Contents

Title Page

The Dungeon

Kastio weighs in

Mailman interrogation

Pound for women

Aiden and Kastio

Chet's attack

Dominick pays a visit

The Prime

Visit to Aiden

The Alpha and his wolf

Memories

Meeting up at the brownstone

In the priestess's office

The seduction

The Brand

The flood

Chamber Tea

Meeting Talise

Trouble on the Freeway

Investigating the warehouse

Aiden to the rescue

Owen cooks, Aiden talks

Gray's betrayal

World of trouble

Demon is summoned

Vengeance

Finale

Lore

vs. The Summoning

Book 1 in the Lore Series

by Anya Breton

CHAPTER ONE

The sea of bodies undulating to the driving bass was a sight to behold as it always was when I braved the Dungeon. One had only to glance at their various states of debauchery to know the human authorities didn't rule here and that was before I'd spotted the blood. I gnawed my tongue within my mouth for fortitude. I couldn't afford to be squeamish. Not here.

An unmistakable electronic guitar riff echoed across the club's smoky interior. My attention snapped to the DJ's booth where a shirtless man in tight black leather pants had jumped atop the dividing wall with a primal shout. He lifted his red tattooed hands to the black roof, shaking them in time to the beat while a glowing seed formed from nothing in the middle of his right palm. The seed unfurled into a flickering bud of fire that lit his skin from within.

"I'm a Firestartah!" He managed to bellow out over the pounding music while he held his prize up for all to see.

I took the brief distraction he posed as a sign to move. Somewhere in this building was a nefarious individual.

No, scratch that.

Everyone in this building was nefarious. But this one was special. This one had hurt someone I love.

Where the hell was this asshole hiding?

With keen eyes I scanned the room for clues. As they swept over the left section my eye was once again snagged by the tattooed guy on the DJ booth. The Fire witch had moved on from juggling fireballs to setting his date's arm aflame while she writhed in pleasure. It took a good deal of effort to mask my disgust. I'd never understand these creatures.

Focus, Laura, I silently chided myself.

An inspection of the wall in front of me proved that the thing I'd been looking for had been in front of my face all along. Directly across from the entrance was a dark space that held none of the club's trademark torture device themed decorations. On either side of the space stood a goon with biceps the size of watermelons crossed in front of an equally inflated chest. These must be the famed Dungeon guards. They looked positively massive and twice as mean.

With a renewed chant for focus I lifted my chin, pushed my shoulders back, and attempted to look as badass as a five foot six inch woman could. The outfit I was sporting might help. My curvy body was covered in a crisscross of black leather strips that managed to form a cat suit.

The ridiculous outfit had been a gift from a particularly lecherous benefactor. That same benefactor had tried to get me into a pair of stiletto heels as well. Tonight I'd settled for a more practical set of platform boots with chunky heels that raised me from five foot six to five foot nine, five foot eleven if I counted the extra volume my sable hair added. Stiletto heels would be an unfortunate fashion accessory when the shit hit the fan. And I planned on that happening very soon.

The press of bodies was tight enough between me and the opposite wall that I had to sidle up to two-dozen people to travel half that in feet. I'd never been particularly comfortable in cramped spaces. The fact that I was wearing a skintight outfit that emphasized every slight brush certainly wasn't helping matters. My frustration grew with each new obstacle until I was reduced to screaming at a stubborn figure that refused to budge.

"Move!" My eyes narrowed to slivers as they traveled up the length of the loftier barrier.

The first thing I saw was the lithe bronzed body that was lovingly poured into a pair of form fitting silver vinyl pants and a matching vest. The next feature that struck me was the warm honey hair that fell to the body's waist in a cascade of shimmering loose curls. Those curls led me to a face that skirted the edge of masculinity with a curious mix of soft lines and hard edges. But it wasn't until I'd reached the eyes, a pair of silver irises set within pure white corneas, that I realized who I was looking at.

A devilish smile curved his pale lips upward. He held my gaze for two-seconds too long before bending his head the inch down to my ear. "Miss Denham," his lyrical baritone voice slid into my ear canal, threatening to draw a shiver across my body.

Had I not recognized him by his eyes, the greeting would have clenched it. No one referred to me as "Miss Denham" but Aiden Bruce. There was a very good reason for that. No one here was supposed to know who I was.

I made an incoherent hissing noise to shut him up. Against my ear I sensed his lips lift even higher.

"I have need to speak with you," he said.

"Kind of busy, Mr. Bruce," I replied in equal parts haste and formality.

"Aiden," he corrected in his too-patient way. "I insist that you call me Aiden." Once he was certain I wasn't going to argue, he added, "And I know what you're doing."

I didn't doubt he knew what I was up to. He was freaky like that. A few years ago I'd have been irate by that kind of line. Aiden had earned the right to use it. He'd saved my ass twice since I'd moved to Boston.

With a petulant sigh I took a half step back to give myself breathing room before I did something I'd regret. It hadn't helped. Even though Aiden wasn't a large man like the behemoths guarding the private area of the club, he held himself with a regal air that gave him the illusion of breadth. There were a half dozen people literally crowding us but all I could see were his hooded silver eyes, soft ghostly grey lips and the bronzed shoulders that extended past his vinyl vest.

"Make this quick," I said in a snappish tone to hide the fact that I was more than a little attracted to him.

"Outside," he said with a nod of his head toward the entrance I'd just waded twelve feet from (with considerable effort, I might add).

"You know my policy on going outside with strange vampires."

"I am neither strange nor subject to your policies," he said with characteristic deadpan.

I couldn't tell if he'd realized my response had been sarcastic and was screwing with me or if he legitimately believed what he was saying. Neither would have surprised me. In the end I shook my head, turned on my chunky heel and then waded toward door.

The trip back the way I'd come was surprisingly easy. I hadn't had to shove anyone, threaten bodily harm or body surf two dozen half-naked people. I suspected it had a lot to do with the vampire at my back.

Aiden was a senator on the vampire Senate. He represented New York, the entire state, not just the city. That meant he was a muckety-muck among the circulation challenged. What little I knew about him was common knowledge in Boston's supernatural community because I hadn't had the guts to ask him anything personal.

What I didn't know was if his position of power meant he killed a whole lot more people than the average undead flunky. If so, we had a serious conflict of ideologies.

I was a Diakonos, a bastard child of the divine who had been "gifted" with supernatural powers in an effort to keep the innocent safe from the scourge of the Underground. Most days it felt like a curse rather than a gift. The jury was still out on today.

The frown that was steadily forming on my lips increased when I began considering why the vampire was so interested in what I did. One would think a senator would have more important things to do than follow a twenty-five year old to an Underground club on a Friday night. He could be off arguing for more blood banks for his constituents or kissing demon babies -- if there were such a thing.

I stopped just outside the seemingly deserted door that served as the Dungeon's facade. A miasma of ill will floated here like an invisible swarm of stinky insects. Were any vanilla human foolish enough to cross to this side of the street they'd be assured a serious nightmare and an extra long session on the therapy couch the next day. And whatever spell was in place to keep the oblivious masses out of the club was also serving to dampen the thumping bass down to a mere buzz of flies.

Aiden stepped around me to walk toward a street lamp to my right. I folded my arms in front of me stubbornly but allowed myself the pleasure of watching his well-formed back end as it moved. Only after he'd disappeared into an alley a half a block away, and his ass disappeared with him, did I go after him with the sick hope that he'd be waiting to take me in his cool arms for some serious face sucking.

There was definite sexual tension between us. I hadn't wanted to admit it to myself for a long time. And it hadn't been because I'd been strictly warned away from the vampire. A good part of it as Aiden himself. From what I could tell he was arrogant and high-handed, one of those old-world guys (literally) that thought women should be barefoot and pregnant rather than fighting the good fight. Apparently I had a soft spot for that kind of asshole.

Which was why it came as a surprise when the first thing out of the sexist pig's mouth after I'd walked into the alley was: "We need your help."

I let my eyebrows drift upward but didn't dare ruin the moment with speech. Aiden was waiting for me to say something, probably expected I'd jump at the chance to assist him. At least that is what I hoped the firm gaze fixed on my face meant.

"We believe someone is trying to summon a demon," Aiden explained moments later.

Maybe there were demon babies.

"A good number of packages have arrived here that we've reason to believe contain rare desert shale from the Cradle of Civilization. It is a rare shale that is used in the ritual summoning of a specific demonic entity my associates and I would rather remain in the Realm of the Fallen."

The question I'd left unasked was why didn't he and his associates just take care of it themselves?

Aiden answered it without my prompting. "We have reason to believe a key member of the Covens is behind this. We can't risk our fragile accord by personally getting involved."

The Covens. That was a group I tried to avoid at all costs. The idea of going up against humans with magical power didn't particularly appeal to me. Giant slobbering monsters with brains the size of walnuts were more my genre, or at least it had been until I moved to Boston.

I asked my first question in a wary voice, "What do you mean when you say 'we'?"

"The undead community," Aiden said simply.

That wasn't good enough for me. I pressed with, "We talking Boston?"

He nodded his head, an action that made his honey hair ripple around his shoulders, shoulders that were somewhere between broad and narrow -- actually, they were just about perfect. I did my best to ignore it and the delicious scent of something sweet that hit my nose a moment later from his movement. He was just a little too...I didn't even want to think about it.

These unwelcome reactions put me on the defensive, which for me translated into becoming confrontational. In a wary tone I asked, "So you work for Boston?"

"Boston" in this context referred to the collective rulers of the city's vampires. There were always three. In Boston's case those three were two males and a female. I'd been laboring to stay under their radar since I'd arrived.

I'd had to ask Aiden the question because it seemed odd that the vampire senator for the state of New York would be taking orders from rulers of a single city, even if that city were the undead equivalent of Washington, D.C.

Aiden's silver irises slid to the side almost guiltily. It was such a human response that I instantly suspected foul play. But a vampire wouldn't do something that obvious unintentionally, would he?

"It was suggested that we contract the work out," Aiden explained. "We naturally thought of you."

This time there was no drifting to my eyebrows. They'd shot up along with the height of my eyes. "Oh?"

"I volunteered to make the proposition." Aiden's gaze returned to my face while he spoke the final word.

I was trying my damnedest not to hear that as an innuendo. There was no way I could reply to it without sounding stupid. I decided silence was the best response.

"We'll pay you to look into this matter for us," he said loftily.

"Look into it?" I drawled. "That's it? Just look?"

Aiden's bare shoulders lifted in a gallic shrug. "Should you deem the activities worthy of taking action we wouldn't be opposed."

"But I'm not required to?"

"Oh, I believe you'll want to, Miss Denham."

I hated that voice. It was the smooth as butter, seductively low tone he wielded like a weapon to get what he wanted. In the beginning it had worked on me. I was building immunity. Thank the gods.

Focus on the facts, the helpful little voice in my head whispered. I attempted to do just that. "A demon, you said?"

Aiden inclined his head in a sort of formal bow. "Yes."

He was being incredibly vague and I was beginning to lose my patience. Hitching my right hip out, I settled my weight onto it impatiently. "And why do you think this?"

"I'll outline our reasons when you have agreed to our request."

My shoulders lifted with a disgusted laugh. He was so sure that I'd help. I wanted to refuse based solely on that. But that was petty and I was above that sort of behavior. Most of the time.

More importantly if someone were trying to bring something into the world that the vampires were afraid of, then I needed to do everything in my power to stop it. There wasn't much on my evil scale higher than the undead.

Aiden coaxed with another toss of his hair and a soft question. "Perhaps you'd like to know how much we are prepared to pay?"

"I'm not really in this for the money," I replied with my snarkiest of tones.

But it was the truth. Aside from the building I'd inherited when I'd killed one of the biggest baddest motherfuckers in the city a few years ago and the silly leather cat suit currently wrapped around my skin, I didn't pull much in the way of salary from my nocturnal activities.

Aiden leaned toward me just enough that I'd noticed it but not enough to cry foul. His voice dipped lower, "If money isn't suitable incentive then what can I do to entice you?"

I about swooned at the definite innuendo spoken in that golden voice. Aiden was seriously hot no matter what glamour he chose to show me. The hair and face seemed to be ever changing. I wasn't sure blonde was the way to go and I'd never have suggested the curls (though they were actually quite becoming). Tonight he'd gone with a gently rounded chin as opposed to the square-jawed visages he'd sported the last few times I'd seen him.

I was beginning to think these changes to his glamour were in an effort to find the look I most approved of. The problem with that was I didn't need to approve of his look. There was something about him that transcended his appearance and even his unchanging eyes. Be it his voice, his mannerisms or his personality, Aiden could have appeared to me as Quasimodo and I'd probably still swoon.

Maybe I'd taken too long to reply or perhaps he'd simply been waiting for the opportunity to go off topic, but Aiden's silver eyes raked up the length of me with an appreciative smirk. "That seems a bit risqué for you, Miss Denham."

My teeth clenched behind my lips. I relaxed them enough to speak. "I'm not Miss Denham at the moment so kindly stop calling me that."

"And the hair." The smirk quickly drew into grin territory.

My hand went up to touch the sixties go-go dancer partial bouffant hair style I'd gone with tonight for my long sable locks. "Hardly recognized me, did ya?"

"I always recognize you," he replied in that sensual, buttery voice.

I couldn't decide if I should be weak-kneed or fighting the cold shivers. With Aiden it was a toss up. Did he want to kiss me or bite off my lips?

Not to be rude, I allowed my gaze to sweep up the length of him once more to return the favor. "That seems a bit...tight for you, Mr. Bruce."

"Aiden," he corrected me patiently. "It's quite comfortable. The fabric is designed to look snug but," and his hand went to the nonexistent waistband of his low-riding pants to gently lift it outward.

My eyes automatically shot away to keep from catching a peek at his dangly bits.

"Is actually roomy," he finished with an amused voice. "You make it far too easy."

I looked back at his face in an effort to figure out what the hell he was talking about. There had been no change from the mischievous smile he'd given me just before he'd flashed me. I got the feeling that he was just waiting for me to question him.

So I gave in, dully asking, "What?"

Without missing a beat the vampire replied, "You behave like a maid. I can always get a flush out of you."

"Lovely," I muttered. Focus, the little voice in my head snapped. "So about this desert shale thing. I'll look..."

Aiden chuckled at my expense.

"...into it. You guys can pay me if you want. But I make no promises on stopping this thing. I'm only one girl."

He had the smug smile etched into the bottom half of his face that told me he already knew I'd do everything I could. I realized that no matter how square, rounded or puckered his chin was, or how soft, lush or wide his lips were, Aiden managed to have the same expressions. That was when I knew it was time to go.

"Miss Denham," he called after me when I'd swiveled around to flee.

I turned just enough to see him.

In a sober voice he said, "I'd suggest postponing your vengeance trip until after you've heard what I have to say. Our goals may be more aligned than you realize."

Vengeance trip. Damn, I was slipping. I'd been about to run home just to be away from him. I'd nearly forgotten all about my wish to splatter the primordial ooze of a certain someone...I'd yet to actually identify. Maybe Aiden's freaky knowledge of my activities would come in handy.

I took a deep breath, turned fully and hoped I could keep my raging libido down long enough to listen to what he had to say.

CHAPTER TWO

"You should not have entered into any agreement with a vampire."

The new voice in the room forced my eyes away from the pages of the latest escapist novel I'd grabbed off the shelves of my second favorite Barnes and Noble. There was a tall, broad shouldered, dangerously handsome man standing in the hallway outside my bedroom. From where I sat I could see the slate of his eyes fixed on me beneath the fringe of his thick lashes. Carefully styled short kohl black hair glistened midnight blue as if there were a light source above him. There were none.

He lifted his arms to cross them over the impressive chest covered by a tailored black silk suit. The costly fabric was complimented by an iridescent light blue tie. The outfit made him look like a high-class Mafioso assassin. I might have been frightened if I hadn't seen this very sight nearly every week for nine years.

My eyes did a double take on the tie. Blue. Blue meant he was pissed off. Crap, I'd been hoping for a mauve or green day.

I returned my attention to the book. "I'm just going to be stopping this demon summoning thing anyway, Kastio."

"I am aware of this. As such there was no need to enter into an agreement," he insisted in his midrange of tones. He had exactly three: deep, deeper and deepest.

"It was a verbal agreement," I pointed out. "No money was exchanged and I didn't sign on any dotted line."

"Nevertheless, an agreement you have made."

I waved a dismissive hand in his general direction. "Look, I know you have some issue with Aiden but it wasn't like we sucked face or anything."

His voice lowered into his deepest range, "You were thinking it."

My head popped up to glare at him. "Damn it, Kastio! I hate, hate, haaaaate that!"

The bastard could read my mind anytime he wasn't with me. It sucked. Seriously.

He would say it was a requirement of being my guide. He'd add that I was blessed that my biological father, the Greek god Apollo, cared for me enough to assign a divine creature to help me. From where I sat, Kastio was almost as much of a curse as my supernatural power was.

He'd been a piss poor mentor. He stalked me, eavesdropped on everything -- and I mean everything -- meddled, mocked, and pestered. Once in a while he'd impart useful information but on the whole he was no better than a walking fortune cookie.

"I must once again warn you," he said grimly, "if you so much as think of taking up with the vampire. He will be killed."

"I remember," I snapped impatiently. I slapped the book into my lap grumpily. The space above my nose crinkled as I felt my expression sour. "So did you just drop by to force your usual morose self on me or do you have actual useful information?"

"Force myself on you?" He repeated with a lift of his glossy kohl eyebrows. "Perhaps you misunderstand the meaning of that phrase."

My face warmed a bright red hue. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant..."

"Did I come by to pester you with my moody square-jawed face that is incapable of forming a smile?" He parroted back a few of my own thoughts to me.

"Uh, yeah," I replied in a slow, uneasy voice. I was uncomfortable with that on too many levels.

"No," Kastio said flatly. "I came to suggest you look into this matter more in depth before embarking on it. The vampire is holding something back. There is more than a demon summoning at work here."

Aiden hadn't told me much. There were brown paper packages in the same exact size and shape (square, one by one foot boxes) being delivered to the Dungeon through the regular postal mail. They'd intercepted one. It had a rock in it, the rare desert shale.

Apparently summoning rituals for powerful entities had to be completed by someone with magical ability. The more power available to the individual, the greater the entity summoned. Hence why the vampires believed it was a key figure in the Covens. That was really all they had. It was pathetic at best.

"Hints would be nice," I said. "I'm on a deadline here."

Kastio's figure didn't move but I got the feeling he'd be shaking his head if he did that sort of thing. "You know that I cannot..."

I made a dismissive gesture, "I know, 'screw with Fate'."

My guide looked mildly affronted with a slight lift of his broad chest. "I would not have worded it quite so crassly."

"No, you'd have used ten words to do what I said in three."

Kastio's moody square-jawed face got moodier. He lowered his head into a kind of bow that meant I had exactly two-seconds before he'd disappear. "Hera keep you safe," my guide spoke his standard parting greeting. All that remained after was a Kastio-shaped cloud of mist. It hovered for a half a heartbeat before the tiny particles expanded out into the air around me.

Now that he was gone I knew he could dip into my brain. So I did the only thing I could think of: I picked the book back up and delved into a steamy sex scene between the protagonist and her hot adventurer rescuer. Maybe my guide would be disgusted enough that he'd go pester someone else and ignore me for a while. Only then would I actually be able to sleep.

There was a man at the bar wearing a brown and green flannel shirt. His messy walnut hair had sun-kissed highlights that could have been natural but I suspected they were salon bought. From across the room I could only tell that his eyes were dark, probably brown, and that they were currently fixed on the gorgeous brunette sidled up to the stool next to him.

Lovely. I'd called a meeting with this guy and he was chatting up some other chick. That would serve me right for going through proper channels for once. But I could be magnanimous. I'd give him a few minutes to close the deal with her before I rained on his parade.

I was in a surprisingly mellow mood given the crappy night of sleep I'd had and the fact that I'd gone a full day without much headway on this demon summoning thing. (It was a "thing" because I didn't want to call it an "investigation". That seemed like admitting what I did in the Underground was a job.) The only information I'd gathered was that the mailman who had been delivering the packages to the Dungeon was one of us, a member of the Underground factions. He was a werewolf. And the guy at the bar was his Alpha.

Ordinarily I wouldn't have bothered with permission but I fully intended on being brutal with the state's employee. That kind of information was going to get back to the Alpha. This meeting was a bit of C.Y.A. so that the big guy didn't go savage on me during the next full moon cycle.

I rested against the front wall halfway between the entrance and the live music, a spot that would allow me to observe the Alpha. Like Aiden Bruce, this guy wasn't actually big but he projected a large image. The men in the bar steered clear of that side of the polished cherry surface while the women were curiously drawn to it. I watched him toss back a shot of whisky, set the glass down and charm the model-thin woman with a mischievous grin of his wolfish teeth.

Wolfish. I had a silent chuckle. Sometimes I thought I needed to get out more.

Waif, the Alpha's model companion, leaned in to speak into his ear. Her breast was touching his left forearm. I was certain he noticed it. Guys like him had radar for where the nipple was at all times.

"What can I get you?"

My attention snapped to the waitress in front of me. She stepped out of the way of someone heading to the bathroom and into my line of sight. She was cute but blocking my view. I supposed I was rather obvious target, standing there without a drink in my hand.

"Strongbow," I answered her and handed over a wrinkled ten-dollar bill before she could take off.

With my line of sight clear again I noted that the Alpha was discreetly looking down Waif's shirt while she related some tidbit of information to him with wildly gesturing arms. And then before she'd finished, he spotted someone he liked behind her. For the three minutes it took the waitress to bring me my hard cider I watched the Alpha split his attention between the two women. Maybe he didn't need time to seal the deal with the brunette after all.

I handed the waitress a few ones for her trouble, deliberately set the drink down where someone would pick it up and then slowly made my way through the collection of people gathered to watch the softly crooning Indie band. A seat at the other end of the horseshoe shaped bar conveniently opened up as I approached. The Alpha's eyes swiveled across the bar to me as soon as I'd sat my jean-covered rear end down. I made eye contact and held it for a second longer than was polite. By then the man with the booze was waiting on my order.

The bartender, a man far too old for this dump, leaned close enough for me to order another, "Strongbow."

Waif was pouting when I glanced back over at my quarry. The Alpha said something in her ear that brightened her disposition. Then he stood to walk in my direction.

"Four dollars," the bartender mouthed at me while lifting as many fingers.

Before I could get my fingers into the pocket of my jeans a big hand pushed beside me to hand him a crispy five-dollar bill. "Keep the change," a rumbling voice spoke.

I didn't need to look back to know it was the Alpha. Low-level power poured off him, brushing against my skin. This was definitely no vanilla human.

The bartender nodded his head in thanks. I could almost see the internal monologue in the old guy's head saying: "ooh, big spender".

"Aren't you gonna thank me?" The rumbling voice said in amusement from far too near.

I nudged the drink aside. "I don't accept drinks from strange men."

"You haven't looked to see if I'm strange or not," he pointed out in an unreadable tone.

"You're the guy that was just over there chatting up the waif-like model." It probably wasn't a good idea to start our meeting on a snarky note but I couldn't seem to help myself. There was something about this guy that just...irked me.

His rumbling voice smoothed out a little, "Jealous?"

It was a good sound. I knew it would be a heady experience to hear it murmuring naughty things in my ear. I bet he knew just what to say too. But conceited guys irritated me. Maybe I could bring him down a peg or two.

"I like my women with a little more meat on them," I countered.

"Mmm," he purred in my ear. No doubt he was conjuring up all manner of imagery in that messy-haired head of his.

He reached forward to take my hard cider. I heard him gulp the entire thing down as quickly as his throat could work. It was just as well, he'd paid for it and I needed to be sober for what would be happening later.

The Alpha pressed his lower half against my back when he reached forward to set the empty glass atop the bar. It had been intentional. He wanted me to feel that he was well endowed. I was thanking the gods that I had been facing away so he didn't see the red creeping into my cheeks.

"So you're not into guys?"

I didn't say anything in answer partially because as a werewolf he'd be able to sense a lie and because I was desperately trying not to picture him naked.

"What about threesomes? We could prowl together. It'd be hot."

Just then I was thinking how fitting it was that he'd been infected with the werewolf virus because he was most certainly a dog. Only one other thing would have been better: the wereboar virus. My lips quirked at the thought of him turning into a giant pig during the full moon cycle.

"You always this stuffy? Or just when you're out on business?"

His odd question made me turn enough to look at him. At that proximity I could see that his eyes were mahogany with flecks of green. They dropped down to my lips.

"Business?" I asked, moving the lips he'd fixated on while trying not to notice how ruggedly handsome he was. That plaid flannel was absolutely perfect on him.

"You're Laura, right?"

My eyebrows lifted a smidgeon. He'd known whom I was when he'd walked over. I hadn't given him a description of myself or told him what I'd be wearing like he had. How the hell had he known?

"Yeah," I said with a twist of my mouth.

"You enjoy the show?"

I glanced over at the band then realized he wasn't talking about that. "I was giving you time to score a phone number if you wanted it."

His lips spread for a wolfish grin. "That bag of skin and bones wouldn't have been able to handle me." But he eyed me up and down as if he were contemplating if I could.

The discomfort of his obvious leering made me snappish. "We doing this here or what?"

"Here or we could go back to my place," he positively purred.

My response was a disgusted, "Yeah, no. Here is fine."

He fixed the couple next to me with a dark eye until they grew flustered enough to give up their seats. Their departure cleared that corner of the bar for us. I wasn't going to complain because I didn't have any interest in going someplace private with this guy.

"Thank you for meeting me on short notice." I attempted a little courtesy. Then I got straight down to business. "I need to talk to one of yours and I need truth out of him."

The Alpha immediately replied. "I can't force truth out of mine."

That was a lie but I wasn't going to call him on it. "I'm not asking you to. I'm merely asking for the right to question him."

His mahogany eyes darkened a little as his pupils dilated, "With force."

"If need be," I admitted.

"What kind of questionin'? What does this pertain to?" He didn't seem like the kind of guy that used words like "pertain" often. Or maybe he'd been playing a role for the women in the bar.

In my best matter-of-fact tone I replied, "Someone is trying to do something bad. I'm trying to stop them. One of yours may have information I need to do that."

"What exactly are you, Laura?"

I didn't like that he felt free to use my given name when I didn't have any of his. The only thing I knew about him was that he was the Alpha of the Greater Boston lupus pack and that his email address was bostonalphawolf@gmail.com. It was only fair that I keep a few things from him as well.

Instead of answering I said, "Why does it matter?"

"Are you capable of stoppin' somethin' bad?"

"Yes," I replied without blinking.

He eyed me again and this time it wasn't with lust in his eyes. His skeptical up and down scan told me he was trying to reconcile my relatively benign look with the truth of my words. I definitely didn't come off as a woman who could hold her own amongst werewolves. But if he were intelligent he'd know that looks are deceiving.

"Are you a witch?" He asked, still hung up on what kind of creature I was.

He wasn't getting that out of me. Defensiveness had me reacting in my typically confrontational manner. "I need to talk to your wolf. Are you going to give me the okay?"

"You contacted me because you're plannin' on doin' somethin' that'll piss me off," he correctly deducted. "I'm not givin' my blessin' until I know what I'm agreein' to."

"I can't tell you more or I risk information falling into the wrong hands." With a palm held out toward him I added, "Hell, for all I know you could be in on it."

"In on what?"

I pressed my eyes shut with a sigh. I liked him better when he was behaving like an unscrupulous dog. When I opened them again I saw that his formerly frisky expression was long gone.

The Alpha's lips thinned grimly. "You understand that when mine pledge to me, I vow to keep them safe from people like you. You gotta give me somethin' to go on."

"No, actually, I don't."

His gaze darkened until the pupils threatened to drown out the rest of the iris. "Then no, I'm not givin' the okay for you to talk to one of mine. And if somethin' happens to any of them, I know who to look to."

My response was a brisk nod. I swiveled on the stool, dropped to my feet and then glanced back at him. "I'd say that it was nice meeting you, but it would be a lie." Especially since I hadn't actually met him.

CHAPTER THREE

The shot ricocheted off the stone wall close enough to the state's employee's ear that he'd probably have a nice red welt in the morning.

"You're fuckin' crazy!" He shouted the six stories up to where I stood peering over the edge of the roof.

"Sweet talk like that isn't gonna save you," I called down with a sugary voice wielded like a whip of sarcasm. "Now tell me what I want to know!"

"What the fuck is this? Your own personal prison? You serial killer fuck!"

He thought he was being clever, distracting me with insults while he looked for an exit from the trap I'd maneuvered him into. But I was good enough at what I did to take the bait while still keeping an eye on him. "If I were a serial killer I'd probably use something more personal than a gun. No, this is about information."

"I don't know nothin'." My quarry insisted while furtively scanning the courtyard for signs of weakness.

There were none because someone a whole lot more devious than me had created the death trap. Nonetheless his bushy head turned ever so slightly from right to left as he passed his keen, supernaturally enhanced eyes over every bit of rock in the courtyard. I knew even with the help of the sole tree he couldn't get up to the roof. And by the way his head lifted I suspected he was mentally judging the distance anyway.

"Talk like that is going to get you hurt," I informed him in what I hoped came off as an "eerily calm" tone.

"You gonna kill me?" Yup, it had definitely come off as that because I could hear the beginnings of actual fear in his voice. "I don't know nothin'! I'm just a mailman!"

"A werewolf mailman who is holding out on someone who can kill you in the most painful way imaginable with little effort." I didn't know if tit were the most painful way but I knew it wasn't exactly false.

"What?" He said with a nervous laugh of desperation, clearly hearing at least some truth to my words. I had his attention now that I'd mentioned his supernatural affliction. "Nah, I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you not only would, but you are," I drawled. "Now tell me what I want to know, or so help me gods, I'm going to stop intentionally missing." I made a dramatic show of sighting down the sleek Kahr handgun I was holding in my right hand.

He was going to make a move soon. It had been a series of minuscule movements masked as nervous fidgeting. But I'd seen it. He'd positioned himself so that he could launch onto the middle bough of the sole tree within the courtyard.

The fact that he wasn't simply giving me answers made me reconsider how I was going to handle this. I'd thought him a hostile witness that just needed a little push. This was more than that. This mailman had something to hide. There was something bigger and badder out there than me and that something had its claws in him. I was probably going to have to get more brutal than I was comfortable with getting.

"You know, if you get out of here alive, whoever you're protecting is going to assume you squealed. You're as good as dead out there," I pointed out with the gun still trained on his right thigh.

There was a tiny easing of his pose. He was listening to me. That was a good sign.

He called up, "You offerin' your protection?"

My eyebrows lifted because I hadn't thought this far ahead. "I didn't say that." Protecting humanity at large was kind of my thing but keeping just one person alive, I wasn't so good at.

"So either I die out there," he gestured over the roof and then pointed to the ground, "Or I die in here."

His legs bunched. He was going to jump. I braced myself for it.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I choose out there." The moment the final word left his lips he launched upward.

I did nothing. I could have shot his leg like I'd intended to do. I'd had enough time to line it up so that factoring in speed, velocity and all that mumbo jumbo I'd hit his ankle. Something in me told me not to. I listened to that something because it rarely led me astray.

He'd gotten to the middle bough on the tree with ease but from there he'd have problems. The walls were sheer stone extending fifty more feet up from where he was. Curiously the courtyard lacked even gutters, bad for the roof but superb for interrogating members of the Underground. I calmly watched while he sprung upwards in a feat of incredible athleticism only a member of the factions could boast.

It wasn't incredible enough to get him out of the trap. He landed against the wall three feet too low, scrambled to get a hold of something, anything and then hurdled to the gravel below after his fingers had merely slid along the smooth stone. The seventy-foot drop hadn't killed him. Probably.

I peered over the edge of the roof to see how he'd landed. A tibia through the chest would cut his chances of survival a bit even with the supernaturally fast healing. It didn't look like anything quite that detrimental had resulted from his attempt at escape. He was face down, sprawled spread eagle as if he'd performed a belly flop onto the granite chips. That couldn't have felt good.

"Mailman," I called down. "You alive?"

His answering moan was promising.

"You know I can't let you leave without the information I need."

There was no response for a full minute. I'd begun to think maybe he'd taken a turn for the worse before he rolled himself enough to peer up in my general direction. It was too dark for me to make out what shape his face was in without the moon's help. His hair was blocking that.

"I don't have any information," he said in a pained voice.

I ignored his boldfaced lie. "Tell me about the packages you're dropping off at the club."

He coughed. It wasn't a pained or ill cough. That was the kind of sound a guy made right before he lied. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Yes. You do." It was my don't-fuck-with-me tone. "The packages you're dropping off at the club, who are they for? Where are they from? When do they arrive?"

"What club?"

I sighted down the gun to a granite chip a foot and a half to his left and squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck it on the right side, kicking it into his face a centimeter below where I thought his eye would be. He howled in pain. It wasn't a human noise but thankfully this part of the city was deserted at night.

"Tell me about the packages," I repeated.

"I'm not tellin' you shit," he snarled.

These are the ones I disliked most, the informants who weren't cowed enough by my inherited brownstone's interrogation trap to spill the beans with a simple request. I switched back into my sarcastically sweet voice. "Dyin' ain't the worst thing that can happen to you. I can take you to the brink of death only to bring you back again, rinse and repeat. Tell me what I want to know."

"You have nothin'!"

He meant I wasn't scary enough. Well, if he wanted to play that game...

"No?" I shot him. Sure, it was in the right thigh, not a killing wound, but he did scream an impressive set of echoing shouts within his stone cage. "Where are the packages from, Mailman?"

"From the good ol' U.S.P.S.," he called back in a strained voice.

So I shot him in the other thigh.

He let out a manly groan between gnashed teeth. "Fuck!"

"I'm getting impatient, Mailman."

"I'm losing blood," he shot back.

"Yup," I said flippantly emphasizing the "p" with a breathy puff. "Where are the packages from, Mailman?"

"I'm not..."

I shot him in both arms, one after the other as quickly as my ordinary hands would move.

He shrieked like a girl. "Fuck! Fuck! I don't know where they're from! They're covered in brown paper with no return labels!"

Finally.

Taking advantage of his currently cowed mood, I shouted down a new question. "When do they arrive?"

"It's not the same day. Some weeks it's a Monday, others it's Thursday. It changes every week. Fuck! I'm seriously bleeding to death! I can't die!"

Of course he couldn't. Few ever wanted to and the ones that did, I didn't bother sticking in the courtyard. "Who are they for?"

"I don't know."

I sighted down the gun at his left shoulder, the one lifted toward me, and made damn sure he saw me do it.

"I just leave them there!" He shouted desperately. "They take care of delivering it!"

"That may be the case, but you know who they end up with ultimately. Who is it mailman?"

"I don't..."

I shot his shoulder.

"Agghhhh! Fuck!"

He was starting to look a bit hairier than usual. That probably wasn't good. My fingers tightened on the gun's grip.

"I wouldn't Change if I were you, Mailman," I called down while exchanging cartridges. "You wouldn't want me to switch to silver bullets now would you?"

"I'm going to kill you!" He barked in a guttural voice.

My eyes rolled to the Domain. "Oh, I haven't heard that one before." I spent a moment aiming at his right shoulder, the one on which he'd propped himself. I didn't actually need to aim. I was merely making sure he knew I'd shoot him again if he didn't start singing a different song.

A tinny rendition of "So What'cha Want" rang out from my pocket. I kept my eyes trained on the mailman while fishing my phone out of my pocket.

The digital screen had a picture of the devil with the name "Jonas Levi" displayed beneath it in bold white text. Crap. It was my boss. I had to take this.

"Scream and I shoot you in the larynx, got it?" I mimed answering the call to fake him out. "Hello?"

The mailman, of course, screamed. And earned himself a shot right through the larynx. I heaved a heavy sigh while listening to his gurgling noises then answered the phone for real.

