as he bared her breast, and she dug her nails into his lower back. “Inside me.”

He froze with his lips poised above her nipple and closed his eyes as a groan escaped him, this one dismayed instead of aroused. “Fuck. I don’t have condoms.”

Neither did she. The only place to get them in Red Rock was from Cindy’s clinic, and Sasha would have gladly suffered celibacy rather than ask Dylan’s ex. “Does it matter? Aren’t there bases?” Her own voice sounded desperate, yearning. “Let’s run around some bases.”

“Oh yeah. As many as we can hit.” He flashed her a hot look, his dark brown eyes looking nearly black in the dim light, and he reached for the hem of her shorts. “And tomorrow I’ll buy condoms.”

“Tomorrow.” Her shorts and panties hit the floor, and she held her breath when he drew her legs apart. Then he stroked his hand down the center of her body, and she forgot to breathe altogether.

He didn’t waste time. His mouth landed on the inside of her knee, and she felt the soft scrape of his teeth as he growled softly. The next kiss landed on her inner thigh, and his tongue swept over her skin as he pushed her shirt up high enough to bare her breasts.

When he spoke, his voice held an edge she’d never heard before. “How do you feel about running second and third bases together?”

“Wait, together—” Her heart skipped a beat, and she shoved up on her elbows. “You mean you covering them simultaneously, or both of us…?”

Dylan’s hoarse laugh was strained. He laid a hand on the center of her chest and urged her back to the bed. “Uh-uh. I’m the only one up to bat at the moment, sweetheart.” He cupped her breast as his breath tickled her inner thigh. “Just…close your eyes.”

It was an order, and Sasha shivered as she complied. A moment later Dylan’s mouth landed on her, his tongue tracing and teasing over her aching flesh. The pleasure was sharp and sweet, and she choked out a moan as her eyes snapped open. “Oh, God.”

He just made a low noise of approval and caught her nipple between his fingers. Sasha grabbed his shoulders, and he responded by flicking his tongue over her clit, bringing her hips off the bed.

It took her a second to realize that the needy cries echoing through the dark room were hers. Of course they are, she thought fuzzily. Only she and Dylan were there, and Dylan couldn’t scream with his mouth on her, his tongue stroking her faster with every passing heartbeat.

One hand held her hips still as he caressed her, his touch determined, relentless, as if he could sense every twist of need inside her and give her exactly what she needed. He sped up and slowed down, drawing her toward the brink and then holding her off, until she was shaking uncontrollably.

Orgasm seized her suddenly, almost violently, and Sasha chanted Dylan’s name as pleasure swelled through her. Each wave was stronger than the last, and he barely gave her the chance to catch her breath before he eased two fingers inside her and started all over again.

“Dylan!” Her voice had gone hoarse, and she clenched both hands in his hair and tugged. “God, right—right there…”

He hummed his approval and centered his touch on the perfect spot. Ecstasy no longer coursed through her in waves but burned like fire, constant and consuming. Sasha screamed, vaguely aware of the solid strength of his shoulders beneath her hands and his skin yielding under her fingernails. Dylan.

The touches slowed as he eased her through the last shaking tremors. She felt his lips on her thigh as he whispered her name and rubbed her hip.

Sasha tried to sit up and reach for him, but her arms wouldn’t hold her. She collapsed to the bed with an apologetic moan. “You broke me. It’s my turn, but you broke me.”

“Shh.” He slipped one arm under her legs and the other under her back to lift her easily. Within moments, Dylan had her snuggled under the blankets, and he stripped off his shirt and joined her. His chest was solid and warm against her back, and his breath tickled as he nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Tomorrow is your turn. Tomorrow you can do whatever you want to me. Right now, we sleep.”

She turned her face to his and kissed him gently. “You’re calling the game on account of exhaustion?”

“Mmm. I want you rested up before the rematch.”

Having him wrapped around her, his heart beating in time with hers, was painfully intimate. Every moment of the last week had been leading to this, to the soft afterglow of pleasure slowly giving way to the contentment of having Dylan beside her.

Neither of them had been sleeping well, and Sasha barely had the strength to speak. “You’re not going to stop being so damn wonderful until I’m in love with you, are you?”

He was silent for several heartbeats. Then his thumb swept over her hand and he kissed the top of her head. “You deserve wonderful.”

Then I deserve you. “Good night.”

“Good night, Sasha.”

***

Dylan pulled open the back door on the SUV and hesitated as he surveyed the impressive array of weaponry and weapon-related accoutrements. “Is any of this going to blow up while I’m looking for the tape?”

Joe answered from beneath the hood. “Yes, Gennaro. I absolutely drive around with combustible shit jostling around in the back of my Blazer.”

“Why do you drive around with this stuff in the back of your Blazer period? I thought Gavin said this wasn’t that dangerous.”

Joe peeked around the edge of the SUV. “I’m sorry, what’s the question?”

“You’re a scary fucker, Joe.” Dylan pulled open one of the bags and dug through it until he found a roll of electrical tape. He held it out so Joe could see it. “This what you wanted?”

“Yeah. If I can wrap this hose, it’ll get us to the next town, and I can replace it.”

Dylan handed him the tape. “Where’s that?”

“Kearney, I think. It’s only a couple miles down the road.” Joe tested the hose and hissed. Then he shook his hand and began to guide the tape around the fat black hose. “Even if they don’t have a parts store, there’ll be a gas station or general store that sells what I need.”

“Gotcha.” Dylan glanced through the windshield and found Brynn still passed out in the backseat, probably sleeping off the sedative Cindy had provided. “Do we need to find someplace for Brynn to change tonight? I could check the map.”

“I took care of it.” Joe tore the tape and cleared his throat. “You and Sasha will be all right at the motel alone, right?”

Dylan felt like a boy who had been caught doing something naughty, which was completely unfair considering the sorts of noises he’d been blocking out the night before. The fact that Sasha had drifted to peaceful, oblivious sleep while he’d fought to ignore Joe and Brynn’s two encore performances just made it worse.

He cast Joe a slightly annoyed look. “Maybe we should just get rooms on opposite sides of the damn motel.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea.”

“You got that?”

“This?” Joe jiggled the hose and shrugged. “Yeah, I think it’ll hold.”

Dylan nodded and strode back to knock on Sasha’s window. “Joe’s almost got the hose fixed, but we’re going to have to stop in the next town.”

She glanced at Brynn, still sleeping beside her. “Will we need to stay there tonight?”

“Probably not. Joe found a place to stay tonight where he and Brynn can…” Run until they collapse and fuck until they pass out. “Burn off some energy.”

“So it’s an easy fix? The truck?”

“I guess.” Dylan ran his thumb along the top of the door and tried to think of a way to phrase his next request that wouldn’t earn him any more significant looks from Joe. “If there’s a grocery store or something in town, you and Brynn could pick up some food and stuff.” And stuff. Congratulations, Dylan, you’re now seventeen again.

She met his gaze, her awareness almost palpable. “I can handle it.”

“Good.” No need to tell her they’d be alone in the motel. The last thing he wanted her considering was how easily Joe and Brynn had heard every moan she’d uttered the night before. “Do you need any cash? Gavin gave me some.”

“No.” She laughed softly. “I’ve actually missed being able to use my checking account.”

It was a reminder of how tiny his own bank account had been. Sam hadn’t given him details on how she’d managed to secure the money, but the paltry sum had barely filled an envelope, even measured out in twenties. A second envelope in his bag held five times as much in crisp fifty-dollar bills, a small fortune Sam had handed over like spare change.

Sasha touched his hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He turned his hand over and closed his fingers around hers. “The last few years have been hard on my manly pride, but I’m getting over it.”

“Uh-huh.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “If last night didn’t fix your manly pride and then some, I don’t know what will.”

Even if Brynn was asleep, Joe was ten feet away at most and plenty close enough to hear even the softest whisper. Reminding her of that would embarrass her… But not as much as if you don’t. He jerked his head in Joe’s direction and grinned. “Let’s talk about it later when wolves with superhearing aren’t pretending they can’t hear us.”

A deep blush spread over her cheeks, and she grimaced. “Sorry.”

Dylan rubbed his thumb over the backs of her fingers and resisted the temptation to say something really explicit just to annoy Joe. “It takes some getting used to.”

She smiled weakly. “I keep forgetting.”

“It’s okay.” He leaned down, and used years of practice at pitching his voice out of the range of werewolf ears to whisper a promise in her ear. “Tonight no one will be listening.”

Her pulse sped, and her breathing hitched. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Brynn stirred with a sleepy murmur. Dylan straightened. “Why don’t you see if you can wake her up while I check with Joe. We should be moving soon.”

The hood slammed down and Joe appeared, wiping his hands on a rag. “We’d better get going if we’re going to make up lost time.”

Dylan caught the tape Joe tossed to him and whistled as he walked to the back of the SUV. There were only a few more hours of driving before he and Sasha got a room to themselves and the privacy to make good use of it. It was all too easy to conjure up the memory of her skin flushing under his mouth, and of the way she sounded when he made her come.

In the ten lonely years since his change, he’d spent a lot of his nights in bars. He’d never gone home alone unless he’d wanted to, but the women he chose were the ones who only wanted a night of impersonal sex. Women who wanted him gone the next morning, who wouldn’t tempt him with a second date that might become a third, that might become something serious enough to attract the attention of the pack.

His hands shook as he shoved the electrical tape back into one of the battered duffel bags. Sex with Sasha wouldn’t be impersonal. It wouldn’t be shallow and meaningless. It would be magical, figuratively and maybe literally, and a big step down a road that would very likely end in heartache.

She’d warned him of as much. She’d told him flat out, so there would be no misunderstandings. The only place he wanted to live was the one place she wanted to leave.

And all he could think of was touching her.

Dylan slammed the back door of the SUV shut with enough force to make it rattle. Gennaro, you are royally fucked.

Sasha shivered in the brightly lit aisle and wished she’d worn a heavier shirt. “Should we pick up some lunch while we’re here, Brynn?”

Brynn started and dragged her attention from the front of the store. “Huh? Lunch, yeah. Lunch is good. And snacks.”

“Are you okay?” She’d been acting strange since they’d walked in. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Brynn shook herself and looked at the shelves around them. “Let’s get our stuff and get out. This place gives me the creeps.”

They had a good twenty minutes before Joe and Dylan finished fixing the truck, but being so far away from Joe must have been taking a toll on Brynn. “I have to grab something. Do you want to meet me in the deli?”

“No.” She snatched a bag of candy from the shelf. “I’ll come with you. I don’t think we should split up. Something’s off here.”

Which meant Sasha had to buy condoms in front of one of Dylan’s oldest friends. “I need some shampoo and some other things.”

“Fine.” A bag of licorice joined the chocolate in Brynn’s basket, and she jerked her head toward the back of the store. “Let’s go this way.”

The midday crowd was thin, and Sasha added things to the basket she carried as they walked. She turned down the aisle containing personal care items and stopped in front of the condoms and pregnancy tests.

Brynn’s gaze fell on the pregnancy tests, and the jagged edges of magic inside her flared. Her shoulders stiffened as she stalked past them and studied the small assortment of condoms. “Guess asking Cindy for condoms would have been awkward for Dylan.”

“‘Awkward’ doesn’t begin to cover it.” Though it applied handily to the situation now. Sasha reached for a small box. “You’ve known him a long time.”

“Yeah. Dylan’s a good guy.” Brynn reached out and plucked a shiny purple box of condoms from the rack and dropped it into Sasha’s basket. “He also saved me from the embarrassing task of having to ask my big sister to take me shopping for condoms.”

“Oh.” Sasha eyed the box in the basket and turned her gaze to Brynn. “I like him a lot.”

The tight look in Brynn’s eyes softened a little. “Good. Dylan deserves to have someone to like him a lot.”

Guilt made her babble. “I told him. I mean, I tried, but I don’t know if he understood, really.”

Brynn patted Sasha awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m thinking he understood enough. He seemed a lot happier this morning.”

The words hit her like a blow, and Sasha gripped the plastic handle more tightly. “I’m not staying in Red Rock.”

“Oh.” Brynn studied her for so long Sasha had to will herself not to take a step back. Then she tilted her head to the side. “You told him that?”

“I tried, but I think he got distracted by some of the other things I said.”

One eyebrow went up. “Must have been pretty distracting stuff.”

She couldn’t tell if Brynn was joking or not. “We were talking about how much I owe everyone in town. Like Keith and Gavin and—and Dylan.”

“And presumably he told you that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard?”

A hysterical giggle welled up in her throat. “Yeah, we covered that part.”

“Speaking as one of the two people who would be dead without you…yeah. It’s pretty fucking stupid.”

Getting into the specifics of tradition with Brynn in the family-planning section of a small-town grocery was a feat beyond her at the moment. “Point taken.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s okay to hurt Dylan.” Brynn’s gaze drifted back to the front of the store. “Do you feel anything weird about this place?”

Sasha closed her eyes and concentrated. For a moment, something flickered at the edge of her consciousness, at once familiar and strange. “Maybe. It’s almost like… I don’t know.” Like being in Red Rock. She shivered.

In seconds the power in Brynn went from nervous to tense, flaring so erratically that it drowned out whatever that flicker had been. Brynn caught Sasha’s arm with a soft, distressed noise and tugged her toward the front of the store. “Let’s pay and get out of here. We need to be with Joe and Dylan.”

In spite of her haste, Brynn dragged her to the last open register, at the far end of the store. The bored-looking woman rang their purchases quickly, and Sasha glanced around, watching for anything out of the ordinary.

It wasn’t until they headed for the exit, bags in hand, that the same odd thrill of energy tickled through Sasha. She looked over and found the cashier in the first lane watching them with fear in her eyes.

Brynn’s gaze followed hers, and she stiffened. Her nostrils flared, and her hand tightened almost painfully around Sasha’s arm. The cashier dropped her gaze and hunched her shoulders in a clear show of submission, and something in Brynn’s tense stance eased.

They walked out into the midmorning sun, and Sasha pulled her arm carefully free of Brynn’s grasp. “Do you think she has a pack here?”

“I don’t know.” Brynn’s voice sounded a little lost. “But she was so scared. Why was she so scared of me?”

Sasha thought of the raw, jagged power that burst from Brynn when she was scared or upset. “It might not be you. She might not be used to other wolves.”

“I should have known she was there. But I couldn’t smell anything but cleanser and food and too many humans, not for sure…” Brynn shivered. “But I knew I didn’t belong there. I don’t belong here at all. This is someone else’s territory.”

“We’re not staying. Just passing through, so there’s no reason for anyone to get upset.”

“I know.” But Brynn sounded unsure. She shivered again and reached for Sasha’s hand. “I have a bad feeling. We need to…we need to go. I need to find Joe.”

They’d parked the truck in the lot of an auto-parts chain store a few blocks away. Sasha gripped her friend’s hand and tried to look reassuring. “It’s okay. Come on. We’ll hurry.”

They made it to the end of the street before Brynn froze. Her head whipped to the side and both of her bags hit the sidewalk. “Dylan. Dylan’s…” A growl rumbled up from somewhere in her chest, and she shot off down the side street without another word.

“What?” Panic washed over her in a cold wave, and she followed Brynn at a run. “What’s going—”

Then she heard it, the dull sounds of fists hitting flesh and pained grunts and growls. She rounded the corner of the building and stumbled when she saw three men in a circle around Dylan.

Dylan looked a little worse for the wear, but he wasn’t the only one. As Sasha watched he ducked another punch that was almost too fast to see and sent the attacker barreling into one of his companions. The third grazed Dylan’s shoulder with his fist a second before Brynn let out an enraged snarl and jumped on his back.

“No—” Dylan’s gaze snapped to Brynn and then past her to land on Sasha. He met her eyes, and grim determination disappeared in a rush of concern that sent his power surging toward her.

Oh God, run.

The thought echoed through her head, but it wasn’t hers. One of the men punched Dylan in the back, and a sudden flash of pain startled Sasha. Feeling what he felt meant at least part of the spell she’d done in Red Rock was still active.

She and Dylan were still linked.

A second man grabbed Dylan’s shirt and drew back his fist. Sasha closed her eyes against the sight, clenched her fists and let the gathering magic inside her explode.

She felt when it suffused Dylan. A low snarl rumbled out of his chest, and Sasha opened her eyes just in time to see Dylan slide out of the path of the punch, moving fast even for a werewolf. His hand closed on his attacker’s arm and he pivoted and jerked back hard enough to send the man stumbling into the wall behind them.

Brynn hit the wall a second later with a pained grunt. The man who had shoved her there glanced around and, obviously judging him to be the greater threat, advanced on Dylan.

It gave Brynn time to gasp in a breath. “Dylan, there’s another one—grocery store—”

The man advancing on Dylan spun and rushed Brynn. Dylan lunged and grabbed the back of his shirt, and Sasha could feel his confusion trembling through the magic stretched out between them.

“Stop,” she urged quietly. “The one in the store is a woman, and she was scared to see us. That’s all they are, all of them. Scared.”

Dylan swept the man’s feet out from under him and dropped him to the ground. “Stay,” he commanded, his voice low.

The man snarled, and one of the remaining men took off at a run in the direction of the grocery store. Brynn lunged away from the wall as if to follow, but froze when Dylan snapped her name. “Brynn. Back down.” His voice carried the power Sasha had given him, and Brynn froze.

The only strange werewolf left standing watched Dylan with brittle fear. “You came into our territory. You were going after Michael’s mate.”

“No. I wasn’t.” Dylan held out his hand to Sasha without looking at her. “We’re only passing through.”

Though he tried to hide the pain, it hit her when she slid her hand into his. He tensed at her gasp, and Sasha forced herself to relax and breathe. “It’s dangerous to attack strangers. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

Dylan pulled Sasha against his side, tucking her body to his in a gesture that silently laid claim to her. “Brynn, are you okay?”

Brynn lifted her fingers to her split lip and winced. “A little bruised. I’ll heal.”

“Good.” Dylan looked steady and confident, but the arm around her waist shook. “Go look after your packmate before her mate shows up. He’s a lot less understanding than I am.”

The man waited for his companion to groan his way to his feet. When they were both upright they backed away in wary silence until they reached the edge of the building, then broke into a run.

When they were alone in the alley, Sasha squeezed Dylan’s hand. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll live.” He pressed a hand to his side and winced. “One of them might have cracked one of my ribs before you showed up, though. They were playing for keeps.”

The lump in her throat threatened to choke her. “We dropped our bags back there. I’ll get them, and we can get out of here.”

Brynn shook her head and stalked past them. “You stay with him, Sasha. I’ll get our stuff. I need to move.”

“We go together,” Dylan countered, and though the words were quiet, they were still firm. He kept his hand curled around Sasha’s as he squared his shoulders and followed after Brynn.

It didn’t take long to retrieve their purchases. Brynn gathered up the items that had rolled out of one of the bags and picked up everything without a word, leaving Sasha to help support Dylan as they made their way back to the Blazer.