"Hello?" I was halfway to the rooftop door when the voice on the other end spoke.

"Laura?" The thickly accented voice of my boss, the music director with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, hesitantly greeted me by name. He continued once he was sure it was me. "This is Jonas Levi. I'm sorry to call this late but we've had to reschedule the rehearsal for the Chamber Tea at the last minute. It won't be tomorrow afternoon as planned but instead will meet Wednesday. Can you make it?"

Jonas was being polite but his hard-edged tone meant I had no choice. Either I showed up to rehearsal Wednesday, with my shiny flute in hand, cheerfully ready to play my heart out, or I'd be replaced in the Chamber Tea by one of my bloodthirsty rivals. I wasn't about to let a rival take my spot.

"Yeah, I can make it," I told him as I bounced down the third flight of stairs toward the courtyard.

"We'll see you then." He hung up without waiting for me to say something in response.

My phone went back into my pocket so that I could switch the clip out on my gun with a fresh one. In front of me was a rather ordinary looking wooden door with a brass handle and matching deadbolt. It looked and sounded standard. In reality there was a complex locking system behind it set into a vault-like door. It was as high-tech as my laptop and had probably cost the previous owner far more.

The door swung open emitting me into an antechamber decorated like a small atrium with a coat closet. Behind me the lock clicked quietly. Without the special code, no one, even me, was getting out of this space. I swiped my hand over the control panel to the exterior door, the one that would let me into the courtyard itself. The interior door, a glued façade of wood on stone, slid a foot and a half to the right for one point five seconds. I had just enough time to get outside before the thing closed on me. Now the only way to get back inside was a call from my phone to the security panel's special number.

My senses tingled. The breeze floating across the nearby dried branches stilled. A distant siren silenced in mid wail. Apollo's Warning, a gift from my father, had kicked in. I would be sensing what was about to happen to me unless I moved to stop it.

I whirled around on my heel to find the hairy, bloody figure of a man caught midway through the transformation to wolf. His hands were already deadly claws that were extended toward my neck. And they were frozen in place thanks to my gift. There was just enough time to hop three steps to the left out of the way before the scene resumed its normal flow.

The werewolf's hands slashed in an "X" shape where my body had been. He gave an outraged howl when he realized he'd missed me. My warning system reengaged as he pounced toward me, this time nearly in his finished wolf form. While time was seemingly frozen I sprinted across the courtyard so I'd have a second to talk to him before he'd close to attack.

"You're bleeding out too fast for werewolf healing to fix," I rushed to call out as soon as time had resumed its ordinary pace. "You're going to die unless I help you. You can..." I had to pause while another warning gave me a chance to duck his vault for my head across the granite chips. "...attack me, maybe temporarily slowing me, or you can stand down and let me Heal you."

My reasonable suggestion was blatantly ignored while we played cat and mouse for several minutes. The mailman dripped his life fluid all over the granite chips at an alarming rate. Finally he tripped, landed face first in the rocks and couldn't seem to get up. I took the opportunity to hop on his furry back in hopes that he was too weak to throw me off. He bucked twice. The movement did little more than move me a few inches upward.

I pushed my hand through the wiry fur on his neck to get closer to his skin. I needed skin-to-skin contact before I could hear the medical reports whispering in my head. I already knew the mailman had been shot six times. And as I suspected he had a few broken, bruised or fractured bones from the fall he'd taken.

My palm lit up with a warm golden glow as my Healing energy snaked through his prone body. I focused on the neck wound first then rolled him over so the bullets had room to exit. As a precaution I shoved the barrel of my gun in between his weary brown eyes before I began Healing the rest of him.

Once I was satisfied that I'd fixed the damage I was personally responsible for I stepped back from him with my gun still aimed at him. He made a soft snuffling noise. That was probably better news than a growl.

My trigger finger went on alert when the wolf pulled himself onto his haunches. In confusion I watched him maneuver himself until his back was to me. Then I saw why he'd done it. The dark coating of fur slowly began to bleed away to human skin to the tune of disgusting pops and slurps that couldn't have felt good.

It took him five full minutes to complete the Change back to his human form. I'd expected him to say something once he'd finished. It was the only reason he'd have needed to transform back. But the mailman said nothing.

I stood watching him warily for any sign of movement for a minute, fully expecting Apollo's Warning to kick in for a renewed attack. The only movement I saw was a curious shaking of his back. It took me longer still to realize what it was. He was crying.

Now it was important to understand that I'd not had the best track record with men in my twenty-five years. But I did know they tended not to like people witnessing their breakdowns. So I was left with the unsettling task of figuring out what the hell to do with a crying werewolf that wouldn't snitch. Did I stand there hoping he'd explain why he was crying? Or threaten him some more?

I made the mistake of adjusting my weight onto one hip. My clothes must have made a rustling noise because his profile turned enough for him to see me out of the very corner of his eye.

"Why couldn't you have just left me alone?" He snarled.

"You're the dealer, mailman," I said calmly. "I need you to get to the kingpin."

"The kingpin is going to kill her because of you, you selfish bitch." And then he broke down into sobs.

Oh gods. I couldn't handle sobbing men. I went all kinds of weird when faced with a blubbering guy. It had been responsible for one or two of the worst decisions in life.

Carefully I questioned him, "Who is going to kill who?"

"Chet is going to kill my sister."

"Chet?" I hated the name Chet. I'd gone to school with a Chet and he'd been a complete asshole.

The blubbering went on for a little bit longer but ended with, "As soon as he makes sure I'm dead, he'll kill her."

"Is Chet the guy receiving all of these packages?"

He shot to his feet the turn on me with rage filled eyes. "Fuck you!"

My eyebrows lifted at him but it was the only response he'd gotten out of me.

"All you care about is the fuckin' useless packages!" The mailman roared, "My sister is gonna die!"

I wasn't impressed by the savagery of his shouts. "Look, brainchild, if you'd told me the dude taking the packages would kill your sister if he found out you'd squealed, this would have been an entirely different kind of conversation!"

"Like you'd do anything," he snapped back.

That's when I remembered something. I'd picked the mailman up at a bar not far from here. "Wait a second. What the hell were you doing trolling a bar for women if your sister is being held prisoner?"

I saw a flicker of something pass through his eyes that he quickly hid behind a lame attempt at swagger. "A man's got needs..."

The gun was aimed at his forehead now. "Wrong answer."

He went pale, eyes shooting wide.

In a low voice I said, "Even I can't heal a gunshot to the brain. Spill it."

The mailman's head shook wildly. "No way! You'll kill me!"

My right eyebrow cocked at him. "Not too bright, are you?"

"Oh," he said dully when he realized I'd already threatened to kill him if he didn't answer me. With a petulant sigh he lowered himself into a kneeling position on the ground. His chin lifted until he could see my face again. "He sends me out to pick up chicks, drug them and then bring them back to his place."

"Chet does?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"I need a straight answer from you, mailman. Is Chet the one who is getting the packages?"

"Yeah."

My shoulders relaxed just a smidgen. "Is Chet a witch?"

"No."

"Damn it," I exclaimed without realizing it.

"What?" The mailman wiped the moisture from his cheeks and watched me through widened eyes.

"Does Chet work for someone else?"

"I don't know," he answered and I believed him. "He's the one that has been threatening me and giving me orders."

"What is Chet then?"

"Besides an asshole? I think he's some kind of shapeshifter. I don't really know."

"It's never occurred to you to, I don't know, kick the shit out of him?"

I knew that the big difference between the Were and pure shapeshifters was that Were were infected humans. Shapeshifters were born. Oh and they had longevity like vampires. But in terms of a fight, I'd always thought the two factions were pretty well matched. Then again, I'd never actually asked them who was more powerful. I could easily be wrong.

"He's never alone," he replied in a higher-pitched voice. "He's always surrounded by Rhinos. And I haven't been Were that long."

"Rhinos," I muttered under my breath.

Rhinos were universally thought of as bad news. I wasn't sure I'd actually seen one in person. Supposedly they had the body of professional wrestlers on steroids from hell and the head of a rhinoceros to top it off. I imagined it was quite a disgusting sight.

Holstering my gun I grabbed hold of the guy's arm. "Here's the deal, Mailman. I need to see Chet. You're going to take me to him."

"I can't do that. They'll kill you, then he'll kill me and my sister," the mailman replied with a quick shake of his head.

"Which is why you're going to take me in as a girl you picked up from the bar."

CHAPTER FOUR

I woke up in a cage, an honest to gods cage. It was a three-foot by three-foot metal prison with smooth walls and a metal barred door. I couldn't see others around me but I heard their soft whimpers and light feminine breath.

This was a dog pound for women!

My head was fuzzy, an unfortunate byproduct of letting the mailman, Michael, drug me. He'd insisted that they checked for that sort of thing. So I'd stupidly let him slip something in my drink. But it had worked. I was on the inside.

Besides being fuzzy, there was something else wrong with my head. Stirring a little brought a definite throbbing at the back of my head. I reached a finger back to lightly press near the pained area. It passed over a knob as big as my fist.

The bastard mailman had hit me over the head while I was unconscious! I supposed I deserved it, considering I'd shot him six times. But he was so going to pay for that.

"Hello?" I called out softly.

"Shhh," someone whispered from above and to the right. It was a feminine, breathy response.

"Why?"

"They shock us," she answered.

Oh, how lovely. But I didn't have time for this. I was on a deadline.

"Let me out!" I screamed, because hey, it was what any normal person would have done. "What the fuck is th...?"

The bolt of electricity hit me with unforgiving speed and vigor. Every muscle in my body went rigid while the charge rode them. Unfortunately my tongue had been in between my teeth when it had hit. I'd nearly bit the tip of it off. There was blood, a good amount of it, sliding over my lips and warming them. The pain momentarily stopped my plan of distraction. However, I could already feel the wound healing within my mouth. Ah, the wonders of being the daughter of a god.

"Let me out!" I howled again.

"Shut up!" Someone below and to the right hissed.

I ignored her to yell, "Let me out!"

Zzzzap! I was ready for it this time but that didn't mean it felt good. My tongue thanked me for my fortitude. "Show your face, you fucking coward!"

And he did. The door off to the left side opened to let in a bright white light that made me squint. A short guy in blue and gold mesh tracksuit shuffled into the room.

He sneered at us from within the cone of light, "Which one'a'ya bitches is makin' all tha racket?"

I snarked back, "Which asshole wants to know?"

Tracksuit let out a hearty laugh at my expense. He apparently thought I was in no position to be insulting anyone. He'd have been right with anyone but me.

He sauntered forward to gloat in my face. A stupid little smirk perfected his douchey soul-patch covered look. "Yer fatter'an tha girls Michael usually brings in. He musta gone slummin'."

"He wasn't complaining when he stuck it to me," I shot back.

Tracksuit closed the distance to grab me around the neck. "He fucked you?"

Uh oh. Apparently Michael wasn't supposed to sample the merchandise. Maybe he should have told me that little bit of trivia before he'd knocked me out.

But I was wasting precious time now that Tracksuit's polyester covered arm was touching my skin. I'd never tried to send my power through my neck before. I suspected it could be done but now wasn't the time to experiment. My hands snaked around his wrist before he could pull back. I locked them tight. One touch against his skin was all it took for his eyes to shoot wide. Tracksuit flailed in an effort to knock me off but it was already too late for him.

He screeched in pain and managed to shove away using the weight of his stumble backwards. A half second later he collapsed to the ground, clawing at the black that was spider-webbing up his veins from where I'd touched him. The disease was already to his neck and steadily filling his corneas with black. I watched his chest rise one last time without feeling a bit of remorse.

He'd shocked us for the horrible crime of making noise and was helping someone keep us captive. Add to that his painful grasp of the English language and an atrocious choice in fashion and I'd say I'd done the city a favor. But none of my co-captives thanked me.

What must have been two hours later the body of Tracksuit hadn't decomposed into primordial ooze. He looked dead. It was a rather ordinary kind of death, unlike most of my other kills. The only items of note about his corpse were the massive black sores at his neck that were oozing with thick black blood.

I finally felt guilt because his lack of decomposition meant he'd been a vanilla human, a bad human, but human nonetheless. The things that I did weren't supposed to harm humans. They were supposed to keep them safe.

I supposed Tracksuit had long since given up his right to safety when he'd taken up with the Dungeon crowd. Why was I letting myself get worked up over this? Perhaps it was because there wasn't a whole lot to do in a three by three cage but think. Thinking of something more productive would be a better use of my time.

It was actually a good thing that Tracksuit had been human. I'd fully expected backup to rush in as soon as they realized I'd fucked up their guy. But here we were, two hours later and no one had made so much as a peep. Not even from my co-captives. They were probably under the impression they'd get shocked again if they made a sound. Though I had a feeling I'd killed the trigger-happy electro-maniac.

An Eminem tune began playing from somewhere near the floor. It was a tinny sound, like a song played over a crappy speaker. Tracksuit's phone was ringing. Maybe his boss was checking up on him. The ring tone silenced briefly before starting up again and then again. Whoever was calling was certainly persistent. I was beginning to think maybe Tracksuit's girl was phoning him.

More guilt over murdering some chick's boyfriend had me gnawing on the edge of my lip. Damn it. I couldn't afford this right now. And for crying out loud I was in a cage! Remorse should have been the last thing I had to contend with.

Yet I understood why it was there. It was the whole comic book character mentality, with great power comes responsibility. I had great power; I was supposed to be using it wisely.

I already knew what I had to do before I could look into stopping the demon summoning. I had to free all of the women Michael had lured before something worse than being stuffed in a cage happened to them. Completing the task might redeem me just a little.

"Is he dead?" Someone whispered from the bottom left.

"Shhh," another hissed, from the bottom right.

"Yes," I answered at full volume because I knew if there wasn't someone within hearing distance then we were most certainly under surveillance. There was no point in whispering.

"That shithead felt me up every time they let me out to use the bathroom." The childlike voice from the bottom left had gone cold and mean.

Oh my god. The bathroom. I hadn't smelled anything in the room that would make me think these girls were doing their business right in the cage. But now that she'd mentioned it, I suddenly realized I had to pee, really, really badly.

Alcohol usually hit my system quick and passed right through me. Michael had made me drink a glass of rum with whatever drug he'd given me. I wasn't really built for straight up hard liquor. My body was reminding me of that.

"How many of them are there?" I asked to give myself something else to think about than my full bladder.

"There was him," Bottom-left replied, "A huge asshole who can barely speak English and a sleaze bag in a nice suit but he's never alone."

I was betting the sleaze bag in the suit was Chet. "The one in the suit, how many does he usually bring with him?"

"It's the huge asshole you have to worry about. He's rough. He likes to make girls scream." Bottom-left didn't seem to recall what I'd done to our tracksuit-clad keeper a few hours ago. She did remember the question I'd asked without my having to repeat it. "He has four guys as big as the other one with him at all times."

Four. Damn it. I needed my gun.

A door crashed open somewhere further in the building. I hadn't heard the steady thumping of bass at all during the two hours I'd been there nor had I heard it just now when the door had been open. That meant we weren't being kept in the Dungeon. I wasn't sure that was a good thing. I at least knew the area around the Dungeon. We could be in Vermont for all I knew.

The big guy Bottom-left had warned me about burst into the pound-for-women. He took one look at the body on the ground before fixing his eyes on us. I knew without being told that this guy was a Rhino. I couldn't see the horn necklace he'd be wearing around his neck but I could almost make-out the horn on his face that was ordinarily hidden from humans.

He was an ugly thing by any standards. He had a nose as big as my hand on his industrial-bucket-sized head. There seemed to be little palate to speak of. Where his nose ended, his lips picked up in a puckered frown that was almost eclipsed by the bulbous shape above it. Like the others of his kind he had the body of a professional wrestler -- that is to say if that wrestler had been crossbred with a mastodon. His shoulders were the width of my Mini Cooper, his colossal head was slightly bowed beneath the ten-foot high roof and his fists were as big as my skull. I would die in a stand-up fight with this thing. I could not get in a stand-up fight with him.

"Who did?" He snarled in a low, rumbling voice that put the Alpha werewolf's to shame. His stubby index finger pointed to Tracksuit's body on the surprisingly clean laminate floor.

"She did!" One of my fellow captors shouted.

I was trying to place the location of her voice when the Rhino started forward. Oh crap! I pulled back, pressing myself into the corner of the cage and bringing my legs up beneath me as close as I could. I wasn't going to let this thing grab me so he could no doubt smash me into the metal bars until I either passed out or died without putting up at least a little fight.

That seemed to be just what the Rhino wanted to do. He'd shoved his meaty fist through the bars. It only made it a few inches in before the bulk of his arm stopped him. He twisted it with an angry push of air through his nose but got no further. The goon's black eyes stared savagely at me. I was beginning to wonder if Tracksuit had been more than a co-worker.

The Rhino pulled his fist out only to shove it through a different bar with no more success. He switched arms, failing that he let out a growl of outrage. I heard a jingling of keys and wondered if the Rhino was going to be really stupid. If so, I might not have to work all that hard after all. But no, he couldn't be that much of an idiot. Things never went that well for me.

While I watched in stunned silence, the Rhino lifted a large key ring from the waistband of his pants and shoved a key into the lock on the cage door. I held my breath, mentally calculating the moves I was going to make to break free of the behemoth. But the lock didn't turn for him. He exhaled roughly, lifted another key and wiggled it in. Oh, lovely. The dumb ass didn't even know which key would open the door. For all I knew he might not even have it.

He tried two more, letting out increasingly frustrated breaths in between each one.I contemplated if I'd be able to unlock my own door after his corpse was decomposing on the floor. In the end I decided to let him get it open first.

His minuscule lips lifted into a sick smile of pleasure when the lock made a distinctive clicking sound. He'd found the key, finally, after twelve tries. That expression told me that I was going to pay for making him go to all the effort.

I remained pressed to the back of the cage in a ball shape. The Rhino struggled with the cage latch for a few seconds before the metal door swung open. I took a deep, steadying breath as I stared into the eyes of a killer. There would be no remorse when this one died.

Given his massive stature I would have thought he'd have arms long enough to reach the two and a half feet back to me. I'd have thought wrong because the top of his head hit the edge of the cage when his sausage-like fingers were still inches away from me. He shoved the other arm inside as if that would help matters. This time it was his Mini Cooper shoulders that smacked into the front of the cage. He let out an exasperated snarl just before trying to squeeze his entire upper body in with me. This was going to take all night, or at least until he figured out that he needed something long and sharp to jab at me.

In an effort to speed this up, I lifted my hands to curl around his bare arms. They were rough like an animal's hide, which I supposed made sense given what he was. I had a brief moment of stomach fluttering doubt that my power wouldn't work on him. I'd never plagued a Rhino before. Then I saw the black weaving its way up his leathery skin.

He jerked so violently that the cage damn near buckled beneath it. His unmanly shriek within the metal cage sent vibrations through the confined space. The shrill sound pierced my eardrum and made my eyes momentarily roll back into my head. I shook it off because I had a feeling I was going to have to worry about...

The Rhino gripped my arm to yank me forward. I spilled out of the cage onto floor because of my legs couldn't support my weight yet after being cramped in the confine space. The Rhino's hacking breath halted long enough to grab me by the leg again, lift me by it and use me like a baseball bat...only there was no ball, there was only a wall. He smashed me head first into the cream-painted cinder blocks. Stars burst behind my eyelids.

He pulled me back to repeat the action, this time slower but I didn't doubt that it would still hurt. I needed him dead. I willed it to happen, willed my dark power to flow down to my foot and into the swollen hand that held it. The Rhino let out another scream that ended in a fit of coughs. He dropped me mid-swing. I continued forward, slamming into the wall with a rib-crushing momentum.

The Rhino was down for the count, working hard on breathing instead of worrying about killing me. I lay where I'd come to rest for several minutes, biting my lip to keep from making pained noises. I knew I should move now that our second captor's breath had nearly stopped. He had keys and I didn't want to search a pile of stinking ooze for them.

I said a silent prayer for fortitude. This was going to hurt. I might be able to heal wounds faster than any Were or vampire but I always felt the pain for far longer.

Rolling onto my stomach allowed me to get up in stages. First I slid back to my knees, which though tender were surprisingly strong. Then I pulled upward into a full kneel. With the help of the wall I got to one foot, wavering sickly from what was probably a full-blown concussion. I rested against the wall for a half a minute until my stomach protested. Instinctively I bent over, saw there was a waste bin there, and puked the rum, drugs and half a ham and cheese sandwich on top of the Twinkie wrapper it held.

"Let us out," someone whispered. It sounded suspiciously like the girl that had sold me out.

I silently muttered, bitch. She could wait. My stomach was still rolling from the bit of spring training I'd partaken in. And there were more important things to do first -- like scope the place out. I wasn't going to parade the group of...

My eyes swept back over the pound-for-woman to find that there were five women in the dozen cages the bastards had. They were in varied poses. One had her arms clenched around the bars with her face pressed to it as close as she could get. She stared at me with determination in the pale eyes that peered beneath frizzy wheat colored hair. This was the one that had sold me out and she looked like she was willing to do a whole lot more to get free.

A young woman who couldn't have been legal drinking age cautiously watched me from the side of her cage, one of the cages that had been below mine. I suspected she was the one who had asked me about Tracksuit's death. She'd be the first I'd let out. Another woman sat in the middle of her cage, knees pulled up in a yoga pose with her hands rested on them like a Zen master. She'd be the second to last because I suspected she could handle waiting. The others were understandably freaked and silent. I'd make judgment calls about them later.

I nodded to them all but immediately regretted it. It had hurt. If I got brain damage over this someone was getting resurrected by a necromancer so I could kill them all over again.

I tested my legs to see if they could hold my weight now. The pins and needles sensation would have been harder to bear if I hadn't had worse pain elsewhere. I shook it off, passing my weight from my right hip to my left and back until it was more bearable. Then I started for the Rhino.

The keys were surprisingly easy to find. He'd dropped them on the floor beside the cages once he'd gotten my lock unfastened. My lips turned down when I realized that I could have rested a little longer.

To keep the cluttered key ring from making too much noise I stuffed it into the pocket of my jeans. "I'll be right back," I told the women and then I started for the door.

"Don't leave us!" The sell-out shrieked behind me.

I suddenly wished I'd been given the power to make people unconscious because she was going to alert someone before I could get them all out. I hurried through the pound door into an exterior room. There were three narrow windows high on the left wall as if we were below the ground in a basement. Little light was coming through them.

It was still night. Maybe I hadn't truly spent two hours in the cage. I'd guessed but usually I wasn't half bad at judging time.

The fact that it was night out wasn't necessarily a good thing. There could be vampires on Chet's payroll. My power didn't work on vampires. Could I get the women out and then stall until daylight?

First things first, I had to find the exit.

We were definitely in a basement. The exterior room I came upon when leaving the pound for women was long and narrow, too long to be a residence. It was thankfully empty of everything but old furniture, machinery and canvas-covered items I probably didn't need to know about. From the smell, coating of dust and look of the walls I guessed we were in one of the older buildings in the city. That didn't narrow the location down much.

I crept through the room to the door at the other end. With my hand stretched in front of me, ready to plague at a moment's notice, I whipped the thing open only to find the next room empty. Throwing caution to the wind, I rushed through it to the next door. It too was empty. The door at the other end looked a bit more promising. The casing was made of thick metal, the handle was larger and sturdier, and there were several heavy locks.

My hand went to the keys in my pocket in case I'd need them to get the locks unfastened. When the handle turned easily and I stepped out into the cool, night air I thought that this was far too simple.

Of course that was when someone proved me right by pouncing on me from the shadows.

CHAPTER FIVE

I didn't scream and it wasn't because of the cool hand muffling my mouth. It took a hell of a lot more than someone jumping out of shadows to frighten me. More than that, I was calm.

In fact, I was collected enough to calculate that the person pressed up behind me couldn't be much taller than five foot ten, probably wasn't much heavier than a hundred and seventy pounds, and didn't seem to be all that strong. I decided to attempt to fight rather than plague them. I might feel guilty if it turned out to be a punk kid with circulation problems. One human death on my conscience was enough.

An elbow to the attacker's solar plexus preceded my back kick to their groin. The person behind me grunted, immediately letting go. I whirled around while they were clutching their privates protectively.

"Was that necessary, Miss Denham?"

"Aiden?" The hoarse voice had startled me enough that I'd forgotten to greet him formally.

"Mmm," he purred above a kind of laughing cough.

I had no idea what that meant. But apparently the undead were susceptible to kicks to the family jewels. I'd have to remember that.

"What the hell are you doing here? I could have hurt you," I demanded.

He unfurled to his full height (of five foot ten, I'd been spot on). "I seriously doubt that," he said with a half smile of his ghostly grey lips.

I couldn't see him all that well in the shadows of the alley I'd stumbled into but I thought his long hair was straight tonight. It was darker in color, not black but definitely not honey blonde. It was a good choice because Aiden looked better as a brunette.

He was wearing one of his many three-piece suits. I didn't need light to know that it was a garment that was no doubt made of the finest fabric and tailored to fit him like a second skin. These were requirements of all his suits.

What little illumination there was allowed me to see that he'd maintained much of the facial features from the other night with the exception of the nose. He seemed to be experimenting with a narrower sniffer tonight. I didn't approve but I'd never tell him so. It would be admitting that I approved of other versions of him.

Focus, the little voice in my head screamed. There were five females back inside that I'd yet to free. I couldn't be outside debating with a vampire.

"Wait a second," I said aloud as if he'd been involved in my internal monologue. "You said the vampires couldn't be linked to this at all. What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you this," he said simply.

I looked down at the offer held by his delicately formed fingers. It was a gun nearly identical to the piece I usually carried. The only variance was this one's grip lacked a slash mark from a mutated jungle cat.

"You brought me a gun," I said dully. "Out here...wherever I am."

"You're in Jamaican Plain," Aiden said helpfully. "And yes, I did."

Warily I asked, "How did you know where I was when even I didn't?"

"I followed you."

There was no compunction to that statement. He said it as if it were a foregone conclusion that he'd do such a thing. I opened my mouth to ask another question but clamped it shut without bothering. There were more important things to worry about than why Aiden was following me.

The gun would be helpful. I took it with murmured thanks and tried my best not to look at him. I might do something stupid if I did. Before I could turn back to the door Aiden produced two clips of ammunition from some place hidden within his sports jacket and set those in my hand as well.

"I can't go in with you," he said unnecessarily.

I gave him a sideways look. "What makes you think I'm going back in?"

"You're going to set those girls free. And then I suspect you'll stay to wait for whoever was keeping them." His next statement was spoken as a soft reprimand, "By the by, you haven't told me what you've learned."

The bridge of my nose wrinkled in irritation. "I didn't realize I was supposed to check in with you at every turn."

"Not every turn." Aiden's eyes dropped to my lips.

It flustered me enough that I shifted impatiently toward the door. "Can this wait until after I get these girls out of here?"

He shook his head. It sent the cascade of his hair gently outward. I could smell a slight perfume of cinnamon and spice wafting off him and it was mouthwatering. Maybe he'd come from making breakfast for a lucky lady. I hated that it bothered me that he'd have women.

Aiden's smooth-as-butter tone was matter-of-fact. "After you get the girls out of there I'll be escorting them safely home."

My right eyebrow lifted at him. I let my voice dip into incredulous territory. "You're going to escort them safely?"

He feigned a hurt expression. "You say that as if I have a voracious appetite for young women and can hardly control my urges for the short time I'll be with them."

"I don't know that you don't."

Aiden lifted a hand to his heart. "I am insulted, Miss Denham. Truly."

I felt my cheeks flush automatically. "Sorry." Then I realized how much of a nitwit I was being. "Wait, no. I'm not sorry. You're a vampire. I have every right to think you're a blood-drinking fiend. Gods, why am I even debating with you?"

I turned on my heel and ignored any parting words he had for me. They'd been something said with a laugh, a lovely laugh that made me shiver. He was damn dangerous on too many levels.

But I had a gun now. I was pretty dangerous too.

I ran back through the basement because I'd wasted far too much time dallying with Aiden outside. The girls had stopped screaming. That much was good at least. If there was surveillance, and perhaps the cameras couldn't pick up the lumps on the floor, whatever asshole was watching it might think nothing was amiss now that they'd settled down.

As a precaution I peered around the last door into the pound-for-woman with the gun held in front of me. It was empty of everyone but the corpse on the floor, the ooze that had formally been the Rhino and the women in the cages. I headed within and was immediately met with the imploring sounds of the chick that had sold me out.

"Oh my god, you came back! Let me out! Let me out! Pleeeeassse! I can pay you."

Yeah, she was totally getting let out last.

I fumbled with the large key ring as I knelt at Bottom-Right's door. She looked up at me with surprise.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I told her softly.

"I didn't think you were," she said in her child-like voice. "I'm just...wondering why you picked me first."

"You were the one that answered my questions." I tried to give her a warm smile but under these conditions, in a room with a corpse, a dozen cages, and my blood on the wall, it wasn't all that easy.

I found the key to her lock on the fourth try. Unlike the Rhino I had no trouble unlatching the door. I blamed it on my smaller fingers.

"There are two big rooms out there, just run straight through them to the outside door," I told her as I moved to the next cage where a soccer-mom in a cashmere cardigan, penny loafers and beige pants was waiting. She looked like she probably had kids. I continued my instructions for Bottom-right while I pushed the same key into the lock. "There should be a guy with long brown hair out there. He said he'd help you get to safety." And for some reason, I believed him. "If there is anyone else besides a guy with long brown hair, you get the hell back here, fast. Do you understand?"

Bottom-right nodded quickly. "What about you?"

"I've got to finish unlocking these. You go on. I can handle myself." I paused long enough to smirk at her.

She took a step back, glancing between the door to freedom and me. "Thank you, so much. What's your name?"

"I'd really rather not say." I gestured above us. "There's probably surveillance."

Bottom-right's eyes rounded a little. "Oh. Good idea. Thanks again. I'll never be able to repay you." She made a move to hug me but seemed to think better of it now that I was unlatching the soccer mom's cage.

"Take her too." I yanked the door open then stepped to the next cage.

"Please," the sell-out pled. "Please, lady, let me out."

I ignored her even after Soccer Mom and Bottom-right had rushed out of the room on hobbling legs. I took pity on Top-right, the shushing girl. She'd legitimately been trying to warn me something bad was about to happen, even if it was for a mildly selfish reason.

I had to help her down from her perch because it was nine feet off the ground and she'd been in the cramped space for a while. She stood working her legs out behind me while I unlocked the Zen master.

"Go on out," I insisted to the two of them once Zen master was freed.

Only after the other women had departed did I kneel in front of the sell-out's cage. She pulled away from the bars, sensing I wasn't pleased with her. I noted her wheat blonde hair was in a rather dated curly style (or frizzy as the case may be) and that she was wearing a sweatshirt that was probably from back when hair bands were big.

"I left you for last for a reason," I informed her with a frown etched into the lines around my mouth. "You sold me out when that guy asked who had done the deed. That was uncool."

"I'm...sorry," she said with a mixture of fear and indignation. "I didn't want to die."

"None of us wanted to die."

"But I wasn't trying to get myself killed by screaming like a mad woman and attacking people."

She was insulting me? Seriously? "Yeah, well who is on this side of the bars now?"

"I can pay..."

I put the key into her lock. "Look, I don't want your money. Just do the world a favor, stop being such a selfish bitch. Because next time your rescuer might not be as forgiving as I am."

She scrambled out of the cage as soon as I'd swung the bars aside. The baleful look she gave me on her way out of the pound could have killed a lesser creature. I resisted the urge to sigh. Some people were beyond redemption.

Steadily I followed behind her to the outside door on the off chance that Aiden would still be there. There was a huddle of frightened women standing a few feet to the left side of the door. The sell out hurried to join them. Aiden emerged from the shadows near me.

"That's all of them?" He questioned, but I knew he already had the answer.

I glanced at them. "Yes."

"You will be careful." It wasn't a question. It should have been because I was rarely careful when it came to things like this.

"You'll get them to their homes safe and unharmed by anyone," I said back in a similar tone.

His lips lifted in an indulgent smile. "Of course."

I gave him a stiff nod then turned to go back inside. His tepid hand grabbed my wrist to hold me back. I stopped walking because I thought it was what he wanted and because I was concerned that if I moved away any more than that, he'd pull me back against him.

"You can leave if this is too dangerous," he said at a softer volume from closer to my ear. "I'll understand if you can't finish it."

"It isn't too dangerous." It was probably a lie but I was a little weirded out that he'd sought me out for this task for the vampires but was now trying to get me to stop. Was this sexism talking now? "Besides, someone in the Covens hurt my dad. Like you said, it's probably the same person that is doing this. I have to finish this."

Tone hardening he replied, "Vengeance is never worth dying for."

"I won't die for it."

"See that you don't."

I tugged forward out of his cool grip. He let me go this time. I didn't breath in relief until I was back inside the basement. Then I realized how much of an idiot I was.

How could I be relieved that I was back in the basement? I'd been captive to an evil asshole, killed two of his men, and released all of his prisoners. I was now going to voluntarily put myself back into a cage to wait on him. There was absolutely no reason to feel relieved.

With my legs stretched up against the top corner of the cage, my back lifted half off the wall, I sat thinking because it was the only thing I could do now.

There was a good reason for my relief. Each time I was around Aiden, which seemed to be happening more and more frequently these days, I had to resist urges. There was something about him that drew me to him. It was powerful, unlike anything I'd experienced with any other man, or vampire for that matter. I couldn't trust myself around him because if I gave in to those urges, Aiden would be killed. I couldn't handle that kind of guilt.

He might be undead but until I saw him kill someone innocent with my own two eyes I was going to assume he didn't deserve death. After all, he'd saved my ass twice. Or was it two and a half times now that he'd brought me a gun? I supposed that distinction was up in the air. I still had to live through this.

The piece rested uncomfortably between the back waistband of my jeans and my skin. Just having it there, cold, heavy and with the safety on, made me feel a little more secure. A little security was good at a time like this.

I didn't really have a plan. The fact that I'd had to save five women had put a crimp in the one plan I did have. Chet wasn't going to be in the mood to talk to me now, at least not about demon summoning. I'd hoped he got loose lipped when he was doing whatever it was he did with the women Michael brought to him. I hadn't realized they weren't killing the girls. Not that it was a bad thing that they weren't. But now I had to come up with some new way to get information out of the asshole.

A dark figure appeared in the room beside me. I turned my head with a quick intake of air; it was what passed as "startled". The mist-coated suit, kohl black hair and slate eyes of my guide were an unexpected sight. I didn't greet him because of the surveillance that was most certainly still rolling. The cameras wouldn't pick him up because he wasn't really in this realm. He was in the Spirit Realm.

"Convince him to leave you alone," he said in his deepest of voices. The tie was indigo today. That wasn't good.

My eyebrows lifted at him in question.

"He cannot follow you. He cannot help you. He cannot touch you," Kastio practically snarled the final verb.

I lifted my hands, palm up, and shook my head. I hope he understood Laura sign language for, what the fuck are you talking about?

"Convince him or he will be killed," my guide insisted.

I stared at him for a long silent moment. He was talking about Aiden. Now? When I was locked in a three-foot by three-foot cage waiting on a kidnapper to realize I'd killed two of his goons? Kastio thought now was a good time to remind me that Aiden Bruce would be killed if I made a misstep where he was concerned?

"Why?" I demanded instead of simply agreeing. I'd asked the same question a few times before and always he'd given me some cryptic answer.

"Because it has to be," Kastio said right on cue.

Yup. See? Cryptic answer.

"Not good enough," I snapped and pulled my legs down in front of me. It was easier to appear in charge when I was upright.

His slate eyes went dark, from gray to nearly black. That was probably a bad sign. But what could he do to me from the Spirit Realm?

Kastio's deepest of voices was thick with some unnamed emotion. I suspected it was probably anger. "I do not make this threat lightly, Laura."

I hate, haaated, when he used my name. The way the vowels dripped off his tongue was almost like a prayer. It was seriously disturbing.

"Nor do I give you direct orders," he pointed out. And I knew he was right.

"What about Fate?" I asked and hoped it wouldn't be useful information for the cameras.

Kastio's black eyes swiveled away from me. He was usually robotic in his lack of emotion. But that had clearly been a guilty response. Guilt after being asked that question meant one thing: he was screwing with Fate!

Whoa. Did that mean Aiden figured into my fate? It had to, didn't it? Did that explain why I was so dramatically pulled to him?

What in the world could Fate have planned involving a vampire? I played over the things Kastio had said to me. He'd said that I couldn't "think of taking up with the vampire". Taking up meant getting involved with, didn't it? Fate wanted to hook me up with a vampire? Why would that be a bad thing? Vampires were notoriously fickle creatures. He'd quickly get bored of me once he'd gotten what he wanted and then he'd drop me for the next flavor of the month.

With a quick shake of my head I pushed the thoughts of Aiden and Kastio aside. We were going to discuss this, later. "Not the time for this," I said firmly.

I heard Kastio push a heavy breath through his nose. He flickered out of sight leaving behind a man-shaped cloud of mist as usual. The particles shot out in all directions.

Back against the inner wall I pulled myself to rest until someone arrived. It would hide the gun from my captors and I might be able to stick my feet through the bars for a good stretch. I focused on my cute green and black argyle socks and the tiny frayed edges of my jeans to keep from thinking about what had just transpired. When my thoughts automatically drifted back to contemplating how the vampire figured in, I got desperate enough to mentally recite famous soliloquies from Hamlet.

CHAPTER SIX

I'd been halfway through the soliloquy from act three, scene three when I heard the exterior door open. My recitation ceased in order to listen to the footsteps. At least three different pairs of feet were drawing toward me. It was about damn time.

The man I assumed was Chet swept into the room with his retinue of Rhino thugs fanning around him. "Douche" was the word that immediately popped to mind. He had on a white linen suit ala Stef from Pretty in Pink, two decades out of style, but instead of shaggy blonde hair he had a buzz cut. Oh, and Chet wasn't pretty like Stef. Even against the backdrop of four Rhinos, when anyone looked attractive, Chet barely managed to shine. Maybe it was the drill-sergeant-that-never-gets-to-take-leave look that was stuck on his smashed face.

Chet glanced from the body of Tracksuit to the clothes that had once housed his Rhino enforcer. Then he looked at me. There was malevolence in his eyes that couldn't be mistaken for anything else. He was going to kill me. Or at least he was going to try, really, really hard. Hell, he might even get his hands dirty trying to do it himself.

He walked until he stood directly in front of my cage. Considering the gun in my pants, it wasn't the smartest of positions for him to be in. But shooting him now would be a silly idea.

"What did you do with the girls?"

My eyebrows lifted at the surprisingly feminine voice that had asked the question. Chet wasn't a small guy but he sounded like Mickey Mouse. I had to bite my tongue to keep from smirking or laughing. No wonder he traveled with a pack of Rhinos. No one could take threats uttered in that voice seriously.

"I ate them," I answered with an irreverent wiggle of my right eyebrow.

Chet responded by shouting in high-pitched outrage and kicking Tracksuit. I suspected that was a metaphor for their entire relationship. Maybe I'd done the badly dressed doofus a favor.

"Get her out of there," Chet ordered one of his goons.

Now I knew without a glimmer of a doubt that Chet wasn't the brains behind the demon summoning. Anyone who could see two dead bodies on the floor, note the release of their other prisoners and then free the remaining person could not be running a secret crime ring. His foolishness was good for me. I'd let them remove me from the cage before killing any of them because I suspected someone here had information I needed. I just hoped one of them was sniveling enough to give it to me.

The Rhino faction had one saving grace: they preferred hand-to-hand combat to guns. With hands as big as melons it kind of figured. I mean what gun could they wield anyway? I just had to make sure I disabled them all before they could get those meaty fists on me.

A goon with cornrow black hair started forward with a set of keys he'd produced from his pocket. He got the lock undone in record time, unlatched the handle and swung the metal bars aside without blinking. Obviously Chet kept his smarter muscle with him. I'd have to take that into account when figuring how to handle this now that I had no plan.

The goon grabbed hold of my ankle, the ankle that was still smarting from the last Rhino, and tore me from my box. Again I spilled onto the ground, nearly losing the gun wedged into my waistband onto the floor. I attempted to shove it back down without them noticing.

Chet gave the goon a gesture that apparently meant: grab her by the collar and choke her to her feet -- because that's exactly what he did. I'd managed to fix the gun so it was snug and frickin' freezing against my backside by the time the goon had followed the order. Seconds later I hung dangling and choking from the melon fist.

"Who killed them?" Chet demanded in his mouse-like voice.

"My head is a little fuzzy," I replied truthfully. If Chet were a pure shapeshifter he'd be able to sense a lie so I couldn't tell one. I thought it was obvious who had killed his men but apparently the idea of a woman coming in and causing this kind of mayhem was unthinkable to him.

Oh, right, shapeshifter.

I should have remembered most of them were misogynist bastards. Hell, the majority of the Underground was. Aside from the Covens, females were a painful minority. And the witches were evenly spread across both sexes since they'd stopped breeding for absolute purity. The decided majority of males meant they still behaved like it was the dark ages and women were property.

Another gesture had the goon shaking me with a teeth rattling gesture. My concussion did not approve. I saw spots, huge polka dotted spots, and pain spiked through my skull to the tune of their dancing.

"Ung," I grit out and instantly felt less-than because of it.

"Who killed them?" Chetey Mouse repeated.

"Shaking me isn't helping to clear my head, brainchild," I replied derisively.

"You need your head cleared?" Chet's hand did something more complicated. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like this.

The Rhino bashed my head into the metal bars on the cage beside me. It hurt, but all things considered it wasn't actually too bad. I pretended to howl in pain and hoped the shapeshifter couldn't sense untruthful agonized outbursts.

"Who. Killed. Them?"

"I have a concussion. I'm not slow or special," I shot back and for it earned another bash into the metal bars. One slammed directly against the spot Michael had no doubt whacked earlier. This time my agonized outburst was genuine.

"Who are you protecting, fatty?"

The cracks about my weight were really starting to get to me. While I wasn't waif-like, I was a respectable size twelve. Well, maybe not respectable, but c'mon, in today's obese world a size twelve wasn't too shabby. I couldn't help that I had a serious weakness for cheesecake and double cheese pizza. Besides, they wouldn't be worrying about my weight when they were fighting to suck in their last breath.

Another slam against the metal was applied when I didn't immediately answer. It was just as well. I'd have said something snarky anyway.

They were going to move on to something worse soon. They had to. I mean it would be insane to keep doing the same thing over and over and expect a different result. Now was the time to act. I couldn't risk that they'd find my gun and relieve me of it.

I reached forward to dig the nails on my left hand into the cornrowed Rhino's leathery skin. Wishing him ill was all I needed to do to start this game. Once I'd seen the black snake up his arm, I reached my right hand back for the gun. Before they could process what was happening, I'd aimed it at the farthest Rhino's right eye and squeezed the trigger.

Apollo's Warning slowed the scene down to a crawl. Surprisingly there was a bullet headed for my head. My head! Not only was it unheard of for a Rhino to carry a gun, my brain was the one thing I wasn't certain I could heal. And these guys weren't supposed to be smart enough to go for the brain!

I slid down out of Cornrow's hands before time resumed its normal flow. The shot rang out, bullet narrowly missing my skull. The heat of it fluffed my hair on its forward trajectory. I followed their attack up with one of my own, aiming at the next farthest Rhino's right eye. They were getting closer. I was screwed if they all jumped me at once because I doubted that even though they looked like professional wrestlers we'd be pretend-fighting.

My warning system kicked in with a low moan. Another bullet was hurdling through the air toward my chest. I wasn't going to be able to slide down out of that one's path. So I stepped aside, back where Cornrow could get me. I was taking a chance that he wasn't too incapacitated to hurt me.

Thankfully he was too busy clutching his chest to bother with me even as his boss waved his hands frantically while squeaking out orders. Let me tell you, Mickey Mouse screaming "annihilate her, you dumb fucks!" is funny enough to distract a girl from her purpose. Temporarily at least.

The next slow down in time proved a bit of a mess. There were three bullets. They weren't fucking around anymore. One was headed toward my skull. The other two must have come from Rhinos missing eyeballs because one bullet sailed toward Cornrow and the other would hit the empty cage to our right.

I ducked down then hopped out of the way of Cornrow's protective bulk. Time resumed its rapid pace. Three more shots rang out and time, of course, slowed to a crawl. This was getting to be ridiculous. I couldn't keep fighting fires. I had to stop them before they started.

I moved just enough to avoid most of the bullets, aimed my gun while I did so and shot the right eye out on the only Rhino with both peepers left. A searing pain hit my abdomen where a bullet sliced through it. I did my utmost to ignore the throb while aiming at the left eye of the farthest goon.

The screaming in the room was music to my ears. It gave me enough time to shoot out the other eye on the second farthest goon. Now I had one near-corpse to my right and two blind Rhinos howling in pain as well as one half-blind goon who was advancing on me. Oh, and Chetey Mouse.

My hands couldn't get the gun aimed on the half-blind guy fast enough before he'd gotten hold of me. He brandished me like a person-shaped club into the cinderblock wall. The gun in my right hand hit first. My fingers bent back with a snap. I yelped as my piece fell from my limp digits.

Now was a good time to experiment with sending the plague through places other than my hands. I'd done it earlier. I was confident I could do it again. The Rhino's hand brushed the skin of my neck. I hoped that was enough. But just in case, I flailed my left arm out in an attempt to grab him elsewhere.

He choked from my diseased attack on the upswing. The plague had hit him hard enough that his strength already sapped. I slipped out of his fingers, once again slamming into the wall at full speed. This time I could almost feel my brain bashing against the inside of my skull. If I never saw another cinderblock wall I'd be a happy camper.

I lay limp until the telltale tingling of my senses forced me to act. It took most of the energy left in me to flip over to get a view of what I was in for. The bullet was headed for my head. I shimmied down the wall while bending forward and hoped it was enough to avoid the projectile.

Between healing Michael's gunshot wounds earlier at the brownstone, plaguing four goons, and healing my own scrapes, I was running dangerously low on steam. There were still three guys standing. One of them wasn't so much as scratched. And even though Chet sounded like a cartoon rodent I had to remember he could still shift into something vicious. In fact, I was shocked that he hadn't already done so.

The reminder was what I'd needed to focus. My gun was a foot away. I threw my body at it then maneuvered it into my left hand. A shot rang out behind me. Since Apollo's Warning hadn't slowed things down I suspected it had been one of the blind guys that had pulled the trigger.

I rolled onto my side enough to aim the gun at Chet's right eye. He ducked before I pulled the trigger, which gave me ample time to adjust for the movement he'd inevitably make. My shot nicked his ear. Not good.

His hands transformed into razor sharp claws before my eyes. Then in a blurring movement he came at me with a savage roar his larynx couldn't possibly have made. I did my best to roll out of the way but landed directly in front of a Rhino's foot.

The massive bastard correctly assumed it was my body pressed against his ankle and kicked me in the chest for my pains. Just for that I locked my arms around his clown-shoed combat boots so that if he kicked, I'd move with him rather than be on the receiving end. My fingers slid up his pant leg in search of bare skin. The idiot giggled above me while doing what looked suspiciously like a tickle dance. Skin touched leathery skin a half second later.

Time slowed. Someone with decent aim had shot at me. There wasn't going to be any way to avoid this one. I could only minimize the damage. I curled around the Rhino's legs, earning a shot in the back. It was far better than the head wound he'd been trying for. But damn. It burned.

The last Rhino flailed blindly around the room, shooting crazily. If I were lucky, he'd shoot Chet. More than likely I'd be the one shot.

I attempted to crawl in the direction of the sightless goon but the latest plague victim and my steadily healing wounds had nearly drained me of energy. A scream tore from my throat upon feeling four knives slice through my ankle. The Achilles' tendon is severed, my brain told me helpfully. I rolled over to find Chet sporting some serious fangs now. So I shot him in the face. Somehow, I supposed because he'd been gloating at the damage he'd wrought on my leg, he hadn't ducked the bullet.

I knew my gun was either empty or one bullet from empty. There were clips in my left pocket but the gun was in my left hand because most of the fingers on my right limb were broken. Chet's shrieks weren't going to last for long. I set the gun down. Getting the clip out hadn't been hard but ejecting the old one and replacing it with the new one one-handed, the left hand, was going to be tricky.

I'd been fumbling with it when time slowed. Damn it. This was getting old. I hadn't gotten any information out of the bastard yet. And I was on a deadline! I didn't have time to muck around.

An infusion of frustration pushed me up onto my good leg and out of the path of the bullet. I stumbled onto the Rhino and shoved a hand to his neck to plague him. While I ducked a gunshot from Chet I shoved the clip into my gun, aimed sideways and shot the shifter in the eye. He'd been too busy dealing with recoil to think about defensive movements. Now he had a missing eye and a torn up left cheek.

The wounds on my leg were rapidly knitting themselves together. I knew I had to apply some pressure to my Achilles' tendon so that it would heal properly fused. The movement of setting my foot flat on the ground made me nearly scream. Now I just had to start forward.

Sliding along the ground on my broken foot was one of the most painful things I'd ever had to do. But it got me to Chet. I used my fatty momentum to shove his flailing body over and then sat on his back with my tortured foot still placed firmly on the ground.

"I can kill you with a touch, Chet," I informed him with a hand pressed firmly against the bare skin of his neck. His claws slashed toward me but he couldn't seem to bend his arms back far enough to get close. "You are going to tell me who you work for."

"Kill me, bitch. I'll never talk."

"Have you ever heard of the Bubonic Plague?" I grit out in pain and hoped it sounded menacing. He didn't answer but his flailing slowed. "That's what I gave to your goons. But for you, I'll infect you and Heal you so I can do it all over again. How does that sound?"

At this point I was bluffing because I was pretty sure I didn't have enough power left in me to Heal him fast enough.

"You're the Black Death?" Chet asked in an unreadable voice.

"The who?" I said in faux confusion I hoped he wouldn't catch. I was the Black Death but I didn't want anyone to know about it. It wasn't a name I'd given myself. It was what the Underground had termed the mysterious person that had killed one of the more dangerous players in the city.

He bucked powerfully enough that I was knocked back. All of the healing my poor tendon had done instantly snapped like an aging rubber band. I bit down on the pain to keep from crying out. Chet took advantage of my pause to roll over, hop onto four limbs and in the process shift into a great orange tiger faster than anything I'd ever seen. It had seemed like he'd imploded and then bam he'd been a tiger!

I mouthed the words, "Oh shit," just as he pounced across the distance to me. Apollo's warning gave me a moment to summersault out of the way. I knew a tiger couldn't speak and that I had no way to get Chet back into human form. It was either kill or be killed.

This was not supposed to happen. Chet was supposed to rat his boss out like a good little torture victim. Shapeshifters sucked.

With my left hand I aimed the gun at his head and got off a single shot before he pounced atop me. The bullet slammed into his feline brain, which was a bit smaller than his usual brain, maybe. Less mass meant more damage. Though he was as good as dead when he'd landed on me, he'd still managed to slash gashes into either side of me just from the continuing momentum.

I lay there on the laminate floor bleeding with a few hundred pounds of cat on me. The problem with this situation was that even though the shifter was good and dead, I hadn't killed him with my plague. He wasn't going to decompose into primordial ooze. I didn't know enough about his kind to know if they remained in their animal form when they died or...

Oh, there went some fur. They didn't remain in animal form after they died after all. Well, at least that much was good.

Except now it meant I had nearly two hundred pounds of naked man atop me. I rolled him off with what was probably my last bit of energy then seriously contemplated falling asleep right where I was. The idea of slicing my Achilles' tendon again so that it could properly heal was enough of a deterrent to get me up. I shook from the pain of it for a half a minute before I could move again.

The shreds of Chet's clothing were on the floor beside one of the puddles of primordial oozes. I shoved my hand in to pull out his wallet and anything else he might have of use. Later I'd go through it but right now I needed to look for signs of his boss because I had no intention of ever returning here.

Shuffling out of the pound-for-women kept my broken foot flat against the ground. It hurt like hell but hopefully would allow for a clean heal. There didn't seem to be any papers with names, addresses, phone numbers or any sort of identifiers in the entire place. I combed for the brown paper packages that might contain desert rocks and even looked for anything that could tie Chet to the Covens. The only thing my search merited me was a nose full of dust.

As the sun rose over Jamaican Plain I hobbled to the sidewalk, bloody, battered and bewildered.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The last person I wanted to see at my front door was the werewolf Alpha. Which meant he was the first person I saw through the peephole. I thought about turning around and going back to bed but knew if I didn't open the door to end his incessant banging someone was going to call the cops.

I lived in an upscale row house in Back Bay that had been converted into apartments. My neighbors knew who I was, who I worked for and tolerated little tomfoolery. At least one of them had their fingers in the symphony pie because my business had been blabbed to my co-workers on more than one occasion.

That was why I reached out, took hold of the Alpha's shirt and yanked him inside before too many neighbors got a good look at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing coming here?" I demanded in a hissing voice that sounded whiny even to my ears. I had a right to whine. Two minutes ago I'd been blissfully unconscious, drugged to the gills and surprisingly pain free. Now I was shockingly awake and felt like I'd been run over by an eighteen wheeler.

"Laura Denham?" The bastard asked while looking me over with a crinkled brow.

I gave him a dirty look in answer.

"What the hell happened to you? You look like you got run over by a truck."

I ignored him to head into the kitchen for an infusion of sugar. Once I'd gotten there and wrenched open the refrigerator door, I let out a grunt of displeasure. There was only one can of generic orange soda left in my refrigerator and little actual food to speak of. I was in serious need of a trip to the grocery store.

"You sure you're Laura Denham?" The Alpha asked again.

I'd already cracked the last can of soda open with the surprisingly pain-free fingers on my right hand and downed an eighth of it by the time he spoke. "Did you meet someone else last night claiming to be me?"

The Alpha's eyes narrowed. "You don't look the same. The woman last night was...well...hotter."

I shot him another, dirtier look. "Yeah, well, I clean up good. Now what the hell do you want, besides insulting me about my morning appearance?"

"You've got the same sparklin' personality and almost the same voice, I guess you're Laura Denham," he said derisively.

Almost the same voice? What was wrong with my voice?

I probably didn't want to know.

I remained quiet while chugging the soda. I needed two more of these and maybe a box of Nerds candy to be able to handle this guy this early. What time was it anyway?

My eyes drifted to the digital clock on my microwave. Eleven thirteen! I'd gotten less than four hours of sleep! Ooooh, this guy had better pay me for my time.

The Alpha eyed me carefully. "So...did...Michael do that to you?"

I couldn't help but laugh. Michael, the mailman, wouldn't have been able to bruise me, much less give me a single one of these wounds. Well, that wasn't completely true. My hand lifted to touch the back of my head where the little asshole had hit me when I was unconscious.

I didn't answer the Alpha's question until I'd finished my soda. "No," was my entirely verbose response.

The Alpha's half frowning face completed the look to a full frown. "You know why I'm here, don't you?"

Without moving more than my arm I aimed the empty can at the trash bin across the kitchen, took the shot and landed it. I could totally play for the WNBA...if I didn't suck at dribbling, jumping and running.

"I distinctly recall asking you that question twice, Alpha," I answered dryly.

The Alpha's frame drew up to his full height. I guessed it was somewhere north of six feet but not by much. If he meant to appear intimidating by doing that he was failing miserably. I'd killed five guys twice his size last night.

"Michael said you shot him six times," the Alpha said in a low pitch I suspected was meant to sound menacing.

"Did he?" I said over a yawn. "Did he show you the wounds?"

"He said you healed them."

A soft laugh escaped me. "Why would I do that?"

"He said it was so you could torture him again," he replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

"I see." I yawned again, unable to hold it back. "Then wouldn't he have had wounds to show for it?"

The dark look on the Alpha's face made me think he was finished playing with me. He pointed his index finger at me and shook it for emphasis. "You shot my wolf. You shot him after I told you that you didn't have permission to use force on him."

I cut him off before he could get to the threatening part of his righteous indignation. "Do you have any idea what your wolf was doing, Alpha?"

"My name is Dominick," he said stiffly. "I don't like anyone callin' me Alpha outside the pack, the Tribunal or Were business."

My right eyebrow arched. "This isn't Were business?"

"Well..." You're not Were, was what he left out.

"Michael has been doing dirty deeds for cheap." I eschewed using any name rather than call him Dominick. We didn't know each other well enough for that. "Did he tell you about that?"

"It doesn't matter what he's been doin'. You had no right to shoot one of mine," Dominick said in that same low pitch.

I shoved off the counter to give him the full force of my angry gaze. "Did he tell you that he lured five women out of bars? That he drugged them and brought them to the man he's been doing this dirty work for? Did he tell you they were being kept in cages in Jamaican Plain like dogs?"

The Alpha stared at me with a mixture of anger and confusion. Just as I'd thought. His wolf hadn't fessed up to jack shit. Michael was an idiot.

Unable to resist the urge, I shoved the metaphorical knife deeper. "I suppose he also neglected to tell you that this same man is keeping his sister hostage. You two must have some close relationship."

I turned on my bare heel to open the cabinet behind me. There had to be something sugary in here, maybe left over cereal or a snack cake. Oh, what I wouldn't do for a Yodel right about now.

"I don't torture information outta my wolves," Dominick said in that low voice I was assuming was his angry voice.

"Maybe you ought to if that is the kind of guy you claim," I replied dryly.

He switched back into his stiff tone. "Where in Jamaican Plain are these women?"

I glanced around the cabinet door at him. "Why?"

"Someone needs to get them out..."

"Already taken care of, doll." My little nicknames were almost always used derisively. I hope he picked up on that.

"I'm not your doll."

I smirked behind the relative cover of the cabinet door. Then I spotted an open box of Wheat Thins on the top shelf. Crap. Top shelf. Could I get it without splitting the Achilles' tendon again? Had four hours of healing been enough? I certainly hoped so.

Just in case, I lifted the weight off my wounded leg and used the good one to stretch up. My back and side protested. Right. I'd forgotten about the gun shot wounds and claw marks.

"Jesus Christ," Dominick exclaimed just before I heard his footsteps. "You're bleedin' right through your robe."

It was a thin green cotton robe that I'd tossed on to answer the door. But if he could see the blood through that, then it had already soaked through my tank top.

"What the hell happened?"

Apparently he'd used Were speed to get to me because one moment he'd been standing just inside the door and the next he was tugging my robe aside in the kitchen. I whirled as fast as my pained body could handle while trying to yank the fabric back from him but he was having none of it.

Dominick took hold of my tank top and wrenched it up. I reacted badly by gasping and punching him in the chin. Strange men could not lift my shirt, especially not when I wasn't wearing a bra.

His eyes met mine in surprise more than anything else. "I'm tryin' to help."

I lifted my chin defiantly. "Can you heal gunshot wounds?"

"No," he admitted.

"Then get your hands the hell off me," I said in my iciest of voices.

He stepped back like a good little dog. But I could tell by the darkening of his eyes that his anger had grown. I'd humiliated him just a little bit by refusing his help.

"Why didn't you go to the hospital?"

My head cocked at his snapped question. That wasn't the kind of question you got angry about unless you thought the person was behaving foolishly. Why was he worrying about me? I'd shot his wolf six times.

In any case, I had an answer for him, even if it was in the form of another question. "Do you go to the hospital when you get hurt?"

He half snorted the reply, "No."

"That would be why."

His eyes scanned the length of me. "What are you?"

"If I didn't answer you last night when I needed your permission, why the hell would I answer you today when I don't?"

"Because I came here to punish you for what you did to my wolf."

"Sweetheart, don't I look like I got punished enough for what your wolf has done?"

Dominick's eyebrows lifted incredulously. "Did Michael shoot you?"

I sighed and slumped back against the counter. This was going nowhere. I shoved my hand into the box of Wheat Thins, pulled a single cracker out and then popped it in my mouth. Crunching it as loudly as I could was a nice little distraction.

"Laura, did my wolf shoot you?"

My teeth grit. "You don't know me well enough to call me Laura."

"Did my wolf shoot you, sweetheart?"

The derisive response made me laugh. I couldn't gripe about it because it had been exactly what I'd done to him. "No, Michael didn't shoot me."

"Then how is this," he waved his hand in front of me, "punishment for what Michael has done?"

"Let's make a deal," I said after crunching through another cracker. "I tell you the story of what happened last night, minus a few details to keep my identity safe, and in exchange, you leave my apartment and never come back. Deal?"

His jaw set tightly. I already knew the answer was no. Nonetheless he said, "I'm not makin' any deals with people that shoot my wolves six times."

I resisted the urge to exhale petulantly. "Then you need to leave because I have nothing else to say to you."

He looked torn between strangling me while screaming maniacally or leaving like I'd demanded. The Alpha's next bit of speech came out between tightly grit teeth. "You shot my wolf six times, once in the throat. He said he was near death."

"In my defense," I said while shoving my hand into the cracker box, "I warned him I would do it if he made a sound. He made a sound."

Even the Wheat Thins were running low. The cracker I'd just popped in my mouth was one of only four left. I hoped he'd leave soon.

"That's no defense," he growled.

I'd had enough of this. I smacked the empty box of crackers down on my counter. It gave off a pathetic thud that didn't so much as draw the Alpha's attention. Nonetheless I pushed off to stand upright again and fix him with a glare nearly identical to his own. "I'm not going to apologize for shooting your wolf six times. I wouldn't have apologized for it even if I hadn't found out what a fucking scum bag he is. So do whatever the hell you're going to do to me so that I can go lay back down because you are wasting my time."

Dominick stared at me in what I was assuming was fury. The corner of his jaw twitched, his nostrils flared and there were two deep lines in between his eyes. "I want answers!"

Unmoved by his shout I calmly replied with, "If you'd wanted answers you'd have taken the deal I offered you."

"You don't run this show!"

Oh, he had not just said that. I was getting furious now. "You are in my house. I do run this show. Now if you'd like to postpone this little impromptu, wholly invasive meeting and reschedule it for a neutral environment then we can talk about who is running things. But until that time, I will not suffer you appearing on the doorstep of my private residence to lord the threat of punishment over my head."

Apparently I'd stunned him into silence. I was at a loss for what I was supposed to do while he gawked at me like a guy that had never seen a girl before. Gods, I'd rather be sleeping right now.

He surprised me by saying, "You're right. I shouldn't have come here unless I planned to do somethin'. I should have called for a mediation instead."

Mediation. What a joke. Some of the factions attempted to play nice by setting up trials and mediations to handle issues between different groups. I wouldn't be joining in that crap because they'd ask far too many questions I'd be unable to answer.

Now that he was in a more reasonable mood I decided to attempt a little reason of my own. "Look, you need to know some of what happened last night. So how about we try this again? I'll tell you what I can if you'll go away and let me get some sleep."

"Fine," he answered tightly.

"I need to sit down or I'm going to pass out but I need a towel first so I don't bleed all over my sofa. I'll meet you in there," I gestured toward my small living room, "in a few minutes."

"Where are your towels?"

"I can handle..."

"Where are your towels?"

It was taking too much energy to argue with him. I needed that energy to heal myself. "Bathroom closet. First door on the right."

Dominick stalked across the linoleum to the broad space that was my living room, dining room and entryway. He disappeared into the bathroom while I shuffled painfully toward my comfy green sueded sofa. By the time I'd reached it he'd already spread two large beach towels for me. I lowered myself down, letting a relieved sigh exhale as my head fell back against the cushion.

I began my story by telling him I was taking part in an ongoing investigation and as such there were details I wasn't at liberty to discuss with him. I explained that Michael had been delivering items to the Dungeon that might be harmful and that it was in everyone's best interest these items not be used to their full potential. He listened while I told him how I'd tracked Michael down to a different bar last night after leaving the Alpha and how we'd mutually lured each other back to my second residence with the understanding that there would be sex. From there I explained everything up until killing Tracksuit exactly as it had happened.

Retelling the tale of my time in the pound-for-women was tricky because I expected the Alpha to believe me capable of killing someone from inside a cage without telling him exactly how I'd done it. He took me on faith until I got to the part about killing the first Rhino.

"A Rhino?" Dominick said with a skeptical crinkling of his brow. "You sure you're not mistaken about that?"

"Why would I be mistaken?" I asked in a benign voice.

He didn't see the trap he was walking into. "Well, I mean, it's a Rhino. Those guys are tough motherfuckers."

"They're also typically no smarter than your average three-year-old."

He continued as if I hadn't spoken, "And you're...just..."

"Just what?" I challenged him, ready to strike when he inevitably answered "just a woman". Ordinarily I wasn't much of a feminist but I was already in a shitty mood.

The Alpha shook his head. "I don't know. You won't tell me."

Nice save. I ignored him to finish my story, "So after I killed the Rhino, I unlocked the cages for the other women. There were five of them. Five women Michael had lured in there for this Chet guy. Five women who were probably going to get murdered. That blood would have been on your hands."

Dominick nodded grimly.

"So no, I'm definitely not going to apologize for shooting him six times. As far as I'm concerned, it was one bullet for each woman and an extra one for the welt he pounded into my head. And if I see him out cruising bars again I'm not going to heal the bullet wound to the larynx this time."

"Michael will be dealt with," Dominick responded gruffly. "You won't have to punish him."

"Your wolf's loyalty isn't with you, Alpha." Woops. I'd said it before remembering he didn't like being called that. Oh, well.

"I know," he agreed. "It is with that Chet guy that has his sister."

"Chet is dead," I said flatly. I'd taken the time to check the wallet before crawling into bed. I had definitely killed the shapeshifter named Chet.

Dominick's eyebrows lifted high on his tan forehead.

"Oh, you thought I looked like this after just one human and a Rhino? Nah, sweetheart, it takes a little more than that to get this girl down." I ignored the irritated flashing of his eyes at my derisive term of endearment to continue, "Chet is dead. But I'd stake my life on him just being a cog in a larger machine. If Michael's sister hasn't called him by now then she wasn't one of the five I freed last night. That means someone else, someone worse than Chet, is out there pulling the strings. And Michael's loyalty is probably the last thing you'll need to worry about when they find out it was one of his girls that freed everyone in their little pound-for-women."

"How will they find out it was one of his women? You took care of them all didn't you?"

Rather than admit I'd killed seven creatures, I said, "There was surveillance. I tried to shut it down, may have succeeded, but it was feeding to an off-sight location. Somewhere somebody has a recording of everything I did last night." That bothered me more than I was going to admit to him. I really didn't need there to be video evidence of the Black Death. Could I hope the footage would be too poor to make out who I was?

Dominick ran a hand through his mussed walnut hair while letting out a sigh. "I'm gonna help," he said a minute later.

"Help what?" I asked in a slow, wary voice.

"I'm gonna help you find out who Chet was workin' for," he said with a resolute stare aimed directly at my eyes. "That's what you're doin', isn't it?"

I couldn't deny that had been my plan. "I don't recall asking for your help."

He chuckled. "You don't have to ask, honey. I can see that you need it."

I resisted the urge to tell him exactly what it took to get me into a state like this. But I needed some aces up my sleeve yet. For all I knew, he could be the one Chet had been working for. "I work alone."

"How cliché," he said with an actual roll of his eyes.

That should have been my line. Irritated I snapped, "Look, I don't know that Michael wasn't working for you. And there isn't a whole lot you can do to prove he wasn't. You are his Alpha after all."

"I don't kidnap women," the Alpha said in his low voice.

I waved a dismissive hand at him. "Yeah, well, you might have that nifty ability to sense a lie but unfortunately I don't."

"If it were me runnin' the show, don't you think I'd have killed you for what you did last night instead of offerin' help?"

"You have a point," I begrudgingly admitted. "But with my luck, no, you'd come here just to screw with me for a bit before you killed me."

He shook his head in disbelief. "And I thought I was paranoid."

"Well, I told you what I could," I said while painfully getting to my feet. "Time for you to mosey on down the road."

The Alpha stood but instead of head toward the door, he walked for me.

I pulled my head back and to the side to look at him suspiciously when his hands reached out for me. "What are you doing?"

"Helpin' you to bed," he said simply as if I were an idiot not to realize it.

I stared at him in silent irritation.

His hands dropped to his sides. "Right." And surprisingly he walked to the door, out it and closed it behind him without my having to fight him.

That had been far too easy. Nothing was ever that easy. Dominick the Alpha werewolf was going to come back to haunt me. I was certain of that.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Clad in a nice knee-length black dress, one of many I owned for the symphony, I stepped through the doors of the steakhouse that was the unofficial stomping grounds for the area shapeshifters. The owner knew I was coming. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

I'd gotten six more hours of sleep after the werewolf Alpha had left. It was enough to fully heal my heel and stop the bleeding from the gunshot wounds, but I still hurt and I was still bruised. I'd applied a healthy coating of make-up to hide my weakness.

When I came around the corner behind the hostess and spotted the restaurant's owner I contemplated if putting on make-up had been the best idea. He was reclined in one of his larger rounded booths with his left arm tossed up over the back edge. His dirty blond hair was longer than the last time I'd seen him. It was curling around his ears and out where it hit the base of his bronzed neck. He needed a haircut but I was in no position to suggest it.

His eyes and mouth held a bone-tired expression that wasn't natural for him. It transformed the moment he spotted me. The frowning mouth lit into a bright smile until he got control of it, switching to the crooked smile I was used to seeing.

Grayson Dennison was the first member of the Underground factions I'd met after my father had given me my powers, transforming me into the full-blown Diakonos I was today. That had been nine years ago. A lot had changed in those nine years but apparently not everything.

"Gray," I nodded at him stiffly once I'd reached his booth.

He ignored my cool greeting to draw himself into his six foot two inch frame. He closed the space between us without a thought and pulled me into the circle of his strong arms. Gray was the very symbol of life in my eyes. It would be centuries before he'd begin showing his age of twenty-seven.

"How have you been, Lore?" He asked in a voice that sounded far too ordinary considering what he was, which was the most powerful shifter in the state of Massachusetts. He'd used my nickname, the one my friends had used when I was younger. It was nice to hear it again.

I tried to pull back so I could give the answer because this pose felt far too intimate. He held onto me for a few seconds longer before reluctantly releasing me. It was probably too long for two people who were supposedly just friends.

"I'm not here on a social call," I said, still stiff.

"I know," his smile faded a little. "You never visit me on a social call."

Like a gentleman out of time Gray helped me into the seat across from where he'd been lounging, gestured for someone to bring me a drink and only when he'd seen me settled did he take his own seat.

"I'd still like to know how you are," he said while we waited for my drink to arrive.

"I've had better days and I've had worse," was my noncommittal answer.

"You're walking pretty slow," he noted. "You must be in pain."

I nodded because there was no point lying to him. As a shapeshifter he'd sense the deception. And my being in pain would help me when I broke the news.

Gray's head lowered toward me so he could speak at a softer volume. "I've seen you heal faster than any of us. It must have been pretty bad."

My shoulders lifted flippantly as I scanned the room for potential threats. "It's a case of overexertion." The restaurant looked like an ordinary restaurant apart from the odd shifter here and there eyeing me warily.

Their leader's head drew back to eye me carefully. He must have spotted something he didn't like for his lips flattened and he soon declared, "You should see my Healer."

As Prime of Massachusetts, Gray had some nice perks. An on-staff Healer was one of them. An on-staff Healer that he could trust to keep their secrets from the Covens was even better.

"You should wait until you've heard why I had to heal before you offer me services," I said without meeting his eyes.

"I'll always offer you services, Lore, no matter what you did."

I didn't like the way his voice had dipped low when he'd said "services" but I supposed it was my own fault for using that word. Another flippant shrug punctuated my words. "I'll be good as new after a good night's rest."