Joe looked up from the back of the SUV, frowned and stomped toward them. He didn’t stop until he had Brynn’s face framed in his hands and tilted up to the light. “What the fuck happened?”

Brynn’s eyes drifted shut as the wild magic inside her found a focus in Joe and began to settle. Some of the harsh magical glare that had followed her since the fight faded, and Sasha looked away.

After a few moments of silence Brynn answered his question. “There’s a pack here. Weak wolves. One of their women was in the grocery store and they didn’t like it when Dylan headed in that direction.”

Joe touched Brynn’s lip and swore. “Do we need to do anything?”

“No.” Sasha urged Dylan to the backseat of the truck. “We just need to go.”

For a moment, she thought Joe might argue. It was clear he was fighting instincts that told him no one hurt his friends, his mate, and walked away. “All right.”

Sasha opened the door and helped Dylan onto the seat. “I can help you.”

Dylan smiled wanly. “I’m okay. Let’s just get on the road. Trust me, in a day or two I’ll be good as new.”

He’d dealt with beatings so often he knew how long it would take to heal. The fact tore through her, leaving pain in its wake as she climbed in after him. “But if I can help, why not?”

Brynn buckled her seatbelt, and Joe started the engine before he even settled into his seat. “We’ll be on the interstate in a few minutes.”

Sasha touched Dylan’s shoulder. “Come here.”

After a few moments he gave in and inched across the seat. “Is whatever you want to do safe?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Sasha.” His tone was chiding.

She held out her hand. “It’s safe.” He didn’t have to know she’d do it even if it wasn’t.

He studied her for so long she wondered if he’d caught a stray thought. But then he laid his hand in hers.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. At once, his pain began to seep into the corners of her consciousness. She could draw it in, take it from him, but he’d pull away as soon as he realized what she was doing.

Instead, she focused on smoothing out the rough, jagged edges of his pain to make it more bearable. It took longer, and she knew the effect would be minimal. He would still hurt, and the knowledge made her ache, but this was all he would allow.

Finally, she opened her eyes and whispered, “Not so bad, right?”

“Thank you.” He squeezed her hand with a smile, and she got the feeling he was thanking her more for her restraint than for her action. “We can pick up some first aid supplies before we check into the motel tonight, if you don’t mind patching me up a little.”

It was a far cry from the way Sasha had planned to spend the evening, but she didn’t care. She’d be with Dylan, and she was starting to realize that was what mattered most. “I can do that.”

Chapter Six

Whatever Brynn and Joe were discussing, it was probably important. It was probably vital to their mission or their survival or something of dire consequence that meant Dylan should absolutely pay attention.

And he might have been able to, if he’d sat on the other side of the table from Sasha.

He inched his leg over and rubbed his knee against hers. Her breath caught in the tiniest little gasp, barely even audible, and still it shot heat straight to his cock. His body didn’t care that his ribs still ached when he moved too fast or that his back was a patchwork of bruises in the ugly shades it took humans a week to develop. He’d tasted her, felt her shudder under his hands…

The two nights spent sleeping chastely next to her while she worried over his injuries had been unpleasantly like torture.

A glass hit the table with a hollow thud and Dylan started. Brynn glared at him from across the table, though he couldn’t tell if it was frustration or grudging amusement hiding behind her wide gray eyes. “How many hits to the head did you take, Dylan?”

If he spoke now, his voice would betray his arousal in a heartbeat. He lifted his water glass to buy time and wished he could dump it over his head. Or onto my lap…

Joe rubbed the side of his face. “Apparently, Adam Dubois has maintained a peaceful relationship with the Bedagi Creek pack for quite a few years now. Gavin doesn’t know if Dubois is aware that something’s up in town, though, because he can’t reach him.”

Sasha seemed to be paying rapt attention to Joe’s words. Then Dylan felt her hand sliding up his thigh.

If it slid much higher, Sasha was going to find out just how much her touch affected him. Dylan cleared his throat and tried to concentrate on Joe’s words. “How does Gavin usually get in touch with the guy?”

“There’s a young alpha pair that lives outside town. They’re friendly with him and handle all of his business so he can be a reclusive, whittling hermit or something.”

All Dylan could feel was the warmth of Sasha’s fingers, taunting him even through the fabric of his jeans. He scrambled for something intelligent to say, but only one thing came to mind. “Oh.”

Brynn laughed and pushed away from the table. “I’m leaving before they do it on the table. You going to stay and watch, baby, or are you coming with me?”

“Right behind you, sweetheart.” Joe threw several folded bills on the table and rose. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. And remember, this place is nicer than the last few we stayed at. They probably have cameras in the elevators.”

Dylan tried to summon a little righteous indignation, but he couldn’t even manage that. Not when he’d been considering trying to get a hand under Sasha’s shirt during the interminable ride to the third floor. “See you tomorrow, Brynn. Joe.”

Sasha waved to them and laughed ruefully. “I suppose we’re not very subtle.”

He rubbed his thumb along her wrist. “I’m not feeling very subtle right now.”

“Neither am I.” Her eyes met his, and he saw his own need reflected in her beautiful eyes. “Can we go upstairs?”

Joe had probably dropped enough money to cover their bill and then some, but Dylan wrestled another few bills free of his wallet before pulling Sasha to her feet. “Yes. Upstairs.”

It was only a few steps to their hotel next door, a quaint brick building with four floors of small guest rooms. Sasha stopped outside and fixed him with a stern look. “Before we get all…wrapped up in each other, are you all right?”

No power on earth could compel him to admit to any infirmity that might earn him another night relegated to the role of patient. Sasha seemed to have an almost uncanny knack for sensing when he was downplaying his own discomfort, so he didn’t bother lying. Instead he bent down and let his breath dance over her ear. “If it makes you feel better I’ll let you be on top.”

She sucked in a shaky breath and gripped his shirt. “You fight dirty.”

“Mmm.” He kissed her earlobe gently before straightening and urging her through the hotel door. “Just wait.”

The elevator dinged as soon as Sasha pushed the button, and she tugged him into the car. “Think there’s really a camera?”

“The more important question…” the doors whispered shut and he caught her waist and dragged her to him, “…is if we care.”

Her head fell back, and the pale softness of her throat called to him. “I only care about you.”

Mine. It was a primal feeling, and an unmistakable one. The wolf didn’t seem to care that Sasha wasn’t of their kind. There was magic in her, power that made them both giddy, and the territorial instincts he’d never felt before he’d met her roared to life. He could sense the flutter of her pulse in her throat as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her skin.

Sasha whimpered and slipped her hands into his hair. “Are you sure it won’t hurt you?”

“Sweetheart, we are rapidly reaching the point where stopping is going to be a lot less comfortable.” He dragged his tongue over her pulse before teasing her with the softest scrape of teeth. “If you want to stop, tell me. But if you don’t…”

“I don’t want to stop,” she murmured.

He barely heard the soft chime announcing the elevator had reached their floor. He glanced up just long enough to make sure no one was in the way before backing her out of the elevator. For a moment he was tempted to hoist her up and carry her to their room. Go easy on your bruised ribs until later, you macho ass.

Sasha laughed and reached into his front pocket. He couldn’t help but groan, not when her fingers were so damn close to his aching cock. She flashed him a wicked smile when she freed their room key and held it aloft. “Let me open the door.”

Dylan spun her and urged her down the hallway. “Sooner would be better, or I’m going to start sticking my hands in your clothes.”

“Promises, promises.” In spite of her casual words, her hands shook when she tried to unlock the door.

Dylan slid his hand down her arm to cover hers as he molded his body to her back. He fit the key into the lock with a low laugh. “Nice to know I’m having an effect.”

“Like you can’t tell anytime I’m near you.”

He rubbed against her ass just enough to make it clear how turned on he was, then grasped the door handle. “Now you can tell too.”

Sasha moaned and fumbled with the door. It swung open, and she stumbled inside. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and her face was flushed. “Shut the door.” She began to unsnap her shirt as she spoke.

He reached for her before the door slammed shut. One tug undid the remaining three snaps, and Dylan dropped to his knees in front of her as he dragged her shirt down. His mouth landed on the soft skin just below the band of her bra, and he growled softly and cupped her ass. “I can smell how much you want me.”

Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor too. Her skirt fluttered up, and she dragged his hand high on her bare thigh as she kissed him, hard.

Even the nagging pain from his bruised ribs faded in the rush of pleasure that flooded him. He got one hand into her hair as he took control of the kiss. Dominance in bed had never seemed terribly important before, but he couldn’t deny the instinctive thrill at the way her body melted for him. He wanted her stretched out in front of him, bare to his touch and begging for him. He wanted her so lost in sensation she couldn’t think of anything but him.

He tore his mouth from hers with a groan and got a good enough grip on her hips to lift her to the bed. Then he rose to his feet and dragged at his shirt, fighting to get it over his head without ripping it.

“Let me.” Sasha knelt on the bed and eased him out of the black cotton. She dusted his bare chest and shoulders with kisses and tiny teasing licks of her tongue. Dylan closed his eyes and threaded his fingers through her hair, content for the moment to let her explore.

She moaned again. This time, her breath feathered across his skin and made him shiver. Her hands fell to his belt, and she closed her teeth on the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

Instinct roused, swift and brutal, and he struggled against the sudden need to shove her to the bed and cover her body with his. His fingers tightened in her hair of their own volition, and he jerked her head back just enough to meet her eyes. “You keep doing things like that and you might not get a chance to be on top.”

Her eyes gleamed with lust, and her voice went husky. “Take me if you want. I don’t care how, I just need you, Dylan.”

The condoms were still in their bag on the bedside table. He released her and took a step back. “Get naked.”

Sasha kicked off her shoes and reached for the clasp of her bra. It took her longer to wiggle out of her clothes than it should have because she kept her gaze on him, watching every movement closely. By the time he had kicked off his shoes and dropped his jeans, she’d just stripped off her skirt.

Dylan tossed the box of condoms on the bed next to her. “You like watching me, do you?”

She sat up, her hair spilling over her shoulders. “You’re beautiful.”

Not words he’d heard often. Maybe not ever. But it was impossible to doubt her sincerity when she watched him with such need, such passion.

He crawled onto the bed and coaxed her to stretch out on her side so he could curl up behind her. He dropped a kiss to her shoulder as he gathered her hair up from the back of her neck. “You’re beautiful too. You’re gorgeous.”

“Nervous,” she corrected. “It’s silly. I just…want it to be good for you. The way you made it for me.”

“Not much doubt of that.” He let his hand drift over her hip and down to dip between her legs. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you need it.”

The way she jerked into his touch spoke more loudly than her shaky words. “It’s all I can think about. Making love to you.”

It was hard to breathe. He got the condom on somehow and then he pushed inside her, reveling in the warmth of her body and the way she tried to muffle a startled moan as he rocked into her.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her breathing rough. “Yes.”

He pressed his open mouth to her shoulder. It would have been easy to roll her to her stomach, to sink into her body and lose himself in fast, frantic thrusts, but it wouldn’t have been the same. He’d always done his best to satisfy his lovers, but he’d never craved a woman’s pleasure so completely before.

He closed his teeth lightly on her skin before lifting his mouth to her ear. “Touch yourself. Show me what you like.”

Sasha’s hand trembled over his and dropped between her thighs. “Slow,” she whispered, “and hard.”

“Is that what you want?” He eased her leg up just enough that his next rocking thrust took him deeper. “Slow.” Another thrust, and he couldn’t keep from groaning as her body gripped his cock. “Hard.”

“Like that.” She tilted her hips back, grinding against him, and a shudder shook through her. “That’s what I want.”

He eased her over until she was half under him and he had the leverage to move just a little harder, a little deeper. Her hair tumbled over her shoulder, and the pale nape of her neck taunted him. “Tell me again.” He lowered his mouth to her skin.

Sasha braced her hand on the bed. “Can’t you feel it?” She arched under him with a quiet, desperate noise. “I’ve never needed anyone like this.”

Magic trembled in the air between them, the power that made his wolf hungry for possession, for dominance. He bit the back of her neck and unleashed the tiniest bit of his supernatural strength. Not enough to hurt her, but enough that his next thrust made her writhe in pleasure.

An answering wave of energy exploded from her along with a hoarse cry. “Harder, Dylan.”

He gritted his teeth against the urge to obey. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I won’t let you,” she promised with another shudder. “Please, Dylan. You’ve been inside me for so long, but not like this. Not this good.”

The growl tore free of him before he could stop it as his control slipped. He eased his hand under her body and stroked her clit as he surged into her. “Come. I want to see you come.”

Sasha hissed out a curse and a plea and tightened around his cock. Her soft skin brushed his as she moved in counterpoint, taking him deeper. “Yes, just—” She pushed off the bed, shifting her hips slightly, and screamed with his next thrust.

It was the best damn thing he’d ever felt, and he hadn’t even come yet. She clenched around him, hot and tight, and her pleasure filled the air with magic—pure, raw power that spilled over him and made him gasp. Thoughts of pushing her further, of holding on until she’d come again and again shattered into a thousand pieces as he gave in to the magic. Gave in to her.

Scalding heat rushed over him and he did the only thing he could. He closed his teeth on the back of her neck again and muffled his groan as he came.

Sasha reached up and held his head to hers, panting gently while he rocked and stilled. “Are you okay?”

The words were so out of place he couldn’t even process them. “What?”

“Your ribs.” She wiggled and grinned. “But that’s flattering.”

Dylan bit her with another groan. “Quit that, or I’m going to forget my ribs and we’ll be doing this a second time.” And maybe a third.

She breathed a regretful sigh and stretched a little. “Uh-uh. I like you, and I want to keep you intact and fully functional.”

“Good to know.” He eased from her body before urging her onto her back. Her hair spread out over the pillow in a tangled mess, and his heart ached as he smoothed a few strands off her forehead. “You’re so beautiful.”

A blush spread over her chest and face, and she bit his hand gently. “That’s what I want you to see when you look at me.”

“I do.” Her lips were soft under his thumb, and he leaned in to nuzzle her cheek. “Too bad they’re already expecting us in Bedagi Creek tomorrow. I’d be tempted to find an excuse to stay in bed with you.”

“But we have work to do.” She rolled over and pressed her cheek to his arm. “Could we get away with feeling each other up in the backseat of the Blazer?”

Joe would murder him. “Maybe.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes grew bright, and she bit her lip. “Do we need to talk about this?”

The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his warm fuzzy feeling with another kindly reminder that she had no intention of staying in the one place that felt like home to him. He kissed her lower lip softly. “In the morning, when we’ve slept and had coffee.”

Sasha shook her head. “No talking, I think. Let’s just be…whatever we are.”

“Happy. What I am is happy.”

Her smile was shy. “So am I.”

Warmth filled him, along with a pure, uncomplicated peace he hadn’t felt in ten years. Even time spent with Brynn and Abby over the years had been tinged with longing, with the wish that he could enjoy their company without the worry and the guilt that some day they’d pay the price for it. He couldn’t remember the last time everything inside him had been so wonderfully, perfectly content.

It was the difference between surviving and being okay. He was okay.

Now I just need to stay this way.

Chapter Seven

The first thing she noticed about Irene and Lawrence was that they were both scared, but not of her.

As Joe shook hands with the alphas of Bedagi Creek, Sasha gripped Dylan’s hand and flashed him a questioning look. He gave a tiny little shake of his head, and she fixed a smile on her face.

“Welcome to Bedagi Creek.” Lawrence turned his gaze on Dylan and Sasha, and there was something there that was eerily assessing. A moment later he grinned. “We haven’t had a witch visit in too long. Some of the pack spells are failing. Perhaps you could assist us.”

“I’d be happy to help.” The man’s gaze made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and she felt compelled to add, “If I can, I mean. I’m only an apprentice.”

Dylan moved closer and lifted a hand to her shoulder. “I can help too.”

“Dylan and Sasha have a task that will take them out of town for a while,” Joe said, “but they’ll be back.”

Lawrence returned his attention to Joe, but his wife’s gaze stayed fixed on Sasha. She stood stiffly by her husband’s side, and the frustrated fear in her eyes began to fade a little.

There was nothing menacing about the woman’s expression, but Sasha shivered. Something was obviously terribly wrong.

Joe had apparently come to the same conclusion. He lowered his voice and leaned in closer to Lawrence. “Gavin wanted you to know we’re at your disposal. Anything you need.”

Lawrence’s friendly smile faltered. “I’ve heard Gavin has too many competent alphas in town. Are you here to help, or to measure my windows for new curtains?”

He sounded almost jealous, but Sasha supposed that wasn’t surprising. Maritza had told her that few of the sanctuaries in the country had resources as reliable and plentiful as Red Rock’s. “Everyone has useful talents,” she murmured.

After a tense moment, Lawrence seemed to relax. “Your witch is right. We all have our gifts, and Red Rock has more than most. Since you’re willing to share yours, it’s only fair we do the same. Irene has prepared lunch, if the four of you would like to join us?”

Dylan squeezed her hand lightly before speaking. “Sasha and I promised to carry a message to Adam Dubois first. Gavin hasn’t heard from him in a while.”

Joe tossed Dylan his keys. “Brynn and I would be glad to stay. Thank you, Lawrence.”

Irene spoke up. “His place is easy to find. Take the main road out of town and turn right on to the dirt road just after the stop sign. It’ll take you about fifteen minutes back into the woods, but Adam’s the only one at the end of it.”

Sasha hugged Brynn. “We’ll be back. You and Joe be safe.”

Dylan stayed silent until they were inside the Blazer and pulling out on to the main road. “That was weird. He acted like Joe was here to challenge him.”

“Maybe he’s been getting that a lot lately.” Or maybe he really was just envious of Gavin’s security and wealth.

“Maybe. Joe is a pretty scary bastard, I guess. He’s so busy playing lovey dovey with Brynn, sometimes I forget how fucking terrifying he is.”

“Joe’s not terrifying.” No one in Red Rock was, not even the ones who despised her. She looked out the window and changed the subject. “You’ve really never met a vampire?”

It seemed to take him a minute to catch up. “Uh, no. I mean, maybe? Shit, I could’ve been meeting them all my life and had no idea. How do you even tell?”

“I don’t know.” It was difficult to describe. “They feel different. Slower.”

“Heartbeat, you mean? Or…do they even have a heartbeat?”

“I’ve never listened.” Sasha’s nervousness grew. The vampires she’d met had all been old and very powerful, and she’d never encountered one without Maritza at her side. “Gavin said Dubois was a friend, right?”

“Yes.” Dylan glanced at her, and he grew serious once more. “You’re scared. What’s wrong?”

“I’m still at a loss without Maritza.” For once, the painful emotional void had taken a backseat to the practical fear of being on her own. “She was always good at talking, at negotiation. But I’m clumsy.”

He reached for her hand. “You’re not. You’re just learning.”

A thrill of awareness shot through her. Fear melted, replaced by a flare of desire only Dylan seemed capable of inciting. “I’ve always been awkward. I can’t blame that on my interrupted education.”