"So this happened today?"

"Last night."

"Didn't you heal while you slept?"

"Some asshole woke me up at eleven this morning."

The waiter arrived with a bottle of orange Crush. I couldn't help but smile at Gray. He'd remembered my preference for sugary orange-flavored drinks.

"Thanks," I murmured while glancing away from the pleased expression that grew on his face. Sipping on the drink gave me an excuse to keep quiet.

"I've already got my season tickets for the B.S.O." Gray started in on a new topic. "Wes is planning a trip down for the Fourth. You're still playing in the Pops right?"

I was the only principle player that played in the Boston Pops as well as the Boston Symphony Orchestra. I'd begged for the right when they'd refused to make me associate principle. And I'd taken half the pay it would have usually merited to seal the deal. "Yeah."

"Excellent." His head bobbed as if it really were excellent. "We can't wait."

Wesley Dennison was Gray's younger brother. Unlike Gray, he'd stayed in upstate New York with the rest of the Dennison clan. It was actually very strange for a shifter to leave their family unit. But Gray had moved to Boston seven years ago. I supposed it had been a good move on his part considering the power he now wielded. He'd still be second fiddle to his father in the Dennison Clan if he'd stayed.

"Still no ring on that finger," Gray noted in a tone that was playful but the widening of his eyes seemed to say the topic was significant to him. "When is someone going to make an honest woman out of you?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "You'd think you'd have learned by now."

"Yeah," he half laughed, an uneasy sound to my ears. "Always the same debate, isn't it? You tell me you'll never get married and I tell you you'll be overcome with the typical female lust for matrimony as soon as you meet the right guy."

I bobbed my head in agreement, adding, "And I scoff at you long and loud until we agree to disagree. So let's just cut right to that."

"You haven't changed one bit, Lore," Gray replied with a broadening grin.

"I've changed." My lips twisted sourly. I pointed a finger to my temple. "I found a gray hair last week."

"That's aging, not changing."

I glanced away from him because it was a reminder that aging was something he wouldn't have to worry about for centuries. That particular issue would have been a huge sticking point between us if I'd ever been stupid enough to date him. Unlike vampires there was nothing a shapeshifter could do to keep their mate from dying a quick mortal death, not that I had any particular interest in becoming the walking dead.

"Speaking of the right guy, how's Zeno?"

I blinked hard at Gray, half in confusion at his leap and half in irritation at the name he'd uttered. It was the name belonging to my childhood best friend and sometime boyfriend. "We're off again," I said bitterly.

"Oh?" Gray's wheat colored eyebrow lifted. "How many times does that make now?"

"I've stopped counting." My voice was in its sharp I-don't-want-to-talk-about-this mode.

He gave a hearty laugh that irritated me even more. "You know if you'd picked me instead of him all those years ago, things would have been completely different."

"If I'd picked you all those years ago I would have been cheating on him. Neither of us would have respected me if I'd done that," I reminded him.

Gray's lips spread into his cheeky grin. "I could have handled a little loss of respect for you."

I let out an unladylike snort. "Like you knew how to respect women back then. How could I forget? You were a womanizing dog. Another reason I didn't pick you."

The cheeky grin fled to something darker that he quickly covered with a flirty wink. "It wouldn't have been a problem unless you'd fallen madly in love with me."

I lowered my eyes and said nothing. I had liked Gray when we were teenagers. I'd avoided anything serious with him because I'd thought I could have fallen bad for him. Hell, I still had a huge soft spot for him to this day. But one-night stands were his shtick and I'd never wanted to be one of those to him. Maybe the spot I'd stuck myself in was worse.

"So what did Prince Charming do this time?"

I lifted my gaze again. Explaining what had happened with Zeno was somehow more comfortable ground to be on. "He expected me to drop everything and move to London with him."

"He still doing that venture capitalist thing?"

"Yeah, that and real estate development."

Zeno was also chasing a lead on our kind. But even after nine years of friendship Gray didn't know what I was. I'd never fully explained, only showed him what I could do.

According the Kastio we weren't allowed to tell anyone about what we were because it would reveal the existence of the gods to the world, something about the world being unable to handle it. That was apparently an issue even in the already hidden Underground. So I had the lovely distinction of keeping my nature a secret from not one, but two different societies. It was a big reason why Zeno and I had been on again off again for so long instead of just off. He was one of the only people on Earth with which I could actually relax.

Gray poked at the topic of my love life just a little more, "Any new beaus?"

My stupid, stupid brain immediately jumped to Aiden's lovely smile. Kastio was going to rant at me for that one. "Nope," I quickly retorted. "And before you say anything, I'm completely okay with that. It means I don't have to clean the apartment."

Gray chuckled lightly.

I fixed him with my best professional expression. "So did we get the niceties out of the way? Can I say what I came here to say now?"

His cheerful expression instantly faded. "Why you always gotta do that?"

I'd half expected that response from him and waved it off as if it were of no concern. But I did address it. "Because you're just going to try to flirt your way into my pants if I let you continue. It's not going to work anymore than it did back then."

Gray made a cutting gesture. I'd made him angry. That wasn't a good way to start this conversation.

I inhaled slowly for courage and then blurted out, "Last night I killed one of yours."

He nodded soberly, knowing trouble with shifters would be the only reason I'd have come here out of the blue. That or I'd needed his help. He knew me well enough to know I didn't ask for help lightly.

"His name was Chet Nimpton," I continued.

Gray didn't so much as exhale at the name. I didn't know what that meant.

"He was keeping women hostage in a basement in Jamaican Plain and blackmailing a werewolf to bring them to him. I'd have liked to find out who he was working for but he shifted and attacked me before I could get it out of him."

"He was working for the Covens," Gray told me. "He'd gone rogue a long time ago."

There were few actual rules in the Underground. One of those few was that everyone had to belong to a faction. If you didn't, you got the distinction of being considered "rogue" and could be subject to harsh punishment. Technically I was rogue. Most of the Underground thought I was some sort of witch and the witches thought I was some sort of fae. Since no one knew what I was for sure, no one could demand I join a group.

"Oh, thank the gods." I practically cried in relief upon hearing that the guy I'd killed hadn't been one of Gray's shifters any longer. Gray was one of the only people I hated disappointing. If Chet had been a golden boy among the faction I'd have felt awful.

"I wish I could tell you which Coven but I didn't know any more than that," he added. "I do know that whoever it was has a place inside the Dungeon."

I nodded. "Yeah, I've figured that much out." With a grumbling tone I added, "It's basically all that I've figured out."

Gray's head tilted a little to the right. "How'd you manage that? It took us years to track down that information."

My lips thinned because answering him required me to remember something that infuriated me. "Someone set Jim's newest construction project on fire with him still inside. I tracked the Fire witch down and...well...I did a little interrogation." Before I'd dispatched him to Hades. "He told me the order had come from 'on high'."

"Morrígan?"

We both knew the area Fire witches' high priestess fancied herself the human reincarnation of an Irish goddess. I shook my head because it hadn't been her that had given the order. "No, I don't think so. The Fire witch that did the deed only had a phone message and a hefty lump sum in his bank account to go off. He did know where the order originated from."

"The Dungeon," Gray deducted.

"Yup," I said just before a big draw on my orange soda.

"Jim's okay?"

Gray knew my father Jim Denham from when they'd both lived in upstate New York. Jim had worked with Gray's father on construction projects. As far as Gray was concerned, Jim was my biological dad. I'd never corrected his assumption because a blood bond does not a father make. Jim Denham had raised me. To me that meant he was my dad.

I nodded grimly. "He had some serious burns that I'm stealthily Healing each time I see him. But it could have been bad if he hadn't hacked his way out before the place fell on him."

Gray's gaze darkened upon hearing how bad it had been. "Did the witch say why the order had been given?"

I shook my head with a grumpy sigh. "He had no idea."

"It was probably something stupid," Gray said sourly. "Like they want to be able to buy the land cheap. Or they thought the building was an eyesore."

"Whatever the reason. Someone is going down for this." Besides the flunky that had done the actual deed. I wasn't going to risk Jim's safety now that the building project had resumed.

Gray's gaze grew determined as he caught my eye. "And lemme guess, you're going it alone."

A smirk curled the left portion of my lips. "You know me so well."

It was his turn to sigh. "You need to be careful, band girl. I...," His eyes slid away after using his personal term of endearment for me, the playful insult he'd coined during our summer working at a video store together because he thought it amusing I'd been a band geek, "...don't like to see you hurt."

"That makes two of us." I set my empty glass in front of me with a light thud. As delicately as I could manage in my linen dress I slid out from behind the table and then stood beside the table for a parting word. "Sorry to drink and run but I've got people to shake down."

Gray had already stood with me. He'd somehow managed to get himself between me and the entrance before I could stop him. This was always the worst part of seeing Grayson Dennison -- the goodbye.

I stood still for whatever he was going to do because it would make this go faster. But when he crowded my personal space I was wishing I'd tried to dart around him. His head lowered toward mine slow enough that I saw it coming. He always tried it and I always avoided it. Just before his mouth reached me I turned my head to the left.

The bastard anticipated it.

His warm lips pressed against mine. He made a deep sound in the back of his throat that I couldn't read. I was trying my damnedest to emulate a cold fish so he'd give up before I actually let myself feel what he was doing to me. Thankfully he drew back.

"See you later, Lore," he said with an expression that was half frown and half grin.

"Bye." My parting greeting was said with a flippant wave over my shoulder.

I supposed he'd let me off easy. And I wasn't talking about Chet.

Oh, I really, really hoped I could go another six months without having to see Gray Dennison again.

CHAPTER NINE

"Miss Denham," a pale-faced man who couldn't have been older than seventeen when he'd been turned greeted me with a bow of his head. "Please, come in."

I hadn't been sure I had the right house. The three-story brick mansion on Commonwealth Avenue had been rumored to be Aiden Bruce's residence in the city. I thought it a little ostentatious for a man that wasn't the lead senator in the undead Senate or one of the three rulers of Boston.

Apparently rumor was correct because I'd been ushered directly inside once I'd given my name. Aiden didn't know I was coming. I'd tried to keep it a secret even from myself to keep Kastio from interfering. Even though I was here on business, not pleasure, my guide would have given me a hard time.

The vampire led me through the large foyer and past a curved marble staircase. We entered a room with paintings so massive in scale that they were intimidating, furniture too delicate and old to actually use and a nicely roaring fire that might be a tad too warm for early May.

"Lord Bruce will be with you momentarily," the vampire said politely. "Can I get you anything?"

Briefly I toyed with the idea of asking what they had. Would vampires keep wine around on the off chance a human appeared? Maybe it wasn't an off chance. Maybe Aiden Bruce entertained human guests on a regular basis. He had to get his fix somewhere, didn't he?

"No, thank you," I answered quietly because I was aware of how much the vast room echoed.

He gestured toward the furniture I had no intention of using, "Make yourself comfortable," and then left me alone.

I stood uncomfortably near the fire wondering if this had been a good idea. I'd told myself that I needed information and that I'd owed Aiden information in return. I'd also had the thought of making certain the five women had gotten safely home. After all, he could have easily kept one for himself and no one would have been the wiser.

My eyes drifted to the nearest massive painting, half expecting to see Aiden's silver eyes peeking out from somewhere within it. The composition was of a battle outdoors on a verdant countryside. Cavalry and their sinewy horses dominated much of the painted scene. But nowhere in it was Aiden himself. Perhaps he wasn't as egotistical as I'd imagined.

I looked up at the groin-vaulted ceilings that were decorated with intricate exotic floral designs and wondered if he'd commissioned that a century ago or if he'd bought the place as is. It bothered me that I wanted to know if these things were his choices or someone else's. But I did want to know. I wanted a clue as to who Aiden Bruce really was.

I scanned the other paintings lining the walls for silver eyes. A likeness of his face would give me an idea of what he might have looked like prior to being turned.  It might be the only way I'd ever truly see him as he was meant to be.

"To what do I owe this most unexpected and immense pleasure, Miss Denham?" Aiden Bruce's buttery voice echoed within the grand space.

He'd caught me across the room peering into the third rank of a group of painted infantrymen. I despised being taken unaware even though it was exceedingly easy for a vampire to do. They could move with inhuman speed, cat-like grace and do it with unnatural silence.

A guilty blush coated my cheeks at being caught scrutinizing the painting. I hoped he wouldn't be able to see my flush from his distance. Discreetly I glanced back at him while considering many responses to his question. He was dressed in a pair of fine black trousers, a matching double-breasted waistcoat that held a shadow striped pattern, a black and silver striped tie and crisp white undershirt. Over his arm he carried the jacket that most certainly finished the three-piece suit.

His hair was shorter tonight, falling only a few inches below his shoulders, and it was silky straight. He was trying on an auburn-tinged maple color. The narrow nose of the previous night was gone in favor of something more fitting the oval face he was sporting. There was a gentle rounding of his chin instead of the square-jaws he'd been experimenting with recently. I thought this one might be his best yet because of the delectable dimple at its center. But as always, his silver irises shone brightest.

In the end I looked away so I could answer his question with the truth and not sound breathless. "I wasn't able to find out who the men last night were working for so I came to pick your brain about demon summoning."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Aiden gesture to one of the cream colored damask sofas. "Won't you sit?"

"No," I said a little too sharply before softening my voice and following up with, "Thank you."

In a soft, urging voice he said, "Please, I insist."

"I might bleed on it. I'll stand."

"You aren't bleeding."

Damn it. I forgot who was talking to. With a firm shake of my head I replied, "I'd really rather stand."

"Very well then." He began to cross the room toward me, voice even without a hint of ire. "We shall stand."

His shiny leather shoes made noise as he walked, something they hadn't done minutes earlier when he'd appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Had he floated above the ground to pull that off?

"You've a great interest in the Battle of the Boyne?" He asked in his amused voice once he'd cut the distance between us in half.

"Is that what this is?" I replied dully while staring at the painting to avoid staring at him.

"It is." He'd come to rest mere inches away from me. I could clearly see him in my peripheral vision as we both stood gazing at the broad painting.

A shrug was all the answer I could manage. His proximity was messing with my ability to think. That sweet scent of his, rather like a warm cinnamon roll with delectable icing, drew entirely naughty thoughts of what he'd taste like.

His maple hair slid to the side when his head tilted toward me. "Why would you bleed on my couch? Were you hurt last night after I left you?"

"I was hurt last night before you did," I pointed out rather than give him a straight answer.

"You weren't bleeding then."

"They had guns and one of them was a shifter," was the response I gave.

"You shouldn't have gone back inside. There was no need." His voice went sharp as if he were angry. I couldn't recall him ever becoming upset in the past.

"Sure there was," I answered as lightly as I could manage. "I got kidnappers off the streets of Boston. Speaking of which, did those girls make it home safely?"

"Is that the true reason behind your visit, Miss Denham? Have you come to search my abode for cages?"

"You can't blame me for thinking it," I said with a quick, mildly defensive tone.

"What have I done to deserve so egregious an insult twice in as many days?"

The wounded tone of voice made me glance at him to see if it were feigned. Instead of the usual half-hooded bedroom eyes I was coming to equate with him, his eyelids were folded all the way back. The slight twist of his lips to the left and the crinkling of the soft skin above his nose completed his expression. He looked legitimately irritated.

"Nothing," I admitted in all seriousness with my shoulders slumping just a hint. My attention resumed on the painting. "I'm sorry."

Aiden's head inclined slightly. "You are forgiven." But his irritation hadn't faded.

I decided to steer this conversation onto a safer path. "The women were being held, alive, in cages. Would there be a need for five women in a demon summoning?"

"There is always a need of a sacrifice in an evocation or summoning of a powerful entity. Some practitioners choose trinkets, plants, or animals." He looked off to the corner of the room as if in thought before adding, "Yes, it is entirely possible they were being kept alive for that purpose."

"Then they'll need to find five more women before they can do this."

"More than likely."

I exhaled in relief. "So I have a little bit of time to work with."

Aiden remained still as he pulverized what little relief I'd found. "In a city this size it would be little trouble to find five women who wouldn't be missed. It could be accomplished in a single night."

My eyes narrowed into fine slivers directed at the painting. I took a step away before I realized what I was doing.

In a soft voice that was somehow more menacing he declared, "I should really like to know what I've done to earn such suspicion. Are there rumors of me in the Underground I'm not privy to?"

Did that mean there were rumors he was privy to?

I shrugged in an effort to come off as unaffected by his irritation as much as to shake off the unease that was building in my shoulders. "I'm suspicious of everything. It's nothing personal."

"You're suspicious of even the Prime?"

A glance over at him showed me nothing had changed on his face. His eyebrows were still crinkled inward and his ordinarily luscious lips were quite thin.

My body turned to face him fully. "What prompted that question?"

He turned slowly to face me as well. "You met with the Prime before you came here."

It wasn't said as a question so I didn't respond to it. I wouldn't have known what to say anyway. The sun had still been out when I'd met Gray at the steakhouse so it couldn't have been Aiden himself spying on me.

"Are you suspicious of him as well?" Aiden asked again.

"I've known Gray for nine years." I tossed my hair over my shoulder, a defensive gesture that matched my tone. "He's earned the right to be at least somewhat above suspicion."

"Perseverance is what it takes?"

"It helps that Gray is a good man," I said rather than give a straight answer.

"And you believe I am not," Aiden deducted.

I didn't like being pushed into a corner so I reacted badly, which equated to speaking my mind instead of giving cryptic responses. "You are a vampire, a member of the Senate, in essence royalty among the most ruthless creatures in the country. You live in the lap of luxury with your mansion," I gestured around the room to the broad canvases and then at him, "expensive suits and servants when much of the city is struggling to keep a job. And you can't seem to decide on what face you're going to wear on any given day. How in the world do you expect anyone to trust you when these are the things you put forth?"

The vampire held my defiant gaze for what seemed like ages. In reality I suspected it was only about ten seconds. Then he gave the barest of nods. Another span passed before either of us spoke.

I was the one who broke the silence. "A shapeshifter named Chet was the ringleader of the group last night. His death was why I met with the Prime today. Chet was manipulating at least one person, Michael, the werewolf mailman for the Dungeon. Chet had Michael luring those women and bringing them in on the understanding that they wouldn't kill his captive sister if he did their bidding. Unfortunately I wasn't able to learn the identity of the real mastermind. That is all of the information I have for you."

"We appreciate all that you've done for us, Miss Denham," he said in a stiff voice. "And we'll understand if you wish to cease our agreement due to the danger involved in this matter."

My chin lifted a hint. "I didn't make any agreement with you, Mr. Bruce."

His lips quirked as if threatening to spread into a smile. "Of course you didn't, Miss Denham."

I shook my head because I didn't understand him at all. It should be refreshing to meet a man whose reactions I couldn't predict, but it wasn't. It made me feel insecure and unsafe.

"Right," I said flatly rather like the Alpha had done this morning. "Well, you have a good night...or day, or whatever it is."

"And you as well, Miss Denham. I'll see you out." He waved his arm toward the door.

"I think I can handle that much, thanks."

Aiden bowed his head. "Very well." And then he left me there in front of the painting of the Battle of the Boyne.

I shook my head, perplexed. But he had left me alone in his house. I could, in theory, wander the place. Maybe that was why he'd done it. Maybe he wanted me to know he hadn't kept a kidnap victim. I needed to get the hell out of there before I gave in to the wish to wander his home.

I stepped onto the stone porch and contemplated what to do now that I had no leads. I needed to talk to the werewolf Michael. And I was going to have to go through the Alpha to do it. It would be another wonderful night in Boston.

CHAPTER TEN

A pair of footsteps fell into place behind me after I'd hopped onto the sidewalk in front of the row house I claimed as home. The instinctual part of me knew those weren't benign steps. Someone was following me. I was so not in the mood for this.

I whirled around, half expecting to find vampires standing there, instead, I found two werewolves. Dominick held his wolf by the collar just inside the cone of light the streetlamp cast behind me cast. Their respective poses accounted for the slight dragging I'd heard on the part of one of them.

"We gotta talk," the Alpha announced.

Even though they were just the two people I needed to speak with, the fact that they were near my personal residence made me sigh in irritation. "Okay, I'll meet you someplace public."

Dominick quickly shook his head of messy hair. "We gotta talk in private."

"I suppose you think I'm going to let you..."

Rather than wait for me to finish speaking, Dominick marched Michael toward the row house's door.

"I miss the days of slobbering monsters," I muttered under my breath. "Oh wait, these guys probably slobber too."

"I don't slobber," Dominick said gruffly when I wedged beside them to get to the exterior doorknob.

I couldn't muster the effort to feel embarrassed that he'd heard me. The Alpha would get a nice big chunk of my mind for bringing his wolf to my home. I'd probably have to move now because the mailman would surely tell whomever he was working for where I resided. I liked my apartment. It was close to work. Maybe I'd make the Alpha pay some sort of restitution for this.

Restitution ideas were at the forefront of my thoughts as I unlocked my apartment door. The guys followed me inside. Dominick maneuvered Michael onto the soiled towels on my sofa. The wolf made a disgusted face at the blood and popped up only to be shoved down again by the firm hand on his shoulder.

"You can sit in her blood. She earned it cleanin' up after your mess," Dominick snarled at him in a very uncharitable voice.

The Alpha lifted his head once he was certain Michael wasn't going to stand. His mahogany eyes went up and down the length of me. I folded my arms in front of my chest beneath the obvious leering.

"You're lookin'...better, Laura," he said in a neutral tone. "How are those gunshot wounds?"

"They aren't bleeding anymore," I admitted quickly before jumping to the next, far more important matter. "What do you want?"

The Alpha blinked at me for a moment before responding. "Someone tried to set Michael on fire when I was talkin' to him earlier."

"Someone did set me on fire," Michael grumbled petulantly.

"They set your condo on fire," the Alpha corrected with a mere glance down.

I tapped my fingers against my arm impatiently. "And why is this my problem?"

It was Michael who answered with a snapping tone worthy of the sulkiest teenager. "They set my condo on fire because they know I sent you."

"And who is they?"

"I don't know."

My teeth set because the Alpha didn't budge. That meant Michael hadn't lied to me. I'd really hoped he knew something, anything that could help me track down who was the power behind the attacks, the kidnappings and the demon summoning.

"Michael needs a place to stay," the Alpha informed me while I silently lamented my lack of information, "And as punishment for shootin' him six times, you're gonna take him in."

"Oh, am I?" I drawled in a deceptively calm voice. Inside I silently raged against his presumption.

The Alpha continued, heedless to my anger, "And for his punishment for gettin' you into the mess with the kidnapped women, he's gonna be your live-in servant when he isn't on the clock at the post office."

"I like my hired help to have an IQ higher than their age." And Michael didn't look a day over thirty.

Michael shot a glare at me that told me he'd understood the insult.

I ignored it to fix his Alpha with a dark look. "You realize I'm only going to shoot him six more times if you force him on me like this." I shook my head in disgust. My hand went out toward the door. "And he's going to run off to whoever he's really working for to tell them exactly where I live. Thanks a load for putting my ass in more danger than it already was."

"Michael's sister called him last night," Dominick said instead of commenting on my threat. "She said she'd been in Cancun with a man she'd met last week and that she was sorry to worry him."

What the hell was going on? Had Michael been duped or had his sister really been kidnapped? I didn't know what story to believe now.

"So we went to see her." He swatted Michael across the head, I assumed to get him to talk.

Michael gave his Alpha a dirty look before he relayed the information he was most certainly meant to give. "She was thin, looked like she'd lost twenty pounds. And she looked exhausted. I checked the house out for luggage. There wasn't any. Her suitcases were still in storage. But she believed what she'd said." In other words, they weren't able to sense lies on her.

What if there was another explanation for this? I couldn't help but ask, "Did she say what the guy looked like? Or what his name was?"

"She said his name was Bruce."

I breathed in relief. "She must have been one of the ones I released last night." I bet I could guess which one she was. "A vampire helped the women I freed home. He must have altered their memory of the incident to keep them from blabbing to the cops about me."

Michael shot his feet, gestured angrily and stared daggers at my head. "You let a vampire near my sister?"

To which I shot back, "You let your sister get kidnapped?"

"Which vampire?" Dominick's voice lingered on the three syllables for far longer than was required.

There seemed no reason to hide the truth from them so I easily replied, "Aiden Bruce."

His eyebrows immediately jumped upward. "Bruce? That the Senate delegate from New York?"

I nodded reluctantly because I was uneasy with my association with the guy.

The Alpha's eyes crinkled suspiciously. "What was a senator doing helpin' you out?"

"You'd have to ask him," I answered with a shrug.

My flippant answer must have pissed the Alpha off because his expression darkened to match Michael's. "So you didn't ask him to mind rape those women to keep your hide squeaky clean?"

Mind rape, now that was a little on the crude side, wasn't it? But I suppose if I'd learned Aiden had messed with my memory, crude words would be the mildest of things I'd toss out. The way that Dominick glowered at me put me on the defensive. "I didn't ask him to do anything at all. I work alone. Remember? Speaking of..." My voice trailed off while my brain formed an idea. I focused on Michael, "If you were responsible for luring women in, who lured your sister?"

"Thanks to the vampire, we'll never know," Dominick snapped.

"He altered the memory. Maybe he can get it back," I said in a hopeful voice that wasn't at all like me. What I hadn't taken into account was that I'd have to see Aiden again so soon. I really needed to get a phone number for him so I could stop seeing him in person. Our discussions would be far less dangerous conducted over the phone.

Michael shook his head so violently that I thought it might fall off his neck. "I'm not lettin' a vampire near my sister again."

"If you don't, you risk her getting taken again," I pointed out sensibly.

"Not if she stays here too," Michael replied with a malicious smile.

That was the worst idea I'd ever heard. "And she'll be my what? Stylist?" I snorted in disgust. "I've got a better idea." I pointed at the wolf and then toward the door. "How about you stay with her, keep her safe? You can handle one little kidnapper, can't you?"

"Michael hasn't been a werewolf for long," Dominick reminded me.

Backed into a corner once more, I let them have it. "I don't care if he was infected yesterday! I'm not letting them stay here. I don't deserve any of this shit. Your wolf got in with the wrong crowd." I jabbed an angry finger at the guy. "As far as I'm concerned that is your problem, Alpha."

"Dominick," he snapped.

"I don't you know well enough to call you that," I snapped right back, daring him to get angry.

"You need information to track these people down for your investigation," the Alpha began. I didn't like the path he was going down because I knew I couldn't argue with it. "And we need to track them down to make sure Michael and his sister are safe. So as much as we all dislike it, this is how it has to be. We're gonna bring Michelle here and you're gonna convince the senator to join us."

There was no way in hell that I was inviting Aiden Bruce to my apartment. In the first place I wouldn't even know how to go about asking him. I'd already insulted him once tonight and he had to have more important things to do than bother with me. "Has it occurred to you that maybe the senator has -- I don't know -- Senate business that will keep him too busy to do your bidding?"

The Alpha had a ready answer for that. "The senator found time to wipe her memory and replace it with a new one. Either she had some incriminatin' evidence in her head he doesn't want us to know about or he really wanted to make sure you weren't brought up on murder charges. So you get him here so we can find out which one it is."

It had been in the back of my head but I hadn't wanted to think it. Aiden had mysteriously found me in Jamaican Plain. He could be the mastermind I was looking for or perhaps working for that person. For all I knew, he'd volunteered me to investigate this simply to appease the local rulers because he didn't expect me to find anything. And sure, he'd given me the gun that had killed the kidnappers, but he'd also tried to get me to stop investigating. Maybe I'd stumbled on something a little too close to home for him.

"I don't want him in my apartment," I admitted rather than argue. "I'll set it up for tomorrow night at the brownstone. You remember how to get there don't you, Mailman?"

"His name is Michael," the Alpha informed me coolly.

"Yeah, whatever." I gestured dismissively to shut him up before pointing my index finger at Michael. "He finds someplace else to sleep. I'm still healing from that blow-up last night and I can't sleep with another person in the house."

It was a quirk of mine that had been another reason Zeno and I had been on again off again for as long as we had. If I'd been able to sleep with him in the same apartment, hotel room or even at his place, we might still be together. It didn't help that I tended to get cranky when I didn't sleep.

Okay, maybe it was a little more serious than a quirk.

"You can't sleep with another person in the house?" Dominick repeated in disbelief.

This wasn't something I was going to talk about with them. I turned on my heel to head to the refrigerator. Hopefully they'd get the hint. I'd not had time to pick anything up at the store yet so there was nothing to look at inside it but random condiments and a half a jug of spoiled milk.

"What time tomorrow night?"

The Alpha hadn't pushed me to answer him nor was he arguing that his wolf should stay. It surprised me enough to turn around. They both watched me with irritated expressions but that was nothing new.

"I don't know," I answered. "I'll shoot for ten. That should give him time to wake up, ready and get there after the sun sets. I can call you when I know for sure if you want to leave your phone number." I gestured to the pad of yellow sticky notes next to my home phone.

"Yeah, okay."

And surprisingly that was all there was to the conversation. The Alpha scribbled his phone number on the top sticky note, stuck it to my phone's handset and then left me alone with a murmured parting greeting. I was cautiously optimistic about how that had gone. Anything greater than that and I knew I'd be risking a jinx.

"Hey, jerk!" Jim's teeth spread into a blinding white smile that popped against his darkly tanned skin.

Being called a "jerk" would probably offend most people but it was my father's term of endearment for me. He'd seen the movie with Steve Martin years ago and had been calling me that ever since. It didn't faze me now. At some point I'd have to rent the movie and find out what exactly I'd been compared to.

He started across the dirt yard littered with metal shrapnel and random construction debris toward me. The pace he moved at was slower than usual. But his smile was as broad as ever. "Jim of the indomitable spirit" should be his nickname. He'd survived car crashes, burns and above all marriage to my mother.

I let him do the hugging because I couldn't remember exactly where his burns were located. But as he squeezed me I set my hand to his bare arm to stealthily Heal him. It wasn't so much that he'd notice, but enough that it would only be a few more weeks before he'd be good as new.

"I brought you lunch," I said with smile when he pulled back.

"You didn't have to do that." Jim looked down at the bag of submarine sandwiches in my hand with what looked to be suspicion. "You know, I'm starting to get the feeling that these visits aren't just because I nearly died. You're trying to work up to tell me something bad, aren't you?"

Wow. How to answer that one? No, Dad, I'm secretly Healing you with the power my real father gave me? Yeah, that would go over real well.

"Lydia get remarried again?"

I snapped out of my internal monologue at his calm question. Lydia Stevens was my mother and she'd been married, oh, let's see, was it five or six times now? I had trouble remembering. Part of that was that she'd stopped telling me when she did it now because she knew I didn't agree with the idea of marriage.

"If she did, she didn't tell me," I answered Jim with a shrug meant to be flippant. It probably looked jerky and annoyed. "I haven't heard from her in a while."

Jim's sandy eyebrows lifted at me. "She lives thirty miles up the coast and you haven't heard from her? You heard from me more than that when I lived in Rochester."

"Yeah, well, it's Lydia. Why are you surprised?" I shrugged lightly though my voice was edged in irritation because I knew he was right.

His jaw tightened but he answered with, "I don't know."

I knew he still loved her. It drove me mad because he was too good for her. When it came to Lydia I thought my ordinarily intelligent dad might be a little stupid. Even when he was dating other women he'd still asked me how Lydia was doing every time I saw him. I wondered if he'd run back to her if she crooked her little finger. Probably.

Maybe my mother was secretly a succubus. That would explain all her marriages, beaus and illicit affairs. A supernatural answer would actually make me feel better about the idiocy of the male species.

Jim and I settled onto a bench on the outskirts of the construction site. My eyes scanned over the skeleton of metal beams for the signs of the fire. I didn't understand how he could come back here after what had happened. He was a foreman at B&K Construction. He could have asked to be reassigned to one of their countless other projects. Considering he'd nearly died in a fire meant to destroy the place, I thought they'd have switched him out in a heartbeat rather than risk a lawsuit over damage to his mental health.

But no, Jim Denham sat tearing into his steak and cheese sub with only the usual shadow of doubt in his small brown eyes. He glanced at me to smile. I felt a flutter of unease in my stomach.

Gods, I would be hurt, truly hurt, if he died. He felt like the only family I had, which was ironic considering we shared no blood bond at all. Someone was going to pay for what they did to him.

I bit into my own steak and cheese sub while he told me about a surprise phone call he'd gotten from his brother. As he talked I wondered what features of his I would have claimed if he had been my real father. Would I have the nose that was far too wide? Or maybe his square-shaped head and tiny chin? Would those be better than the plain features I did have? At least they would be unique. I was so generic it was painful.

During our parting hug he told me to say hello to my mother when I spoke to her next. I nodded mutely while sending a little more Healing energy into him. As I pulled away with a last smile I thought how much I wished Lydia were a hurt I could Heal because she was surely as toxic as any disease.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Aiden knocked on the brownstone door at exactly ten o'clock. I'd been gnawing on a fingernail in the furnished lobby, contemplating how I was going to afford the property taxes on the place the next time they came around. I called out rather than answer the door myself.

As he walked into the room my eyes automatically went to the vampire's face to see what he'd look like today. It, of course, was a different visage tonight than the previous. This was perhaps his best to date. A seemingly perfect nose pointed the way to his luscious, ghostly gray lips. The rounded mound of a chin had a dimple at the center that was at odds with his otherwise strong jaw line. I could see faint pink scars along his right cheek but it didn't detract from the beauty of his features. I glanced away to hide any pleasure that might be in my eyes from how attractive he was.

He'd been surprisingly casual in his clothing choice tonight. The blue polo shirt, black pants and black leather shoes he wore seemed a little too ordinary for him. Maybe it was the unfashionably long chestnut hair he'd pulled back with elastic at the base of his neck or his aristocratic appearance but I thought he'd look better in a tuxedo or frock coat.

"Am I late?" He glanced around the empty lobby. "You did say ten o'clock, didn't you?"

"Yeah. You're fine." Too fine actually. I swallowed down the uneasy thought so I could add, "The others aren't here yet."

He nodded then looked around once more. "You haven't changed a thing."

"I barely use it." I shrugged. "It's going to cost me enough to pay the property taxes. I'm not wasting money on redecorating."

Dominick burst through the double glass doors without knocking. Michael shuffled behind him and, of course, the girl that had sold me out in the pound-for-women trailed them. She didn't instantly recognize me but I thought her expression had soured. Maybe her subconscious remembered my insults.

The Alpha slowed several feet away with a wary eye trained on Aiden. His trio made the final point of our isosceles triangle. It felt like we were about to battle. I really hoped it didn't come to that.

"Bruce?"

My attention switched to the wolf's bitchy sister. She tried to break free of Michael's grip to go to Aiden. The brightness of her smile and glimmer in her eyes could be mistaken for nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure. She was ecstatic to see the vampire.

Aiden's head turned toward her slowly. He didn't answer her, merely closing his eyelids in a leisurely blink.

"Let go," she hissed at her brother just before giving him an impressive shove.

She was across the room two seconds later, sliding her arms over Aiden's polo-clad shoulders to pull him against her twig-like body. He remained still beneath her movements. There was no expression on his face. That alone was eerie but she didn't seem to notice as her lips clamped over his for what would have been open-mouthed kiss if Aiden had allowed it. He didn't step backward until she'd finished her cordial greeting.

I desperately tried to ignore the burn of anger in my gut. Michael had less luck than I did because his Alpha's firm grip was the only thing that kept him from foolishly attacking a powerful undead senator.

"Get your hands off my sister," Michael ordered in a remarkably savage growl.

"My hands aren't on your sister," Aiden replied in a neutral tone. And they hadn't been, at all. She'd done enough touching for them both.

"Make her remember what really happened," the wolf demanded.

Aiden turned his face toward me. The unreadable expression was still affixed to it. "This is the woman whose memory you wish to retrieve?"

I nodded rather than speak because I wasn't certain I could hide the irritation in my voice. When he'd called me last night, after I'd left my information with the young man at his house, he'd been uncertain he could get the memory back but had been willing to try. From what I could see now, I wondered if this was more a case of him not wanting to get the memory back. What if he'd wiped her mind to cover up something awful he'd done after I'd freed her? Or perhaps the Alpha was right. Aiden could very well be the one I was looking for.

It just didn't add up. Why would the vampire save my life multiple times only to try to kill my dad? And then why would he send me on a wild goose chase? Could misdirection really be the answer to all of this?

"What is your name?" Aiden asked in a voice so soft I almost didn't hear it.

Her expression twisted into something unattractive. I thought maybe it was her disgusted look. "You know my name. You were screaming it all week."

My teeth set tightly within my mouth as I looked away. What the hell was wrong with me? I could be standing feet away from the man that nearly had Jim charred and I was angry that another woman thought she'd had sex with him.

"Please say it," his soft voice commanded.

"Michelle," she practically snapped.

"Michelle, please concentrate on my eyes. I'm going to touch your arms, like this."

I didn't watch, didn't want to know what was going on between them. All I wanted to know was who had kidnapped Michelle.

"You can touch me any..." Her voice trailed off without finishing the statement.

"Move with me back through your memory, Michelle. Beyond Cancun, there was a cage. Do you remember?"

Michelle choked suddenly on a sob. "Yes."

"Who put you there, Michelle?"

"A girl I met at yoga class," Michelle answered with a hiccup. "She burnt me when she shook my hand and told me she'd do worse if I didn't go with her."

"Another Fire witch," the werewolf Alpha deducted.

I'd almost forgotten he was still in the room. Aiden had a knack for drawing my full attention to him. I wished it wasn't the case because I didn't want to be focused on him right now. Oh, who was I kidding? I didn't want to be focused on him ever. It was already too hard to ignore him.

Motion beside me seemed to say the Alpha had turned. I glanced up to see that he now faced me. "We need to talk to Morrígan," he announced.

"I hope you mean you and the mailman," I replied with a deep frown creasing my face.

A glance to the side showed me that Michelle stood glassy-eyed and dazed. I wasn't certain she heard anything we said. That was a really good thing.

"No," the Alpha answered with what I feared he would.

I shook my head rapidly, my pitch lifting in agitation. "She's the last person I want to see."

"She's probably the only lead we've got right now. We have to see her," the Alpha insisted.

He was right. Morrígan would know all of the Fire witches in the entire state and more, even the ones that weren't part of the covens she oversaw.

"Fine," I said. "I'll go talk to her by myself."

"No," Dominick argued. "I'm comin' too. They tried to kill one of my wolves and they kidnapped his sister."

"I remember what they did. But I'm going alone." I gave him a firm look before enunciating the words clearly, "This isn't negotiable."

He snorted like an angry animal. And maybe he was. "How do I know you're not the brains behind this whole thing?"

That question was actually a little offensive. In a low, sharp voice I retorted, "Because I'm the one that got my ass handed to me six ways from Sunday for rescuing your wolf's sister in the first place."

The Alpha's expression softened momentarily before it went hard again. "I'm goin' with you."

"No. You aren't, Alpha."

His eyes flared a split second before he pounced at me. I had my gun out and aimed beneath his chin in time to keep him from doing more than grabbing my shoulders. "Don't. You. Move," I ordered with a sharp jab of the barrel into the scruffy skin of his unshaved chin.

"Let her go." I hardly recognized the ordinarily smooth voice of Aiden Bruce beneath the furious demand.

The Alpha unwisely ignored him. "I told you I didn't want to be called that."

"And I told you I didn't know..."

He shocked me by kissing me. It was a quick, dirty affair done with a loaded gun pressed between us. I was acutely aware of my finger beside the trigger and how dangerous this was. But the fact that it was actually sexy stopped me from following through with the threat I'd made earlier. It helped that Dominick kissed like a man whose sole aim in life was to make his partner weak-kneed. And I was.

He pulled back to look down at me with a heavy-lidded gaze. He'd not been an unaffected party in this. I took comfort in that.

"Do you know me well enough now?" He asked in a gravelly voice that made me want to touch his throat.

Thanks to my properly muddled brain it took me a second to understand what he'd asked me. But once I'd figured it out my lips twisted to the left. "No."

He stepped forward to start another round of getting to know each other. I'd been about to shove him with the barrel of the gun when he was wrenched backward in a blurring motion.

"I said let her go," Aiden growled deep within his throat.

I saw a look on the vampire's face I'd never seen before, it was pure malice. His chestnut eyebrows had drawn tightly together, the silver irises had a ring of red surrounding them and his sharpened canines were bared in a snarling sneer. If he'd ever looked at me that way I'd have shot him. My hand curled around my gun in its home in my holster anyway.

The Alpha glanced between the two of us without moving. I was thankful that he hadn't tried to grab me again because I wouldn't have known which of the two of them to restrain. But the resentful gleam in the wolf leader's eye concerned me.

"Why did you alter Michelle's memories?" He demanded of the vampire as if he had the right to. When he got no answer back, the Alpha asked another question, "Why did you help Laura?"

"I owe you nothing, wolf," Aiden replied in a low voice that sounded threatening to my ears.

Dominick couldn't leave well enough alone. No, he had to start shit with yet another person. His hairy finger poked toward the vampire. "You're one of her suspects now, you know. She thinks maybe you're the one that kidnapped these women."

Aiden's eyes were the only part of him that moved. They slid to the left to look at me. The red ring quickly faded and his canines retracted. I felt the heavy weight of that gaze like a blast of hot air.

"I altered the memories of the women to keep Miss Denham safe from the authorities," the vampire answered him while holding my eyes.

"Why?" The Alpha pressed.

"She couldn't continue her investigation if she were incarcerated."

"What investigation?"

Aiden's gaze pulled away from me to fix the Alpha with a dead-eyed stare. "You presume much, wolf."

Apparently that stare unnerved the Alpha as much as it did me because Dominick focused his attention back on me. "We need to talk to Morrígan. I can probably get a meetin' with her tomorrow afternoon."

I opened my mouth to tell him I was busy then but Aiden beat me to the punch. "I'll set the meeting up for after dusk tomorrow. That is if you are available, Miss Denham?"

Oh no. Aiden was trying to wiggle his way into our investigation party now too. My head shook far too rapidly. "No more people on this. It's just going to be me and..."

"It isn't negotiable." Aiden used my phrase against me.

I glared at him. "I thought you weren't supposed to..."

Aiden made a gesture for silence with a meaningful look leveled at the Alpha. I let my eyebrows drift upward but clamped my mouth shut.

"Is there any additional information you need out of her?" Aiden asked with a flick of his finger aimed at Michelle.

After a moment of thought I came up with an answer. "If she saw anyone other than the guy in the tracksuit, the Rhinos, Chet or the Fire witch that brought her in."

Aiden gave a small nod before crossing the room to stand in front of the glassy-eyed woman. He took her forearms in his hands, lowered his head to meet her gaze and then spoke in that soft voice. "Michelle, I need to know if you can remember any other people besides the girl from yoga."

The girl rattled off the descriptions of every prisoner that had been taken, each Rhino that had visited, Tracksuit and Chet. She'd described all of the individuals I'd already seen. We needed to get that Fire witch.

"What memory should I give her to explain this?" Aiden was looking at me but the question really should have been given to Michael.

I darted a glance to the mailman but the wolf surprised me by keeping silent. That meant I had to come up with something. "Um, maybe she was camping with her brother?" I glanced at Michael again to make sure that was okay. He frowned but nodded anyway.

"You've been camping with your brother for the past week, Michelle. It was a spur of the moment affair. You both enjoyed yourself but now you need to rest for a few days. You'll awaken in the car in a half hour, remembering nothing of this place, these people, or me. Do you understand, Michelle?"

"Yes," she replied sluggishly.

If I'd needed proof of Aiden's inhumanity, I was just given it in spades. What he could do to people was wrong. No one ought to be able to have the ability to overwrite memories. Worse was how he'd chosen to use it originally.

Did each of those five women believe they'd spent a hot week in Cancun with him? Would he take the opportunity to follow up with them or would he leave them believing their hedonistic getaway partner had blown them off after he'd gotten what he'd wanted? I wasn't sure which would upset me more.

"Don't ever come near my sister again," Michael said in an icy voice as he guided Michelle to the lobby door.

Aiden didn't bother to acknowledge him. His attention was once again focused on me. He inhaled intentionally through his well-formed nose though he didn't need the air to survive. His usually lush lips were thin. I didn't need to see the darkened silver eyes to know he wasn't happy.

I turned away from him to fix the Alpha with my own frown. "Things might get..." my voice stalled as I tried to think of an appropriate way to word this, "weird tomorrow with Morrígan. I need to know that you aren't going to try anything heroic."

Dominick started to say, "I'm not gonna let anyone get hurt..."

My hand waved at him impatiently. "You're not coming unless you give me your word on this."

"Fine," he snapped. "I won't try anythin' heroic. But what about him?" The Alpha jabbed a finger at Aiden. "He gets to play Mr. Hero?"

"No," I shook my head. "No one plays hero tomorrow."

"I won't give my word on that," Aiden informed me imperiously.

"Yes, you will," I argued. "Or I'll have to invite the Alpha over to my place tomorrow afternoon to discuss how we can go about keeping you from doing something stupid."

I saw Aiden's jaw tighten. For once I'd gotten a predictable response out of him. I'd also proved that he didn't like the idea of me being alone with the Alpha. I wasn't sure how to take that.

"Very well then," the vampire responded stiffly. "No one plays hero."

Satisfied for now, I started for the lobby door to see them out. The guys followed me without protest. Neither seemed to want to leave first. Another baring of vampire teeth cowed the Alpha enough that he walked out with a grunt.

Aiden turned back as if he wanted to begin a brand new discussion. My chin lifted to the left, my arms folded in front of my chest and my gaze hardened. It was my closed-off pose and I hoped the meaning carried off without my having to actually tell him to get lost.

He stared at me for a silent moment then spoke with a breathy parting phrase and a slight flourish, "Until tomorrow, Miss Denham."

I hadn't needed more proof that tomorrow was going to suck but there it was.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Absolutely ridiculous was what I felt clad in the silly leather strap cat suit getup. I'd hidden it beneath my black raincoat to avoid undue embarrassment from the neighbors' reactions. Once again my hair was styled up high, my feet were three inches off the ground within my platform boots and I'd even put make-up on in the form of dark kohl eyeliner around my hazel green eyes and a smoky shadow above. The only thing missing was the slutty red lipstick and that was wedged in between my car's passenger seat cushions.

Aiden Bruce and the Alpha werewolf stood beside their respective vehicles in the parking lot behind my brownstone when I pulled in. We'd agreed to meet and drive together. Dominick had arrived in a Jeep. It was the kind with the mud proudly stuck all over the sides. He even had the naked lady mud flaps on the back. I was understandably disgusted.

Like the owner, Aiden's ride was sleek and expensive. The silver Audi R8 almost eclipsed his handsome presence. But the fact that his face was the same two nights in a row caught my attention and kept it. He'd maintained the same strong jaw with the delicious dimple in the center of his chin. That same nose that begged to be touched bisected his handsome face. And those ghostly gray luscious lips just demanded to be kissed. Even the long chestnut hair remained from when I'd seen him last.

I had to physically force my attention to the visor mirror with a hand on my own chin. My thoughts were on what he'd been wearing as I applied the lipstick. It was a business casual outfit again, a soft black sweater that wouldn't and a pair of charcoal pants. Aiden had apparently taken my complaints to heart. I didn't know if I should feel flattered or worried.

After my lipstick was set I got out of the car with the black coat wrapped tightly around me. Aiden's eyebrow lifted at me in question. I ignored it as well as the intrigued expression on the Alpha's face.

Dominick opened his mouth to comment, "That's a different look..."

I interrupted the wolf sharply, "Who's driving?"

"My car can only comfortably fit two," Aiden said with a frown aimed at the wolf.

"I can fit four," Dominick said. But I had no doubt the back would smell like dead animal or stinky gym socks.

The vampire gave the Jeep a once over and apparently pronounced it as lacking because his attention immediately moved to my car and then to me. "Your car can seat us all comfortably. Will you be kind enough to drive us, Miss Denham?"

"I'm not cleaning up the back seat," I said in answer on my way back to my English racing green colored Mini Cooper. I liked my car. It was small and relatively easy to parallel park. Those were musts in downtown Boston.

They both went for the passenger side. I wasn't interested in there being a fight for who got to sit up front with me so I found a coin in my pocket. "Heads the Alpha sits up front first, tails Mr. Bruce does." A quick flip of the quarter onto the back of my hand merited a view of the iconic profile of President Washington. "It's heads."

"So what's with the hair?" The Alpha said upon sliding into the seat next to me. "Not that I don't like it."

I pointedly ignored him long after I'd completed the left turn out of the driveway, a little too aware of Aiden behind him. I could even smell that sweet smell of his over the Alpha's cologne.

"And the red lipstick? You weren't wearing anythin' that hot when you were pickin' Michael up at the bar." He shot a sidelong glance at me that was skeptical, "Unless you went home to change after you saw me."

He thought my go-go hair, red lips and black raincoat were hot? He was in for a surprise when I took off the coat.

Dominick turned abruptly enough in the seat toward me that he threw the car slightly off balance. His pitch lifted a hair. "I'm gettin' the silent treatment now?"

"I don't want to talk about my appearance," I told him stiffly. "In fact, I don't really want to talk at all. So unless its critical that you tell me something prior to our meeting, please just hold all the comments until after." And I knew there would be a ton of those.

"You'll need to get on the interstate here," Aiden said from the back seat. Apparently he thought I needed directions. Well, I'd let him play navigator if it made him feel useful.

It was a good thing that he had because he'd guided me through the worst of the city's slow downs with the ease of a cab driver. We arrived at Morrígan's stronghold, an impressive stone building on the outskirts near Salem, twenty minutes later. I turned the key, pulled it out of the ignition and immediately felt like throwing up.

The vampire's velvety voice spoke up in an instant. "What is wrong?"

I glanced back at Aiden in confusion. "What?"

"Your pulse skyrocketed the moment we pulled in here," he stated while his eyes scanned my face for the answer I wasn't giving.

"It's nothing," I replied as soon as I'd faced forward again. How I wished that were the truth.

I'd reached for the door handle when the Alpha grabbed my arm. "You're lyin'. What's wrong?"

They were really starting to piss me off. "I told you I didn't want to talk until this was over. Now let go."

"Let her go," Aiden parroted from the back seat when the Alpha didn't immediately release my arm.

The wolf twisted in the seat again, this time to snap a defensive question at the vampire. "You wanna go in there with her freaked and lyin' about it?"

"I trust Miss Denham's judgment implicitly," Aiden replied just before he slipped out of the car.

"'Implicitly'," Dominick snapped mockingly while he did as well, "You sound like a fucking stuck up Brit."

"There is a very good reason for that."

Their fighting gave me something benign to concentrate on. And it was enough to get me out of the car. I yanked the coat off before I could come to my senses and just go home.

"Jesus Christ," the wolf exclaimed close on my heels as I stalked toward the stronghold. "What the hell?"

I ignored him because if I stopped now, I would never go through with this. We needed information and Morrígan might have it.

Two men clad in leather trousers flanked the doors. They bowed their heads at me as I neared. I inclined my head in greeting without stopping.

Of the people we passed on our way into the inner sanctum the two up front were the most dressed. I thanked gods the outfit I wore covered everything important. Hell, it covered everything. Every inch of skin from my neck to my feet was coated in leather with the exception of my hands.

I stopped outside the hall that held the sanctum's entrance. Any closer than this and there would be no turning back. What was I thinking coming here?

"Whoa. What?" Dominick exclaimed upon nearly bowling me over thanks to my abrupt gesture. "Why did you stop?"

I shook my head without answering. I couldn't look at either of them. Not now. My heart was pounding too wildly within my chest to be able to speak.

Someone crowded behind me. A half second later Aiden's voice and chilly breath slid into my ear, "We can go. We don't have to do this."

It was surprisingly calming to hear him and to know he was with me. I allowed myself four-seconds to revel in that calm before I recalled that I couldn't, wouldn't, let Aiden get to me like that.

And then I remembered where I was.

"No. She knows I'm here," I said in a shaky whisper.

"Miss Denham, what...?"

"Hold your questions until later," I reminded him with my index finger lifted vertically.

The order helped me get my game face on. I was Laura Denham, a Diakonos and the entity they'd labeled the Black Death. I could do this. I swept around the corner to stop in front of Morrígan's personal guard who awaited us at the sanctum's entrance.

He bowed to me from the waist and remained folded for two full seconds before he stood again. "Her holiness has been expecting you," his relatively ordinary voice informed me.

Oh, I'll just bet she had been.

He opened the door in an achingly slow gesture when all I'd wanted to do was rip the bandage from the wound. "Go on in."

I took one long steadying breath that was painfully ragged. Then I walked forward with as much grace as I could manage and hoped I didn't fall on my face. My own guard of sorts trailed behind me into the chamber.

Morrígan was a fan of drama and her sanctum reflected it. The interior was crafted of dark heavy stone as rough to the touch as it was to look at. In contrast, her soft gray granite floor was polished to a high sheen that begged to be caressed. As the high priestess over the Fire witch covens in the Northeast, she preferred candle and torchlight to modern electricity. Medieval sconces had been fit into each of her twelve stone support columns and a heavy iron torch hung from them. On either side of the wide room stood a grand fireplace with a roaring fire. Yet still it was too chilly for the witches that were littered about in ridiculous black leather hot pants and tiny bikinis.

But I'd already seen all this. My eyes were fixed in trepidation on the high priestess herself. Morrígan stood to the right of her dais, speaking with a lovely blond in a bikini. The priestess's own outfit was a sharp contrast to the rest of those gathered. She wore a gauzy cream gown that pooled at her feet in a delicate drapery of folds. Her pale skin wasn't darkened any by the lightness of the fabric covering her. If anything it sharpened how pearlescent her skin was. The one trait she shared with her brethren was the corset made of cream-colored leather cinching her waist.

Her glorious black hair was a mass of soft waves that fell to her waist. She knew it was one of her best features and almost always accentuated it with the barest of hints. Tonight it was a cream ribbon tied as a headband.

She turned toward us with an almost alien grace that continued as she walked to the center of the dais. The Alpha sucked in a quick breath of air. I glanced at him to find his eyes focused far below the priestess's face. He no doubt noticed the features her corset had lifted. I didn't know how he could focus on those when it was the exotic fusion of features and those eyes that ensnared a person.

When I turned back I felt the full weight of her gaze on me. The priestess had the biggest, bluest eyes I'd ever seen on a person. They practically glowed in the firelight. Perhaps they truly did glow.

My stomach did a flip that I desperately tried to ignore. It helped that she'd stopped on the second stair, feet in front of us.

"Ms. Denham," she purred in a contralto voice that was the perfect mix of roughness and silk. I could easily imagine her taking center stage in a grand old opera house to belt out a heartrending lament.

I nodded my head at her politely. "Priestess."

"I see you've worn my gift."

"You gave me little choice," I reminded her. But I made the mistake of looking up in time to see her gaze run up and down the length of me.

She made a sound of contemplation at that. "It is even better than I had imagined it would be."

Discussion of the leather outfit she'd given me was not why I'd come here. I quickly changed the subject with a gesture behind me. "Allow me to introduce..."

Morrígan interrupted me as if I'd said nothing. "And the choice of shoes, I must say, I approve."

Determined to get us off this path I said, "I believe you already know..."

Again I was interrupted. "Now that you've worn your gift, I can give you the pieces you are missing." She started down the stairs past me, the warm smell of heather and sunlit glades floating to my nose. "Come, Ms. Denham, they are in my study. You may come along as well, senator and Alpha."

I opened my mouth to argue that we weren't here for gifts but decided against it when I saw the pleased smile that had spread across her lips. She needed to be in a good mood if I was going to get information out of her. But the question was, was the information worth more gifts like this ridiculous costume?

Morrígan held an arm out to me once she'd neared. I let her set my hand atop her forearm and tried to ignore the unnatural heat of her skin. At the sanctum's entrance her personal guard fell into step behind her, cutting me off from my companions. I thought perhaps they'd done it on purpose.

"I trust you've been busy," Morrígan said lightly.

"Yes, very busy." It was a partial lie. This week I'd been busy but before that things had been status quo.

"You will be playing in the Chamber Tea." Most people would have added "won't you?" or worded it like a question. Morrígan didn't do questions. It was a particularly strange quirk of hers.

"Yes," I admitted. This was what I disliked most, small talk that spilled over into my mundane life.

"Good," she smiled and patted my arm.

As we took the first corner I felt a strange sensation low in my body. It was a vibration in the most inconvenient of places that started softly but quickly grew until I damn near toppled over with a sharp gasp. I leaned against the nearest wall. My cheeks had flushed pink and my temperature had risen enough that I no longer noticed the cool stone walls pressing in toward us.

"Miss Denham!" Aiden shoved Morrígan's guard out of the way to get to me. "Are you well?"

"I'm...fine," I said while catching my breath and attempting a weak smile for him now that the sensation had ceased.

The sharp creases on either side of his nose and narrowed eyes seemed to be evidence that he didn't believe me. But we didn't have time to get into an argument now. I let him use his grip on my elbow to help me upright.

"Better," Morrígan said with a flutter of her dusty lashes and her arm held out, an invitation for me to join her.

I stepped forward with a half nod and took her arm again. We resumed our walk to her study exactly as we'd begun it.

"Tell me about the next engagement after the Chamber Tea," the priestess said as if nothing had happened.

I was glad for it because I didn't enjoy feeling like more of an oddity than I already was. "The next scheduled events are the Fourth and Tanglewood."

"I've already made arrangements for Tanglewood. We're renting an adorable condominium with a pool. You will stop by at the very least."

"I will see how my schedule..."

The sensation hit me harder this time and didn't let up nearly as quickly. I bit out a cry before grabbing on to the nearest solid object. Morrígan made sure that was her.

While I clung to her to keep from falling she leaned in to whisper, "Your second present."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Something tugged me back with a jarring movement that snapped my jaw shut. Thankfully my tongue had been no where near my teeth this time. A second later I was whisked off the ground.

The vibration the suit was giving off ceased. When I could breath again I saw Morrígan glaring at me. What had I done to piss her off?

"She can walk on her own, senator," Morrígan said coolly.

My muddled brain slowly cleared. That was when I realized Aiden was holding me in his arms. Now I understood.

"I can walk on my own," I repeated her sentiment shakily.

"Very well," Aiden said in an unreadable voice as he set me gently on my feet.

Bravely I walked forward even though my legs were gelatinous. I didn't want to hold Morrígan's arm again but knew she'd be offended if I didn't. Slowly I came to understand what had happened.

There was more to this outfit than met the eye. And Morrígan controlled its wicked secrets. I was afraid of what other secrets it held.

"I am disappointed you did not come alone, Ms. Denham," Morrígan said with a delicate pout of her lips. "I did so hope to see you in private."

There was nothing I could say that wouldn't insult her so I wisely remained silent. My heart beat a little too rapidly in anticipation of her next attack. By the mischevious smile on her face I knew she was enjoying this immensely.

"You will have to visit me again soon, without your guard dogs." She shot a bitter glance back at them.

My quick response was, "They're not my guard dogs."

Her attention returned to me with a slight frown. "I do hope you haven't brought your lovers into my den."

"They're not my lovers either."

"Good. I would be offended to have my nose rubbed in that, Ms. Denham."

"I know," was my soft reply.

Her arm dropped away from mine to curl around my back upon reaching the heavy door to her study. She guided me inside and to the sole chair in front of her broad oak desk with only the pressure on my tailbone. I knew the lack of seating was because Morrígan didn't like entertaining more than one person at a time.

The room was a space one might expect to find in an old Victorian house, complete with paintings, bookshelves lined with tomes and the paper strewn desk. But here there were no hovering witches. This was her private domain. Her personal guard would not be here if I hadn't brought the Alpha and senator.

I averted my eyes from the desk with a flush in my cheeks. Morrígan had brought me here for more than just supposed gifts. She wanted me to remember. And remember I did.

She settled into the large leather chair behind the desk. "Now, dearest Ms. Denham," she tapped a porcelain-colored finger against her chin. "I'd like a hint as to why you are here before I decide if we're to dispense with the unpleasantness of whatever business has brought you to me this time or if we're to do the gift giving first."

I was praying for the business first. "Another Fire witch has set a residence on fire, amongst other things."

She leaned forward with slightly wider eyes. Her fingers clenched one another in a tight, white grip. "Your dad."

It was difficult to remain impassive because I knew she was upset that someone might attack my dad again. "No. It wasn't my dad."

Morrígan relaxed into her broad leather chair again, setting her hands atop the arm rests at either side. "We shall get the business out of the way. I will answer all of your questions, gladly. And in return you will give me a few minutes of your time sans guard."

"No," Aiden answered before I could think of an excuse.

The priestess's blue eyes swiveled to where he most certainly stood behind me. Her gaze sharpened. When she spoke it was in the lower register of her voice. "A vampire speaks for you now."

I was quick to respond, "No one speaks for me. You know that."

"I thought I did." She kicked a delicately formed ankle up onto the desk with her eye fixed on him still. "I shall teach him not to presume to know your mind."

Shit! I did not need this crap. "No, priestess." My heartbeat skyrocketed. I could feel the muscle pounding against the wall of my chest. "Please," I added because I knew how much she liked to hear it.

Her eyes snapped back to mine with a malevolent gleam. I didn't need to hear a response to know I was in deep shit. Morrígan's ankle dropped to the floor so she could stand from her chair and lean over the desk toward me. "You say please for him."

When Morrígan backed me into a corner my bad reactions were far different from those with anyone else. I went on the true defensive because I was legitimately worried for the vampire. "He's only here because the Alpha got frisky last night. Please just ignore him. He doesn't understand."

Damn it. Damn It. Damn it! Why was I such an idiot? How could I have been stupid enough to bring a vampire into the den of the Fire witches? I should have fought him harder.

The furious gleam in her eyes transformed into something quite different. I knew that look. And I knew I wasn't getting out of this easily. "You will explain what it is that he doesn't understand."

"He doesn't understand that you and I have...a history," I said just above a whisper.

"A history," she let out a husky laugh. "How I wish that what we had could be counted as a 'history', dearest Ms. Denham."

"Can we do this later?" I asked miserably.

"Hmm." It was as close to a question as she'd come.

"We were going to get the business out of the way." I steadily grew mortified. Because of it wasn't able to temper my impatience. She would make me pay for that as well.

Morrígan settled back down into the chair then gave a brusque gesture of her long, pale fingers.

My heartbeat eased, for now. I got down to business before she changed her mind. "A Fire witch kidnapped the sister of one of the Alpha's wolves. And a Fire witch set this same wolf's condo on fire."

"You will tell me what it is that you want from me," the priestess said in her imperious way.

Aiden spoke up from behind me. "Did the order come from you?"

I turned enough to give him a sharp glare. Hadn't he learned anything since he'd been here? Aiden didn't spare a look at me. His determined gaze was fixed on the high priestess. I resumed my normal pose because it was obvious he wasn't going to take silent advice from me.

"No, senator, the order didn't come from me," Morrígan replied in irritation. "There would be no purpose in my kidnapping a random wolf's sister."

I noticed how specific she'd made the statement. The Alpha hadn't made any noise so I assumed she'd been telling the truth or she'd found a way to fool Were. I guessed it wasn't a complete waste that he'd come along.

Aiden asked another question. "Would you be able to tell us who did kidnap her if I were to describe her?"

The urge to look at the vampire once again was strong. How exactly could he describe the Fire witch? How had he'd seen her when no one else had? The information Michelle had given us had been generic at best.

"Perhaps," Morrígan said with a dismissive gesture.

"My description may be a little off, as it is tempered by someone else's perception," he added. "But it may be enough."

The priestess heaved a heavy sigh. "Get on with it, senator."

"She has flame red hair cut in an asymmetrical bob, gray or blue gray eyes, emaciated figure, and a rather large nose."

"Megan," Morrígan replied at once. "But she would not..." Her voice trailed off without finishing. A hand went to her temple as her eyelids closed heavily. "Perhaps she would. She was angry that I did not make her an Adept. I'd thought she'd diverted her passion into her studies."

"She's one of yours?" Dominick spoke for the first time since we'd gotten there.

"Yes, Alpha, she is one of mine." Her attention switched back to me. "She will be dealt with according to Coven law." In other words, she'd be tried by the high priestess and if found guilty, put to death by drowning.

"And restitution to my wolf for the loss of his condo and belongings?"

"Setup mediation, Alpha." Morrígan said wearily. "I will attend it."

I brought the focus back to me now that we were dealing with the safer topic of business. "I need to know who she was working for, priestess."

Spying an opportunity, Morrígan snagged it immediately. "I will arrange it. Return tomorrow night without your..."

"No," Aiden interrupted her, "She's not coming here alone."

Morrígan's voice dropped low. "You are beginning to anger me, senator."

"Tomorrow night," I said loudly enough that I hoped they both shut up, "I will come, alone, on one condition."

The priestess's lips twisted to one side. "There's always a condition with you, dearest Ms. Denham." But she waited for me to give the condition before saying anything else.

I looked her in the eye and said, "We postpone the gift giving."

Her mouth spread into a broad grin. "We have an agreement."

"Thank you, priestess." I stood from her leather chair, bowing in front of her desk in a deferential gesture.

That was when the evil, evil woman hit the switch on her remote. I bit my lip to keep from making a sound at the sudden jolt. My lack of response spurred her to turn up the juice. I unfolded to stand upright with my hands on the edge of her desk while the vibrations sent little shocks of desire all through me.

She lifted into a standing position with a graceful movement and then moved the four steps to stand beside me. Her hot breath slid into my ear in the form of a whisper, "I will dream of you."

It took every ounce of coordination and the little composure I was capable of displaying not to fall onto the floor in a quivering mess. Somehow I managed to make it to the door. The high priestess remained behind, resting against her large desk with her eyes fixed on us as we moved.

It was a testament to how messed up I was that I didn't protest when Aiden scooped me up and carried me back to my car. Someone had driven us a block away when either the priestess let up on her remote or I'd moved out of range. I let my muscles go slack against the passenger seat with a shaky sigh of relief.

"What the fuck was that, Laura?" The Alpha was the first to speak. From the location of his voice I gathered that he was sitting in the back seat. That must mean Aiden was driving.

I'd forced them to hold their comments until after but I wasn't certain I was going to answer any of their questions.

"That was nothing that concerns you," I answered in what I'd hoped was a cool tone, in reality it was breathless because of the after shocks still riding my nerves.

"We're tryin' to find out who is attemptin' to kill my wolf and you seem to be personally involved with everyone who could be pulling the strings."

His accusation angered me enough to get defensive. "I'm not involved with anyone."

Dominick muttered, "I'll bet you're even friendly with the Prime."

"She is, actually," Aiden told him.

"For fucks sake," I said at the same time as the Alpha was cursing in the back seat.

"You should have told us you had history with the high priestess," Aiden scolded me far too calmly.

"Yeah," Dominick chimed in. "That would have been a nice fuckin' thing to know goin' in."

"I don't really have history with the high priestess." I wasn't even convincing myself. "At least not the kind of history she wants. And look, nobody is supposed to know about this. If either of you so much as makes a peep about..."

"Are you or aren't you a lesbian?"

This from the Alpha was actually insulting. "My sexual preference has no bearing on my ability to track down who is doing all of this shit and put the hurt on them."

The guy was gruff when he declared, "I'm not talkin' about the kidnappin's and fires right now. I just wanna know."

"I don't know you well enough to..."

He interrupted me impatiently. "Oh, just stop it."

"Fine then, what answer will get you to leave me alone?"

I heard Aiden inhale a quick breath but when I glanced at him I couldn't tell why he'd done it. It had sounded like a laugh to me but his face was an unreadable mask.

"What's the priestess got on you?" Dominick demanded angrily. "How can you be such a hard ass with me but almost...submissive to her?"

That question made my entire body go a little cold. Was I submissive to Morrígan? Good gods, I was, wasn't I? That was part of why she scared me so damn much.

Stiffly I replied, "I'm not discussing Morrígan with you."

He smacked the back of my seat. "You damn well..."

Aiden interrupted him. "Calm down, wolf. If Miss Denham isn't comfortable discussing this then we can't force her."

The Alpha's ire quickly turned to him. "What the hell is the deal with you anyway?"

"I'm sorry?"

"One minute you're rattin' on her about the Prime and givin' her a hard time for keepin' her little affair with the priestess a secret and the next you're reasonable. Make up your fuckin' mind."

"It's not an affair..." I attempted to argue but was drowned out by them.

"My mind has not changed, wolf," Aiden retorted. "You are right that she is perhaps too close to this investigation. And it was irresponsible for her to keep that information from us..."

I broke in with a louder voice. "I'm sorry but I did try to keep you guys from coming with me. And I told you things might get weird."

Aiden moved onto a more productive topic before the Alpha could say something derisive. "I believe we should track this Megan down before her priestess gets to her, in case Morrígan is the one behind this."

"While I think that is a good idea, I can't go along with it," I said.

"Why?" The Alpha butted in, "Because you don't want to upset your girlfriend?"

My shoulder turned enough for me to look over it into the back seat. "Do you have any idea how immature you sound right now?"

Dominick held my irritated eye for a silent moment. "Why can't you go along with it?"

"Because Mr. Bruce is a vampire and Morrígan is the high priestess of the Fire witches for the Northeast. He might as well play chicken with the sun."

The vampire glanced at me while merging onto the interstate. "I appreciate your concern but I can handle myself."

I shook my head in a slow, grave motion. "It's not about whether or not you can handle yourself. It's that she knows me well enough to know threatening me directly never works. She knows only threatening other people will get my attention. And you're the one she'd go after first because she thinks it will upset me."

"Will it?"

I didn't want to answer Aiden's soft question but neither of them spoke. Obviously they were waiting on my response. I closed my eyes for a moment. "If anyone gets hurt because they were foolishly trying to protect me, then yes, it will upset me."

My answer plunged the car into silence. I was grateful for it. But the silence meant I had to think and my thoughts instantly went to Morrígan.

Gods, what had I gotten myself into this time?

I tugged the belted raincoat tighter around my waist as I stepped out of my car near the row house. My neighbors would just love to be able to tell the symphony that I dressed like a dominatrix on my off time. I really needed to come up with a cover story for all of the weird crap that happened around me. That or I needed a place without neighbors.

These days it seemed like my symphony life was the cover story. More and more my nocturnal activities took over what was supposed to be my "real life". I didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand the Underground facet of my life was dangerous and I tended to get hurt. On the other I was getting rid of some of Boston's worst criminals -- the ones the police could never hope to contain, even if they knew of their existence.

A figure stepped out of the shadows to block my path. I'd been so distracted in thought that I hadn't realized someone was there. My hand immediately went for the gun inside my coat but it hadn't been in time.

The figure grabbed me my the forearms, wrenching them from within the coat. A split second later I was whirled me around and immediately slammed up against the brick wall. Hot minty scented breath fanned my face while I attempted to decide if this was a supernatural creature or a run of the mill thug. Had that movement been quicker than human or was I just off my game tonight?

I knew the answer when warm lips pressed over mine. That kiss, open mouthed and all, was familiar. The Alpha had followed me home.

The two men had gotten in their respective cars at the brownstone fifteen minutes earlier without much of an argument. I should have known I wasn't going to get away that easily. But of the people I would have expected to follow me, the Alpha wouldn't have been my first guess.

His hands slid in between the folds of my jacket to move along the leather beneath. I wouldn't have thought I'd be able to feel much of anything through the outfit but I'd have been wrong. Each tiny gesture was articulated through the leather straps directly onto my skin. Now that I thought about it, it made sense given who had bought it for me.