“You’re not awkward with me.”

“It’s easy with you.”

She could feel his pleasure at the words. “Well I’ll be with you today. What do I do if Adam Dubois turns out to be an evil bloodsucking monster? Stake to the heart? Garlic? Crosses and holy water?”

Sasha laughed. “Run, most likely, or we could set him on fire. But if he really is a friend of Gavin’s, that could be uncomfortable when we went home.”

His fingers tightened around hers, and his chuckle warmed her like a shot of liquor. “Joe said this vampire used to be a lumberjack. Let’s just hope he doesn’t greet us at the door with an axe.”

“If he does, we’re definitely not sticking around to burn him.”

“Especially since we’d have to ask him to chop down some firewood to do it with.”

“Mmm. He might get suspicious.”

“We’re going to be okay, Sasha.” Dylan kissed the backs of her fingers. “We’ll get through this, and we can go home. And spend all the time we want reading dusty old books full of stories too incredible to be true.”

It sounded like heaven. “Except most of them probably are true. Perhaps we should spend our time kissing instead.”

He laughed again, that same wicked laugh that made her shiver. “Oh, you didn’t think you were getting out of the kissing, did you?”

She rubbed her thumb over the inside of his wrist. “You might be particularly skilled, but I can’t read and kiss at the same time.”

The SUV swerved a little, and Dylan jerked away with a groan. “Obviously not that skilled. I don’t think I should kiss and drive, or we’re going to end up wrapped around a tree and then you’ll see how terrifying Joe is.”

“He’d miss his explosives more than his truck.” They eased to a stop, and Sasha pointed out the window. “There’s the dirt road.”

Dylan turned. “Too bad you distracted me from that book on the vampires of New England. I’m dying to know why they’re all up here in Maine now.”

“It could be the sparse population.”

“Seems counterintuitive, though. I mean, if you’ve got to feed on people, wouldn’t you want more of them?”

Sasha snorted. “Only if you want them banding together in an angry mob when they get tired of you eating them.”

“I guess. Where do you think Adam gets…food?”

“I don’t know.” Her stomach flip-flopped. “Some vampires have willing servants or partners who provide blood. Others survive on animals, for a time. But there are some who hunt.”

“Sasha.” He reached out, and this time his touch was obviously meant to soothe. “Gavin wouldn’t send us out here without warning if his friend was likely to take a bite out of either of us.”

“I know that. But sometimes…” It was a fear she hadn’t dared voice. “Sometimes I wonder if Gavin has forgotten what it’s like out here, Dylan. In the world beyond Red Rock Pass.”

He didn’t deny it. The SUV slowed a little, and he chanced a glance at her. “I think sometimes he does. I think a lot of the pack does.”

“That’s not bad, but it makes me worry about him and Sam, both.”

“I know. But they’ve got Keith and Joe. And Abby and Brynn may not know the supernatural stuff, but Abby’s tough enough to help Sam, and Brynn’s seen the not-so-pretty side of the world.”

Her throat ached. “And what about you?”

Dylan’s smile was a little too fast to be real. “I can lure pretty witches into town. And fix up houses.”

She couldn’t bring herself to return the expression. “You’re happy there.”

“I was happier there. It wasn’t saying much.” His thumb brushed over her wrist. “I’m happy with you.”

His words and touch suffused her with the same warmth that had grown between them since they’d made love. She wanted to take the chance, to ask him if he’d consider spending time someplace besides Red Rock, but the words died on her tongue. It wouldn’t be fair of him to ask her to stay, and it wouldn’t be fair of her to ask him to leave.

They were at an impasse. “I’m happy with you too, Dylan.”

“Good.” Dylan returned his hand to the wheel as the rows of pine trees on either side of the road grew markedly closer together. “I guess it’s a good thing there’s only one person out here. I don’t think two cars could pass each other on this road.”

They drove in silence until a final bend in the road revealed a small, old-fashioned log cabin surrounded by rose bushes. Next to it sat a beat-up old truck with enough grass growing around the wheels to make it clear it hadn’t moved in a while. The windows of the cabin were covered in thick black curtains that made it impossible to see inside. “This must be it,” Sasha murmured.

Dylan pulled the SUV to a careful stop twenty paces from the cabin and studied it through narrowed eyes. “No sunlight. Can vampires go out in the sunlight?”

“I guess. Some, anyway.”

“Some? It’s not a yes-or-no answer?”

“I don’t know.” Helplessness rose inside her. “I’m not an expert, not about vampires or—or anything else.”

Dylan threw the vehicle into park and swore softly before reaching for her. “I’m sorry, Sasha. You don’t need to be an expert. I’m just being an ass.”

“No, I should know these things.” Maybe she would, if she’d ever considered that Maritza wouldn’t be around forever. That she’d be on her own one day. “I think it’s tied to strength. The frailer they are, the less able they are to stand the sunlight. I think.”

“Then maybe the curtains are a good sign for us.” He leaned in to kiss her. “Are you ready?”

“Hey.” She caught his mouth, this time in a longer kiss. “He’s a friend of Gavin’s. It’s fine.”

They made their way up to the door, and Dylan edged in front of her as he knocked on the scarred wood.

The door jerked open a few inches before Dylan’s fist landed a third time. A face appeared, a man with rugged features and a tight expression that made him look threatening. His gaze jumped to her for several seconds, then returned to Dylan.

The man studied them in silence so long she wanted to turn and leave. Then his eyes narrowed. “You one of Francis’s wolves?”

Even Sasha could tell there was a wrong answer. Dylan moved to put himself more squarely in front of her before he answered. “Don’t know a Francis, so I guess no.”

“Gavin Hamilton sent us.” Sasha had to peer around Dylan to speak. “From Montana. He’s been trying to reach you.”

“That so?” The suspicion didn’t leave his voice. If anything, it grew sharper. “He still hiding away in his mountain with Sabrina?”

It was either a test, or Adam Dubois wasn’t quite the friend Gavin had made him out to be. She couldn’t stop the ice that slid into her voice. “Sam. Her name is Samantha.”

“He knows,” Dylan said quietly. “He doesn’t trust us. And neither does the werewolf hiding behind the door.”

Surprise flashed through Adam’s eyes, then he smiled wryly. “I bet people underestimate you a lot, don’t they?”

Dylan stepped to the side, but rested his hand protectively on Sasha’s arm. “I’m Dylan. This is Sasha. We came with one of Gavin’s enforcers.”

“Keith?”

“Joe.”

Adam nodded and pulled open the door. “Then I guess you’d best come in.”

The interior of the cabin was dark and cool. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see that the front room was filled with beautiful wood furniture that looked handmade. Judging from the sharp and gleaming but well-used axe by the door, it very well could have been.

Their host pushed the door shut and bolted it before holding out a hand. “Dylan and Sasha from Red Rock, meet Ethan. Of the Bedagi Creek pack.”

The man against the wall was young but obviously stressed, with new lines creased around his eyes and mouth. “Friends, Adam?”

“We can hope.” Adam crossed his arms across his chest, and the worn flannel shirt strained over shoulders so muscled they were intimidating. “They came from Red Rock.”

“I heard,” he murmured. “Gavin’s place.” He stepped away from the wall, out of the deeper shadows, and swayed as Sasha studied him. His eyelids drooped as if he was sleepy, and he shivered.

“Gavin was worried.” Dylan’s voice sounded quiet. Tense. “He had reason to be, didn’t he?”

“I can do it,” Ethan insisted. “Lawrence knows it too. He’s too weak to protect the pack, but I can do it.”

He was sick. Sasha took a step toward him and lifted the back of her hand to his cheek. Far from the warmth of fever she expected, his skin was cold, almost clammy. “They’ve done something to him, haven’t they?”

“Poison. One of the Bangor vampires probably helped. The Bangor alpha’s been buying up Lawrence’s power, bit by bit.”

She dropped her hand to Ethan’s chest. “How long ago?”

His answer was weak, and too long in coming. “Three days.”

His heart beat under her palm, faint and too slow. “I don’t know of any poisons that can affect a werewolf for so long.”

Adam laughed harshly. “Vampire blood.”

Shock coursed through her. It was death magic, the kind she couldn’t believe another wolf would have a part in. She tugged down his collar and lifted his sleeves, searching for the punctures of teeth marks. “Did they drink from him, or just slip him the blood?”

“Just the blood.”

Dylan’s fingers brushed over her shoulder. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

She glanced at him, unwilling to voice the words. He’s going to die. “Like he said, poison. There are some things I can do, but not—not much.”

“What if I help?”

Ethan swayed and almost tipped over. They caught him and helped him to a nearby bench. “It’s not magic, Dylan. Not this time. I can do a cleansing, but it’s mostly just herbal remedies and waiting.”

Adam strode past them toward a small, neat kitchen and slammed a pot onto an old-fashioned stove. “Stubborn bastard won’t let me take him to someone who can help.”

Sasha rose and joined Adam in the kitchen, careful to keep her voice low, though she doubted Ethan could hear her. “If you know someone, you should do it anyway. I haven’t completed my training.”

“He won’t go.” Adam braced his hands on the counter and closed his eyes. “They have his mate in town. They’re probably going to keep her hidden and play nice until Joe leaves, though, because Lawrence can’t risk pissing off Gavin.”

“If you know Gavin, you can’t have any doubt that this will piss him off all by itself.” Then his words registered, and Sasha felt faint. “Joe and Brynn. Irene told us where to find you. Lawrence must know that you’d tell us what he’s done.”

“Lawrence doesn’t think I know what happened.”

“Are you sure?” The tension was back in Dylan’s voice as he crossed the room to stand next to them. “Haven’t they come here to look for him?”

“No.” Adam bared sharp, vicious fangs. “No one from the pack has the guts to come out here but Ethan and Emily. If Lawrence suddenly showed up here looking for Ethan, I’d know something was wrong. And Lawrence is scared shitless of me.”

Even with the vampire’s relatively easygoing manner, Sasha could understand why. “What is Lawrence doing? It can’t be as simple as dirtying things up to avoid a fair challenge because he isn’t ready to retire.”

Dylan leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. “Things are hard. There aren’t many jobs. People get hungry. Hungry werewolves are dangerous, and the alpha needs to protect his people. Then a wolf shows up in town and says maybe there’s a little extra in the city this year. Maybe they can help out. It’s the least they can do.”

Adam swore. “How do you—”

“It’s a gift the first time,” Dylan continued, as if Adam hadn’t spoken. “The next time they need some help. Labor in return for food. Young men who can help out for a few weeks. Then a few months. Then they come back and this time they want the women.” Dylan opened his eyes and met Sasha’s gaze. “Why do you think we got jumped in that little town? This happens all the time. Alan took over four packs in the last decade like that. Why waste energy fighting when life is so hard for wolves in the small towns that they’ll come to you eventually?”

Sasha’s heart ached for the realities of Dylan’s life, and for what the people of Bedagi Creek faced. “Will Ethan stop that? Is that what he meant when he said he could protect the pack?”

Dylan looked at Ethan, who had slumped over on the bench. “Maybe. Sometimes all it takes is one person strong enough to say no.” The pain in his eyes made it clear that more often that person wasn’t enough.

She gripped Dylan’s hand and kissed his shoulder. “We can help. We’ll start with Ethan.”

Adam cleared his throat. Loudly. “I’ve been out of the world longer than I thought. When did wolves and wizards start kissing?”

“They haven’t,” Sasha said shortly. “I saw your roses outside. Any chance you have a decent herb garden?”

“Enough of one, if you don’t need anything exotic.”

“Not really.” She gestured to the back door, and he nodded. “Put Ethan on the floor and get his shirt off, Dylan. I’ll take a look at the garden and grab the first aid bag from the Blazer.”

Dylan hesitated for several heartbeats before nodding. “Be careful.”

“Simmer down, junior. No one’s going to attack her in my backyard.”

For a second she thought Dylan was going to growl at Adam. Then he bared his teeth in something that could have been a grin—or a challenge. “Sasha can take care of herself.”

“Most witches can,” Adam agreed, obviously amused. “I’d do what she told you to before she gives you an inconvenient itch.”

Irritation flared in Sasha. She didn’t like to see Adam teasing Dylan. “I could say the same for you, Dubois. I need boiling water for infusions, to start.”

Adam laughed quietly and turned to his stove. “As the lady wishes.”

***

The pungent scent of herbs filled the air along with Sasha’s soft chants. She’d already been at it twice as long as any of the cleansings she’d done on Justine, but the effect on Ethan was barely noticeable. A little of his color had returned, but he still slipped in and out of consciousness.

She laid a hand on his forehead and spoke firmly, but Ethan only moaned and thrashed in response.

Dylan crouched next to her and kept his voice low. “What can I do? Do you need more magic? More power?”

Her answer was barely audible. “I need the last two days back.” Her hands shook, and her frustration was plain. “Maybe a little more, Dylan. But just a little, I mean it.”

He indulged himself with a soft touch on her cheek. “Just a little. I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

The fact that she didn’t argue was further testament to the seriousness of Ethan’s condition. Sasha cupped the back of Dylan’s head, whispered something and kissed him lightly.

Magic built between them, slow and warm, the kind that tickled along his skin and made him wish they were alone even before the connection between them flared open.

Heat. Worry. Quiet concern and soft power, and the desire he felt for her reflected back at him in equal measure. And underneath it all…

Love.

His heart pounded. “Me too.”

Relief shone bright in her eyes, and she gave him a small, promising smile. “Later, when there’s time…”

He ignored Adam’s too-sharp gaze and kissed her again, quick and hard. “Take what you need. I’m strong enough.”

“I know you are, Dylan. So am I.” She turned back to Ethan’s still form and resumed her chanting, louder this time, with a new, commanding note in her voice.

The man on the floor started to seize.

“Hold him.” Sasha’s rhythmic words didn’t falter, but he heard the words anyway. “Both of you, hold him down. Just a little longer now.”

Adam must have heard the words as well, because he appeared on Sasha’s left just as Dylan leaned down to grasp Ethan’s right shoulder. He writhed under their hands as agonized screams ripped free of him. Sasha’s brow creased with concentration, and sweat beaded her upper lip. “Just a little—”

A surge of energy burst from Ethan along with a tormented snarl as he rolled free of Adam’s grasp, onto his side. Sasha held his head as he gagged and sputtered, finally vomiting a thick black something that Dylan didn’t want to consider too closely.

He stopped coughing and dragged in loud, sobbing breaths that almost drowned out Sasha’s whispered reassurances. “You’re all right. You’re going to be okay now.”

Dylan reached out a hand to brace himself on a nearby chair as a wave of dizziness washed over him. “Is it done?”

“It’s done.” Sasha looked at Adam. “He’ll need fluids. I can’t imagine he’s been able to keep much down these last few days.”

Adam nodded and rose to his feet. “I’ve got some soup stock from the last time they brought me groceries. What about him?”

Dylan bristled. “I’m right here. And I’m fine.”

“Fine,” Sasha echoed, her face pale. “Could I get some—some water?”

That was when he realized that not all of the weakness making his hands shake was his own. Dylan closed his eyes and took a deep breath before reaching out to pull Sasha against him. “You okay?”

She pressed her face to his shoulder and nodded, though she still shivered. “A little tired, that’s all.”

Adam returned from the kitchen. “I’m going to put Ethan in my bed and then I’m going to go to town and check on your people. You know how to use a gun?”

Dylan nodded.

“Good.” Adam leaned down and lifted Ethan’s dead weight with no effort, proving that vampires were easily as strong as werewolves. “After I leave, if anyone shows up that you don’t know, you might want to shoot first and ask questions if they can still talk.”

Sasha stared at the black mess on the floor. “Death magic.”

Dylan made a soothing noise and tucked her more firmly to his chest. “You need to rest for a little bit. We’ll see if Adam has any extra blankets and you can curl up while I manage the food.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Sasha, please.”

“I need to help, Dylan.” She somehow managed to sound firm and pleading, all at once. “I can’t roll into a ball and hide in some blankets right now. I can’t think that much. I need to do something.”

It wouldn’t help his riled-up instincts, but he doubted much would at this point, short of having Brynn and Joe in the car and headed back to Montana. “Okay. You want to make the food or babysit the sick werewolf?”

“I’ll cook. I don’t want Ethan to wake up and sense or see me. It might frighten him.”

Talking to Ethan would give him a chance to see just how bad the situation was—and whether or not he had to think of an excuse to keep her in the vampire’s cabin while he went back for Joe and Brynn. Because Joe Mitchell might need you to rescue him. Absurd to imagine. Terrifying to imagine.

He kissed the top of her head before releasing her. “Cook enough for all of us, if you can. Something tells me we’re going to need our strength.”

“Raid the kitchen.” Adam stepped out of the bedroom and pulled the door most of the way shut. “I’m taking my truck into town. Chances are good they’re going to be playing nice with your friends, but it’d be stupid not to check…and I know how to get in and out of town quietly.”

“I’ll get that broth ready for Ethan first.” Sasha disappeared into the kitchen.

Dylan waited until Adam had reached the door before speaking, pitching his voice low enough that Sasha wouldn’t hear it. “Do you think there’ll be trouble?”

“No.” Adam turned and surveyed him through slightly narrowed eyes. After a few moments he nodded, as if he’d answered some internal question. “I don’t think there’ll be trouble because Lawrence is a tired, desperate man, but he’s not stupid. I’ve never met Joe, but if he’s half as scary as Keith, Lawrence would piss himself at the thought of getting into a fight.”

“Joe’s scarier than Keith.” Adam raised one eyebrow in a vaguely skeptical manner, and Dylan elaborated. “Keith’s more dominant, but Joe’s…harder. If I had to fight one of them, I’d pick Keith.”

Adam picked up a shotgun from next to the door and nodded to the second one. “You know how to use that?”

“I grew up in Montana.”

“Since I haven’t been outside of Maine this century, I’m going to assume that means yes.”

Dylan felt his lips tug up in spite of himself. “Yes.”

“Good to know. I could be gone a few hours, so don’t panic. But if Lawrence shows up here…shoot to kill.”

Dylan squared his shoulders and tried not to be insulted by the hint of doubt in the vampire’s eyes. “I can do it.”

Adam didn’t reply with words, just nodded shortly, unbolted the door, and left with the shotgun clasped easily in one hand.

Dylan checked on Sasha first. He found her digging through the cupboards, a saucepan already bubbling on the gas stove. “Some kind of stew or something?” she said, her inflection turning it into a question.

“Perfect. I bolted the door behind Adam, and I’m going to go sit with Ethan. Yell if you need anything.”

“All right.”

The bedroom was dark and quiet. Ethan lay as still as death on a large bed with a solid headboard that looked hand-carved. Even though he didn’t move, his chest rose and fell evenly, and the sick sweat dotting his skin had dried.