I turned my head away, breaking the kiss so that I could ask, "What do you want?"

Rather than answer me he unbelted the coat, spread it wide and press himself against me. I felt the heat of his skin through the layers of our clothes. He was warm. And he was aroused.

"I want you so bad," he said into my ear in that voice I'd known would give me shivers.

"Alpha..."

He growled deep within his throat and grabbed my chin so that he could force another kiss on me. Though it was heated and sexy, I wasn't in the mood to be pawed outside my apartment building wearing Morrígan's little gift. All I wanted to do was strip out of it, shower off what she'd done to me and sleep the night away.

I shoved at his broad chest to little effect. It wasn't until I'd bitten down on his tongue that he loosened his grip. But I'd angered him and apparently anger did it for him because he slid his hands down to my waist to lift me to his pelvis for a proper grinding session. I had to admit that after the tenderness Morrígan had induced with her remote control, it didn't feel half bad. It helped that Alphas were notoriously well endowed.

Seconds later I was on my ass on the sidewalk and the Alpha was growling like a dog in a territorial dispute. I scrambled to my feet to figure out what the hell was going on and got hit with a face full of chestnut hair that smelled suspiciously like Aiden Bruce's cinnamon scent. They appeared to be in some sort of battle on the sidewalk in front of my apartment. I stood dumbly trying to decide what the hell to do.

The vampire ducked an attack directly in front of me. I saw the wide-eyed horror on his face as he reached out for me a heartbeat before I felt the claws enter my chest. My attention snapped forward to where I was met with Dominick's rage filled eyes. His fury fled in an instant once he'd realized what he'd done. The Alpha's claws immediately retracted as his hand shifted back into human form.

"Jesus Christ," Dominick exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

I'm not going to lie; it hurt. But thanks to the durable leather straps that made up Morrígan's gift, his claws hadn't slashed much further than a centimeter into my actual skin. The telltale tingling and itching meant I was already healing the wounds.

"I'm fine," I replied tersely with a step away from the hands that tried to check my wounds.

"I am sorry, Miss Denham. I shouldn't have avoided the attack," Aiden was saying with his attention focused solely on me. "It was cowardly of me."

My voice was low and angry, "This wouldn't have happened if you'd both just left me alone." I punctuated the last three words with a slow drawl.

The Alpha just couldn't resist trying to start more shit. "We were doin' just fine before he showed up. More than fine if you ask me..."

"I didn't," I called back after turning toward the building's entrance. "If either of you shows your face around here again without my invitation, I'll shoot it."

I didn't wait for the inevitable arguments. They could fight amongst themselves out there until the sun rose for all I cared. I was going to bed.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I had made the mistake of showing up at Morrígan's stronghold in black jeans and a black t-shirt beneath my raincoat. I'd hoped she'd overlook the fact that it wasn't leather. I'd been wrong.

Her personal guard met me halfway to the inner sanctum. He bowed from the waist down. "Her holiness has arranged for more appropriate attire. If you would follow me." He didn't wait for an agreement before turning and walking in the direction parallel to the sanctum.

I couldn't for the life of me remember what his name was. I thought it was something that had once reminded me of Sesame Street, like Bert or Ernie. Or had it been the Muppets? Maybe his name was Gonzo.

Gonzo stopped in front of a door in a part of the stronghold I'd never visited. He gestured that I was to go inside and when I'd stepped forward he said, "Everything is laid out. She will be pleased if you were to accept these gifts."

In other words, if I didn't put on the clever new outfit, she was going to be displeased. I inhaled an irritated breath but didn't argue. I needed information from her witch. If putting on another silly outfit would get it, then dress me up and call me Fifi.

Gonzo didn't have to say it but I knew he'd wait outside for me. I supposed she'd never actually called him a guard. He was more like her personal errand boy, except he was probably nearly thirty. I didn't know how I knew he was older than me because he had the soft features of a much younger man. Maybe it was the lines around his eyes. I'd have admitted he was pretty if anyone had asked me.

The room he'd shown me to was a private washroom with a broad mirror. Bright lights around the mirror gave it a dressing room feeling. I found myself wondering how many people Morrígan forced into silly outfits. I'd always been too interested in avoiding her advances to consider how promiscuous she might be. Now was probably not a good time to start worrying.

Beside the sink was a stack of green garments that looked gauzy and lacy at first glance. I hadn't expected green. Morrígan required her coven to wear black when they were in residence. The only people that were allowed to wear colors other than raven were visitors that knew no better and the high priestess herself. I fit neither of those categories.

I didn't begin to worry about the order to change until I'd lifted the first few items off the stack. Morrígan had supplied undergarments, such that they were. The lacy items would be all but non-existent. The idea of putting them on brought a flush to my cheeks.

I snatched everything up to get this over with. It had been a long day. I'd slept restlessly until ten. Then I'd gotten up to get some last minute practice in on my instrument before I was due into rehearsal.

Jonas had shouted at me no less than four times for what he claimed were tempo problems. What he didn't understand was that the sheet music he'd given me by a little known early Romantic composer had tempo problems written into it. Rather than argue with him about it, I played what I thought he wanted rather than what was written. A few times I'd reverted to the printed music in error. Those few times had earned me the extra complaints. When I'd gotten home I'd worked on scrawling a new, fixed set of music so that Jonas would leave me alone.

The trepidation of another meeting with Morrígan had made it difficult to eat anything all day, even when my stomach was loudly protesting. Not even a trip to an outrageously expensive bakery had whet my appetite enough to nibble something. I wished I'd forced something down anyway.

Looking at the gauzy green gown in my hand made me wonder why exactly I'd been relieved when the clock had finally hit six o'clock. I knew I'd wanted to get it over with but now that I was here, I thought perhaps I should have come up with an excuse to avoid it. With a sigh I began removing my coat.

The outfit I'd exited wearing was not unlike the one Morrígan herself had been wearing last night. The grass green colored lightweight fabric hung from my body in waves that gently fluttered while I walked. The difference between the gowns was that mine had no corset. Instead the bodice was made of two pieces of crossed fabric that met at the center of the gown's high empire waist. A strapless bra in a matching color was barely hidden beneath it. By far the most uncomfortable piece Morrígan had given me was the high-heeled sandals that were strapped to my unsteady feet.

Gonzo walked me past the sanctum entrance towards the room at the back of the stronghold I'd come to term as Morrígan's torture chamber. I knew inside it was what looked to be a badass version of the ball toss at a local carnival except the priestess didn't bother with platforms above the water.

I was shown inside just as the witch, Megan I assumed from the bright red asymmetrical bob on her head and her long vulture-like nose, was dropped screaming into what was probably ice-cold water. The water splashed out of the container beneath the furious thrashing of her tightly bound mummy-like body. A set of metal hooks gripping her cocooned shoulders kept the witch's head just above the surface.

Morrígan stood in front of the sturdy glass tank with her hands crossed in front of her leather-clad chest. Her dark hair was pulled into a stark bun at the base of her neck seemingly held up by nothing. The priestess's perfect profile was fixed solemnly on the tank. Tonight she wore a cat suit made of distressed white leather. I tried my best not to notice how good she looked in it.

"Good evening, Ms. Denham," she greeted me politely without looking away from her witch. "You are just in time." Her voice went whip sharp, "You traitorous bitch, tell me who told you to kidnap Michelle DiSalvo!"

"Fuck you!" The witch yelled before the hooks plunged her beneath the water's surface. When she was brought up again she gagged from too much swallowed liquid.

"Tell me who you truly work for!"

I should have remembered that Morrígan needed no help getting information.

"Whore!" Megan got out just before being dunked again.

"We found evidence of several large cash deposits in her bank account to the tune of a hundred thousand dollars," the priestess told me in a calm voice. She flicked her finger over a remote control to lift her witch then resumed her imperious voice. "Tell me who paid to sully you and I will make your death painless."

"Fuck you!"

Such original responses made the whole incident painful to watch and worse to listen to. Morrígan was slowly drowning the woman but we were getting nowhere with our information gathering.

"You can't hold a candle to her!" The witch shouted as she went under for the tenth or twelfth time.

"Her?" I said in surprise. We were finally getting information. But it didn't help all that much considering nearly every coven in the region was headed by a high priestess. It could be any of them...any except Morrígan herself, if the witch were to be believed.

"You will tell me which bitch I can't hold a candle to, Megan." Morrígan's stern voice called out.

"Fuck you!"

Lovely, we were back to that.

When Megan surfaced this time, she chanted something I couldn't understand. Morrígan must have had better luck than me because she kept the girl above the water for far longer while she listened.

"She's repeating a chant in Gaelic," Morrígan told me after Megan had been submerged again. "It is one I have not heard in some time, long enough that I have forgotten what its purpose was. I wasn't aware any of the locals knew the language."

It was a clue, a clue she'd have to help me with, but a clue nonetheless.

"She's creating a better wor..." Megan screamed with her fleeting breath in between dunks. "Better world...where we'll all coopera..."

"She believes she's a martyr," Morrígan said with a sigh as the witch was immersed once again. "I don't believe we'll get information out of her."

"She's already given us two clues," I argued. "Maybe..."

The priestess interrupted me with a gesture to the tank. "That water is going to boil her alive if I don't pull her out."

She was right. The witch's thrashing and failed Fire attacks had heated the water enough that the glass fogged and tendrils of steam floated above.

"I will try again tomorrow if you wish," Morrígan said with a glance at me. "But perhaps you'd be better served by my researching that chant and what it was meant to do."

I sighed. I'd really wanted to be finished with this today. "Okay."

She lifted the witch above the surface for the final time. "I will be with you in one moment, Ms. Denham. I must personally see her back to the holding cell to assure no one gets hurt. You will await me in my study."

My mouth opened to argue but she'd already moved halfway across the room. Gonzo appeared to guide me away. While I trailed behind him I began wondering what it would be like to have my own devoted errand boy.

Gonzo never seemed to question the priestess's wishes. I'd not seen him give any indication that he was judging her actions. He was only ever biddable. There was no way in hell I'd ever find someone that submissive to me and if I did, I'd probably be so suspicious that I'd be tempted to shoot them. No, I didn't have the temperament for someone like Gonzo.

He left me alone inside the Morrígan's study with a promise to fetch my things. I had no doubt that he'd do it; I just didn't know when he'd do it. I hovered near her desk while attempting to read a few of her papers upside down. They appeared to be correspondence with other Fire priestesses. One letter was in a language I didn't recognize. It didn't appear to have its roots in one of the romance languages because I could generally make an educated guess at those thanks to the few classes in Spanish and French in high school and college.

"Thank you, Oscar," Morrígan's voice spoke from just outside the door.

Gonzo's name was Oscar! How could I have forgotten that? I'd silently made comparisons to the trash can puppet several times in the past. Perhaps I'd remember it now.

"Thank you for waiting, Ms. Denham," Morrígan greeted me from the door. Her voice had gone low and throaty.

I turned to find her standing just a foot inside the room. She'd pulled the zipper down on her cat suit to show a good span of creamy white skin and the edges of her perfectly shaped breasts. I hated that I noticed things like that on her.

I knew what she'd intended to do when she'd began advancing. My stumble backwards was probably not the brightest of reactions. It put me too close to her desk with no room to dart away because of the curious addition of a second chair.

She surprised me by grabbing me roughly by the neck with her right hand to shove me back against the desk. I'd begun to think maybe I hadn't known what she wanted when she stepped forward to nip my bottom lip between her straight white teeth. A sharp squeeze around the throat cut off my air temporarily before her fingers slackened.

"That was for making me watch those men salivate over you," she said in her huskiest of voices.

"I tried to keep them away," was my breathless defense.

With aching slowness she slid her hand from my neck downward while holding my eyes. The look on her face was that of a detached observer, a scientist noting the mouse in the maze. I hated that look on her.

Her fingers slid beneath the left side of my bodice. The scientific detachment faded into a sly smile when I sucked in a breath of air as her warm fingers slid into the cup of the strapless bra. Morrígan moved in for the kill before I could protest. She'd slipped the loose sleeves over my shaky shoulders, tugged the delicate bodice down all while pressing her knee between my thighs to keep me where I was. Her warm mouth quickly closed over the breast she was steadily baring.

Heat rose up from the center of me, flooding me as if it were riding my very veins. My gasp was loud enough that I knew everyone in the vicinity had heard it. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. This was supposed to be wrong. I wasn't supposed to enjoy the touch of another woman. I'd be mortified if anyone walked in now.

With unhurried care Morrígan rubbed her knee against the most sensitive part of me. The roughness of the leather she wore was easily felt through the thin layers of fabric that separated us. My arched body had taken on a will of its own and that will wanted to nothing to be between us. I muffled a moan into her shoulder as she flicked my unattended nipple with a set of manicured fingers. A shot of desire spiked down to my core.

Morrígan's wicked eyes snapped to mine in challenge. How dare I try to hide what I was feeling, were the unspoken words in that gaze. For my audacity I would pay.

Morrígan had the gauzy skirt lifted and her hand thrust beneath it a half second later. The chill that rushed against my skin was instantly chased away by the priestess's fiery touch. She slid her hands down my leg to curl beneath my knees. They bent for her as if knowing that was what she wanted. With a thumb curled around the front of my shins she pushed me back onto the top of the desk, uncaring that I was crinkling her many papers.

"Priestess," I bit out her title in a soft plea when I realized what she was planning to do.

Her beautiful face moved from side to side as if to say there was nothing to be done. With the same aching slowness she'd employed earlier but a far less detached expression, she lowered her head to the lacy panties she'd specifically bought for this purpose. I knew that now, knew the entire stupid outfit had been purchased so that she could easily seduce me. And as my pelvis arched against the searing tongue probing the delicate lace I still wore I couldn't force myself to be angry about that fact. How could I when she was drawing such delicious waves of sensation all across my tender skin?

"You will stay the night," she said when I was at my most mindless. I must have agreed this time because she hadn't tried to force the issue as she'd done the last time she'd tried to seduce me.

At some point she'd taken the rest of the gown off and guided me into an adjoining chamber that had a rather lush, large bed coated in pillows and soft blankets. I remember watching her pull the zipper down on her cat suit, even recalled lovingly caressing the ample chest she'd revealed, I knew a lot more had happened but I didn't know how it was that I'd come to fall asleep with someone else in the room.

I woke to the soft glow of a few candles and Morrígan coaxing me awake with a playful finger between my thighs. My body warmed to her in an instant. She made a purring sound into my ear that drove me a little wild. Morrígan kissed me, a teasing, luxurious dance of tongues that made me want to melt into a puddle of wax beneath her flame.

"I've been scheming for months on how to get you into my bed," she murmured with a kiss against my temple. "Without setting something on fire, that is."

I couldn't help my light intake of amused breath. It was the only laugh I was capable of at that moment.

"Would it have been easier if I'd been a man?"

My head pulled back to get a better look at her face. Her lush lips were slightly parted and her brilliant blue eyes were focused intently on me. She truly wanted to know the answer to one of the few questions I could ever recall her asking.

"No," I admitted, hoping it was the truth.

"The vampire called me last night after you left. He tried to threaten me." She gave a husky laugh as if it were absurd that a vampire would do such a thing. "I knew you wouldn't lie to me. If he'd been your lover you would have merely said nothing at all yesterday."

"He isn't my lover," I assured her.

She pushed a lock of my sable hair away from my face. "You will tell me what is he to you, dearest Ms. Denham."

I didn't want to talk about Aiden Bruce with her. I wanted my time with her to be something that didn't intrude on anything else and vice versa. But the determination in her blue eyes forced an answer from me. "He's saved my life at least twice. I think he's having me followed. But I don't know why. He hasn't tried anything at all."

The priestess scanned my face for a sign of truth. She must have found what she wanted because her eyes dropped to my lips and then she kissed me again, that same heated slide of soft tongue against tongue. I was happier letting her do that than discussing the vampire.

The time for speech was apparently finished because she sleekly slid down my body. Her pearly skin was as soft as it looked. I reached my fingers out to twirl them within her silky hair in an effort to see if it felt as luxurious as the cloth I'd compared it to.

She let out a laugh when I'd accidentally tugged it too tightly in response to the flicking of her tongue. "Harder," she purred against my swollen skin.

It took me some time to understand what she'd demanded. When I put the pieces together my cheeks flushed bright red again. She was a decidedly bad influence on me because I gave in to her wishes to tug on her hair harder. It lifted her beautiful face toward me. The look of ecstasy in those amazing eyes took my breath away.

My hand shoved into her hair to get a better grip. Using it I pulled her up, reveling in the control it gave me and the obvious pleasure she got from my use of it. With a hand on her shoulder and my knee to her hip I pushed her back onto the spill of pillows. My hand slid along the soft curve of her thigh.

"Gods," I whispered while looking down at her perfect body. "What have you done to me?"

"Doing," she corrected in her contralto voice. "I'm not finished with you. Not by far." The wicked grin on her face made my heart flutter.

She lifted up as if to kiss me. I moved the hand that had been at her hip over her stomach to stop her. Her blue eyes flashed darkly at me in a mixture of irritation and titillation.

Morrígan had seemed like a larger than life person from the moment I'd met her. I'd seen small signs of the power she wielded and felt the awesome aura she projected. I could completely understand how she'd managed to convince her flock that she was a goddess incarnate. Having someone I considered formidable pliable beneath my hands was a heady experience.

The priestess edged herself up until my hand slid into the dark curls at the junction of her legs. With a wicked smile she began rubbing herself against me like a cat in heat. I watched in awe as her jaw went slack, her lips parted in a soft sigh and her lovely eyes fluttered closed. Had there ever been anything more beautiful than this?

"Ms. Denham," she whispered in what sounded like a question.

I could barely breath. "Yes?"

"May I call you by your name?"

The soft question from a woman that rarely bothered with them broke any reserve I'd had left. I realized with a sharp spike of lust that I wanted her to do a hell of a lot more than call me by my name. I wanted her screaming it at the top of her lungs in between labored pants for air. I wanted her burning so hot that the only thing that could quench it was my touch.

I inhaled a shaky breath. "Call me Lore."

"Lore," she repeated with a quiet reverence.

I didn't know what took hold of me after that. I didn't recognize the person that I'd become. Morrígan let me dominate her fully, doing anything I like to that amazing body of hers. I savored every small noise she made, seeking to draw more and larger ones. In the end she screamed my name. She screamed it several times in between begging for the release I was cruelly withholding. And the last sound she made before she fell asleep beside me was my name in a sighing prayer.

With my legs pulled up beneath me and a soft blanket drawn around me I watched her slumber. She was by far the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Merely thinking of her brilliant eyes watching me with that sly glint made my stomach flutter.

Confusion was at the forefront of my thoughts. I had never been with a woman before. As far as I knew I was heterosexual. I could appreciate that females were beautiful creatures but I hadn't had interest in sex with them. Morrígan was something completely different. And she was something that couldn't happen again.

Carefully I set my feet down on the granite floor to stand as silently as I could manage. But as I stood looking for my clothes, knowing they wouldn't be there, I knew I couldn't run away this time. It wasn't right. I had to stay and face this, whatever this was.

When she finally stirred I was sitting in a chair across the room watching her. I saw the moment she realized I wasn't in bed with her, the deep lines that had formed above her eyes when she thought I'd fled and then the pleasure when she spotted me.

"Come back to bed," she said with a flick of the hair off her breasts.

My mouth literally watered at the sight. Desire instantly warmed me. I went to her with the intention of it being the last time.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

My gun was aimed at his temple before he could get any words past his lips. His narrow fingers lifted in surrender. It was the only move he dared to make.

I stared at the long chestnut hair that was barely visible in the dimly lit street, the dimple hidden within the strong jaw and the silver irises for a moment before I spoke. "I didn't invite you."

"I was concerned," Aiden said simply.

"About?"

"You did not come home last night."

A flare of guilt shot through me. I ignored it to speak coolly. "And how do you know?"

"Do you truly want me to answer that question?"

That was a very good question. Did I? Probably not. "I'm fine. There was no need to worry. Bye now."

Ever practical, Aiden remained still but asked, "Did you learn anything?"

My brain rewound the entire night in a flash of pale skin, flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. Gods, I'd learned something. Oh, he'd meant about the rogue witch.

"Megan proved that we need to be looking at the high priestesses," I told him with a bounce of my long ponytail off an irritated bit of skin. "She claims one of them is trying to make the world a better place where witches cooperate with each other. But that's pretty much all we got out of her. That and a gaelic chant Morrígan is researching."

At some point he'd moved. My gun was no longer pressed against his temple. He stood beside me and his eyes were fixed on the soft portion of my neck at the base of my head beneath my ponytail. That wasn't a normal thing for Aiden to do. Though he was a vampire, I'd never caught him looking at my arteries.

"What is that?" His voice was low and sharp.

"What is what?"

"That mark on your nape."

I couldn't see what he was talking about no matter how much I tried to crane my neck back. I pushed by him, hastily unlocked the front door, and hurried through the building. My stumbling fingers couldn't get the apartment unlocked fast enough. Aiden silently trailed my steps.

The stinging I'd felt beneath my hair since I woke the second time worried me too much to mess with him. It had been bad enough that I'd had to pull my hair into a ponytail in the car to lower the discomfort but I'd assumed I'd been stung by something.

My keys landed on the counter in front of the microwave exactly where I wanted them as I rushed to the bathroom. I tugged the collar of my black shirt down in front of the now brightly lit mirror and angled a second mirror in front of me so I could see my neck. What Aiden had been staring at was immediately apparent.

On the fleshy part of skin beneath my hair between my back and my skull was a black smudge the size of a quarter. I licked my index finger to rub it away but it didn't so much as smear. There was no residual dirt on the pad of my finger.

Determined to clean the mark off, I snatched a white facecloth from the closet, doused it in steamy water and a healthy dose of soap and then began scrubbing furiously at the skin. It only served to redden the area and worsen the stinging. My features twisted into a frown at the gleaming white facecloth. This wasn't something as easy to clean as dirt or a magic marker drawing.

I pressed my back closer to the glass to get a better look. The blood drained from my face when I realized that I knew the mark. It had been an image I'd happened upon in an online encyclopedia. The entry had been for an Irish war goddess. Morrígan. The smudges made up a stylized crow, one of the goddess's supposed forms.

"What is it?" Aiden asked again.

"I don't know," I lied.

After smacking the facecloth down on the sink I shoved past the vampire into the living room. My fingers dug into the hair around my temple for a tug that was supposed to help me concentrate as I paced the floor. Think, Laura, think.

What the hell had happened? Vaguely I recalled Morrígan kissing me exactly where this black smudge now emblazoned. It had stung then as if I'd been burnt. I'd been a little too preoccupied with what her fingers had been doing to ask what had happened. And then I'd forgotten all about it.

Had she done it then? Or had she managed to mark me while I slept without my noticing it? What the hell did it mean?

I fixed a glare at the vampire that hovered on the edge of the room. "You need to leave." So I could make a phone call without him overhearing it.

He ignored me. "The priestess did this to you, didn't she?"

Rather than answer that I snapped out, "I told you I'd shoot you if you came without my invitation."

Aiden's lips thinned into a fine line. Two-seconds later he said things he had no right to say. "I don't think you should see her alone. She is dangerous. She could be the high priestess we're looking for."

"You're dangerous and I'm seeing you alone," I pointed out stiffly.

"I'm not a high priestess."

"You could be working for one."

Aiden gave me a bewildered expression. "Why would I have you investigate this matter if I were the one who wanted it to succeed?"

I already had the answer to that question. "Maybe you think I'm too much of a screw up to figure any of it out. So you think I'm the perfect one to investigate it."

"I don't think you're a screw up in the least. It's quite the opposite," he replied in what sounded like a gently chiding voice. "You're the perfect person to investigate. Your ability to seamlessly move between all factions has enabled you to learn far more than I ever could. Still, I think you should keep your distance from Morrígan."

His answer had pleased me enough that I said, "I'm going to try. But I can't make any promises."

He inclined his head in a slight bow. "Please keep me updated with any new information. We're eager to have this matter wrapped up before the sabbath."

The full moon was when they thought the summoning would take place. I didn't have long and I had virtually no leads. Worse yet, it seemed every time I followed a clue all that I got were complications. I didn't want more complications. This might be the most difficult thing I'd had to deal with to date.

"I'll do my best," I managed to answer.

Aiden watched me for a moment before turning and leaving without another word. I had time to note his facial features. Three nights in a row they'd been unchanged. Did that mean this was the face he was keeping? I shouldn't care. I had enough problems on my plate.

My fingers dialed the moment I heard the door close in the distance. Oscar answered Morrígan's phone after the first ring. He'd known it was me calling and asked me to hold while he fetched "her holiness" without waiting to see if that was what I wanted. I wondered if he was on orders to put me right through now.

Her contralto voice oozed into my ear with a husky purr a minute later, "Lore."

My knees went a little weak simply from the memories of what she'd done to me. "High priestess..."

"Come now, we're past that," she scolded.

"What did you do to me, Morrígan?"

She made a sound of contemplation that didn't sound either angry or pleased. "Hmm." It wasn't exactly a question but I knew she wanted me to explain my demand.

"There's a mark on my neck that wasn't there last night. I can't clean it off."

She inhaled a small breath. "A parting gift from me, dearest."

This stinging thing was a gift? Warily I asked, "What is it?"

"A tattoo of sorts," she said in an irreverently light tone. I could visualize her shrugging her creamy shoulders in one of her gauzy gowns.

It wasn't a tattoo. I'd have noticed someone jabbing a needle into me repeatedly. This was...oh, gods, she couldn't have...

I blurted out, "Is it a brand, Morrígan?"

Her delighted laugh was answer enough.

My temperature rose in anger. I could feel my cheeks flushing from the boiling blood steadily filling them. "You branded me?"

"I had to claim you from the vampire."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She'd intentionally done this to me! And it was because of Aiden? "I told you that there's nothing going on with him!"

"That isn't what he thinks," she said above a yawn.

"You had no right to do this, Morrígan!"

She switched into a patronizing tone that set my teeth on edge. "Oh don't get so worked up. It is a gift."

"How is branding me on my neck a gift?"

"It will protect you," she said simply.

"It's not even hidden! I'm never going to be able to put my hair up now without putting make-up over it!"

"You wouldn't cover my gift." Morrígan said in surprise tinted with indignation.

"Have you been out in the real world lately?" I demanded of the woman that lived in a torch-lit stone stronghold with leather bikini clad neophytes bowing to her every whim. "The symphony orchestra doesn't exactly look favorably on tattoos or piercings. And you put one where everyone will see it!"

"I could have marked your forehead."

"I would have shot you!"

Her chuckled response was gratingly light. "No, you wouldn't have."

I was still too mystified by what had happened between us that I couldn't say if I would or wouldn't have shot her. If I'd given in to my rage, I had the sinking suspicion that I'd have immediately healed her while begging forgiveness. Gods, Aiden was right. She was dangerous but not for any of the reasons he probably had in his head.

"I want you to remove it," I said in my I'm-so-pissed-I-could-spit voice.

"It is a Brand, dearest. A Brand cannot be removed."

"Then you'd better hope I can heal it off my skin," I snapped before hanging up.

Threatening the high priestess of the Fire witches was probably a bad idea. I'd only been burnt twice by rogue Fire witches but those had been two of the most painful wounds I'd ever sustained. I'd endured quite a bit of pain since I'd been given my powers to have a pretty good comparison.

"What have you done now?"

I whirled around to face the derisive voice of my guide. "Great," I muttered at the dark figure standing in front of my bedroom door. "A visit from you is just the perfect way to end an already perfect day."

In a surprising move Kastio shimmered out of sight and then back in again with a more solid appearance. There was no mist around him now. He was in the Mortal Realm. My guide advanced on me too quickly for me to avoid his touch. I stood stiffly staring at the wall while his eerily smooth fingertips traced the mark on my neck.

I had almost forgotten that of all the people I'd met over the years, supernatural or otherwise, Kastio had the warmest body temperature by far. I didn't know if it was a peculiarity of the divine or if he'd been something supernatural before he'd been deified. The few times I'd tried to get information out of him about his past he'd given me cryptic responses or outright ignored me.

What I did remember was that these moments when Kastio visited in the flesh were the worst. I'd have paid him to go back to the Domain and dip into my thoughts simply to avoid having to feel his presence heavy beside me.

His aura always preceded him like a choking wave of humidity. It washed over me, holding me captive in a phantom grip. The scent of expensive fabric and exotic spice hovered with it.

I forced myself to speak in an effort to ignore his proximity. "Why bother asking? You know what I did."

"Yes," he agreed in his unreadable voice.

A shiver shot up my back at the realization that he had been watching. Kastio had all but admitted to seeing every tiny thing that Morrígan and I had done together. My cheeks flushed brilliant crimson. Of all of the things Kastio had probably witnessed, I was most mortified about this one.

"So you know this isn't my fault," I added defensively without looking at him.

His fingers were still on my neck. They'd long since stopped tracing the mark. I hadn't noticed it until then. Unfortunately the moment I'd noticed it, my body reacted to it. A tremor began in my shoulders and had washed over the rest of me by the time I'd taken a step back.

Kastio's hand dropped to rest beside him. "It is a magical Brand. Neither of your healing powers will remove it."

Technically I had two healing powers. There was the innate healing my body did effortlessly -- healing rather like shapeshifters had. And then there was the ability to Heal like the flavor of witch called Healers. I wasn't a true Healer because it didn't work when applied to myself and, well, I was half human, half divine instead of all witch.

But wait, he'd said neither would work on me. "You're joking."

"I do not joke." He was right about that. He had no sense of humor to speak of.

"Gods," I whined. "I can't have something like this there!" I jabbed my fingers toward my neck. "I always wear my hair up during performances and that will show on every gown I own." I inhaled a petulant breath, hoping for some sort of answer that would fix this. An idea popped into my brain. My eyebrows lifted and my gaze met his. "Maybe I can have someone tattoo over it with flesh colored ink."

He didn't so much as move a hair when he squashed my hope. "Your skin will heal the tattoo and absorb the ink but the Brand will remain."

"Damn it!" I slumped down onto the sofa to put a little more space between us without it being obvious what I was doing. Then I recalled something from the phone conversation. "Was she telling the truth, Kast? Will it protect me?"

His brooding expression didn't budge. "Yes."

That was surprising. People didn't usually give me gifts quite that useful. I could always use a little more protection. "What will it protect me against?"

"Fire."

His monosyllabic responses were irking the hell out of me. I should be accustomed to them by now. He'd been with me on and off for nine years and he hadn't changed in all that time.

"So that means what?" I pressed. "Nothing will happen to me if someone hits me with a fireball?"

"The mark draws power from its owner and thus is only as powerful as the one that gave it." Finally, I was getting some useful information out of him. "If the high priestess is powerful enough, then yes, you could be impervious to flame. If her power level were milder then it would only reduce the damage you took. A third-degree burn instead of a first, for example."

"Any idea how powerful she is?"

"Unfortunately no. I cannot read her."

My eyebrow lifted. "But you can read other people?"

"Yes," Kastio replied succinctly.

"Why can't you read her?"

"I do not know."

I stared at the divine being that had been sent by Apollo to help me and wondered why he didn't know. He was supposed to be the one with the answers. If he didn't know, did that mean something was off about Morrígan?

Kastio's eyes dropped to my neck. His already brooding expression darkened. It had seemed impossible for him to look more morose than he normally did but he'd just proved me wrong.

"I must go," he said in his deepest of tones.

There were few times that Kastio had ever told me he had to leave. Those occurrences had been when he'd been called to guide another for a few months. I considered asking him when he'd be back but I didn't want to sound as if I needed him. I didn't need him. He wasn't all that useful when he was around.

Perhaps it was the urgent way he'd uttered the words that made me want to ask why he was so suddenly leaving. When his slate colored eyes lifted up again I saw the strangest emotion within them: fear. I'd opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong but the rush of his usual parting greeting cut me off.

"Hera keep you safe."

I was left staring in bewilderment at the spot he'd inhabited.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I'd needed a day off. Perhaps it was irresponsible of me with a deadline looming over my head and all. I felt a little guilty for it a few times as I'd walked the sidewalks around my favorite boutiques. But not guilty enough to stop.

My day of shopping ended with a lengthy stop at Barnes and Nobles for a strawberry smoothie and a sit near the travel books. The retail therapy had returned my sanity to its typical, partial state. I'd counted myself lucky that pushing the balance on my credit cards higher was all that it took to get that state back.

I'd found a nice black silk mandarin collar shirt on clearance at one of my favorite out of the way boutiques. It was dressy enough that I could wear it with a long black skirt to the Chamber Tea. And that high collar would hide my new mark.

Each time I'd stepped in front of a dressing room mirrors and seen the sooty raven on my neck in the glass behind me my spirits had lowered just a little bit. It had put a damper on my usual gusto enough that I'd skipped more than half of the shops I usually hit. The thin plastic in my wallet was better for it.

I'd thought nothing of the people gathered on the sidewalk outside the row house as I drove by to find a parking spot near dinnertime. The raised voices I heard while coming around the corner, bags in hand, didn't particularly concern me either. But when the guy who lived across the hall from my apartment stepped in front of me with a scowl etched into the craggy skin around his mouth, I had to pay attention.

"The entire first floor is flooded," he informed me gruffly.

My recently plucked eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Flooded?"

His wrinkled forehead grew more so as he nodded. "Super says a pipe broke in the wall between apartment two and three." I lived in apartment three. "Everything is destroyed. He didn't even have flood insurance," the man spit his S's out.

The words he spoke were familiar but I didn't follow their meaning as quickly as I ought to. "What do you mean 'flooded'?"

"I mean there is two and a half feet of water in there!" He shouted in my face as if it were my fault. "Everything I own is destroyed!"

If everything he owned was destroyed then...

I looked down at the bags in my hand and wondered if these were my sole possessions now. Crap! My flute! I dropped the bags where I stood, uncaring about my new blouse and pair of novels, and darted toward the door.

"You can't go in there..." My neighbor's shout went ignored.

He hadn't been exaggerating. There literally was two and a half feet of water in the place and it was steadily rising. Running in that much water was a difficult feat to accomplish at best.

I shoved my way into the apartment to find, much to my relief, that I'd left my flute in its case on the second from the top shelf of my living room bookcase. With that worry behind me I sloshed my way into the bedroom.

The bed was nearly submerged, my collection of shoes hopelessly ruined and all but the top three of my chest of drawers were dripping. However most of my good clothes hung on hangers in the closet. Many of them were yet untouched. Only the longest of the gowns -- which of course were the most expensive -- had been ruined. I pulled things out by the armful and started transporting them out to the car. The flute case was nestled atop the first load.

My building superintendent caught me at the tail end of the race to save my worldly possessions. He attempted to shout at me for going into what he was calling a "dangerous situation". I didn't understand why it was a problem. The power had been turned off to the building and it hadn't been a sewage pipe that had broken.

I left my cell phone number with the furious superintendent, ignored his biting remarks about how stupid I'd been, and then trudged my drenched self back to the car to sit on a towel in the driver's seat. My eyes stared into the rearview mirror at the backseat that was piled with clothes, winter coats, towels, a compound hunting bow, a pair of slingshots, a collection of wet handguns and everything else I could shove into the few duffle bags that hadn't been submerged.

What the hell was I going to do now?

It only took me a few minutes to remember I owned a brownstone across town with a furnished lobby. I could at least store my things there and catch some shuteye on the stiff leather sofa tonight until I figured out the answer to that question.

It was an uncomfortably cold trip to the brownstone. The Mini's heater wasn't working as fast as I'd like. The afternoon had turned unseasonably cold. That could be a problem because there was no heat at the brownstone. None of my blankets had survived the flood. I'd have to get warm with some of the few towels that had. Paying the bills for gas and water at a building I wasn't using had seemed like a waste. The only things I'd bothered with were electricity and the high speed WiFi for the security system.