Dylan shifted a stack of haphazardly folded shirts off of the rocking chair in the corner and dragged it closer to the bed. The intricate carvings on the arms and back of the chair looked like they’d poke painfully into anyone who dared sit, but he was too tired to stay on his feet. He eased into the chair and was pleasantly surprised by just how comfortable it was. “Fuck, I need one of these.”

“They retail for two grand.” Ethan opened his eyes. “I remember you from earlier.”

“Dylan. From Red Rock. Gavin sent us here because your alpha’s mate called him.”

Ethan grimaced. “Irene. She’s tried.”

“What happened?” The generalities he had no problem imagining, but the details… The devil’s in the details.

“What always happens to small towns.” His dark hair flopped over his forehead as he gingerly pushed himself up to sit against the headboard. “The mill closed, all the other jobs had dried up, and people couldn’t go somewhere else to look for work.”

“And someone offered help?”

“Help.” Ethan snorted softly. “That’s one way to put it. Lawrence accepted, at any rate. Guess he figured he was damned either way. Now he owes his allegiance to Francis, and the pack is paying the price.”

Dylan closed his eyes, and the memories came all too easily. A van from a nearby town, two twenty-year-old submissive males and a handful of terrified women the same age. Living tithes, demanded in return for the illusion of autonomy. “How far has it gone? What’s Francis asking for in return?”

“Food.” The word was harsh, an epithet. “He needs to feed his vampire allies.”

The bottom of Dylan’s stomach dropped out. He curled his hands around the arms of the chair and forced in a breath. “Is that why—” Why they took your mate?

Ethan’s face was etched in lines that belonged on a much older man. “Francis wants the stronger wolves. They’re not hard to control when they’re being drained half to death every night.”

Dylan swallowed his own disgust and forced himself to ask the questions he knew Joe and Gavin would need the answers to. “How long has this been going on? And how many people have they taken?”

“I don’t know. Months.” Ethan looked away. “There were a few in the beginning. Lawrence said they left to look for temporary work, but they never came back. He had to have sent them to Bangor. I should have guessed it then…”

“Adam says he doesn’t think Lawrence would challenge one of Gavin’s enforcers. Do you think he’s right?”

It took the man too long to answer. “If he did, it wouldn’t be clean. What do you think happened to me?”

Lawrence had invited Brynn and Joe to lunch. Cold dread settled in the pit of Dylan’s stomach. “I need to call Gavin. I need to tell him what’s going on.” Just in case. He didn’t speak the words. He didn’t have to.

“The closest phone is at mine and Emily’s—” He hissed in a breath. “It’s at our place. It’s a twenty-minute drive.”

Too far when it meant leaving Sasha alone to protect Ethan. “Adam’s gone to town to see how Lawrence is dealing with Brynn and Joe.”

“That bastard had better be looking for Emily too.”

He could lie, but Ethan would know. “I don’t know. But when Joe and Brynn get back here, we’ll figure out a way to fix this.”

“Sure.” Ethan leaned his head against the headboard with a rough exhalation. “Where’s the girl? The one from earlier?”

“Sasha’s making you something to eat. She’s worried that you’ll be uncomfortable around her.” And try as he might, Dylan couldn’t keep the challenge out of his voice.

A hint of humor glinted in the man’s eyes. “I only wanted to thank her.”

Dylan unbent enough to smile. “She hasn’t had the easiest time with werewolves.”

“At this point, neither have I.”

Neither had Brynn. Or Abby. Or me. Werewolves had been hurting each other and everyone around them for a long time, long enough for Dylan to wonder if maybe the wizards were right to fight against them.

A traitorous thought, perhaps. A pointless one, too. “Get some rest. Sasha and Adam and I will figure out what’s going on, and when we do, you need to be in decent enough shape to take your town back.”

He hesitated before nodding. “I hope your friends are okay.”

“They will be.” They had to be, because Dylan had no idea what sort of rescue mission he and Sasha could mount against an entire town. And Adam, of course. A vampire, a werewolf and a witch…

It sounded like the setup for a bad joke, the kind where the punch line never made anyone laugh.

Chapter Eight

Sasha jerked awake, unsure why. She sat up on the couch, barely breathing as she took stock of what her senses told her. The stew was on the stove, the rich aroma of it filling the cabin, and everything was quiet. There was nothing, no—

An enraged scream split the air outside, and Sasha’s heart pounded. “Brynn.”

She scrambled off the couch just as Dylan bolted from the kitchen and shot past her. He snatched up the shotgun and held up a hand. “Stay back.”

“What? Dylan, wait—”

He ignored her as he jerked the curtains aside and peered out, then swore and twisted the deadbolt.

The door slammed open a second later, and Adam took one step in and pointed to Sasha. “Calming spell. Do you know it?”

“Of course I do.” Fear pounded through her. “What’s happened?”

Dylan was already out the door. Adam shook his head and gestured sharply. “No time. Brynn’s losing it, and Emily can’t keep her under control for long.”

Joe. Sasha’s hands shook. “Get her in here. On the floor.” As he rushed off, she tried to clear her mind, to calm herself enough to marshal the reserves of energy inside her.

A snarl sounded from outside, one barely human. When Adam reappeared with Brynn twisting in his arms, he had four jagged scratches down the side of his face.

She looked feral. She thrashed in Adam’s grasp and planted an elbow hard enough in his side that he grunted in pain. A tall woman followed them inside and laid a hand on Brynn’s head. “Shh, honey. You’re going to be—”

“Let me go.” Brynn bared her teeth, and for one terrifying moment it looked like she was going to try to rip the woman’s hand off with her teeth.

“Brynn.” The spell coalesced, washing through Sasha and outward, but she couldn’t focus it enough to do more than take the slightest edge off her friend’s agitation.

She stepped forward and framed Brynn’s face with her hands. She heard Dylan’s noise of protest, but he was too far away to stop her, even when Brynn’s teeth snapped shut an inch away from Sasha’s hand. “Settle down.”

Brynn opened her eyes, which looked more gold than gray. Her lips curled back from her teeth. “Joe. We have to go back for Joe.”

“We will, I promise. But first I need you to stop fighting me.”

Adam winced as Brynn’s heel caught his thigh. “Emily—”

“I’m trying.” The woman’s voice shook. “We must be too far from her Guide for their bond to do her any good. She wasn’t this out of it back in town.”

“Brynn was turned during the full moon.” The spell wasn’t working. Sasha could try to ramp up the power, pour more energy into another cast, but there was no guarantee that would work either. “Dylan, we have to find another way.”

“Hold on.” He dropped the shotgun next to the door and lunged for the first aid kit they’d dragged in from the car earlier. “Cindy sent something in case Brynn lost it. Some kind of sedative…”

“A shot.” Sasha struggled to remember Cindy’s instructions. “In the shoulder, right?”

“Yeah.” Dylan pulled a syringe out of the case. “Step back, Sasha. Adam, can you and…”

“Emily.” She flashed Sasha a tight smile before returning her attention to Brynn. “Come on, honey, just a little bit…”

Adam and Emily managed to get Brynn to the floor and hold her steady long enough for Dylan to use the injectable sedative. Her struggles slowed, became sluggish and uncoordinated as her gaze fixed on Sasha. “Joe. We…we need to…”

The vise of terror tightened around Sasha’s chest again, and she turned to Adam, her fists clenched. “What happened to Joe?”

It was Emily who answered. She sat on her heels and pushed her dark, disheveled hair from her face. “The Bangor alpha and his vampire sidekick showed up right after your friends. The vampire decided she wanted Brynn, and when the alpha tried to make that happen, Joe made him dead.”

Dylan’s eyebrows drew together. “Why would she want Brynn?”

Adam shifted uncomfortably, and Sasha drew in a shaky breath. “Why did the vampire in Helena want Sam? I don’t even know what kind of power a blood bond with Brynn would yield.”

“Brynn’s not as strong as Sam.” Dylan stroked Brynn’s forehead when she whimpered, and Sasha saw his hand shake. “She’s not an alpha.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Adam’s voice sounded rough, strained. He eased away from Brynn, his gaze fixed carefully on some point past Dylan. “She’s a moon wolf. She can’t control the power, but vampires can take it from her. You need to get her the hell out of this state. Back to where there aren’t any vampires.”

Sasha gritted her teeth. “Gavin sent me and Dylan here to find you because there’s a vampire helping the new alpha in Helena. We need to learn how the power transfer works so we can stop it.”

“Fuck.” Adam glanced at Emily. “Ethan’s in my bedroom. Go check on him. It’ll make him feel better.”

When she was gone, the vampire closed his eyes. “Prudence is a vampire, and she might as well run Bangor. Francis has been under her thumb for three decades. They came to Bedagi Creek today to collect their tithe…and it happened pretty much like Emily said. Prudence wanted Brynn, Francis tried to take her…”

“And Joe lost his shit.” Dylan’s hand came to rest on Brynn’s forehead. “Is he…”

“He’s alive.” Sasha knelt and checked Brynn’s pulse. It was slow and steady. “If he was dead already, she would have been worse.”

“They’ve got him locked up. Sedated too, I think. They pulled everyone loyal to Lawrence over to guard the house where they’re keeping him. Made it easier to break Emily and your friend out.”

And it was up to them to free Joe. Sasha avoided Dylan’s gaze. “How powerful is this vampire?” she asked Adam.

He scrubbed his hand over the side of his face. “Honestly, I don’t know. She was formidable when I knew her, but not scary enough to take over the damn city. But if she’s been collecting strong wolves like Emily from nearby packs as food, she could be strong.”

“We have to assume the worst, past and present.” If they stood a chance of fighting Lawrence, his flunkies and a vampire, they’d need Ethan healthy and strong. “We can’t face them right now. We have to wait, at least a day or two.”

“No we don’t.” It was Emily, and she had Ethan braced against her. “Ethan’s going to challenge Lawrence. Tonight.”

It was foolish. Impossible. “You almost died a few hours ago, Ethan,” Sasha argued. “You’re not strong enough.”

Dylan wasn’t watching Emily and Ethan. He was watching Adam. “It’s not a myth, is it? The vampire from Austria in the 1600s. The one who could take power from one wolf and give it to another.”

“No. It’s not a myth.”

“And you can do it.”

Adam still had his eyes closed. “Yeah. I can.”

Having someone else around who knew how relocate power between wolves was the sort of thing that could make the difference between victory and defeat back in Red Rock. She was only one person, one witch with limited training and resources, but if she had help… “Is it hard for you? The transfer, I mean. What’s the process?”

“A blood bond.” He opened his eyes and glanced at Emily. “Take him back into my room. We’ll do it there.”

Emily nodded and turned them both around. When they were gone, Adam looked at Sasha. “Not all vampires can do it, but it’s not difficult if you’re strong enough. I drink from Emily, and I can take her power. But wolves and vampires…our magic isn’t very compatible. Life and death. Some vampires are crazy enough to take a wolf’s power and try to use it, but it eats us up inside eventually. Unless we give it to someone else.”

Sasha stepped closer and took a deep breath. “But you don’t keep the bond in place.” Having the vampire feed off them for too long had almost killed Justine and Sam.

Adam shook his head. “Can’t have more than one blood bond at the same time, so I break the first one after I have the power I need. Then I do it again. Only this time, I give the power.”

She didn’t know him well enough to ask these questions, but it didn’t matter. She had to. “Can anything go wrong?”

“Plenty, in theory.” Adam rose to his feet easily, but the look in his eyes was dark. “In practice? For me? Not much. I’m good at it.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It should.” He moved past her toward the bedroom but paused with his hand braced on the doorframe. His fingers tightened around the wood until his knuckles turned white, and he glanced over his shoulder at her. “As a general rule, I wouldn’t trust anyone who’s good at it. You’ll live longer.”

She tried not to shiver as she turned to Dylan. “What should we do about Brynn?”

He smoothed his fingers over Brynn’s forehead. “Maybe you can take some of her power. The part that’s hurting her.”

“I’d rather ask first, but…” She covered Dylan’s free hand with hers. “You’ve known her a long time. Would she want me to?”

Dylan nodded without hesitating. “If you could figure out a way to help her get control, I can’t even tell you how much it would mean to her. It’s going to kill her if she can’t help save Joe.”

She and Brynn weren’t close, but Sasha knew his words were true. “Cindy said that sedative would last about an hour before she started to come around. If I do the spell right now, it could knock me out. Can you watch me and help?”

“Let me move Brynn.” He gathered her up into his arms and rose. “If I put her on the couch, you can kneel next to it, and I can sit behind you in case anything happens.”

He arranged Brynn on the cushions, and Sasha dropped to her knees beside her. She’d memorized the spell, but nerves still made her shake. “This will be different from when I cast it on you,” she told Dylan. “It’s not as intense, but I don’t know how the drug will affect me.”

Dylan lowered himself to the floor behind her and curled both hands around her shoulders. His hands were strong, warm even through her shirt, and he leaned down enough to whisper in her ear. “You can do it. I’m here.”

Sasha began the incantation. It was becoming familiar, this particular rush of magic, and she barely even had to think about the words as she focused on drawing close to Brynn, on adjusting her own energy to meld with the other woman’s.

It wasn’t easy like it had been with Dylan. He’d been aware of what she was doing, open and ready, but Brynn struggled instinctively.

It’s okay, Brynn. It’s me. It’s Sasha.

The thought calmed her just enough for Sasha to complete the first section of the spell, the one that would allow for transfer but only one way; giving an out-of-control wolf the ability to pull power from her would have been dangerous, maybe even suicidal.

“It’s done,” Sasha whispered. She felt drained, almost sluggish. “Dylan…”

Solid arms wrapped around her body and pulled her back against his chest. “The power’s hurting her, and you need it. Take some of it.”

It was true, but still she hesitated. Without permission… Then the decision was made for her as Brynn jerked and mumbled in her unnatural sleep, and a burst of energy barreled through Sasha, wild and untamed.

It was primal magic, the kind of frantic, edgy power that explained everything about the way Brynn looked sometimes, as if she couldn’t find humanity under the layers of savagery. Dylan’s breath caught behind her, and his fingers tightened on her shoulders. “I can…I can feel it.”

Sasha hadn’t had enough experience with that kind of wildness to control it. She closed her eyes and growled. “Help me deal with it, Dylan. Tell me how.”

He swallowed hard. “Pull in enough power to help her, first. Pull it in and give it to me. I can handle it.”

She took a shaky breath and complied, drawing energy into herself until she felt Brynn calm. The power roiled inside her almost like a living thing, looking for an outlet. Sasha shuddered and bit her lip until she tasted blood.

“Break the connection,” Dylan ordered, his voice low and rasping.

It felt like forever before she could focus enough to try to sever her bond with Brynn. Her mind skittered from one thought to the next, lighting on so many but lingering on none. Finally, she ripped free with another growl, reeling from the cacophony inside her own head and body.

“Outside.” She barely heard his low growl, but she didn’t need to do anything. His arm locked around her body and he dragged her toward the door. Cool evening air wrapped around her as he got the door open and pulled her through it.

The door slammed shut, and then her back was against it, her hands trapped under his and pinned on either side of her head. “Look at me, Sasha.”

She couldn’t, not if she wanted to keep the primitive, ferocious feelings welling inside her in check. “Dylan—”

“Give me the power,” he whispered. “Give it to me now, because you feel like a wolf to me. Like a wolf I want to claim, and if you don’t stop feeling like that soon I’m going to lose control.”

Her knees gave out, and only the weight of his body against hers kept her upright. She’d already known, on some level, what she must feel like to him now—like herself, but with a wolf’s feral energy. And she wanted that wild look in his eyes, just as much as she wanted the warmth she usually found there. “I—”

He sucked in a frantic breath and tightened his fingers around her wrists. “God damn it, Sasha. If you like the way this feels, then take some of my power just before the next moon and I’ll fuck you against a wall until you can’t walk. But not now. Not like this.”

The jittery need had completely eclipsed the reality of their responsibilities. “Christ.” She knocked her head against the door to clear it and gathered the energy inside so she could direct it at Dylan. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” His lips brushed her jaw, then settled just above her ear. “The wolf likes you plenty, Sasha. You don’t need the power for me to feel like this. I feel like this every time I touch you, it’s just that I can usually control it.”

“I understand.” She didn’t want him to feel her embarrassment and shame, so she distracted him with the burst of energy.

He groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder, but his magic welcomed the power she fed it. “That’s it.”

She wondered if this part of the transfer was always so intimate, or if it was only because this was Dylan. “Will you be okay?” she whispered.

Dylan rubbed his thumbs over her wrists gently as he took another slow breath. With his body pressed to hers there was no hiding the fact that he was aroused, but his touch was soothing. After a moment he lifted his head and let her wrists go. “I’m okay. And I’m sorry.”

“For what? I’m the one who almost forgot there are people depending on us.”

He let out a desperate sounding laugh. “Sasha, I’ve been a werewolf ten years and I can barely handle this power. It makes Brynn half-crazy. Why do you think you’d be any better?”

Because she had to be. Ever since Maritza’s death, she’d stepped into her mentor’s place. There hadn’t been time to explain that she needed another decade of training to handle everything, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She was better than nothing, and all the Red Rock pack had. “I’m so tired, Dylan.”

He eased her away from the door and wrapped both arms around her. “We’re going to get Joe. And then the four of us can go AWOL for a few days. Hole up in a hotel and sleep. Red Rock can survive without us. I know it won’t fix everything…”

“We can’t. We have to get back.” If what Adam had said was true, the temptation Red Rock posed was too great. The vampire in Helena wouldn’t rest until he had Sam and Justine back.

“I know. But now we know how to fight, right?” His hand came up to cup the back of her head, and he whispered his words against her hair. “Adam might come back with us. You won’t be the only one who understands what we have to do.”

But they had to get out of Maine first. “Adam will be focused on the vampire from Bangor, and Ethan will challenge Lawrence. So Joe will be counting on us tonight.”

“If Brynn’s feeling steady when she comes out from under the spell, she can carry a gun from the truck.” Dylan’s arms dropped and he stepped back, the movement full of tense energy. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, they’d faded to gold. “With this much power in me… Tonight, I fight as a wolf.”

She could feel it vibrating off him, the barely leashed strength that meant he could handle whatever resistance Lawrence’s men offered. “We’re still connected,” she reminded him quietly. “Do you want me to break the spell before—before we go?”

He hesitated, then frowned. “What happens if someone hurts me while we’re connected?”

“I’d feel it.” Sasha looked away. “It wouldn’t be smart to go into a fight without ending the spell’s effects, I just…” I’ll miss you.

“I know,” he whispered, almost as if he’d heard the thought. His hand came up and he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Werewolf fights get ugly, Sasha. I heal pretty fast, but I’m going to get hurt. And I don’t want you to feel that.”

“I’ve grown accustomed to it, that’s all.” It didn’t even take a word to sever the connection between them. All she had to do was concentrate for a moment and he was gone. Abruptly alone in her own head, she trembled under his touch.

His fingers moved to her chin and he tilted her head back enough for a slow kiss. It felt like a reminder, and warmth flooded her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He cares, Sasha. Even if you can’t feel it, you should remember that.

Too soon, he lifted his head. “You should go check on Brynn. I’m going to see if they’re done with the vampire mojo. And after that…”

“Then we fight,” she said matter-of-factly, though fear formed an icy knot in her belly. “I’ll be ready.”

Chapter Nine

The air was cool enough for Dylan to see his breath as he trudged around Joe’s SUV and pulled open the back door. He glanced at Ethan then jerked his head toward the neatly organized weaponry. “If Emily wants a gun or some explosives or possibly a rocket launcher, I’m pretty sure we’ve got just about everything here.”

Ethan shook his head and unbuttoned his jacket. “That’s not how Emily fights.”

And Ethan probably wouldn’t, either. Not that Dylan had ever seen a challenge for leadership of a pack, but guns and knives had been taboo for any other challenge in Helena. Fists, fangs and claws, those had been the weapons of choice.

Dylan fought a shudder as he unzipped one of the bags and looked for a gun for Brynn to use. “You’re feeling all right, then? Whatever Adam did worked?”

“Yeah.” His jaw tightened. “I shouldn’t have let Emily do it, but more people are going to get hurt if I don’t stop Lawrence’s madness tonight.”

The look in Emily’s eyes had reminded Dylan of Abby when she got her mind set on something. He pulled a small handgun from the bag and checked it absently. “I would have liked to see you stop her.”

The corner of Ethan’s mouth kicked up. “Right. Easier said than done.” He eyed the array of weapons in the back of the Blazer. “You came prepared, I guess. Is that what you do with Sasha? Arm her to the gills and hope for the best?”

Dylan choked on a laugh. “Shit, no. I wouldn’t know how to use half of this. Joe’s the one who gets hot and bothered over the idea of blowing stuff up. And Sasha doesn’t need a gun. She’s a lot stronger witch than she lets on.” Or she knows.

“She’s human,” Ethan countered. “Humans are fragile. That’s not a judgment, just a fact.”

Dylan waited for the rush of protective anger, but it didn’t come. Instead he felt annoyance, prompted by protectiveness of a different sort. “Sasha can take care of herself. But she doesn’t have to, because I’ll be with her. And so will Brynn, who has been doing daily target practice with the man who owns all of this shit.”

The man nodded. “You know her, not me, so it’s your call. I’d just hate like hell for there to be bad blood between my pack and Gavin’s because I dragged all of you into my mess.”

My call. The responsibility was terrifying, even with the wild power pulsing inside him. He’d locked most of it away through sheer stubbornness, but he knew it was there, waiting for a chance to break free. To make him powerful.

Maybe some people might have found it to be a temptation. To Dylan, it felt not unlike Joe’s trunk full of explosives—potentially useful, possibly inadvisable and inevitably deadly.

Dylan cleared his throat as he checked the safety on the handgun before tucking it into the back of his jeans. “You’re not dragging anyone into anything. It’s our trouble too. Joe’s in danger, and Sasha’s not any more likely to sit at home and wait for us to fix things than Emily is.”

“All right, then.” Without turning, Ethan spoke to Adam as the vampire strode toward them. “Is everyone ready?”

“Emily’s changed,” Adam replied quietly. “She’s ready for you. A little unsteady, but fit enough to watch a challenge. Once you two leave, we can start around the back way.”

Ethan nodded. “If this goes south… Well, you’ve been a good friend, Adam.”

The vampire clapped Ethan on the shoulder with a wide, unexpected grin. “You and Emily are what this town needs, and they’re going to come out and support you. I know they will.”

Dylan could only hope Adam was right. Too much of their plan rested on Emily and Ethan causing enough of a division that Lawrence couldn’t rally people to his cause. Adam and his friends seemed convinced that the town would fight back against their alpha given half a chance.

Maybe they were right. Maybe there’d been a time when the wolves in Helena had the heart to fight against Alan. Maybe Ethan and Emily could save Bedagi Creek before it became another place where fear ruled.

And maybe Adam could give the people of Helena another chance to fight. Their first chance to win.

A hand touched his arm, and Dylan realized Ethan was gone and Adam stood next to him now. The vampire’s face was sober, tense with anticipation. His eyes, though…his eyes held excitement. “You going to hold together, kid?”

“Yes.” There was nothing else in the truck he needed, so he closed the door. “I always do.”

“And them?” Adam tilted his head toward Sasha and Brynn, who were huddled close together at the edge of the clearing, speaking in soft whispers. The wind teased at Sasha’s hair, which was pulled into a tight ponytail. Her manner was serious and intent, but not worried.

Brynn, on the other hand, looked tired. Tired and upset, but more herself than she’d been since the attack that had changed her. Dylan recognized the expression on her face from long experience, a mixture of stubborn determination and fierce concentration.

It was reassuring. The possibility that Sasha would have to fight wolves and Brynn had occurred to him more than once, and it hadn’t been pleasant to ponder. Whatever Sasha had done, though, had obviously worked. His friend was back, and ready to reclaim her mate.

Mate. The wolf rumbled inside him at the word, pacing anxiously in anticipation of being unleashed. The power inside him might have come from Brynn, but it had gone through Sasha and tasted of witch, not wolf. The memory of how close he’d come to taking Sasha against Adam’s door—how close he’d come to claiming her—was still uncomfortably arousing.

Adam cleared his throat. Noisily. “I was hoping for a status report, not a girl-on-girl fantasy break.”

Dylan jerked his attention back to Adam. “First off, fuck you. Second, yeah. They’ll be fine. Third…” He bared his teeth in a grin that was a little bit reckless challenge. “Once we get to Joe, I’d lay off talking about Brynn. Or looking at her. Or getting within fifteen feet of her.”

“Duly noted.” Adam jerked his head toward the front of the truck. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Sasha caught Dylan’s gaze, patted Brynn’s arm and walked over to him. “She’s doing a lot better. Says she feels a little bit human. That’s something, right?”

“It’s a lot.” Dylan ignored Adam and leaned down to kiss the top of Sasha’s head. “You two ready? We should be in place when Emily starts making noise.”

“The sooner the better,” Sasha whispered. “Joe must be wondering where we are.”

More likely Joe was going to kick their asses when he found out they hadn’t run for the hills. When he finds out I armed Brynn and let her walk back in there after him… Dylan tried not to shudder. “He probably still thinks they have Brynn. It’s the only reason he wouldn’t be killing his way out of there, drugged or not.”

“He’d be glad to know she’s safe, at least.” Sasha’s eyes darkened. “Look, putting it off isn’t making this easier. Everything you’ve seen me do has been something constructive, Dylan. Something to help someone. I need to do things differently tonight.”

She seemed uneasy, so he nodded. “All right.”

“It’ll be dark, maybe even scary.”

“All right.”

She ground her teeth. “Damn it, Dylan. A little acknowledgement of understanding would be helpful. Having to do this, to let go of control… It scares me.”

Dylan glanced at Adam, then wrapped his fingers around Sasha’s arm and tugged her a few steps from the car. For all he knew the vampire’s hearing was as good as his own, but the illusion of privacy was something. “If you’re asking me to be scared of you, it’s not going to happen. I trust you.”

“Okay.” She backed away a step. “I’m ready, then.”

It sounded like a lie, but not because she wasn’t ready to go. If anything, she sounded anxious to end the conversation, and that made him nervous. “Why are you scared? Is what you’re doing dangerous?”

“Not any more dangerous than what anyone else is doing.”

Not the most satisfying answer, but there wasn’t time for more. Dylan reached to the small of his back and pulled the gun free. “I’m going to give this to Brynn, and then I’m going to change. It can take me a few minutes to recover, so I’m going to do it now. If there’s anything you need to ask, any questions at all, now’s the time.”

“No, nothing.” She dipped her head in a quick nod. “Good luck.”

Brynn was still standing apart from the rest of them. She stared at the trees around them as if she could see straight to the town. Dylan had no doubt her gaze was fixed on Joe’s location with a precision any compass would envy.

She didn’t turn around, but she spoke before Dylan got within a few feet of her. “I think they drugged him again. He was coming out of it, but everything’s gone quiet. I tried to reach him, to make him feel something, but it’s too far and I don’t know how.”

Dylan lifted his hand to Brynn’s shoulder and squeezed softly. “You’ll be with him soon. And I think Joe would come out of a coma just to yell at you for walking back into that town, so he should be on his feet as soon as we get there.”

He got the feeling Brynn smiled more because she thought she was supposed to than because she’d even heard his words. The feral power that had haunted her for the past few weeks might be muted, but her gray eyes were still wild. She reached out a hand without looking at him. “Gun?”

Dylan placed it in her hand. “Loaded.”

“Spare ammunition?”

He hadn’t thought of it. A month ago Brynn wouldn’t have, either. “Maybe in the truck. I can—”

“I’ll do it.” She glanced at him, and a shiver claimed him when he considered, for the first time, that Brynn might have picked up more from Joe than an understanding of firearms. That hardness had always been inside Brynn, but it had been defensive strength before, nothing but dull edges.

Edges Joe had known how to hone.

Dylan nodded his acknowledgement and stepped aside to let her pass. He heard her boots crunch on the dry leaves as he turned his back and bent to jerk at the laces on his tennis shoes.

Modesty wasn’t high on his priority list, even in front of a vampire who seemed to find poking at his pride to be an amusing pastime, but stripping down in the woods had its own discomforts. Dylan ignored the biting wind as he jerked off his shirt and kicked off his jeans. He gathered his clothes and left them on top of the truck, killing time because even standing naked in the cold wind was more comfortable than what came next.

He hated the change. Some wolves found it easy, but those were the strong ones, the ones whose control was perfect and who lived with the wolf close to the surface. Before Sasha, Dylan’s wolf had been a quiet companion, a silent part of himself that gave him the strength to endure but demanded little in return. Even the days before the full moon were only mildly uncomfortable, mostly due to the need to find a warm woman and burn off sexual frustration.

There was nothing quiet about the wolf today. The power inside him excited his wolf like nothing else had. Nothing except her.

He couldn’t turn to look at Sasha. With wild anticipation singing in his blood, arousal would be fast and hard. Even the thought of her stirred something dark, and Dylan forced his thoughts from sex to blood. A fight was coming, and that was new. His wolf knew how to endure, how to suffer in silence and rebel quietly.

Tonight would be different.

He crouched in the leaves and closed his eyes, preparing himself to call on the wolf. But the power teased at him instead, that wild magic that felt like Sasha, and he sucked in a breath and gave into it.

The change flowed over him like magic. Pain first, but that didn’t matter in the rush of heat that followed. He felt wild, alive and alert to the world. Awake, as if the last ten years had been spent in shadow. Paws touched the earth and he lifted his nose to sniff the air, which smelled of gun oil and witch and the cold, eerie scent of death magic, of whatever lived inside Adam that made him smell dead even though he was still alive.

Odd allies for a wolf, but with magic pounding through him Dylan didn’t care. The wind changed, brought with it the sounds of Bedagi Creek and Emily’s howl of challenge, and he answered with a sharp yip of command before leaping for the woods.

***

Even when they broke free of the woods, the streets were deserted. Nothing stirred but the cold night breeze that had followed them, and the only signs of life were the howls that drifted to Sasha’s ears from the center of town.

Dylan stalked ahead of her, growling low in his throat when the wind shifted direction.

Joe. It had to be. When Sasha loosened her grip on the magic swirling through her, she felt it, the men and women gathered to guard the prisoner. Some were angry, but most were simply scared, because the sounds of challenge that rose in the night meant the alpha they served might not last the hour.

Perhaps they could be persuaded to leave Joe, to join the formalities in the town square. Perhaps there would be no fight.

Adam lifted his hand, ignoring Dylan’s soft growl. “Wait,” he whispered, his voice barely rising above the sound of the wind. “Prudence is with him. I can feel her.”

If he could sense her already, they had no hope of a stealthy approach. “If they’ve drugged Joe, what will happen to her if she tries to feed from him?”

Brynn growled. Adam ignored her, too. “It depends on how powerful she’s gotten. She probably wouldn’t risk it, though. I don’t think I’d want to risk it, and I’m a lot stronger than she is.”

“How do you know? If Francis has been feeding her alph—”

“I’m stronger.” Adam’s voice was hard, uncompromising. “She may have raw power, but power can’t compensate for everything. You need the will to use it, and you’re born with that or you’re not. She wasn’t.”

Adam’s insinuation that he had the will to do things even a power-mad vampire wouldn’t do should have scared her. But Sasha was beyond fear. All she wanted now was for all of them to make it through the night and go home. “If I tell you not to get between me and Prudence, you have to trust me. Can you do that, Adam?”

Adam didn’t answer right away. Dylan appeared at her side, his body pressed tight against her leg, and he bared his teeth in a low, dangerous snarl.

The vampire rolled his eyes. “Settle down, puppy. I’m not insulting your woman.” Adam transferred his gaze to Sasha, his dark eyes cold. “If you tell me to move, I’ll move. But you must do the same.”

Dylan shook beside her, and Sasha dropped a hand to soothe him. “I’m trying to make sure no one gets hurt. Some of my spells can’t be easily directed, so all I can do is…tailor them. In this case, make life hard for anyone who’s supposed to be dead.”

Adam nodded. His gaze drifted to Brynn, and that ice-cold look thawed a little, replaced by a disturbing hunger—disturbing because it wasn’t the least bit sexual. His squeezed his eyes shut and swore quietly. “She’ll do anything to get her hands on Brynn. Even with most of the power gone, she smells like…food.”

“I can hear you,” Brynn snapped.

“Good. Don’t forget it.” Adam opened his eyes and stared directly at Sasha. “If you have to choose, if I’m in the way…cast your spell. And tell Gavin I paid his goddamned life debt back.”

It was almost funny, and Sasha tightened her fingers in Dylan’s fur. “See? I told you the life debt was tradition.”

He butted his head against her hip hard enough to make his feelings on the matter more than clear. Adam opened his mouth—

—and froze when Brynn made a choked noise, her head whipping around. Her lips formed Joe’s name a second before she screamed, a furious sound that didn’t sound like it could come from a human throat.

Adam lunged for her, but his fingers closed on the edge of her shirt, and she tore free and bolted between two nearby houses, headed straight toward the source of the nervous magic that filled the air.

Sasha cursed and took off after her, blood pounding in her ears. “Brynn, no!” If she went in there half out of her head, she might be able to power her way through whatever wolves stood in her way, but she wouldn’t stand a chance against a hungry vampire.

Brynn was still a hundred feet from the front door when it burst open. A wolf shot out, and Dylan howled a challenge and darted past Sasha. He hit the wolf broadside, and they tumbled to the grass beside the porch. Two more wolves and a man rushed out of the house, and Brynn snatched the gun from her waistband and began firing.

They were outnumbered already, and Sasha wanted to stop, to help. Instead, she ran inside the house.

A man grabbed her and slammed her into the nearest wall in a practiced, fluid movement. Then he stopped, a look of disbelief flitting across his face as his nostrils flared. “You’re not a wolf,” he growled.

“No, I’m not.” She closed her eyes and reached down for the dark magic she’d warned Dylan about, the part of herself she’d hoped to avoid. She wouldn’t get through this fight without violence, so she let go, unleashing some of the anger and fear inside her.

The man dropped his gun and staggered back, clutching his head. Adam strode past her, grasped the man’s head and twisted it with one sharp movement. Sasha heard a sharp crack, and Adam turned as his opponent slumped lifelessly to the floor. He lifted his face as his voice rose, loud enough to be heard over the angry snarls outside. “Prudence Goodman, I challenge you for blood rights to Bedagi Creek.”

There was no response, just a clicking of what sounded like shoe heels on hardwood. Then a delicate-looking brunette with dark, curly hair leaned over the second-floor railing and smiled down at them. “What could you possibly want with them, Adam?” Her voice was light, clear and sweet. “Last I heard, you were eating deer and bunnies out in the woods.”

Adam laughed, a harsh, rumbling noise with an edge of menace. “What brings you to the woods, darling? Can’t get anyone to believe you’re Stephen King’s muse anymore?”

Prudence yawned. “That joke was only funny twenty years ago.” She looked past him to where Sasha still stood against the wall. “You’re new. Witch, right? Have you come for the wolf?”

She looked absolutely, utterly normal, and Sasha shivered. “I came for my friend.”

Claws scrabbled on the threshold behind them. Adam spun, placing his body between Sasha and the door, but the attacking wolf only made it halfway into the room before the reddish wolf she recognized as Dylan pounced onto his back. Power spiraled out as Dylan snarled and snapped.

Prudence sucked in a laugh and clapped her hands. “Not a moon wolf, but I bet he’d taste like one. Adam, you cad, what have you been doing out in that hovel of yours?”

Before Adam could answer, Brynn screamed. Pain, not rage, and Dylan’s head snapped up. He leapt toward the door but skittered to a stop a few feet away from Sasha, obviously torn between conflicting instincts.

Adam caught Sasha’s gaze. “Do what you have to do,” he told her, his voice deadly serious. He spun without waiting for a response and sprinted out the door.

“Nice.” Prudence’s heels clicked again as she walked slowly down the stairs. “He went off to fight the wolves and left you here.” Her eyes gleamed as she studied Sasha intently. “So why are you special?”

I can do this. Sasha repeated the words silently even as Dylan growled menacingly. Maritza had taught her everything she needed to know, and all she had to do was believe in herself the way—

The way Dylan believed in her. The way everyone in Red Rock believed in her, even if they were scared to death of what she could do.

She had to speak to call the spell she needed, and Prudence’s steps sped with Sasha’s whispered words. “What are you doing?” the vampire asked, still more curious than anything else.

The spell took hold, readying the magic inside her, and Sasha released a soft, pained breath. “You don’t look so scary. I bet you get that a lot. So do I.”

Dylan edged in front of Sasha with a low rumble of warning. He paced one step toward Prudence, and the wolf whimpering in the corner staggered to his feet and lunged at Sasha.

Everything happened at once. Dylan spun and barreled into the attacker with an angry snarl. The wolf tumbled back to the floor as Dylan lifted his head and let out a furious howl of challenge. Magic thundered through the room, a crash sounded from upstairs, and the wolf on the floor rolled onto his back in obvious surrender.

Cold, slim fingers closed around Sasha’s shoulders and jerked her back. Prudence’s soft laughter tickled the side of her neck. “You don’t have to be scary to be powerful, my dear.”

Sasha barely had time to breathe the words Maritza had taught her, a witch’s last line of defense, before the woman’s teeth sank into her skin. Sharp pain bloomed, and she thrashed instinctively, though she knew the iron strength in Prudence’s hands wouldn’t give.

Dylan roared his fury and shifted his weight, presumably in prelude to an attack. One of Prudence’s hands shot up to close around the front of Sasha’s throat in obvious threat, and Dylan froze, the look in his golden eyes wild.

The railing above the foyer splintered as a chair crashed through it and tumbled to the first floor. Dylan’s claws clicked as he scrambled out of the way, and Prudence released Sasha with a laugh.