By the time I'd finished hauling things inside, getting warm was no longer an issue. I was sweaty, uncomfortable and more than a little smelly. I cleaned up as best I could with the towels and pulled on fresh clothes. Unfortunately the only other garments that had survived the flood beside my dressy outfits were my very casual knit pants and tank tops, the items I wore to bed. I'd have to go shopping...again.

I'd been trying to find a new apartment near Symphony Hall using only my phone for a few hours when there was a knock on the lobby door. I sat still, hoping whoever it was would believe the place empty and leave. Perhaps they hadn't seen the Mini in the parking lot out back.

"Miss Denham?"

Aiden Bruce. Why was I not surprised he'd be the first to track me here?

"May I come in, please?"

I attempted to make my breathing shallow. He didn't know that I was here. I could have left my car here and gotten a ride with someone else.

"Though that is a valiant attempt at stealth, I can still hear you breathing," he said, proving I sucked at hiding. "I brought dinner with me, a large double cheese pizza from Manzetti's."

That was all he'd needed to say. I bounded from the leather sofa with the furious growling of my stomach spurring me onward. Aiden's smirk was ignored in favor of the pizza pie he was holding out. I snatched the cardboard box up and went back inside without bothering to greet him.

The vampire remained on the lobby's edge while I scarfed down an entire piece of pizza so greasy it dripped off my fingers. Food that might kill me before something supernatural did the deed first was my favorite kind.

"You will stay with me," he said imperiously.

"That only works when Morrígan does it," I replied without thinking and then immediately flushed scarlet when I realized what I'd admitted.

"I have guestrooms that go unused for years at a time," he added rather than comment. "And plenty of hot water. Manzetti's is two blocks away."

My response was dry. "Not even the promise of the most divine pizza in the world will get me to move in with you, Mr. Bruce."

He ignored my refusals as if they hadn't been spoken at all. "You're still under my employ. I won't have my employees living in destitution."

"I'm not under your employ and I'm not destitute," I refuted with a finger jabbed upward, "There's a roof over my head and you brought me pizza."

"You have no running water."

I tossed him a sharp look. "How do you know?"

Aiden exhaled noisily. "I won't take no for an answer."

"I've already booked a room at the Hilton," I lied.

And then my phone rang. From the number listed on the screen I gathered my evening was getting even better. Briefly I contemplated if debating with Aiden was preferable to listening to Morrígan. In the end I decided she was safer over the phone than he was in person.

"Hello?"

"Lore," her throaty greeting warmed me just a little. "I've just heard of the unfortunate accident at your apartment building. You will stay with me," she repeated the vampire's words verbatim.

"No, I won't," I argued despite what I'd told him. "I've got a room booked..."

"A room," she interrupted me sourly. "You waste money that could be used to replace your ruined things."

I decided a diversion tactic was in order. "How did you even find out? It's only been a few hours."

She, of course, didn't fall for it. "Come here and I will explain."

"I don't want to know that badly."

Morrígan's husky laugh made my insides flutter. "You are welcome at the stronghold for as long as you like, dearest. No, you are more than welcome, you are desired."

Gods, it was cheesy and still it worked. The image of her writhing beneath my hands flashed in my head. My fingers pressed to my lips so that I could gnaw on the nail of my index finger. The invitation was so tempting that I could taste it.

"But until then, I will dream of you," she said softly before disconnecting the call.

My teeth grit tightly while I silently screamed.

The frustration I was feeling quickly turned into suspicion. My apartment was flooded and then conveniently both the vampire and high priestess offer to have me stay with them within hours. I hadn't told a soul. Which meant either they were both having me watched or they knew the flood was going to happen before it had. Had the flood been a ploy to get me to stay with them? And if so, which one was the culprit?

"Did you do this on purpose?" I demanded abruptly enough that Aiden blinked back confusion.

He didn't move a muscle but those needed to form the question. "Do what?"

"Did you have my apartment flooded so you could try to make me move in with you?"

He laughed. It was a quick, sardonic sound of disbelief. His voice dropped low into a deep register I'd not heard him use. "I have far better ways of persuading you to move in with me."

My eyebrows lifted at him but I wasn't about to ask what he meant. I had a pretty good idea anyway. "Well, thank you for my pizza and the kind offer but I've made other arrangements."

"She is right," Aiden said rather than bow out easily. "A hotel room is a waste of money you'll need elsewhere. You should stay with one of us."

I let my eyebrows drift to the middle of my eyebrow, snarking, "Oh, I have a choice now?"

He bowed his head in answer.

I made my eyes drop to the phone in my hand. "My choice is to go it alone, as usual."

"Then you might like to know that there's a secret entrance in this building that leads to an apartment, probably furnished, that the vampire who owned it before Marco resided in."

Secret entrance? That sounded too much like something out of an episode of Scooby Doo to be true. I glanced up to find that the expression on his face had not changed from the blank look his handsome features often held. He was completely serious. I'd been about to ask why he'd never bothered to tell me about this secret before but decided against it. Aiden obviously played his cards close to his chest. I would remember that.

Ten minutes later I stood in a bedroom decorated in deep oranges fabrics, bright red accents and exquisite gold fringe. I was alone. I wasn't quite sure how I'd managed to get the vampire to leave. He might have simply wanted to. There hadn't been much more than a nod and a murmured goodbye before he'd walked away. Whatever the reason, I was suspicious of how easy it had been.

The secret entrance had actually been an entire stone wall that only someone with the strength of ten men, like Aiden, could have hoped to move. I was concerned that it would close while I was inside but the vampire had assured me it wouldn't. Still I'd looked over the ceiling with keen eyes for any evidence that the secret door hadn't been more than a big rock. Nothing was visible but the stain of dust around where the rock had been standing untouched for who knew how long.

I recalled the story I'd been told upon moving to the city. Marco had been a bad ass in Boston among both the Underground and the...regular ground (I no longer knew what to call the rest of the world and that bothered me). Maiming, killing, and running drugs had been his mainstays. He'd had firepower, literally, to make his point.

As a cocky young Fire witch, Marco had stormed the brownstone one fateful night and caught Boston's Second unawares. With the help of a few well-aimed fireballs Marco had killed one of the three vampire rulers of Boston, one the three most powerful undead in the entire state. Marco had done it for the reputation it would earn him and for the brownstone itself. That fateful night had started the reign of terror he'd held on the Underground for decades.

The remembrance of that story made me recall my own history in the city as I slid onto the strange smelling bed. Not long after I'd moved to Boston, with the intention of fully immersing myself into symphony life and taking it easy on my nocturnal activities, I'd run into a far older Marco shaking a helpless girl down in front of me. She'd been the girlfriend of one of his runners. After he'd killed the runner for what he'd deemed betrayal (sampling the wares a little too often), he'd decided she was holding product out on him. The girl couldn't have been more than eighteen and she'd been as human as they came. So I'd killed Marco without compunction to save her.

I'd forgotten all about the little Underground rule (perk is what everyone else called it) that said if there were no immediate living heirs to an evil bastard's empire, the empire transferred to the evil bastard's killer. That night I'd become to owner of the brownstone, several East Boston buildings, a few cars, and a shit ton of cocaine thanks to the "Rule of Succession". Everything but the brownstone had been donated to charity or destroyed.

Unfortunately what I'd done to Marco had earned me the name the "Black Death". The tales of him turning into a shrieking bag of oozing blisters had reached far and wide across the Underground. But the descriptions of my appearance were so wildly varied that I was able to keep my identity a secret. It helped that I rarely used the building and that people had forgotten it was one of Marco's residences because he'd long since abandoned it.

Marco's death had also introduced me to Morrígan. I wasn't sure how to feel about that anymore. I'd known the moment I'd met her that her interest in me wasn't that of the ally she'd purported herself to be. No, I knew she wanted something far more from me. And that knowledge had made me avoid her as much as possible.

I should have tried harder.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Your hair is getting long," Andy, the principle clarinetist for the Boston Symphony Orchestra, told me as I took a sip from a sweating bottle of spring water that spelled naive backwards.

"Been too busy to get it cut," I told him dully. My chin nodded toward his narrow chest. "New suit?"

"Yeah." His thin lips lifted into a broad smile. "My new guy says the old ones are getting...what was the word he used? Shabby? It was probably something with five syllables. He's a prof over at Harvard. You know how those kinds are."

I didn't but I nodded anyway. "Well, he has good taste."

His brown eyes scanned over me, clearly judging my appearance. "The severe librarian look actually works on you."

Was that a backhanded compliment? I couldn't tell for sure. I was wearing my new black blouse and a long black velvet skirt. I assumed he was calling me a severe librarian because the only skin I was showing were my face and hands. Without my good blow dryer and straightening iron I had to resort to pulling my sable hair back into a low ponytail. I wished I'd remembered a nice clip or a pair of hair sticks because it looked rather...shabby.

"This is the my-apartment-is-flooded look," I told him.

Andy's face practically exploded in surprise. "Oh my gosh! You lived in that place?" From the look on his face you'd have thought his ten thousand square foot waterfront condo had fallen into the river. I knew it wasn't that he was feeling particularly empathetic for my situation. No, he was ecstatic to have juicy gossip fall into his lap.

"Yeah," I replied hesitantly.

He leaned forward as if the subject matter were private. "What happened?"

I shrugged lightly because it was no big deal. "Water pipe in the wall broke."

"Where are you staying now?"

"Hilton," I lied. "Until I can find another apartment. Know of anything good?"

"I might have a few suggestions," his eyes got a far off look that eventually flared bright. "One of my exes is a real estate agent. We're still friends. I'll give him a call." From the severe twinkle in his eye I was suddenly worried for his ex. "Are you still at that same cell number?"

"Yes," I answered warily. If it would get me a new apartment fast, I could be grateful. "Thanks."

The others musicians formed a line near the side entrance to the small room. Andy moved to join our colleagues with a smile aimed back at me. I set my water down on the table beside my flute case, dried my hands off on my velvet skirt and then picked up my instrument. This was going to put me to the test.

It was mid-afternoon and I was exhausted. I hadn't gotten much sleep in the strange bed. It had smelled old, unused and like someone I didn't recognize -- all true scents. My plan was to actually rent a room at the Hilton tonight but first I had to get through the Chamber Tea without dozing off.

I took my place up front because today, unlike performances with the whole symphony, I would be sitting on the edge. Chamber performances were my least favorite kind. There was no place to hide in a quintet. When the flute sounded flat, everyone knew it was you. Not that I ever sounded flat.

I shouldn't still be getting stage fright. I'd been playing professionally for three years and in school bands for over a decade. But it was there, the fluttering in my stomach and taut nerves before walking out onto the stage, especially in intimate performances like this one.

"Go ahead," Harry, the bassoonist, called from behind me.

That was my cue. I pushed my shoulders back, turned the doorknob and then walked out into the bright white room. The place was filled with chattering people arranged around circular tables beneath the glow of chandeliers. Their speech softened when they realized the performers were arriving.

I nearly tripped over my own feet when I saw who was seated at the table nearest my music stand. Grayson Dennison's mouth curved up into his warmest of smiles now that I'd focused on his table. He was dressed in business casual, a nice brown suede jacket that softened his timber brown eyes, a cream shirt beneath it and tan slacks. His dirty blonde hair was still as long as it had been. He'd tamed it a little with some styling gel. But it wasn't him who worried me. It was the stunning creature seated beside him.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that the high priestess was in attendance. She'd mentioned the tea just the other day. And Morrígan had been to every event I'd performed in since she'd met me. She'd even attended the same event on different days with the excuse that it had been "so spectacular that she'd had to see it twice".

I managed to drop down into my chair without falling. But the few minutes we had to get our music straight and our instruments tuned were nearly all filled by my trying not to notice Morrígan out of the corner of my eye.

Good gods, she looked absolutely amazing. Her shining dark hair was divided into two asymmetrical halves that were pulled into a messy bun at the base of her neck. She'd worn a loose white cotton jacket that was unbelted and unbuttoned, a pair of crisp white cotton capri pants and white open-toe wedged shoes. Unfortunately that was all she was wearing. The jacket wasn't hiding a lovely blouse or even a tank top. Beneath it was only her creamy soft skin.

As if knowing I was paying attention, Morrígan leaned toward Gray to speak quietly. The move slid the jacket to one side far enough that the curve of her right breast was clearly visible. My temperature rose a few degrees. Already my fingers were sweaty against the cool metal of my flute and I hadn't even begun playing. I forced myself to focus, to forget she was here, and more importantly forget that I wanted to walk over there and slide my hands beneath that jacket to see if it really was all she was wearing.

What had she done to me?

The first piece we were playing this afternoon was the early Romantic composition I'd had to fix because of tempo problems. There was a brief shot of concern that I'd failed to copy it properly. It was enough of a worry that I was able to concentrate on the performance at hand.

I quickly played a scale up and down to check the tune of my flute then skimmed my hand-written sheet music for obvious errors against the original while waiting for the bassoonist to begin the opening solo. Once the mouthpiece pressed against my lips everything in the room faded except for my four associates and the sounds we made together. It was peaceful to have no concerns for the moment except the notes sprawled across the pages.

The catharsis playing my instrument had brought was short lived. Too soon I found myself standing beside my chair bowing before the gathering of a hundred people. My associates began walking for the door and I with them. We knew if we didn't leave as a group the audience would assume we were staying for meet and greet. Those sessions were terribly difficult to break out of even with a small group of attendees like this.

But Gray and Morrígan stopped me before I'd gone five steps. My teeth set though I smiled on the outside. For once it wasn't the Prime of Massachusetts that I was worried about.

The high priestess stepped forward until she was within mere inches of me. That heather scent filled my nose as she slid her fingers over my shoulders. They quickly curled behind me. Before I could protest she pulled me against her half bared chest. Her silky lips found mine and she coaxed my mouth open with a sensual slide of her tongue against my bottom lip. I was vaguely aware of the hundred people watching and Gray a foot away. It made for a stiff reception to her open-mouthed kiss. Morrígan made a sound of disappointment as she pulled aside. Her lips were next to my left ear a moment later.

"Your playing arouses...much in me," she said in a sultry whisper.

A shiver ran down my spine. I attempted to tactfully extract myself from her. She let me go with a small pout that would have looked childish on anyone else. On her it was delectable. My cheeks seared with embarrassment and my temperature matched. It didn't help that Andy, the gossipy clarinetist, had lagged behind to witness the whole scene.

I managed to form a wan smile despite my very deep state of mortification. "Thank you for coming." I looked to Gray. "I know how much you despise Classical music."

His timber brown eyes were darker than usual. The hard-edged gaze he'd pinned me with wasn't pleasant. Ordinarily Gray would tell me that he enjoyed any music I played even if it lacked any sort of danceable beat. Then we'd get into how this was some of the earliest recorded dance music. But today Gray wasn't so much as opening his mouth.

"Beautiful playing," someone to my left said.

I nodded and murmured thanks.

"How long have you been playing?"

I knew if I answered this without moving that I'd be stuck here answering all manner of tedious questions over and over until I could make an excuse to leave. I needed to make that excuse now.

"I have to go," I told the pair in front of me with a meaningful glance to the man waiting on my left. "I've been playing for fourteen years," I answered politely on my way toward the exit. "Thanks for coming."

Over the red carpet I hurried to the room that held my purse and case. The others had nearly finished breaking their instruments down and cleaning them. Andy had been chatting with the oboe player until he saw me enter. I was tempted to turn around and run for the door when he hopped up and rushed me as fast as the chicken legs the suit was hiding could move him.

"You have been holding out on me, Laura Denham," Andy made several tsking sounds. "When did you switch sides?"

"Sides?" Playing stupid was something I considered myself a pro at.

His volume lowered. "How long have you been a lesbian?"

I supposed I couldn't call him rude. He was openly gay. Perhaps this was appropriate behavior in their circles.

"I'm not a lesbian," I said as quietly as I could manage.

Andy shook his head with a frustrated sigh. "Fine, then how long have you been bi..."

I made a cutting gesture to shut him up. "I don't know that I'm that either."

He laughed a little too raucously. "Then how do you explain a lip lock with that exotic bombshell?"

Cheeks searing I replied, "I can't explain it. She's a friend."

His chin lowered nearly to his chest. He looked up at me from beneath half-hooded eyes. There was a twist to the lips that spoke a second later. "Honey, that didn't look like you're just friends. You two clearly have something."

I concentrated on my flute to avoid seeing him. "Well, when I figure out what's going on, you'll be the first to know."

"Budding illicit romance!" He effused with a hand over his heart that saw in my peripheral vision. "How captivating. We've gotta have coffee together."

Maybe I could turn this to my advantage. "You call your real estate friend and I'll meet you for coffee after I sign on a new apartment."

"You sly one," Andy teased with a tweak of my nose. "It's a deal."

Thankfully he left me to chat with the bassoonist.

I sat running the cloth over my flute until everyone had left. And then I sat for longer. I was a coward. I knew that outside that door one of them, probably both of them, would be waiting. Gray would want to know what the hell was going on. Morrígan would try to persuade me to go home with her. I didn't know if I was strong enough to resist her.

I stared at the nondescript white wall in front of me through sightless eyes. My thoughts were on why it was that I wanted to resist Morrígan. I considered myself an open-minded person. I didn't think people loving a member of the same sex were ethically or morally wrong. But I'd never particularly had an interest in being one of them. And yes, I couldn't lie to myself, I was embarrassed by the thought of people thinking I was a lesbian. But that wasn't the bigger issue.

The bigger issue was that Morrígan had some sort of hold on me. She held power over me through lust. She could make my brain turn to jelly. She could make me do things that weren't in my nature and that scared the living crap out of me.

Perhaps if I'd felt something for her other than lust I might not fear her as I did. There was nothing else. I didn't love her. I didn't think I'd risk my life for her any more than I'd risk it for a stranger, perhaps less because I knew she was capable of taking care of herself. That meant I didn't even count her as a friend as I'd told Andy. What did I count her as?

There was a knock at the door. My head whipped toward it. Fear rushed into my gut with a sudden slam of nausea. I hated that I could face down Rhinos and murderous shapeshifters but I was afraid of a confronting the woman I'd slept with a few days ago.

Gray's voice called out a second later. "Lore? Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I admitted softly. I knew he'd hear it.

"Can we come in?"

I supposed speaking to them in private was better than out there in the corridor where lingering audience could overhear. There were bigger secrets to keep than my confused sexuality. "Okay," I said to the flute in my hand.

The door opened and of course Gray was in the lead. His eyes were crinkled in concern but his mouth was drawn thin in irritation. Morrígan trailed him with a serene expression. I focused on Gray. He was the one I owed most. He, like Aiden, had saved my ass a time or two.

Gray made a beeline for me and surprised me by taking the flute out of my hands, setting it aside and drawing me into the warmth of his arms. When his fingers moved up to my chin I realized what was happening. He was trying to lay a claim to me as Morrígan had.

"Gray," I said in a softly chiding tone while pushing at his chest with the palm of my hand. I didn't need this. He knew where he stood with me. He wasn't supposed to try to change that, not seriously.

The hurt that filled his eyes when he pulled back pained me. I opened my mouth to say something, to take it back, but he'd already turned away with a jerky movement. Morrígan attempted to glide forward to inhabit the space he'd been in.

I held up a single finger at her and wagged it back and forth. "No. Not you either."

My response stilled Gray's retreat but he didn't turn back around. Morrígan's gorgeous frame stiffened.

I knew she deserved some sort of reason so I explained, "Someone is trying to do something that will endanger us all. Until I stop them I can't be distracted by anyone or anything."

"I am a distraction?" She asked with rounded eyes that were equal parts doe-like innocence and barely checked anger. It was a strange mix that had me in thrall until my brain processed what she'd asked.

I couldn't help but laugh, an almost desperate sound. "You are way more than a distraction."

Morrígan shifted her weight onto one hip and moved her right arm just so. The combined effort slid the jacket open. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her bared breast. I stood transfixed, riding the heat that was beginning to coil within me.

"What have you done to me?" I whispered a now familiar question.

Her eyelids hooded her brilliant blue irises. "Nothing you didn't want, dearest," she responded in her huskiest of voices.

Gray's body whipped around. I knew he was watching us but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her to see more than that.

"You will come home with me, Lore," she said in the imperious way that was hers alone.

"Lore? She's calling you Lore now?"

My cheeks flushed at Gray's angry question. He had every right to be upset. Only my oldest friends got to call me Lore. What had I been thinking when I'd given the nickname to her? Oh, right. I hadn't been thinking at all.

I forced my eyes shut and shook myself physically. When they opened again I focused on her face. "No distractions, Morrígan." And that was all that I said before taking my case, the flute and my purse to walk out on them both.

I'd walked three steps from Symphony Hall when a blast of frigid water hit me in the shins. It was powerful enough to knock me over. Unfortunately where I'd landed was still within its path. I rolled over onto my belly then crawled out of the pounding spray.

The first thing I'd thought was, ouch that hurt like a bitch. Then I'd lamented yet another outfit being destroyed by water. And finally I'd come up with the thought that this wasn't normal. That was when a second spray hit me in the back.

It slammed me onto my stomach. My face dropped into a puddle of dirty sidewalk water. I was slack-jawed when it had happened. A mouthful of disgusting water had me gagging until I could break free of the spray and spit it all up.

With athleticism that had to be divine considering I never really worked out, I hopped to my feet out of the powerful jet and whirled around. It was just in time to observe the spray slithering snake-like toward me. That wasn't normal for an uncapped fire hydrant, was it?

Someone had to be manipulating the water. I glanced around for the culprit and saw both Morrígan and Gray standing near the building watching in mute surprise. Neither had made a move to help me until they realized I was looking at them.

I understood Morrígan's reluctance to tangle with water or a Water witch. It was her natural enemy. Gray on the other hand had no excuse. However he was the first to reach me thanks to his enhanced speed. He asked me something that I ignored. I was more interested in finding the witch that was responsible.

Contrary to what popular culture would have us believe, it isn't easy to spot a witch. Magic users generally didn't shout latin to get their power to work. And they didn't have to point a magic wand. Nor did they dress a certain way. I had no helpful figure on the sidewalk wearing a pointy hat or a menacing cloak, shaking a staff at me like a fantasy wizard. No, everyone nearby looked entirely normal.

More than a few of those normal people were paying attention to me. That was to be expected considering a fire hydrant with a mind of its own was attacking a woman. Anyone who didn't look would be suspect.

I spotted a car parked in the fire lane across the street. There was a blonde-haired man inside staring very intently at me with a finger in front of his face. He looked away when he saw me glance in his direction. That glance away looked guilty and perhaps worried. Instinct had me darting out toward him, vaulting over the gushing water to get there. He peeled into the street where I narrowly missed getting creamed by his beat-up blue Ford Escort.

When I turned to trudge back to the other side of the street in sopping wet clothes Gray stood waiting with my flute in his hand. He seemed to attempt to dry the silver metal with the corner of his suede jacket. He looked up awkwardly as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry. I just froze...I..." He glanced over at where I knew Morrígan still stood.

I made a dismissive gesture and hoped he'd shut up.

He spoke in a softer voice, "I shouldn't let my anger..."

I interrupted him impatiently. "I can take care of myself."

Apparently he was still angry because his eyes flared at me and his voice grew sharp. "Why you always gotta do that?"

This was another argument we'd had in the past. "This isn't your problem, Gray."

"What if I want to make it my problem, Laura?" Uh oh. He was using my actual name in that impatient, angry voice of his. "You going to get physical with me to stop me?"

"I don't want to fight with you," I said rather than give a straight answer.

It could be taken several ways. Just then I wasn't sure which way I meant it. I'd wanted something I could say that would allow me to leave.

He didn't move when I walked forward to get the flute from him. And he didn't give my instrument up either. Gray leaned forward so that he could lower his voice. But I still heard the anguish in it. "Why her?"

I didn't have an answer for him because I didn't have one for myself. So I yanked on the bottom of the flute until it came apart. Without the full length of it to give him leverage I was able to tug the other pieces out of his grip.

In the distance we heard what could only be described as an explosion. People gasped and screamed around us as the ground shook. Quicker than I could follow, Gray pounced forward to wrap his arms around me. I hoped it was to shield me from whatever attack he thought we were experiencing. Over his arm I saw a flaming ball of twisted steel crash to the ground five blocks down the busy street.

My mouth dropped open. That had once been a car, a blue car.

Gently I pushed at him. He made a kind of whimpering noise and clung tighter. I could feel his breath on my shoulder and the heat of his body beneath the drenched silk shirt. I might as well have been naked for all of the protection it gave me. Gray breathed in my scent in a ragged breath and whispered something I couldn't hear for all of the screams and sirens around us.

"Let go," I demanded sharply.

Thankfully he listened. But the anguish that had been in his eyes before was replaced with anger. I didn't have time to deal with that right now.

I marched over the sidewalk to grab hold of Morrígan's white cotton sleeve so that I could drag her around the corner where there were fewer witnesses. She managed to keep up with my hurried pace in her designer shoes. I wasn't quite sure why she was letting me do this to her. If she wanted me to stop all she'd had to do was burn me, a simple feat for a novice Fire witch. She even let me shove her against the stone wall without so much as warming the skin below my hand.

I brought my face in close to hers so that I could lower my voice. "Why did you do that?"

"Hmm."

Furious that she was making me spell it out, I hissed, "Why did you kill the Water witch? I needed him!"

"He tried to hurt you," Morrígan answered simply.

I was mildly shocked that she'd admitted to causing the explosion. "But he didn't hurt me. I just got a little wet."

"Because he is merely a novice Water witch," she said with a disgusted sniff. "This was a message to those that would tangle with you."

"I needed him alive, Morrígan!"

Her massive blue eyes blinked at me slowly. She was attempting to appear guileless. Oh, gods. What if she'd killed him to keep him from telling me who was behind this?

"You did this on purpose," I accused in a gritty voice that was coming from the back of my throat. "You don't want me to know who sent him."

Those brilliant blue eye crinkled inward. "Lore..."

"No," I snapped. "Don't call me that anymore."

Morrígan grabbed the hand that wasn't holding my flute. She used it to tug me forward and then slid it beneath her jacket to glide over her smooth breast. My breath caught in my throat when the heat instantly bloomed within me.

"Stop," I cried.

She let go of me but my hand remained where it was, feeling the firmness of the nipple teasing my fingers. I yanked my arm back like she'd burnt me. The quick gesture split the jacket wide. My knees nearly gave at the sight of her staring at me from beneath heavy lids, chest bared in front of the entire street. She was making no move to cover herself up.

The thoughts going through my head were far from concerned about whether or not she was betraying me. Even when I thought she could be the mastermind behind the kidnappings, the damage to my dad and the imminent demon summoning, my body still begged me to touch her. I couldn't decide if I wanted to suck myself dry of all of my foolish hormones or give in to their delicious whispers.

Someone whistled behind me. "Heya, sweetheart, let Papa lick those for you!"

My teeth set on edge because I had the very sharp urge to tear the man's tongue out so I could stuff it down his throat. I didn't know what I was doing until it was finished. A minute later Morrígan's jacket was pulled around her and every button was fastened. What I'd done, buttoning each and every plastic circle on her costly coat, had felt far more intimate than it ought to.

"Stay with me," she said in an unsteady voice that belied the calmness in her eyes.

The muscles in my neck felt heavy and tight as if it were a chore to shake my head. "I can't. I have a priestess of Water witches to see."

Morrígan opened her mouth to speak. I prayed to the gods that she wouldn't beg me. I didn't think I could say no if she actually swallowed her enormous pride enough to beg me.

"I need to go." I'd muttered the words as my feet hurried me away before she could say another word.

I pretended not to see Morrígan's figure pushing off the wall in my peripheral vision. I ignored Gray's questioning, heated gaze. I grabbed my purse and flute case and then speed-walked toward the parking lot with my heart hammering in my chest.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I had some serious frustration to work out which was why I wasn't too upset to hear the priestess of Water witches regularly visited the Dungeon on Saturday nights. The only Underground-club-worthy clothing I owned now was Morrígan's fetish outfit with the secret surprise. I figured the chances of meeting up with her there, with the remote control in her possession, were next to slim.

The man I did expect to see there didn't fail me. When I hopped off the last step onto the club's dull black dance floor I spotted Aiden Bruce across the room beside an iron maiden, sipping on something crimson that could have been fancy wine or human blood, neither would have surprised me. He'd been watching the entrance as if he were waiting for someone to arrive.

The vampire set his half-finished glass in the hands of a passing woman who might not even work there and then he started forward without taking his eyes from me. His kind of attention, that intent warmth in his silver eyes powerful enough to wake things that were usually dormant, made me hesitate in the entrance for a second longer than I should have. I used the gently swirling energy he'd awoken to propel myself forward and tear my gaze from him.

I didn't know if he'd jumped over everyone, faded into mist and coiled between them or if he'd merely shoved his way through, but Aiden was in front of me before I'd moved two steps. I'd been about to engage in avoidance tactics when his unchanged facial features captured my attention. How many nights was this now? Four? Five? I wanted to ask him why he'd settled on this beautiful face but was afraid of the answer.

Tonight he wasn't clad in business casual. That would have made him stand out more than he already did. No, tonight he had on a black leather outfit worthy of Morrígan's Adepts. The pants fit him like a second skin around his impressive thighs. His long sleeve shirt had muscle definition I wasn't certain he could actually claim, but since I'd never seen him shirtless, I couldn't truly say. Aiden's long chestnut hair looked Asian tonight. It was pulled up in a partial ponytail with much of it left free down his back.

He leaned forward so that I could hear him. It put his gloriously vanilla and cinnamon scented body a bit too close to me. "You're brave to wear that again."

My cheeks flushed upon recalling that he'd been there to witness Morrígan trying out her gift. "Everything else was ruined in the flood," I reminded him.

In a blank tone he said, "You're here to see the Water priestess no doubt."

That irritated me enough to get snippy. "Should I just assume that you know everything I'm going to do before I do it?"

"If I knew everything you did before you did it we'd have a rather stale relationship, wouldn't we?"

My cheeks warmed at the word relationship from his lips. My quick, sharp retort was, "Yeah, which is why it's damn good we don't have one."

"Hmm," he said in contemplation. "She is near the waterfall, of course."

"Oh, of course," I said sarcastically because I hadn't known there was a waterfall in the seedy club. There was also the issue of being more than a little uncomfortable with how close he was and how much I wanted to kiss his exposed neck.

"It's there, through that door. I would offer to show you but...as you know, we're to keep out of this." He jabbed his chin toward the right so that I could see the direction he'd meant.

I almost made a comment about how he hadn't done a very good job of keeping out of it thus far but I decided I didn't want to debate with him. He smelled good enough to lick. I needed to get the hell away from him before I decided to test that out.

I took a step to the right then turned back. "Um, stupid question, what does she look like?"

"She looks blue," he said simply. "You won't be able to miss her."

Blue. I didn't know what that meant. But I was going to find out.

It took me ten minutes to move a distance across the club that would have taken thirty-seconds had the place been empty. I'd had to squeeze in between people because I didn't have supernatural strength to make them move. Once or twice I'd considered plaguing someone simply to get their attention. Being an unknown in the Underground did have its drawbacks.

The room off to the right was partially shielded from the pounding techno beat the DJ spun out front. This new room had a surprisingly serene feeling. It was measurably cooler, had soft blue lighting running along the top and bottom of the walls and calming trance music piped in overhead.

In the far corner was a rushing waterfall that extended from the top of the fifteen-foot ceiling to cascade down into a shimmering pool on the floor. The pool was large enough to seat four people. I knew that because there were four people in it. Three bare-chested men surrounded a nude woman who was...blue.

Her pale skin glowed with an eerie icy sheen. The shoulder-length hair she sported in a spiky style was white as the driven snow. If I hadn't seen her eyes blink I might have thought her a corpse.

She looked up at the opposite corner while one of the men kissed her upturned neck. His hand disappeared between her legs beneath the water, moving rhythmically with the music's beat. Her lips were parted, a pale tongue just barely visible within. The others in the pool, two strapping young men, were too busy necking each other hungrily to note the heavy petting going on beside them.

It was quite a sensual scene. I doubted anyone in the room could claim to be unaffected by it. I almost hated to break it up. But this woman could be responsible for Jim's near-death experience. And she surely knew the bastard that had flooded my apartment and had tried to drown me on the sidewalk.

I boldly walked across the room to stop at the edge of the pool. Now that I was closer I could see that the water overflowed into two channels that curled back around to disappear beneath the wall beside the waterfall. A self-sustaining water feature that was as attractive as it was functional. I'd never have thought of putting a combination hot tub and waterfall into a nightclub, probably because state inspectors would have a heart attack over it in an ordinary club. But as usual, the Dungeon didn't have to comply with state inspections. The state didn't know it existed.

The blue woman glanced up at me with a sigh. "You're in my light," she called out sharply.

"I'll move as soon as you give me the information I came for," I replied. I was feeling a bit braver now that I knew I had only to tangle with the people in the smaller room rather than the entire club were things to go south.

"This is my day off," she glared daggers at me. "You want info, you make a fuckin' appointment like everyone else."

"Wrong answer," I said with a quick pull of the pistol my rain coat had been hiding. It was aimed at her head before any of the guys in the pool realized what had happened. I held a palm up to still them. "One of yours tried to kill me this afternoon. You're going to tell me who or I'm going to return the favor."

"My Water witches don't kill," she answered with what sounded like certainty in her Dorchester accent but her twisted lips and glare made it difficult to believe her.

"He had blonde hair and he drove a blue Ford Escort."

Her eyes rounded just before she shot out of the pool toward me while screaming, "You killed Escobar!"

Apollo's Warning kicked in. I saw that not only did she intend to claw me in the face with her dangerously sharp fingernails but that a man behind me had a knife, a long, deadly hunting instrument, and he planned to stab me with it. I stepped out of the way to avoid both.

What occurred after was mass confusion, screaming and a steadily reddening pool of water. The man, whoever he was, had continued on his mission to stab me but had instead gored the priestess straight through the chest. I might never find out who he was because someone snapped his neck in the scuffle without my seeing it. The priestess fell back into the arms of her brawny lover with a shuddering cry, her sightless eyes stared up into the cool blue lights above her.

Now, I wish I could say that I hadn't been pleased with the opportunity her wound afforded me, but it would have been a lie. I knew there was no hope of the woman surviving without my intervention. And since it was probably my fault she was in this position, it was my duty to fix her.

I dashed forward, jumping straight into the pool's surprisingly frigid water and then shoved my pistol in between her lover's angry eyes. "Pull the knife out of her if you want her to live."

He gave me a glare that could have frozen my toes off if the water weren't already doing the trick. But like a good little boy he tore the instrument from the priestess's chest. Blood rushed out of her mouth with each of her quick, choking breaths. I wrenched her body out of his grip into my lap. She was nude, still, which meant I'd have little trouble finding skin to touch.

My arm curled around her belly so that I could press my left palm to the wound that was just under her rib cage. I pushed against the one at her back with my right hand. Silently I willed the Healing energy to flow into her and make her good as new.

A network of veins, muscle and organs lit up in front of my eyes. The golden light of my power shot from around my heart down into my hands and into the delicate network that made up the Water priestess. It converged in the center of her to Heal the mortal damage the knife had done to her liver, kidney, and stomach.

The only sounds I heard were the roaring of the power moving through me, the beating of her heart, the rushing of her blood and her labored breaths. I knew there were people nearby, that a waterfall was falling at my back and that music was playing but my every sense was focused completely on her.

Her head curled up until our eyes met. Hers fixed on me with undisguised awe. The warmth of my Healing power seemed to bleed the blue right off her skin and the white off her hair. She quickly regained a healthy ruddy glow across her body beginning at her stomach. The muscle knit itself back together from the inside out toward my hands. I tore my attention away from her eyes to supervise the wound.

Before I could progress to sealing her wound shut I noticed something deep within her that wasn't right. There was dark matter attached to her uterus. It was bad enough that she probably couldn't have children.