Joe appeared at the top of the stairs, disheveled, his bare chest displaying an array of cuts, welts and bites. His gaze fixed on Prudence, and his steps were steady and sure as he made his way down the staircase. “Where is she?” he demanded.

Sasha pressed a shaky hand to her neck. “Brynn’s outside,” she told him hoarsely. “Go.”

Dylan had already gotten between her and Prudence, his body trembling with tension as he inched back, forcing Sasha to move to keep from tripping over him.

Prudence swayed. She swiped at the corner of her mouth, smearing blood across her fingers. She stared down at her hand, and those delicate, perfectly arched eyebrows came together as she frowned. “I don’t…”

She staggered, groping for something to catch her balance on, and Dylan pounced. Wolf and vampire went down in a tangle of thrashing limbs and fur. Her earlier speed and grace had vanished, but she was still strong. Both arms locked around Dylan’s body and squeezed until he yelped. He twisted and closed his jaws on her arm, and it was her turn to scream. She flung Dylan away, sent him skittering across the floor with his claws scratching up the hardwood.

Prudence rolled to her hands and knees and tried to stand. Her elbows gave out and her hands slid across the floor as her body collapsed. She twisted around, cold blue gaze finding Sasha. “Witch.”

“Yes.” This time, she didn’t bother trying to make sure Adam wouldn’t be hurt outside. She recalled the spell, building it again, whispering the words over and over until the magic exploded in a surge of life.

Light flared, and Prudence screamed. Sasha hit the floor just as she heard another cry from outside, low and masculine and filled with pain, but there wasn’t time to worry about Adam. Prudence rolled onto her back, her face slack from agony, as the glow of magic intensified.

Dylan groaned, and this time it sounded human. He strode into Sasha’s field of vision, naked and covered with blood and vicious-looking cuts and bite marks. Prudence tried to crawl away as he dropped to his knees next to her, but the spell had done its work.

He made it quick. Dylan’s hands closed around the vampire’s head and he twisted sharply, silencing her desperate noises by snapping her neck. He didn’t look at Sasha as he dropped his hands to his thighs, the line of his back rigid and tense. “Is she dead?”

“I think so.” There were too many mingled auras for her to be certain, inside the house and out, too much adrenaline and pain and desperation. “There are things we can do to make sure.” Sasha crawled closer and touched Dylan. “Are you okay?”

Tension flared and he jerked away from her hand. “Fine.” The word came out rough and gravelly. “Can you check on Brynn and Joe?”

Sasha stared at Dylan’s back and the smear of blood she’d left there, then pressed her hand to the wound on her neck. “I’ll take care of it.”

There was no reason to be hurt by his words. The vampire might be dead, but they were still in the middle of a dangerous fight, and she tried to remind herself of that as she walked out the front door. Joe stood in the yard, his arms around Brynn and his mouth close to her ear.

Even looking at them felt like intruding, so Sasha bypassed them and stopped beside Adam. “Prudence is dead, I think.”

He glanced down at her, swore and reached for her hand. “You’re bleeding.”

“She bit me. I’m sure she found the experience wholly unpleasant.” Her knees felt wobbly, and a dull buzzing filled her ears. “I don’t feel…”

She barely heard Adam’s rough curse as the world went black.

Chapter Ten

One of these things is not like the others.

Dylan tried not to fidget with the coffee cup in his hands as he waited for Emily to settle herself in the seat on his right. Lawrence’s wife, Irene, was already seated on his left, her strong hands clenched together so hard her knuckles were white. Her eyes were red and puffy and her expression looked carved from stone, but neither was surprising. Her husband, her mate, had died that night, died during the culmination of a chain of events she’d put into motion with a phone call.

And now she sat at the table of the man who had killed him.

Ethan looked a little worse for the wear, though he’d taken a shower and let Emily and the pack’s doctor examine his injuries. Dylan had received similar attentions after he’d forced the doctor to check on Sasha. She’d fared better than most of them in the injury department, though exhaustion from expending too much magical energy had finally taken its toll.

Sasha was resting easily. Joe and Brynn—well, Dylan felt more comfortable pretending they were resting easily too, and prayed like hell they would be by the time he made his way back to the guest house. As for Dylan himself… One of these things is most definitely not like the others.

Three strong alpha wolves sat on three sides of Ethan and Emily’s cozy kitchen table, and all three watched him expectantly.

Dylan cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. “I talked to Gavin. He’s working with Sam now to rearrange some funds. You’ll have enough money to feed the town through the winter.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, and Dylan knew his pride was warring with his practicality. “I’ll have to thank him, and let him know we’ll repay him as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” Dylan forced himself to look at Irene. “I think Sam’s going to call you tomorrow and invite you to Red Rock. In case you need a chance to get away.”

She barely glanced at him. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“You are not a bother.” Emily leaned forward, her eyes intense. “I know you probably can’t take comfort from us. I don’t blame you. But you need it. You deserve it, Irene.”

“I don’t—” She looked away, trembling, her lips clamped together tightly.

Ethan touched Emily’s arm. “Plenty of time to figure things out, for all of us.” He turned his gaze to Dylan. “Does Gavin need you, or can you stay a few days and heal up?”

“He wants us to stay here until we’re all on our feet again.” And until Joe could let go of Brynn for long enough to assess the town and make sure there wouldn’t be trouble from Bangor.

“As long as you like.” The new alpha drummed his fingers on the table. “I want to take a walk. You feel like taking a walk, Dylan?”

He felt like crawling into bed with Sasha, but the magic that still thrummed inside him brought with it the urge to do things that would probably scare her. He could still remember the pain in her voice after he’d killed the vampire, the way she’d reacted when he’d jerked away from her touch. But better pain than fear, and he couldn’t imagine any other reaction to finding her lover covered with blood and aroused by the thought of celebrating victory between her thighs.

Ethan still watched him, so he shoved down the uncomfortable memories and nodded. “As long as it’s not a long walk. I probably need sleep too.”

“Understood.” The man ran his hand over Emily’s hair as he rose. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“You’d better be.” Emily caught Ethan’s hand and kissed it, and for just a moment Dylan caught that same wildness in her eyes that he’d seen in Brynn and Joe’s, that wildness he’d been fighting all night. They’d fought for their lives, dealt death and triumphed. Something primal inside demanded recognition of the fact that they were still alive, wanted the proof that came from hard, crazy sex that pushed limits and left the body drained and trembling.

Which was all well and good if your partner was another wolf fighting the same urge. Sasha was a human who’d been hurt by rough, out-of-control werewolves. The only thing that terrified Dylan more than the thought of bringing her to bed with that sort of wildness was the possibility that she wouldn’t stop him, even if it scared her.

Outside, the night was silent. Ethan went no farther than the porch steps, and he lowered himself to them with a wince and a sheepish laugh. “Maybe I’m not up for a walk, after all. But I wanted to talk to you alone. I don’t need Em kicking my ass tonight.”

Dylan nodded his understanding and leaned against the railing. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah.” Ethan rested his elbows on his knees. “You and Sasha. Are you settled in Red Rock?”

Easy relaxation vanished as the wolf scented a threat. “Not exactly. But I owe a lot to Gavin.”

“I absolutely get that. I mean, hell, so do I now. But we could really use Sasha around here.” He hesitated and looked up at Dylan. “There’s a boy in town, nearly a teenager now. He’s shown some magical aptitude, but he hasn’t had a teacher…”

Dylan bit back an instinctive growl and forced himself to consider the words. A place where she was needed, but not feared. Someone to teach. Safety from the war. Peace. If you really gave a damn about Sasha, you’d beg her to stay here. “There’s a war going on in Red Rock. I can’t leave them to fight it alone.”

“I wouldn’t ask anyone to do that.” Ethan’s eyes darkened. “Look, I wanted to talk to you before I talked to Sasha. I’m not asking her to abandon her friends. I just thought maybe she could make her way back around sometime, that’s all.”

Guilt made Dylan queasy. “Half of the reason we’re here is because the town is scared of her. She’s miserable there. She should stay here.”

The alpha held up both hands. “I’d have to be an idiot not to figure out you two are together, and I’m no idiot. Not trying to cause trouble, either.”

“You’re not.” Dylan closed his eyes and leaned his head against the solid oak post. “Trouble was already there. We’ve got some stuff to figure out. But maybe it’ll be easier to figure out if she knows she has someplace to go.”

Ethan rose. “I’ll hold off on asking her about it. Give you two a chance to talk.”

In a way it would have been easier to let Ethan be the one to make the offer. It might have been fairer to Sasha too. Without Dylan present she wouldn’t have to hide her wishes, wouldn’t feel the need to soothe his ego or his bruised feelings…

Coward. It was another way of running away. He’d fled from Cindy so he wouldn’t have to see the rejection in her eyes and told himself he was doing her a favor. If he wanted Sasha, he was going to have to fight for her.

He was going to have to sacrifice for her.

Dylan met Ethan’s gaze. “As long as I’d be welcome.”

“Hell, yeah.” The other man held out his hand. “Any of you, always.”

“Then I’ll talk to her.” Dylan shook Ethan’s hand and smiled. “Better go inside before Emily comes out here to get you. I don’t think I want to be in her way when that happens.”

“Not if she’s figured out why I wanted to speak with you.”

Tension returned. “Because she doesn’t want Sasha here?”

Ethan snorted. “Because if she knew I’d purposefully talked to you before Sasha, she’d call me a sexist ass and make me sleep on the couch for a week.”

Normally Dylan might have agreed with Emily’s thoughts on the matter, but with the moon magic still lingering inside him he wasn’t sure what his reaction might have been to a wolf trying to lure Sasha to his pack. Not when he hadn’t gotten to touch her, hold her…claim her.

Discomfort twisted his stomach, and he dragged in a breath that came out as a growl. “How do you live like this all the time?”

“Don’t really think about it, I guess.” Ethan shrugged. “No sense in fighting what you can’t change. That’s not going to help you much, though, huh?”

“Not really.” Nothing would help but seeing Sasha and knowing she was safe. With practice born of a decade of repression he shoved his wolf down as he straightened. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ethan.”

He’d already turned toward the door. “Breakfast’s at seven.”

The short walk to their guest lodgings should have given him time to get his instincts under control. In the past it had been easy, a simple matter of turning off anything inside him that wasn’t directly related to survival. Not healthy, perhaps, but the only choice. A way to bend instead of breaking.

Then again, Sasha felt necessary to survival. Air, food, shelter…his mate. Melodramatic. Terrifying.

True.

So find a way to show her without scaring her to death. And after that, he’d cure cancer and find the solution to world peace.

Sasha had almost decided that she should stop staring at the wall and get up, get dressed, when the door opened. She tensed without meaning to, and she had to take in and release a deep breath before she could bring herself to roll over.

Dylan stood in the doorway, his entire body stiff and his eyes blazing. Remnants of power vibrated around him, made him seem like a dangerous werewolf instead of the considerate man who had seduced her so carefully.

She sat up. He looked the same as he had outside Adam’s cabin, when she’d almost begged him to take her. Now, Sasha had no connection to the wildness tearing through him, only what she could see and sense. It would have been frightening, except that she trusted him with her life.

She opened her arms.

His fingers spasmed on the doorframe and he swayed toward her, then froze with a low groan. “Sasha.” Her name came out hoarse, full of rough promise and need. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You won’t. She wanted to say it, and almost did. But she’d felt that uncontrollable need, and she was only human. If she urged him to, he’d let go. And if he hurt her, he’d never forgive himself.

So Sasha crawled out of the bed and stood beside it, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Tell me what to do. How to make sure you don’t hurt me.”

He stepped over the threshold and closed the door. A moment later he reached for the lock, fumbling with the old-fashioned hook until it rested safely in the ring attached to the wall. Every movement was slow, painfully careful. His hands shook as he curled them in his T-shirt and tugged at it. “Don’t move fast,” he whispered, the words muffled by the fabric as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“All right.” She slipped her own shirt over her head with trembling hands. “What else?”

His gaze swept up her body, and the fire in his eyes grew more intense as he dropped his hands to his borrowed sweatpants. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

Her pajama pants hit the floor, and she slid her panties down her legs. The raw passion burning in his eyes made her skin feel tight, and she licked her lips as her breathing quickened. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Soon.” He was already barefoot. The sweatpants landed near her feet and he stood in front of her, naked and hard. His gaze roved over her, slowly this time, lingering on the bruise on her hip and the marks of Prudence’s fingers along her upper arms. When he reached the small bandage on the side of her neck his breath hissed out and an upset noise rumbled out of his chest.

When he moved, there was nothing human about it. He stalked around her in a wide arc, as if trying to study every inch of her for bruises or injuries. Only after he was satisfied did he step close enough that his fingers could skate along her shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

The words hovered somewhere between statement and question. “Safe.” Sasha turned to look at Dylan, and her eyes met his. “I feel out of step. I think I got used to being in your head.”

His hand smoothed down to the slender, finger-shaped bruises forming on her arm. He bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to the bandage covering the bite mark on her throat. “My head’s not pretty right now. You’re the only pretty thing there.”

“I don’t believe that.” He still seemed jumpy, but she needed to touch him, so she laid her hands lightly on his shoulders. “This is who you are. Maybe not usually, not even under normal circumstances, but sometimes. And there isn’t anything ugly about you, Dylan.”

He trailed his fingers up her shoulder and curled them around the base of her neck. “I need you.”

“I’m here. I’ll give you anything.” Sasha’s pulse jumped, and she pressed her open mouth to his cheek and jaw. Her own words shocked her because she felt them so deeply. Completely. “Anything you need.”

“Anything.” When he repeated the word it sounded rough. Uncomfortable. He tilted her head and forced her to meet his gaze. “Then give me a promise. Promise that you won’t give me everything I need. If you tell me to stop, I can stop. But I’m terrified you won’t until it’s too late.”

“No.” She pulled his hands away from her, her entire body numb except for one sick spot in the pit of her stomach. “No, Dylan. If there are things I can’t give you, then you keep looking until you find them. It’s not fair to either of us if you have to push parts of yourself down just to be with me. I won’t do it.”

He staggered back a step, then spun and braced both hands on the wall. The tight muscles in his bare back trembled as he sucked in a low breath. “You don’t know what sort of things are inside me. Have been inside me since the fight. I want them gone.”

Sasha’s eyes burned and tears slipped down her cheeks. “I could take them away,” she admitted, “but I wouldn’t be doing you any favors. You could tell me, though, and maybe it would help.”

“I killed.” The words escaped as a hoarse rasp, and his fingernails scratched into the wood of the walls. “As a wolf. I killed. And it felt good to win.”

“Of course it did. Winning feels good, that’s universal. It doesn’t mean you wanted to kill them.”

“I wanted to take you. When you touched me in that house, I wanted to turn around and take you. I wanted to fuck you on the goddamned floor with a dead vampire five feet away, because I won and you were mine.”

Every muscle in his body was tight with pain, and his aura was thick with fear and a loathing she knew was self-directed. “But you didn’t do it.”

He shuddered. “I almost did.”

“But you didn’t.” She walked up beside him and leaned against the wall beside one of his outstretched hands. “We won, and we managed to stay alive doing it. So you wanted to celebrate that, and there’s no more visceral, immediate way to do that than with sex. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

He moved so fast that her hands were pinned on either side of her head before she realized he’d gotten her back against the wall. “Are you scared of me?”

He still looked damn near feral, and she should have been. She should have been scared as hell, if only because she knew he didn’t trust himself. “No. Ugliness scares me, Dylan, and I already told you. There’s nothing ugly about you.”

Something flared inside him, strong enough that it flickered in his aura. Confusion. Hesitation.

Hope.

He groaned and crushed his lips to hers, the kiss starting off bruising hard. His teeth scraped her bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth.

Heat swept through her, and she tried to free her arms to wind around his neck. But he held her still, wrists firmly but gently in his grasp, as he deepened the kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, and Sasha moaned and arched her body into his.

Dylan guided her wrists up until he could trap them both under one hand. The other tickled down her arm and along her shoulder before inching low enough to cup her breast. He lifted his head just enough to whisper his next question against her lips. “Do you still want me?”

Now and forever. But words weren’t enough, so she raised one leg and rubbed the inside of her thigh over his hip. She used her trapped hands for leverage and stretched up on her toes, just high enough to angle her hips to graze his cock.

His fingers tightened around her wrists and he bit her chin hard enough to sting before soothing it with his tongue. His body shifted to the side, pinning her to the wall with her legs straddling his thigh. “No.”

Instinct and frustration drove her to bite him back, and she closed her teeth on his jaw.

He laughed, low and rough, and his thumb played over her nipple. “No. You want something inside you, you ask for it.”

A shiver claimed her, and she rolled her hips against the hard muscles of his thigh. “Please.”

“Please what?”

There were a thousand things she wanted, and the words that tumbled out surprised her. “Kiss me again.”

Dylan hesitated. Hoisted her a little higher until she was balanced on her toes and his mouth was inches from hers. Some of the wildness in his eyes faded as he brushed his lips over hers in the softest kiss before moving his mouth to her cheek. “I need things Cindy couldn’t give me. Maybe things no one but you could give me.”

It wasn’t the most opportune time for him to be mentioning his ex-lover, but his worried expression eliminated any thought of comparisons. “Tell me. Trust me.”

His hand released her wrists and dragged down her body as he dropped to his knees. Strong fingers curled around her hips as he rubbed his cheek against her belly. “I’m not like the alphas. I don’t want your submission. I just want your pleasure.”

“I’ve never had an alpha.” Sasha knelt in front of him and pushed at his shoulders. He landed on the floor, and she climbed over him. “But pleasure is a really good place to start.”

Dylan reached for her hips, dragging her up his body until she was straddling his chest. “I want you to show me what feels good. Tell me how to touch you. Tell me what you’ve always wanted.”

“That’s easy.” She moved his hand up to her breast and hissed in a breath when his fingertips skated over her nipple. “I want you to tease me.”

“Do you?” His thumb and forefinger caught her nipple and tugged at it. “Is that all you want?”

Desire spiked through her, leaving behind a throbbing tension that made her rock over him. “No. Teasing’s only good if there’s a payoff, like feeling you inside me.”

The hand on her hip slid around to her ass. His eyes blazed as he pulled her higher, easing her so close that his breath tickled her inner thigh. He turned his head to press a kiss to her sensitive skin, and she felt his tongue on her as a groan shook through him. “You want this.”

“Want what?” Sasha had to reach back and brace her hand on his stomach so she wouldn’t fall over. “You?”

“Me.” He bit the inside of her leg and soothed it with his tongue. “Even like this.”

“Why wouldn’t I want—” Her voice melted into a sharp moan as he touched her again. “God.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything as his hands locked around her hips and held her steady, poised with his breath falling hot against her. He stayed like that for an endless moment, the air between them buzzing with tension and building anticipation.

Then he growled and swiped his tongue over her, dragging it all the way up to tease her clit.

He definitely had the teasing part down, and Sasha squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to grind down against his mouth. “What I’ve always wanted,” she echoed in a whisper. “I’ll show you, if you want. In a minute…”

The world upended. His fingers stayed locked around her hips as he rolled to his knees and launched them both toward the bed. Her back hit the mattress, and Dylan planted his hands on either side of her head. He stared down at her with wild eyes as he gasped in desperate, panting breaths. “If anything is too much, tell me,” he whispered.

Her fingers drifted over his cheek and she nodded, entranced. “I promise.”

Magic sang inside him, everything made of restless hunger. His mouth blazed a path down her throat, licking and biting and returning to the places that made her react.

She expected him to move quickly, to urge her thighs apart with his shoulders and resume teasing her with his tongue. Instead, he continued to explore, skimming over her breasts and shoulders and even the curve of her waist.

It went on and on. Sasha arched and panted and clenched her fingers in his hair, desperate for him to take her beyond the steady waves of pleasure coursing through her. “Dylan.” Her legs tangled with his, and she pulled lightly at his hair. “More. Now.”

He chuckled against her breast and stroked his fingers between her legs, teasing just inside her before coming up to circle her clit. “Come for me.”

She bucked and groaned when he kept the touch light, fleeting. “Not until you tell me what you want.”

Dylan lifted his head and stared at her. “I want you to come. I want you to feel so good you can’t imagine anyone else touching you. I want you to be mine because I give you everything you need.”

It was everything she loved about him, distilled into a few whispered words. His needs were irrevocably tied to hers, and Sasha trembled as she reached up and ran her thumb over his lower lip. “I knew all that the first time I kissed you, Dylan.”

“Please…” He stroked her more firmly this time. “Come, Sasha.”

Her legs shook as pleasure streaked through her, and his name left her lips in a breathless cry. She turned her head to his neck and bit him as wave after wave burst through her, and he dragged her head back and covered her mouth with his own.

He didn’t stop touching her, didn’t stop kissing her, not until she was coming again. His hand drifted over to her thigh, lifting her leg. He drew back and whispered her name, low and full of longing, and thrust inside her.

It coaxed another cry from her throat, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Love you. I love you.”

He’d been gentle with her before, but the wildness she sensed inside him was too intense for slow, soft lovemaking. He drove into her hard enough to inch her body up the bed. In the next heartbeat they moved, tumbling on the bed until he was on his back and she was above him, his fingers still digging into her hips so hard she knew she’d have bruises.

One hand raced up to tangle in her hair, and he urged her head up so he could look at her. “I claimed you,” he whispered hoarsely. “Now take me.”

Sasha’s breath hitched as she stared down at him and slowly sat up. She grasped his wrists and pressed them up into the pillows. A few slow, smooth rolls of her hips gave way to a single hard grind. “Slow or fast?”

He licked his lips and arched against her. “Fast.”

He may have been beneath her, pinned to the bed, but his words were commanding. Sasha bit her lip to hold back a moan and leaned forward, bracing her weight on their hands. When she moved again, it was with a hard, deep thrust, one made so much better when he ground up to meet her with perfect timing.

His gaze stayed locked on hers as he met her movements, her name falling from his lips with every rocking thrust. He watched her like he needed her, needed her pleasure and her acceptance and everything she was.

For a moment, it almost felt like being connected with him, like being in his head. “I can’t imagine anyone else touching me.”

“They better not.” The words were a possessive rasp. “No one. No one but me.”

“Just you.” Sasha could barely choke out the words through the haze of pleasure tightening around her. She let go of Dylan’s wrists and rocked faster, circling her hips over his, her hands clenched around the top of the headboard.

He lifted his hands and touched her. Her hips, her breasts, her legs. One hand wrapped around her waist to guide her movements as the other dragged down her body. He splayed his fingers over her abdomen and his thumb found her clit, rubbing in rough, jerky counterpoint to her movements.

She couldn’t stop the curse that hissed between her clenched teeth, and she faltered as fire streaked through her. “Jesus, Dylan—”

“I can’t—” He growled as his head arched back, the strong muscles in his throat stretched taut. “Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Sasha opened her mouth to tell him how good he felt, but all that came out was a tormented moan. She pushed harder, desperate to reach the pinnacle, to come for him again.

He made a desperate noise, then another, this one lower and edged with frantic pleasure. His touch grew more insistent, and Sasha threw back her head and screamed as a second orgasm took her. She couldn’t breathe, could only grind down against him, trying to get as close as possible as paroxysms of bliss shook her.

Dylan’s hand shot up and wrapped around the back of her neck, dragging her body to his. The world spun, and she landed on her back, his mouth pressed to her skin as he ground into her with a hoarse shout. His teeth closed on her neck, hard and possessive, and she felt the last of the wild power burst free of him in one dizzying rush of pleasure and satisfaction.

Sasha lay there, panting, stunned by the depth and intensity of what they’d shared. She threaded her fingers through Dylan’s hair and trembled under him, unwilling to speak and break the sensual spell they’d woven.

Finally he eased away, not far, but enough to urge her onto her side. He curled up behind her and dragged at the disheveled blanket until it mostly covered their bodies. His movements were slow, exhausted, and his breath tickled at her neck as he sighed in quiet contentment. “You okay?”

“Better.” She held his hand over her heart. “You need to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He murmured something soft and unintelligible as the tension that had ridden him so hard melted away. His breathing evened out and his arm became a heavy weight over her body, but even in sleep he stayed wrapped around her.

Sasha tried not to let lingering doubts mar the soft pleasure Dylan’s touch always left glowing in her. Surely it wouldn’t be so hard to know what to do or say when he felt better. Surely things would be the way they’d been before, when nothing had mattered but how they felt about each other.

It took her a long time to fall asleep.

A clatter from the bathroom woke him.

Dylan rolled over and found the spot next to him empty, though the faintest hint of warmth still lingered on the sheets. The bed smelled like Sasha and sex, and it brought back hazy memories of the previous night.

He sat up and winced as his body protested. He was sore today, and not just from the bite and claw marks that were already visibly healing. His muscles ached and his body felt drained, like the hangover from a full moon multiplied a thousandfold.

The only blessing was that he felt like himself, with no trace of the furious, feral magic that had clawed its way free last night.

He found the pair of borrowed sweatpants on the floor and pulled them on, promising himself he’d figure out where his belongings had ended up later. After he’d found Sasha, after he’d reassured himself that she hadn’t slipped from the bed to hide distress…or bruises. Please, no bruises.

Knocking on the bathroom door took more courage than he wanted to admit. Luckily, Sasha opened it in only a few seconds, and she did so with a broad, sheepish grin. “I’m sorry. I was trying not to disturb you, but I’m a klutz.”

His gaze dropped to her throat, to the bruise rising in the mark of his teeth. It wasn’t a light love bite, but a rough mark. Terror churned in his stomach as he tried not to consider what else her clothing hid. “Did I—did I hurt you last night?”

“What?” Her hand shot up to touch the bruise, and she shook her head. “No. You didn’t hurt me, Dylan.”

Relief made his knees weak. “Or scare you?”

Her amiable smile faltered a little. “I wasn’t quite sure what to do or say, but I wasn’t scared. I was…worried about you.”

“I don’t blame you.” He leaned against the side of the doorframe and let himself relax a tiny bit. “Let’s not pump me full of crazy feral power again unless the end of the world is nigh. I’m not sure I like it.”

Sasha laughed lightly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Actually, I’m fairly sure you hated it. At least, that’s what you said last night.”

He didn’t remember most of the previous night, which wasn’t reassuring. He reached up and tugged at a wild strand of her hair. “Don’t get me wrong, Sasha. If you like crazy sex, I’m all for crazy sex. I just…want to do it because we want to, not because I have to.”

“No argument here.” Her expression turned serious. “I think we need to talk about that. I mean, not about that, specifically. But about what happened.”

The nerves returned, stronger this time. “Okay.”

“Sit,” she urged. She pulled a scarred chair from the corner and sank onto it. “First things first, I guess. We, uh, didn’t use a condom last night. I’m on the Pill, so it’s not a big deal. I’ve always used condoms for birth control before…”

Blood pounded in his ears, bringing with it the threat of full-on panic. Ten years as a werewolf and three years before that as a hormonal young human, and he’d never forgotten a condom. If women weren’t safe in his world, children would have been the ultimate irresponsibility. He’d never been so drunk, so needy, so anything that he’d forgotten that one rule.

Until last night. His fingers clenched around the bedspread and he tried to process her words. “You’re… You’re okay?”

“Yeah.” She pushed her wet hair from her face and eyed him seriously. “Not that it’s a situation I want to have repeat itself. I mean, condoms protect you from more than just pregnancy. That’s what I meant, it just…didn’t come out right, I guess.”

He knew what he had to do. Unclench his jaw and tell her she didn’t have to worry, that werewolves didn’t carry STDs. That it wasn’t going to happen anymore because a life of paranoia wasn’t easily overcome.

Except last night it had been.

She was starting to look uncomfortable, and that gave him the self-control to pull himself back together. He relaxed his hands and cleared his throat. “Werewolves have some natural protection, so you don’t have to worry about anything else. Other than pregnancy, I mean. But…I’m a fan of condoms. Huge fucking fan. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that I was that out of control.”

“I understand, Dylan, and it’s okay.” She wove her fingers together and clasped her hands in her lap. “But I don’t think we should have sex anymore when you’re going through something like that. Not because I didn’t like it, or because I was scared, but because you were.”

The blunt truth deserved equal honesty in return. “I was scared because it’s never happened before. It was too damn much. Power I could barely control, violence and blood and you being hurt while everything between us…” He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Things aren’t sure, Sasha. Because we keep saying we’ll talk about it later. I don’t think we can keep waiting for later, because it makes me weaker, not knowing.”

“Okay.” She barely hesitated. “I want to be with you.”

Dylan ruthlessly crushed a rush of triumph. “It’s not fair to ask you to come back to Red Rock with me. And Ethan wants to talk to you. He wants to ask you to stay here.”

“Well, I can’t. They need me in Red Rock, even if some people don’t want me there.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her, trying to read anything in her steady gaze that might indicate she was going back for him, or out of some misplaced need to pay back a nonexistent debt. “You don’t owe them anything, Sasha. You saved us here. Again. Gavin would be the first to tell you that.”

“They need me,” she repeated. “I want to finish what I started, Dylan. And then…I want us to decide what to do next. But if Red Rock is where you feel at home, I’m not letting a bunch of virtual strangers drive me away. What you want means more to me than that.”

He opened his arms in a silent question.

Sasha came into his arms and perched on his lap, her lips against his cheek. “It’s pretty simple. If I can be what you need, then I want that. That’s all.”

He tightened his arms around her, held her close to his chest and buried his face in her hair. “I can’t leave Abby and Brynn in the middle of a war,” he whispered. “I got them into this world. But when it’s over, when everything’s safe, we can find somewhere we both love. Some place that feels like home for both of us.”

“Actually…” She pulled back enough to rest her forehead against his. “Would you think I was crazy if I said I sort of miss it now?”

“Not at all. Red Rock’s a dream. Maybe that’s not always good for them, because they don’t remember what the rest of the world’s like. But for all its faults, it’s still sanctuary.”

“Yes, it is.” Her lips brushed his. “When do we go home?”

Home. The word shivered through him, brought a sense of safety and longing he’d never imagined could be associated with a place. But it wasn’t just the place…it was the dream of peace and pack, and the promise of having Sasha there to share it with him. “Soon. There’s one thing we have to do first.”

Chapter Eleven

They found Adam behind his cabin by following the repetitive sound of an axe crashing through wood. The sky was overcast, but it was only midmorning, making it obvious that this vampire, at least, didn’t find daylight painful.

Dylan nudged Sasha in the side. “Cross sunlight off our list of weapons for Helena.”

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Adam swung the axe up with one hand and embedded it three inches in the log in front of him without any apparent effort. “Most vampires don’t do well in the sun.” Unspoken was the casually arrogant assertion that Adam wasn’t most vampires.

“We still have beheading and fire.” Sasha shrugged one shoulder. “Should be a piece of cake. Well, if we had a vampire ally of our own, anyway.”

Adam rubbed one hand against his opposite shoulder and surveyed them both. “Chopping wood’s good for thinking. Had a lot to think about.”

Sasha offered him a smile. “We thought we’d extend an official invitation to return to Montana with us. Just in case you were serious about wanting to work off that life debt.”

“I am. But there are a few things to consider.”

Unsurprising, especially since Dylan still didn’t know what—or who—Adam ate to stay alive. “Sasha’s the one who knows about vampires. I thought they were a myth until a few weeks ago.”

Adam transferred his gaze to Sasha. “You know how vampire magic works?”

“I know enough to tell you the Helena vampire makes your friend Prudence look like a child, and I’d feel a lot better not facing him alone.”

“I need to feed,” Adam said, his voice soft and deadly enough to make Dylan shiver. “Not a lot. Not all the time. I’m strong enough that I’m not tied to constant blood, but if I’m going to be fighting my own kind, I’ll need the energy.”

Dylan frowned slightly. “Feeding on wolves. If you can’t use their magic, how does it help you?”

“Never said I couldn’t use it.”

He’d said that it made vampires crazy. Of course, he’d also said some were willing to take the risk. The thought of bringing someone that dangerous to Red Rock chilled Dylan. “So you take power from wolves.”

“No. Wolves give power to me.” Adam nodded to Sasha. “She knows the difference.”

Sasha’s brow furrowed in confusion, but her eyes cleared as realization dawned. “So it works the same way as a spell, then.” She turned to Dylan. “It’s like the difference between when I took power from you and when I took it from Brynn. She fought me instinctively, and it changed things. Made the energy harder to control.”

“Willing blood sacrifice is powerful magic.” Adam met Dylan’s eyes. “Are there wolves in Red Rock willing to give that gift?”

Not if you call it blood sacrifice. But it wasn’t a question. Red Rock needed a strong ally, and he could bring them one. “Even if no one else is, I am.”

Sasha tensed beside Dylan and gripped his hand tighter as she spoke. “We both are.”

Possessive fury roared up inside him, stronger than he’d felt in ten years of living as a werewolf. His jaw tightened, but he refused to give voice to the protest growing inside him. Sasha deserved the freedom to make her own choices, to be as strong as she wanted to be. Even if it killed him.

Adam’s eyes flashed with something almost like amusement. “My dear little witch, you have a lot to learn about werewolves. If you care about the one standing next to you, you might not want to offer strange men the chance to sink fangs into your throat.”

Oddly, Adam’s words made it easier to choke down his rage, though it didn’t make his voice any calmer. “Sasha makes her own choices.”

“I don’t live to upset the man I love.” Sasha sounded almost grumpy. “You’re not getting near my throat, Adam Dubois, unless people’s lives actually depend on it. But, in the end, I think he and I understand each other.” She looked up, and her clear blue eyes met Dylan’s. “We’re tough, and we do what we have to do, right?”

“We do what we have to do,” he agreed in a quiet murmur. And right now, he had to slide his fingers into her hair and tilt her head back…

“I’m still standing right here, you know.”

Dylan didn’t tear his gaze away from Sasha’s mouth, which was soft and beautiful and clearly needed kissing. “So go pack your bags.”

“If the two of you are going to make out the whole way back to Montana, I’m driving my own truck.”

“Have fun with that.”

The vampire huffed and strode past them, leaving Dylan alone with a beautiful witch whose smile summoned the one feeling he’d needed for a decade. Happiness. “Are we going to make out the whole way back to Montana?”

There was that smile. “Joe might try to lash us to the luggage rack.”

“Let him try.” And because Dylan had to acknowledge the very real possibility that Joe would not only try but succeed, he tightened his fingers in Sasha’s hair. She was a woman who needed kissing. Kissing and touching and love, so much that it would take a lifetime to give her everything he wanted.

A lifetime sounded just about perfect.

About the Author

How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. To learn more about this romance-writing, crime-fighting duo, visit their webpage at www.moirarogers.com, or drop them an email at moira@moirarogers.com. (Disclaimer: crime-fighting abilities may appear only in the aforementioned fevered imaginations.)

Look for these titles by Moira Rogers

Now Available:

Cry Sanctuary

Crux

Sanctuary Lost

Coming Soon:

Crossroads

She’s ready to fight at his side. He’s fighting for the strength to let her go.

Sanctuary Lost

© 2009 Moira Rogers

Red Rock Pass, Book 2.

If there’s one thing that Brynn Adler hates, it’s feeling helpless and vulnerable in unfamiliar territory. Three weeks ago, life tossed her into just such a world. A world of werewolves she never knew existed—until she found out her sister was one of them.

The pack seems determined to hurry her back to the normal world of humans. But after everything she’s witnessed, she’s not sure she wants to go—especially if it means leaving not only her sister behind, but the one man who makes her forget her life is falling apart.

Now all she has to do is convince him to agree to a plan to force the pack to let her stay.

Joe Mitchell has been battling his protective instincts since he rescued Brynn from her kidnapper. Getting involved with her is a bad idea for a lot of reasons. She’s on shaky emotional ground, and a supernatural war is no place for a human woman. He’s not about to let her make a hasty decision, one that will only bring her pain and regret.

Now all he has to do is let her go.

Warning: This book contains violence, a war between werewolf packs, hot, primal sex and sexual power games with a badass ex-Special Forces alpha who will do anything to keep his lover safe.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Sanctuary Lost:

His control wavered. He dragged her head back and growled against her jaw line. “You have to watch the biting, sweetheart. Do it too much, and it’s as good as a brand. You’ll be stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?” Her voice sounded breathless and unsteady. “I’m not—I don’t think I understand…”

“Everyone will think I belong to you.” He meant the words as a warning, but they came out sounding like a harsh plea.

The silence between them felt heavy and tense, even though Brynn’s fingers never stopped their slow, maddening caress. Finally she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “Do you want to?”

Joe swallowed, then let go of her and backed away a step. He’d convinced himself that, if Cindy would be Brynn’s Guide, he could handle everything else she asked of him. “What happened to friendly sex? No big deal?”

Something flashed across her face—pain or vulnerability or maybe even rejection—but she was good at controlling her expression. It was gone a heartbeat later, replaced with a fixed smile that looked strained around the edges. “I’m sorry. I got a little carried away.”

He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Damn it, Brynn. Will you stop trying to be so damn sophisticated and worldly for five minutes and tell me what it is you want?”

That got an honest reaction out of her. Brynn scrambled to her knees and clutched her bra against her chest as she glared at him. “That is some condescending bullshit right there. But if you’d like me to blunt it up for you, sure. I want to have dirty fucking sex with you with an intensity that sort of freaks me out, because guns and muscles and hero shit has never turned me on before, but suddenly now I can’t think of anything but you.”

He steeled himself, tamping down the surge of emotion that rose at her words. “That isn’t what I meant. You just can’t seem to decide whether you want to take me for a tumble, or warn every other woman in town away from me.” He caught her arm as she jerked away. “So which is it?”

“I don’t know.” The words were low and desperate, and he knew she was lying. She knew, too; he saw it in her face before she looked away and squeezed her eyes shut. When she spoke, it was in a whisper so soft he almost couldn’t hear her. “I don’t want to share you. I want you to myself.”

He hauled her toward him, catching her when she might have tumbled off the bed. His mouth landed on hers, firm and demanding, opening her lips so his tongue could slip inside. Her hair spilled around them like long threads of silk, and he pulled the cotton bra away so he could smooth his hand over her skin.

She moaned, the sound mostly muffled by his mouth, and for several long minutes she seemed content with nothing more than kissing him. As aggressive as she’d been about initiating sex, she seemed more subdued now. Not submissive, exactly, and certainly not passive, but willing—even eager—to let him take the lead.

Joe climbed on the bed, pressing her back into the pillows, and trailed his lips down the soft curve of her neck. “I’ll be careful. I swear it, Brynn.”

Her sigh was one of pleasure, and she tangled her fingers in his hair and tilted her head back a little more. “I trust you, and I’m not going to break.”

He’d throw himself off the roof before he hurt her physically, but he wasn’t sure if that was what he’d meant at all. “I know.” He scraped his teeth over her skin and fought a groan when her body jerked under his. “Tonight’s just going to be something good, honey. You need that. We both do.”

“We both do,” she agreed, and the way her voice trembled made his fingers tighten around the button of her jeans. The fingers of her free hand traced over his shoulder and down his arm, following his biceps. “You never did tell me what else you kinky Green Beret werewolves like. Are we talking Discovery Channel and hair pulling? Or, like, whips and chains and leather skirts? I didn’t pack any vinyl, just so you know…”

He yanked the button free and nudged her zipper down slowly. “Good thing I have plastic wrap in the kitchen,” he joked.

She laughed, low and breathless, and there was something distinctly naughty about the look in her eyes. “I let a guy try to tie me to the bed with plastic wrap once. The idea was much more appealing in theory than practice.”

“Do you usually sleep with stupid guys? That’s not what the plastic is for.” He levered himself up and reached for the drawer in his bedside table. “See, this is what you use to tie a woman up.” He dragged out several scarves and let them drop to skim over her bare breasts as he moved them to his other hand.

He didn’t need his enhanced senses to register her approval of the idea. Her nipples tightened under the teasing brush of silk, and she sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes fluttered shut. “I didn’t sleep with stupid men. I slept with overeducated men. Sometimes that’s worse.”

“Losers come in all shapes, sizes and tax brackets, honey.” He reached for her arm and froze when he saw the wrap around her delicate wrist. Shit. He’d forgotten about her sprain. “This is a bad idea.”

Her eyes popped open again. “What? Why?”

He grinned, his ego soothed by the fact that she’d forgotten, as well. “You’re hurt.” His thumb stroked over the bandage. “It slipped our minds.”

“So don’t tie me up.” She shifted her other hand and slid it down his back. “Save something for later.”

They should be saving it all for later, for a time when he could think, when his mind wasn’t so scrambled by desire. But he still dropped the silk to the bed and stretched out over her, his lips finding the bare, vulnerable curve where her neck met her shoulder.

She drew in a breath and let it out on a soft sigh as her fingers drifted lower. Her hand dipped under the waistband of his jeans, and she turned her head so her breath tickled against his ear. “I’m thinking the clothes need to be gone.”

A sharp, quick tug brought her jeans off her hips, revealing the white cotton panties she wore. “All of them?” he teased as he hooked one finger under the elastic band and pulled gently.

“I was talking about your clothing.” But she lifted her hips a little in obvious invitation. “Not that you don’t look absurdly hot in nothing but jeans, but they might get in the way of my plans for the evening.”

Joe drew the cotton down her legs along with her jeans. “I know what you were talking about, honey.” He left his own jeans buttoned and in place. “Plenty of time.”

She braced her elbows on the bed and lifted up a little to watch him. “And what, exactly, are you planning to do to me that’s going to take all this time?”

He laughed and dropped her pants on the floor, then teased the back of her knee with his fingers. “I didn’t know you wanted a formal program for the evening.”

“Mmm, no. I’ve got confidence in your experience.” She shifted her leg and rubbed her calf against his side. “I think we can go forward without an outline.”

“Good to know.” He climbed on the bed, this time stretching out beside her and twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. “I’m better at winging it, anyway.” He used the tip of one curl to tease over her skin, then followed the invisible path with his tongue.

She responded with a shiver and an encouraging noise. Her hands found his back again, more aggressive this time as she dragged her nails lightly over his shoulders. He swallowed the growl that rose in his throat and stroked his hand down her belly and between her thighs as his lips parted over her breast and he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

She arched up to his touch, hot and wet, and his fingers slipped against her. This time, he groaned against her skin and caught her nipple between his teeth.

“Oh, God…” Her hand groped at the back of his head, and she choked on another moan as she shifted her legs apart and rocked into his touch with shameless abandon.

He barely brushed her clit, teasing more than anything else, and moved to swirl his tongue around her other nipple. He remained there, touching her without deepening his caresses, and waited for her to come to him.

It didn’t take long. A whimper escaped her and she dug her feet into the bed and arched her hips into his touch. “Joe!”

He turned his face to her neck. “What?”

She wiggled a little and somehow worked a hand between them. Her fingers rubbed against his cock through the fabric of his jeans, and she moaned again. “I am way too turned on for teasing.”

He clenched his jaw and moved his hand lower and pressed one finger inside her, rocking the heel of his hand against her. “Better?”

Brynn groaned, and her hand shifted up until her fingers encountered his belt. She swore softly and clutched at it as her hips rocked with his hand. “Fuck! I…can’t—oh Christ…”

“That’s right,” he murmured. He drew his finger back and thrust another one in, as well. “You want me naked, you have to come for me.”

Someone wants their perfect weapon back, only she’s not coming quietly.

Stripped

© 2009 Marcia Colette

Alexa Wells wants her life back. She’s just not sure what that life was. The memories inside her head—a stripper’s—aren’t hers, and before she humiliates herself onstage one more time, she sets out to collect the scattered pieces of her mind. The trail leads to Boston, charges of identity theft and murder, and the real bombshell: a forgotten werewolf lover who insists she’s a werewolf hybrid.

Matt York doesn’t care that she looks at him like he’s been smoking crack between court cases. Now that he has her back he’s not about to let her go it alone, even if she can easily kick ass and take names all by herself. Amnesia only scratches the surface of her problems, and like it or not, she’s stuck with him.

She’s also stuck with Robert Gamboldt, a venture capitalist who’s not above murdering his way to the top. He’s not about to lose his prize possession without playing dirty. It’s a simple enough offer. Be his personal assassin, or go to jail.

With options like that, it’s enough to make a hybrid go full-blood.

Warning: Delicious sexual tension with a werewolf who’ll wait as long as it takes for his hybrid werewolf mate to come around.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Stripped:

Matt’s wild scent came through like fresh cologne. I smelled him all the way over the railing and into the bushes where he had disappeared.

Woods enveloped my surroundings. I leaped over large boulders and rotted stumps, following his trail. Strange that I honed in on it among the woodsy scents. I could even pick out the fresh rabbit trails and deer that had left crisscross paths along the ground. When I came to a small ravine, I slid down the incline and splashed into the frigid brook at the bottom. Matt’s scent had disappeared, but I continued in a straight line anyway. There was no reason why he’d head downstream unless another animal was after him and he wanted to lose the scent. Grabbing a thick root, I climbed up the opposite side of the hill.

I stopped and whiffed the air. Still, no male wolf smell. Damn. Maybe my senses were wrong after all.

Stupid as it sounded, my instincts urged me to go down on all fours. It was a good thing I was in the middle of the forest or I’d never have lived this down. After dropping to my knees, I pressed my face close to the earth and sniffed around for a scent. I must have looked like a wild woman raised by dogs, pushing my way through leaves and twigs.

A smell hit me. On the smooth surface of a small rock, I found a piece of Matt. Excited, I continued searching, picking up more and more until I found the right direction again. I hopped to my feet and darted through a thick copse.

Branches and twigs snagged my sweats and pricked my calves. Twice, I tripped on rocks and thick roots, but they didn’t stop me. I needed to find him before that maniac hunter put a bullet in his ass. I was sure he wasn’t hurt or I would’ve smelled blood on the air.

Something about this experience brought back pieces of my dreams with me running through the woods. I half-expected a pack of wolves to filter out of the shadows and run with me. They didn’t, of course, but in a way, I wished they had. At least those shadows were friendly. Heaven only knew what awaited me out here.

A black wolf leaped from a band of thick foliage. I stopped and threw my back against the nearest tree, cold bark biting into my back.

Matt—my gut said it was him—growled. His ears flattened on his canine head and his lips peeled back to reveal a set of serrated teeth. The only signs of his human half were in his mahogany eyes. However, with the searing hatred burning through them now, I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure about that.

He lunged.

I ducked to the right and threw my fists in front of me, ready to fight him off. I guess I was wrong about anything human behind those eyes once he had turned into a wolf.

Matt landed somewhere behind my tree. A man screamed and stumbled backward. The wolf’s powerful jaws remained clamped around his assailant’s arm. Jerking his head from side to side, he hung on until bones cracked like a person biting into an apple. The yanking had turned into a pull as he tore the arm off and let it fall to the ground. Matt lunged at the man’s throat, silencing his horrific screams.

The savagery of his kill bothered me, though I knew it shouldn’t. If my dreams were correct, I had killed a few werewolves of my own, only I didn’t have sharp teeth to do it with. However, that cute butt and those adorable dimples didn’t seem cute anymore. Part of him was human, but full acceptance meant choosing the beast inside him too. That scared me. I didn’t want to be a savage like that.

Matt stumbled away from the unmoving body. In fact…he stumbled a lot.

Any doubts I had left me. I ran to him and dropped to my knees.

A whine came through his closed muzzle as he walked with a slight limp. Whenever he stopped moving, he lifted his left paw off the ground or barely let it touch.

“Come here, you big baby.” I snatched him by the scruff of his neck and buried his head between my breasts. That might be just the thing he needed to calm down. “Let me see.”

He groaned and pulled away. I got rough with him this time. Matt tripped into me, so I wrapped one arm around his neck and held him still. He was a powerful animal, but I held my own and examined his shoulder. Maybe this was the best way to respect the wolf side of him. Through power and strength, seeing as he seemed to understand that most.

Blood matted his fur. At first, I thought it was from the man he had killed, but even after I cleaned it with my fingers, more appeared. Jagged pieces of skin about the size of a quarter kept pooling with blood. It looked like a graze, which meant he’d be okay. If he were human. Being a werewolf, I couldn’t be sure.

“You need to change,” I said. “You up to it?”

This time, Matt pulled away and settled down on his belly. His head lowered between his front legs and he closed his eyes.

His fur rippled. Seconds later, something began slithering underneath his bubbling coat. Several cracks jolted his legs and back. His tail was the first to go. It began receding into his tailbone until it disappeared. His face broke in several different spots just as his pointed ears began to round off and shrink back to where they were level with his eyes. Clawed paws elongated into fingers, thumb pressing out on the sides. With the exception of his head, his black hair had thinned out like a man balding on a time-lapse camera.

Minutes later, a naked man lay on the ground with one leg bent and the other one sticking straight out at me. Had the circumstances been less urgent, I might have sat there and admired the view.

An untriggered werewolf. A runaway Omega. It’s not easy fighting destiny.

Wolf Flight

© 2009 Vivien Arend

Granite Lake Wolves, Book 2

Tad Maxwell’s workaholism serves to keep his bush-pilot company in the air, and his inner werewolf in check. In the two years since he discovered his heritage, he’s resisted the longing to test the power of his wolf side. It would mean compromising his human principles.

Then Missy Leason re-enters his life. Ten years ago, their teenage attraction never went beyond hand-holding. Now their chemistry is off the charts, pushing him closer to the step he’s not sure it’s safe to take, especially with a human.

But Missy is more like Tad than he realizes. She’s wolf too, and a wolf pack is a dangerous place to have secrets. Missy’s Alpha has sniffed out her carefully hidden Omega powers. Her first response: run from the corrupt Alpha’s plan to make her his mate. Step two: get to Tad, and hope like hell his untapped powers are strong enough to negate her own.

Every touch with Missy is hot, hot, hot, but even finding out she’s pure wolf doesn’t solve Tad’s dilemma. Is she using him, or are they truly destined mates? Only one thing is certain. He will defend her to his last breath—on his terms. Even if it means losing his life.

Warning: Contains nasty Alphas, secret Omegas and werewolves acting raunchy on the dance floor. Sarcasm, wilderness cabins and hot nookie back by popular demand.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Wolf Flight:

By the time they pulled into the parking lot Missy was half out of her mind restraining herself from jumping Tad. She popped open her door and leapt into the blowing snow as soon as the truck shimmied to a stop.

Long deep breaths of icy cold air helped until Tad stepped around the cab with a concerned expression on his face.

“You okay, Missy?”

Oh, please don’t look concerned. Concern was one step away from affection, and tonight her body could jump from affection to full sex with no trouble at all.

“I’m fine. Just needed some fresh air. Shall we go?” Missy forced herself to sound bright and cheerful. She hoped the place would be loud, dark and smoke-filled to dull her senses enough to get through the evening with Tad’s virtue intact.

She wondered if he would appreciate the effort she was making. She had every intention of making love with him, but until she could visit the closest wolf pack and arrange for someone to tell Tad about his heritage she couldn’t act.

Tad held the door open for her, and as she stepped past his arms, she knew she was done for. There was music, quiet and jazzy. The only smoke was from BBQ ribs. And the lighting was perfect to see Tad’s eyes widen as he helped remove her coat.

“Fuck. Oops, sorry, but holy cow, you look good. I don’t think I’ve ever…” Tad swallowed hard, his gaze tracing up the length of her legs to where her skirt ended high above her knees.

Fine. It wouldn’t have met the Catholic Girls School Uniform Requirements but Missy was short and she need help to make her legs look longer. At least that was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

If she’d thought it through more she would have known this evening was going to be a bundle of dynamite waiting to detonate. Then she would have worn her baggy one-piece fleece hoodie that hung past her knees and a sloppy pair of sweat pants.

Liar.

She wouldn’t have. She wanted Tad to drool over her. It made something deep inside very satisfied to see the admiration and the fire in his eyes.

She took a quick glance around. They would be safer sitting at the tall stools in front of the bar itself. Instead, Tad held her elbow and led her back toward a small booth tucked to one side of the bar. It was too late to protest, so she slid onto the soft leather upholstery behind the tiny table, her knees brushing Tad’s as he followed her.

“What are you drinking tonight?” One of the servers stood waiting beside their table. Tad slipped his arm behind Missy, resting it along the back of the seat cushion, caressing her shoulders.

She was going to die. She really was. “Do they have—?”

“Sweetheart, first I’m gonna need to see some proof you’re of legal age,” the waitress interrupted.

Tad chortled as Missy dug into her purse cussing under her breath. She handed over her photo ID and poked Tad in the ribs to get him to stop. It really wasn’t funny anymore.

The waitress handed it back with a wink. “Our bartender can mix you any drink without looking it up. You name a drink he can’t produce and it’s on the house.”

Missy glanced at the ceiling. She shouldn’t do this. Not with needing to keep control over her body around Tad.

“What are you up to?” Tad teased with a squeeze to her shoulder.

Electrical lust shot through her and her mouth went dry. To hell with it. A challenge was a challenge and she could use a stiff drink. She smiled at the waitress.

“I’d like a Skip and Go Naked please.”

Tad choked.

The waitress winked at her. “No problem, sweetheart. Tad, what’ll it be for you tonight?”

“Rum and Coke, please.”

The waitress left and Missy watched as she made her way back to the bar. She put in their orders and the bartender’s head flicked in their direction. He lifted a hand and pointed at her, shaking his finger.

“What’s a Skip and Go Naked, other than something that causes my heart to do double time?” Tad slipped his fingers over hers and Missy’s mind drifted. She was supposed to concentrate on…something. Tad’s beautiful brown eyes stared at her like she was the main dish at an all-you-can-eat dessert bar. Time slowed as she fell into the depths of his gaze. She leaned closer, his mouth inches away. If he’d ease a little more in her direction she be able to—

“You tried to trick me with that one.” The bartender stood in front of them, a pale pink concoction in his hand. Missy made herself smile instead of baring her teeth at the man.

Her hormones were becoming a serious issue tonight.

“You thought if you missed the ‘Hop’ I wouldn’t know it. Hmmm? Well, you’ve got yourself one Skip and Go Naked. I left out the grenadine ’cause I figured that must be the hop.”

Missy forced a laugh as she accepted the glass. “Actually, I’ve never heard of the Hop part. I’m glad you knew how to make one. It’s been a long time. Thank you.”

He kissed her hand and strutted back to his bar, king of all he surveyed. Missy took a short sip of the sweet drink before glancing at Tad. His eyes were dark, his face intense as he glared after the bartender. Missy frowned. “Tad? You okay?”

Tad shook his head like he was in a daze. “Sorry about that. I don’t like how that fellow leers and touches everyone.” He threw back half his drink and stood. “Come on, let’s dance.” He pulled her into his arms and Missy’s vocal cords seized up. Tad folded her into him like a pillow into a slip. Every part of him nestled warm and smooth around her, solid and strong in all the right places. Warmth radiated from his core, and Missy concentrated on breathing in a slow, even rhythm. Hyperventilating on the dance floor. Wonder if anyone ever called the ambulance for that one?

Missy laid her head against Tad’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. She was short enough that even with her high heels, his chin rested on top of her head, his arms reaching down to support her. She draped her hands around him, twining her fingers into the hair at his neckline. Tad hummed with pleasure.

As they swayed together to the bluesy music, Missy wondered if what she felt was possible. An untriggered male and a runaway Omega wolf, there was a strange combination. She closed her eyes and relaxed the tight reins she’d been keeping on herself. Tad dropped his hands and ran them over her back, down her hips, snuggling her tighter against his body, a rock-hard ridge pressing into her belly. The scent of his arousal wafted by on the air and she gasped back a groan. She wanted to taste so badly.

It was too much to continue to resist. Every nerve in her body screamed for him and she lost control. One flavour denied, she took the pleasure she could reach. Missy locked her fingers together, drew his mouth down and suckled his tongue. No gentle introduction, no soft finesse or enticement. Simple and hard desire drove her, his taste not even taking the edge off her need.

She slipped one leg on either side of his, pressed her heated core into his thigh with the thought that some release would be better than none. Tad seemed to read her mind. He feasted on her mouth like a starving man while he danced them into the shadows at the edge of the floor, away from any curious onlookers.

Tad dragged his lips from hers, his dark eyes snapping with need as he cupped her face in his hand. “You’re playing with wildfire. Is this what you want? In public? Because we can go back to your hotel.”

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