I hated this. I hated being faced with something that probably wasn't supernaturally related. It was always an ethical question. Could I live with myself for failing to Heal it simply because it would be screwing with Fate to do otherwise? The answer was almost always no

"Priestess," I whispered in an effort to keep the others from hearing me while meeting her gaze once again. Her attention was still locked on me. "Do you want me to fix your uterus?"

Her eyes somehow went larger. They were massive like those on young girls in Japanese animation. "You...you can do that? Yes! Yes, oh god! Yes, please!"

Her answer had sounded orgasmic. Had I not been distracted by the power flowing into her I'd probably have been a little embarrassed. Once the wound had finished knitting itself together I sent the power lower to wipe away the benign tissue that probably caused her all manner of monthly problems.

The priestess grabbed me by the cheeks as soon as I'd pulled my hands back. She'd twisted around in my lap so she could shove me back into the spray of the waterfall. I flailed, thinking she was trying to drown me, when I realized none of the water was actually hitting me. It flowed around me instead as if there were an invisible umbrella overhead. The priestess stood in front of me, naked as the day she was born with the water flowing behind her like a curtain.

There was intent in her eyes, intent I'd seen on other faces before, she wanted to kiss me. I held my palms up in front of me. "I'm sorry that you were hurt," I said hastily. "Someone obviously wants me dead."

"It isn't me," she said calmly. No, she definitely didn't want me dead. I saw that clearly in the way her gaze had settled on my lips. "You wanted information. You've earned the right to get it. Hell, you've earned the right to whatever the fuck you want from me." And that gaze lowered to take me in.

This felt very strange, holding a conference with a naked woman behind a curtain of water in a crowded club. I should be used to messed up things like this by now. But I wasn't. That was probably a good thing.

I focused on the task at hand to avoid the discomfort of the situation. Calmly I told her, "Someone flooded my apartment yesterday and then today tried to kill me with an out of control fire hydrant in front of Symphony Hall. Unfortunately someone else killed him before I could find out who sent him or why. I really, really need to know who is behind this."

For the first time since I'd started healing her she glanced away. It was an abrupt and almost fearful move. I held up both hands, made a waving gesture and nodded at her. She couldn't talk here, which made sense. I could handle that. But she hadn't said she wouldn't talk.

The priestess surprised the hell out of my by pouncing forward and shoving me against the wall. Her face was a kissing distance from mine. "This isn't about information. You obviously want me," she said in a low voice. "I could tell in the first glance at you."

I'd been about to argue with her that she was crazy until she'd said that. Her first glance had been at me ready to shoot her. This wasn't her trying to come on to me. This was a diversion tactic.

She ran a finger over my jaw line. "Let's go to my place."

"Yes," I played along.

She took my hand and tugged me out of the waterfall. This time the water did hit me. I shivered as the cold liquid sluiced over my lofty hair onto the trench coat, that was doing little to keep the leather cat suit dry, and down into my stupid knee-high boots. It was going to be nearly impossible to walk out of there with any dignity in squeaking shoes and hair plastered to my skull.

Her brawny lover had a broad white garment ready for her when she stepped out of the pool. She gracefully pushed her arms into the bell sleeves then waited with an arched eyebrow as her lover gawked at the unblemished skin beneath her rib cage. He glanced between the smooth skin and my face in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

While they made arrangements for their car to be brought, I pulled my boots off so I could empty the water that had taken up residence inside them back into the pool. Then I raided the dead guy's pockets. He stupidly had identification on him, Clarence Hinder, Jr. of Matthew Lane in Braintree. Pity, Clarence Senior wouldn't be pleased that his son had died in an undisclosed location with no loved ones nearby. Then again, killers like him rarely had loved ones.

The Water priestess made a big show of tugging me to my feet away from where I knelt beside the killer's body. Her little drama included kissing me on the lips in front of everyone gathered in the small room.

"Priestess." Her lover's irritation had apparently won out because his tone was sharp and indignant. "She killed Escobar. How can you kiss her?"

The woman waved him off without letting go of me. "She said someone else killed him."

"And you believe her?"

In an impatient tone she replied, "She saved my life, Gerard. Yes, I believe her."

Her judgment wasn't good enough for he snapped, "How do you know she didn't pay someone to stab you just so she could conveniently save your life?"

The priestess's voice went low. "You know better than to argue with me."

His face exploded in rage that carried into his scream, "She killed Escobar!"

Apparently the guy in the crappy blue Ford had been prominent among the Water witches. Maybe he'd been able to part the waters of the Boston Harbor when he wasn't busy flooding Back Bay apartments.

"No, she did not."

The husky voice made my back go ramrod straight. My cheeks flushed guiltily before I could stop them. I instantly wondered how much Morrígan had seen. Had she seen me cradling a naked woman to my chest?

The Fire high priestess emerged from the shadow of the doorway wearing a cat suit identical to mine but in white. On her it looked positively sinful. Her dark hair was pulled high off her head in a fall of shining strands. She was every ounce the dominatrix the suit had been crafted for.

"Morrígan," the water priestess greeted sourly.

Morrígan's expression was guarded. "Talise," she said what I assumed was the Water witch's name. "I am responsible for the passing of the witch that attacked her. His strike was conducted in broad daylight in front of a very public institution. There was nothing discreet or natural about the tactics he chose to employ."

Talise's eyes narrowed at her. "Igniting a man's gas tank while he drives is discreet and natural?"

"It is more easily explained than heat-seeking water."

The Water witch sniffed indignantly. "This will brought before the Covens, Morrígan."

The Fire priestess's voice hardened along with her gaze. "I won't apologize for defending my Brand."

I didn't like the sound of that in this context, especially not considering the new mark on my neck. I liked even less the pinching at the bridge of Talise's nose upon hearing it. Her eyes shot to me then to the Fire witch and back again. I saw them flick down the leather cat suits we both wore.

"Your Brand is coming home with me," Talise sneered.

"No," Morrígan's eyes switched to mine. "She is not."

I'd been so close to getting information out of the woman. The arrival of Morrígan was going to ruin everything. And who did she think she was? I could go home with whomever I wanted.

I spoke up for myself. "See, that's where you're wrong."

Talise's lips spread into a triumphant grin.

"I didn't think you were partial to women, Talise," Morrígan commented blandly. Her brilliant blue eyes slid to the right to where the Water witch's lover stood still scowling. "In fact, I thought you were only partial to Gerard and your ridiculous public displays together."

I wasn't interested in standing around while two priestesses got into a pissing match. Morrígan knew the true reason I'd sought Talise out. I couldn't help but wonder if she was interfering because she was hiding something, something Talise knew. Maybe Talise would follow me if I left.

The Water witch wasn't all that strong which made it easy to wiggle out of her grip. I ignored the questioning lift of Morrígan's eyebrows as I squelched past her on my way to the door. They could stay there or not.

This time my trip through the club was a bit easier. Several people had seen what had transpired in the blue room and had parted for me to pass. I was glad for it because droplets shook off me with an annoying pattering noise as I took the stairs to the surface.

Nights in New England during early May weren't exactly warm. There was nothing keeping the spring breeze off my body but the drenched leather and dripping trench coat. A shiver wracked me from head to toe.

Instinct told me I wasn't alone. Someone had followed me and it wasn't the priestess. I pressed my hand under the coat to find the gun. It was wet. It might not fire. But it might be deterrent enough for some who thought it would.

In the back of my head I knew who it was. It bothered me that I did, enough that I was unwilling to abandon my gun just yet.

"You can holster it. It's only me," Aiden said from a mere three feet behind me.

The fact that it was "only" him should be reason enough not to put my piece away. But I slid it back into the leather holster anyway. "What do you want?" I asked warily without turning or slowing.

"The wallet," he said simply. He was closer now, two feet to my right.

It was a moment before I worked out that he wanted me to give him the wallet I'd found on the guy with the knife. "Why?"

"I have contacts in law enforcement. I'll find out everything I can about your would-be assassin."

"I thought you couldn't get..."

Aiden interrupted me. "He was human. He shouldn't have been here in the first place."

He was right about that. So I fished the wallet out of my pocket, turned and gave it to him. The less work I had to do, the better.

I could tell by the question in his eyes that he wanted to say something. Thankfully the priestesses' noisy exit from the club saved me from having to hear it. A silver BMW sedan pulled up in front of them. I murmured a parting word to Aiden then ran forward in my squeaky shoes. The women were still fighting when I appeared on the opposite side of the car.

"...too good. But you're not," Talise was saying in an irritated tone. "You're no greater than any of the rest of us."

Morrígan's gaze slowly switched from the Water witch to where I stood quietly waiting to be noticed. "I would prefer you not get in the car," she said calmly, I assumed, for my benefit.

It confused the Water witch until she'd glanced around and caught sight of me. "Oh! I thought the bitch had chased you off. Go ahead, get in."

I did, knowing Morrígan was going to be upset. But I needed information now that she'd killed the guy that had it. I didn't owe her anything.

Talise said something else to the Fire priestess that I couldn't hear before opening her door and ducking her head beneath the roof to join me. Her lover dropped into the passenger seat with a score of jerky movements. Before their driver had a chance to put the vehicle in drive the Water witch pulled me against her chest for another showy kiss, no doubt for Morrígan's benefit.

I was let go once we'd reached a block away. That was when I clearly stated, "Just so we're clear, the kissing was only for show."

She nodded her head of white hair. "She's right. I'm not into women. Though I might change my mind." The witch gave me a playful wink. "So you want to know about who was pulling Escobar's strings."

My relief was a little too evident on my face. I hoped she didn't get insulted by it. Maybe if I stuck to business she wouldn't have a chance. "Yes, anything you can tell me will help."

"Whoever it is has to be powerful because Escobar never would have willingly betrayed me." Her head turned away from me to hide the glittering moisture that was building in the edges of her pale eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I told her truthfully. If this man had been manipulated somehow then it made his death far more upsetting.

"Thank you. And thank you for healing me. All of me." She was crying fully now. "Can I...do you think I can have children now?"

I couldn't simply say yes because I knew how these things worked. "You'll have a far better chance. But you'll need to do it quickly and you'll need to be very, very cautious once you've conceived. Fate has a way of making things go her way even if I intervene."

I really hoped the child Talise conceived didn't turn out to be the Anti-Christ. It would be just my luck.

The priestess wiped the moisture from her eyes, weathered a few sniffles and then thankfully got down to business. "Escobar began pulling away from us a month ago. He stopped calling at court." She made mention of the "court" witches held. Like Morrígan's inner sanctum at her stronghold, every coven had their own meeting place where they gathered, as royalty would have with their subjects.

"He didn't return our phone calls," Talise continued. "We thought maybe he was having problems at home. I didn't think it was anything like this until I stopped by his place last week. He didn't answer so I checked the windows in the bedroom in case he was sleeping. The place was trashed.

"That ain't normal. Escobar is meticulously neat," she paused to tell me. I bit my tongue at the present tense she'd used. "So I called him into court. All he could say was that he was working toward a better world. And that I needed to give him space. No one tells me they need space and gets away with it," she said fiercely. "I had him tailed. He was going in and out of the Dungeon at all hours. We tried to make him tell us who he was visiting but he insisted we had the wrong person and that he hadn't actually been there at all. The only thing we got was the tail caught him going to a warehouse down off the harbor twice just before...well," her voice trailed off without finishing the statement.

"Did anyone try going into it?"

"Yes," she nodded. Her eyes were thankfully completely dry now. "They got shot at. I didn't think it was important enough to risk sending anyone else in."

I would risk it. Eager for a new lead I asked, "Can you give me the address?"

"Sure." She gestured to Gerard to do the honors.

Her lover seemed to be irritated with me but he tried to find paper and a pen anyway. I hoped he didn't try to sabotage this by giving me the wrong address.

Something Morrígan had said made me think to ask another question. "So even though you hang out at the Dungeon a bit, you don't know who owns it?"

Talise held my eyes as she replied, "The ownership is very hush hush. No one ever sees anyone but the usual grunt staff like DJ, bartenders, and security. I know there's a manager there. He's the highest-level staff I've run into. But I don't think he's responsible for Escobar. The rumor is that he just works for whoever is in charge and that it's always changing."

"Any idea why that is?"

"My guess would be that it's a sought after place," she said with a shrug. "It's really the only spot in the state that all the factions can get together without there being bloodshed. I mean, think about it, if we see a Rhino in our territory we attack first and ask questions later. Don't you?"

I didn't but it wouldn't help her story if I refuted it. "I get your point," I replied with a half smile. "Anything else you can think of that can help me?"

"Just that you need to watch that Fire witch. There's a rumor that she's into some bad, bad stuff." Talise hesitated as if she were considering whether or not to say something else. Then she came right out with it, "She might be the one you're looking for."

I allowed a nod. "At this point every single person I meet is a suspect. Even you."

Talise snorted loudly, "I would never have told a Water witch to try to drown you with a fire hydrant. That's just plain tacky."

"People do tacky, stupid things when they're desperate." I glanced out the window in an effort to figure out how far we'd gone. "So, any chance you can drop me at the T or in front of a cabbie?"

Her eyebrows lifted high on her eerily blue forehead. "You're going to ride the T in that?"

"Sure." My lips spread into a grin. "Maybe I'll get a few phone numbers."

"We'll drop you off a few blocks from the club," she offered.

"Thanks." I didn't hide my relief. "That will save me some effort."

"It's the least I can do for what you did."

I got that worried feeling in the pit of my stomach that came when I knew I shouldn't have done something. But there was nothing to be done about it now. So I nodded mutely and then impatiently waited to be let out.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I didn't understand why I was doing it. But I did it anyway. It was a parallel for whatever relationship we had.

Oscar answered Morrígan's phone. He made a rapid excuse for "her holiness". It was some half garbled concoction that was halfway between "she's busy" and "she has more important things to do than speak with you". And then he promptly hung up on me without taking my message. I'd definitely pissed her off. It shouldn't bother me, but it did.

Then she called me back.

I'd been merging onto the freeway to head back to the brownstone for a change of clothing when my phone rang. The distraction of the surprisingly busy interstate had me answering without checking the read out for the caller ID.

"Hello?"

Her contralto voice was piped directly into my ear in all its irritated husky glory. "You rang."

I couldn't remember the line I'd rehearsed now that she'd fouled me up with a call back. "I was calling to tell you that I'm in the car, my car, not with the Water witch, and that I'm going home...alone."

"And you are telling me this..."

Damn. Good question, even though, as usual, Morrígan hadn't worded it like one. I replied with the truth. "I thought you'd be curious to know."

"You thought I would be curious," she echoed coolly.

I pushed a loud breath of air out of my mouth. Okay. Maybe I'd read her all wrong.

"All right. So you're not curious." My embarrassment at being so very wrong made me get snippy. "I'm sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing. You should tell Oscar not to hang up on me next time because I could have just given him the message and saved us all the fucking trouble."

She inhaled through her nose quickly enough that I heard it over the phone. "He was reacting to my mood. It is, to say the least, not good."

I didn't know what I was supposed to say to that so I opted for the easy answer: none.

"This was all you meant to tell me."

The almost hesitant way she said it made me think she was hoping I had more to add. But I didn't. What had been said was awkward enough. "Yes."

"Then perhaps you would like to know the chant Megan was speaking in the tank was a prayer for protection against water. I wish you a good evening." And then she hung up on me.

I stared at the car in front of me in confusion. What the hell? Had I been so wrong? That jealous lover act she'd been putting on wasn't real?

Oh, why did I care?

My thoughts were a tumult that made it difficult to concentrate on the road. It might have been why I hadn't noticed the black SUV with tinted windows careening toward me. I narrowly avoided a sideswipe with it by gunning the engine.

The SUV pulled in behind me only to weave around to the other side for another go at my side mirror. That wasn't a one-time drunken fluke. These people had actually tried to hit me!

I crazily signaled before shooting over into the far lane (seriously, what kind of idiot stops to signal in a high speed chase). It had been a bad move because my pursuers merely edged over to force me toward the cement wall lining the right hand side of the interstate. I let out a startled yelp as my passenger mirror was nearly nicked off by a mile marker sign.

High-speed car duels weren't my thing. I was strictly a gun and hands-on kind of gal. I had to find a way out of this.

The bastard, whoever it was, slammed into the side of my beautiful Mini Cooper. I screamed in surprised outrage, knowing my gleaming British racing green paint was definitely scraped. At least they'd narrowly missed my side mirror with the custom union jack cover.

The crazed driver righted themselves long enough to go around someone ahead of them. Minutes later I fought to avoid the SUV once again. I knew if I didn't come up with a way to either disable them or get myself away I'd earn more than a paint scrape. I loved my car. How dare they fuck with me? And on I-90!

A potential answer hit me. I hit the clutch, slammed the thing into sixth gear, and revved the engine, ignoring the spiking tachometer. It was enough of a boost that the SUV fell behind. They didn't have enough power to keep up with me. I was guessing there was probably more than one person in the vehicle and that they were probably far larger than I was.

I weaved in and out of traffic, hoping that I could lose my pursuer within it. It occurred to me that I should be afraid of cops perhaps more than the guys behind me. Cops could toss me in jail and there'd be nothing I could do about it. I'd worry about that later if I had to.

Too quickly the assholes in the SUV built speed until they were nearing my fender. I'd only just passed the ninety mark on my gigantic speedometer. Bravely, or stupidly, I pushed it further and pulled into the far left lane where there was a long stretch of bystander-free road for a half mile. The SUV pulled in just behind me to do a splendid job of tailing me even after I'd past one hundred miles an hour.

Sweat poured down my face as we entered the tunnel under the Prudential Center. I wasn't sure I could pull this off without killing someone, probably myself. My fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the muscles hurt.

At the absolute last minute I twisted the wheel and shot over into the far right lane to take exit twenty-two off the interstate. The SUV tried to get over but was stopped by the barrier of a utility van. There was much squealing of tires, horn honking and perhaps some metal on metal. I'd been too busy slamming my foot down on the brake and clutch pedals while furiously downshifting to know if they'd hit anyone.

As soon as I was able, I sped out over Huntington and took the first left I could find. If the SUV managed to get off the interstate I wanted to at the very least be out of sight. I drove down the next largest street for a mile until I found an open roadside parking space. With a quick turn of the steering wheel I coasted in and immediately turned the car off.

My heart slammed into the wall of my chest as I gasped for breath. This was getting out of hand. I didn't mind fighting these bastards in their own buildings and in Underground locations, but out in the middle of the city...in cars...where innocent people could get caught in the crossfire...that was hard on me.

But it was clear now that someone was trying to kill me. It shouldn't surprise me considering I'd dispatched six of their guys to the afterlife, freed their captive women and poked my nose where they probably thought it didn't belong. But it did surprise me. I'd gotten along fine until now by keeping a low profile.

It was difficult for the big bad guys to look at me, a puny female, and consider her a formidable opponent. I suspected that was part of the reason why the reports of the Black Death's appearance were so greatly varied. No one wanted to believe that a five foot six plump woman had killed the mighty Marco. How long would I last now that they were closing in on my identity?

This was ridiculous. Some asshole had taken my apartment from me, ruined the majority of my stuff, scraped the hell out of my precious car and had tried to kill me multiple times. I was going to figure out who was behind this and stop them if it killed me. But not before I killed them first.

I was smelly, groggy and light-headed when the pounding on the lobby doors woke me. But I wasn't too dazed to forget my pistol. It was nestled beside my thigh as I crept forward to see who'd dared wake me.

Out the glass I saw a guy squinting in sunlight with his hand over his eye as he tried to peer in. He had a large box in his hands that was too thick to be pizza but too wide to be a gun. What would a delivery guy be doing here at the brownstone?

I unlocked the inner doors and considered leaving the outer doors locked for security purposes when I realized the glass between us wasn't going to keep me safe from anything important. In any case he was smart enough to stand back. Now that I was a good deal closer I could tell he wasn't a guy at all, he was little more than a kid with a driver's license. There was a slightly fearful look to him as if he'd been warned about me. Then again, it might be because he'd spotted the gun in my hand.

"Um," he stuttered in a cracking youthful voice. "Are you Miss Denham?"

My teeth immediately set. Aiden had sent this punk to me. "Why?"

"I have a delivery for a Miss Denham. Is that you?" He gave me a skeptical look as if to say he didn't think I was her. I wondered what Aiden had told him.

Unwilling to admit that I was this Miss Denham I asked, "What kind of delivery?"

"Are you her?"

He was frustrated but I was pissed. My irritation trumped everything today. "Look, kid, I'm not going to answer anything you ask until you tell me why you're here."

"Geez!" He tugged up the box as if he'd tried to throw his hands up angrily. "Fine! It's a bunch of stupid clothes! Have a fucking cow!" The kid's face went sheet white. "Omigod, I mean...oh shit, don't shoot me, lady!"

My lips lifted into a grin. "Tell whoever sent you that I don't want 'a bunch of stupid clothes'."

His head shook fearfully. "You're scary, but he's scarier. Shit, please don't tell him I called them stupid clothes."

I'd never thought Aiden was particularly scary before, well, except that one time when he'd looked like he'd wanted to tear out the Alpha's throat. But he hadn't looked at this kid that way, had he? Hmm, that was something to consider another time. "I won't so long as you take them away from here."

"He said you'd refuse them," the kid grumbled. "And that I was supposed to tell you that you need these to finish the job you agreed to."

"I didn't agree..."

He interrupted me before I could get the rest of it out, "He also said you'd say you hadn't agreed to any job. I'm supposed to tell you that I'll be standing out here singing country as loud as I can until you take them."

"Country?" The bridge of my nose crinkled in disgust. "Did he say country or did you come up with that?"

"He said country."

"That rat bastard." I snarled a few more choice words. Somehow Aiden knew I despised country music with a passion. "Fine, bring the stupid things inside and then get the hell out of here."

I stepped out of the way to let him stumble in. He looked around for someplace to set his big box, ultimately setting it on a table on the edge of the lobby. Unfortunately the box hadn't been all he'd brought. There were several high-end department store bags, smaller boxes that might have been for shoes, and a thick black garment bag. My irritation grew with each item that passed through the glass doors.

"That's it," the kid announced with an uneasy look leveled at me.

I made a gesture toward the door so he knew he could leave without my shooting him. He didn't wait for verification before rushing out. I heard the tires on his beat-up Nissan peel out of the parking lot a minute later.

My fingers went to my mouth so that I could gnaw on my nails. I was damn curious what Aiden had sent me. But I wanted to be able to tell him I hadn't bothered looking at anything and I didn't want to have to lie.

I forced myself to walk by the packages to the leather couch. There was no way I was going to be able to go back to sleep now that I'd been so rudely awakened. After several minutes of staring at the rug I got up to load the gifts into my Mini. The plan was to get a hotel room so that I could shower and perhaps catch a bit of shuteye on a comfortable bed that didn't smell strange. Then I was going to deposit the whole slew of boxes and bags on Aiden's front porch.

I was conscious of every car, truck and utility vehicle on the road during the trip downtown but thankfully none were more aggressive than a typical Masshole driver. At the Hilton's counter I waited to see what room rate they could give me before breaking into the sob story about how I was with the symphony and how my apartment was flooded in a freak accident. They shaved fifty dollars off the price and supposedly upgraded it to a nicer room.

It wasn't a bad room, but suite it was not and I wasn't sure it was worth the hundred and fifty dollars they were charging me. I dropped my purse on the floor beside the lushly appointed king-sized bed and immediately tossed off the tank top and pants I'd worn "to bed".  A half hour later I was squeaky clean, blow-dried and crawling beneath the sheets of the king-sized bed.

Nothing interrupted my snooze this time. It was a little unfortunate because I didn't wake until nearly one in the morning. With only a handful of days until the sabbath I needed my nights free to track down the culprit before they unleashed unholy havoc on our city.

My first stop of the night was Aiden's place. The front door to his massive house opened just as I stepped onto the stone porch. His young doorman, or butler, or whatever he was, stood with a slight frown crinkling his mouth.

"Miss Denham," he greeted steadily. "Lord Bruce was expecting you some time ago."

Why was I not surprised? "I was busy," I lied. "I suppose he's also expecting me to try to return these things?"

"Yes," the guy replied without nodding. "I'm instructed to refuse them. He wanted to be here for your visit himself but he was called away on Senate business."

"Welllll, that's unfortunate," I drawled sarcastically. "I'll just leave these here until he can get to them. You have a good one now." And I turned on my heel to start back down the stairs.

"I was also instructed to ask you to wait. He won't be long," he called after me.

I shook my head without turning back. "I've got other business to deal with, business he wouldn't want me delaying."

"Please, Miss Denham."

The fact that a vampire, any vampire, had nearly begged me made me pause. I looked back to find the young man standing on the porch now, outside the building as if he might come get me if I didn't voluntarily go inside. I didn't want to get into a fight with a vampire on Commonwealth Avenue.

My retreat stalled so that I could turn fully. "Why's he so insistent I stay?"

"He didn't say," the man replied blandly.

He was obviously a well-trained doorman, or butler, or whatever. He was being properly cryptic and doing a good job of hiding his trepidation that I might leave and anger his master. I didn't want to get anyone in trouble so I decided to go inside. I'd wait a few minutes and then leave. It should appease everyone involved.

The man worked on setting the bags and boxes within the foyer as I hopped up the porch steps. Once finished he led me within and up the marble staircase to the first floor. (In these old houses they always called the floor visitors entered upon the "ground floor" and what everyone else in the States considered the second floor was confusingly the first.) To the right of the first floor's landing was an arched doorway closed off by etched glass double doors. It was through those doors that the man ended our trip.

I followed him inside and glanced around. A modern L-shaped sofa in a deep purple chenille fabric with fluffy cushions held the prime position in the large wainscoted room with plush white carpet. There was a complimentary flower patterned chaise lounge behind it and a stuffed chair with a similar design across. In the middle of the room stood a square coffee table made with a deep mahogany wood that looked as expensive as it was shiny.

Strangely one of those ridiculously large universal remote controls that was the size of a small laptop sat atop its bright surface. I suspected it controlled the focal point of the room -- the massive flat screen television mounted above the stone fireplace. It seemed to be playing the Barber of Seville in high definition. The audio played softly but no doubt that was Dolby Digital or perhaps THX emitting out of the tiny tweeters around the room.

"Make yourself comfortable. I was in the middle of watching an opera on PBS but I'll change it," the man said. He headed for the remote control. "Would you like anything to drink or eat?"

Now was the time to ask, when Aiden wasn't around to overhear it. "What do you have?"

He stood to his full height with the massive remote control in his hand. "Several wines, spring water, milk, an array of soft drinks. I believe Lord Bruce purchased orange soda specifically with you in mind."

My jaw clamped shut until he turned to change the television channel. "No, leave it. It's fine."

The man set the remote control down without arguing. "I regret that we have little in the way of food. There are some biscuits and cakes for tea but they are all quite processed. Had I known ahead of time I would have prepared better."

I shook my head to allay his worry. "I'm good. No need to get me anything."

After an awkward moment of silence I shuffled over to sit on the edge of the sofa nearest the exit. The vampire moved to sit catty-corner from me. We watched a few minutes of the opera quietly until he ruined it by speaking.

"What sort of foods do you like?"

I couldn't help but inhale an amused breath. "No offense but I don't plan on making a habit of visiting so there's no point in telling you."

He let that go without commenting. We watched the actor's antics on screen for several more silent minutes. I must have allowed a smile to crack at the barber's postulating because the vampire mentioned it.

"Most your age don't appreciate the opera."

I lifted my shoulders flippantly. "I'm a musician. We had opera shoved down our throat in college."

"Yes. We've been to see you at Symphony Hall," he told me lightly.

That snagged my attention away from the opera. "You have?"

The vampire's eyes rounded ever so slightly but the only answer I got was a nod from him. I wondered how in the hell I'd failed to notice Aiden Bruce in the crowd at any of the performances. Yes, the hall held twenty-six hundred people people but I was confident I'd be able to spot him of all people, especially considering how easily I'd picked Morrígan out. Aiden must not have wanted me to know. I bet the doorman would get an earful for spilling the beans.

We went back to quietly watching the opera. Two minutes into Rosina's latest aria the doorman pulled out of his pocket, of all things, a sleek cell phone. Discreetly I watched as he checked something on the screen and then began hitting buttons.

"Lord Bruce is on his way back," he informed me without lifting his gaze from the phone's screen. "It will only be another ten minutes at most."

Damn it. I'd lost my chance to leave. Who knew vampires text messaged?

I slumped a little into the seat, set my chin on the arm I rested against my knee and watched the opera until I heard the door open downstairs. Mutely my companion stood to meet Aiden. There was no greeting between the two when he arrived. It was like the changing of the guards without the funny costumes or weapons.

"Miss Denham, thank you for humoring me by waiting," Aiden said as he breezed into the room with as much presence as a gale force wind. He was dressed in a gray and silver pinstripe three-piece suit with his long chestnut hair pulled behind his neck. My eyes shot to his face next to find that he'd kept the same features I'd seen for several days. "I see you returned the clothing. Were they not the correct size?"

I stood so that I felt less diminutive. "I don't know. I didn't bother to look at any of it because I had no intention of keeping it. I only took the boxes in the first place because the poor kid you sent was scared shitless about making you angry."

His lush lips hadn't budged until I'd mentioned the frightened part. They turned down in a slight frown. "It wasn't my intention to frighten him. I'd merely made it clear what I expected of him."

One of the things that had bothered me most popped out of my mouth without warning. "And if I'm so damn predictable that you knew everything I'd do, why did you bother with this in the first place?"

"You aren't always predictable," he assured me. "In this I knew you would be. And to answer your question, because you said you had nothing else to wear to the club save that...outfit...the priestess had given you. Because you've been visiting the Dungeon in an effort to investigate our little matter, I thought it only equitable for us to supply the uniform."

"That would explain one box, maybe." I gestured toward the stairs behind him. "You sent a hell of a lot more than that."

"I didn't know what you would prefer," he replied in what seemed like faux-innocence to my ears.

Now I wished I'd peeked at what he'd sent because that tone of voice made me think perhaps he'd sent things worse than a leather strap fetish cat suit. But no. I couldn't accept any sort of gifts from Aiden. Stiffly I said, "I can handle outfitting myself. Thanks."

"How did the priestess manage to convince you not to return her gift?"

Morrígan had incriminating information on me. And these days she had a whole lot more of that. "You honestly expect me to answer that?"

He inhaled an amused breath. "It was worth the effort." The amusement quickly faded as he let out a long sigh. His chin lifted in such a way that I knew I wasn't going to like what he said next. "I won't accept the packages back. There are no receipts. Nothing can be returned. You might as well keep it."

I was right. And the rat bastard was lying. Coolly I replied, "There are always receipts and a way to return things."

The left corner of Aiden's lips twitched. "Then perhaps I don't wish to."

My eyes rolled toward the Domain. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say, which is why I'm not keeping any of it." I lifted a palm toward the door. "So are we done now? Can I go be productive with the few days I have left to catch the asshole behind all of this or did you want to continue unsuccessfully convincing me how much I need the things you sent?"

"We are done with that," he conceded. "But I have the information on your would-be assassin."

On to business, I could handle talking shop with him. My back relaxed a smidgeon. "Yeah, about that, you wouldn't happen to know of anyone with a black SUV bent on my demise, would you?"

Aiden's eyebrows drifted upward. "No, of course not. What happened?"

I explained about the crazed car chase on I-90 last night while watching his face darken.

In a hard-edged voice he assured me, "I'll find out what I can. A police report was no doubt submitted."

He turned to walk closer to the etched glass door. It put his back to me. I tried not to look at his ass. Thankfully it was covered by his sports coat. Aiden's profile swiveled enough that he'd be able to see me out of the corner of his eye and I'd be able to see half his expression. That expression was drawn tight, perhaps in worry.

"This has gotten out of hand," he said. "I think it would be best for you to bow out of the investigation."

I pushed enough breath through my nose to form a derisive snort. "You say that as if you have a team of detectives working on it. Do you?"

"No. I do not."

By the cool tone of voice I got the feeling that he didn't want to admit that tidbit. Surely I was reading into it because there was no way in hell Aiden would tell me something he didn't want to tell me simply because it was the truth. He was a vampire after all.

"Then I'm all you've got," I replied. "If I bow out, then a demon shows up in Beantown. I'm going to have to deal with that eventually anyway."

"Why?" He whipped around to face me as he grit out the sharp question. The lines at the bridge of his nose and around his mouth were deep crevices large enough to hide things in. And the silver of his irises had gone gun metal gray. But it was the fierceness of his voice that made me take note. He revised his question, "Why must you deal with it?"

I didn't understand what had gotten him so worked up so I merely stood staring at him with eyebrows lifted.

Aiden continued in his vehement tone, "Isn't there a city full of vampires, witches, shapeshifters and Were?"

"I'm sorry," I replied sarcastically. "I was under the impression that you'd sought me out to take care of this. So, in other words, no, apparently there isn't a city filled with an Underground capable of doing anything about one fucking demon."

"I didn't seek you out," he corrected me. "The rulers of Boston did. I was the messenger."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought the rulers of Boston were beneath a senator on the undead social strata. So how the hell did they rate you as a messenger?"

Aiden's seeming fury cooled in an instant. He glanced away, a guilty gesture I'd seen before. "As I said, I volunteered."

"You're keeping something from me," I stated boldly.

"I have told you all that I can."

"Yeah, that sounds like the world's worst cop out." My voice had soured considerably. I started for the door only to have him block it.

"You're going to take the clothing with you," he said imperiously.

I couldn't stand being dictated to. He should have learned that by now. "No, actually. I'm not. Now get out of my way before I see how well you can heal a silver bullet to the forehead."

He stepped aside without a word. I darted into the hallway and down the stairs before he could reconsider. But surprisingly he didn't stop me. I'd expected a much greater fight from him.

As my hand turned the doorknob on his front door I heard him call down, "I'd suggest a silver bullet to the heart to start if you truly mean to kill me."

CHAPTER TWENTY

I pulled my scraped up Mini Cooper into the parking lot of a building a block away from my destination. The phone vibrated in my pocket before I could grab the door handle. The number listed wasn't familiar but I decided to answer it anyway on the off chance it was news that would make my visit into the building pointless.

"Hello?"

"Guess where I am?" It took me a few seconds to recognize the rumbling voice of the Alpha werewolf.

Cattily I retorted, "Outside a lingerie shop, getting cheap thrills?"

He breathed in a snort. I thought it was an amused snort rather than a pissed off one but I couldn't be sure. He answered his own question a moment later. "Standin' in a few inches of water outside your apartment. What the hell happened?"

"Water witch, I suspect."

I heard him quietly swear. "Water witches now too?"

"Yup."

"So where are you?"

In my cheeriest voice I said, "I'm about to go into a building where people will probably shoot at me."

"Want company?"

I almost laughed at how quick he was to offer his hide. "Not especially."

The Alpha's voice went sharp, "What the hell did I do to piss you off?"

"Do I have to pick just one thing?"

"No..."

"Look," I interrupted him, "Even if we were bestest buds, I still wouldn't want you here. I'm just going to pretend to be a dumb female looking at potential commercial real estate late on a Sunday night. And before you say anything, yes, I realize the dumb female part comes naturally. So see, having a strapping man along will ruin my act."

He made a gruff noise. "I wasn't gonna to accuse you of bein' dumb. Well, I take that back. If you're goin' into a buildin' where you might get shot, alone, then yeah, you ain't exactly bein' intelligent. At least give me the address so I can come collect your body."

"You'd like to get your hands on my corpse, wouldn't you?"

"Can't you be serious for longer than a second?"

I thought I was serious a lot, probably more than I should be. But rather than give that answer, I said, "I can't afford to be serious or I wouldn't be walking into a building where people will fucking shoot me."

"Point taken," he said soberly. Then he did what I despised in a man, he whined. "Come onnnn...tell me. I wanna to find this bastard as badly as you do so I can make them pay for what they did to Michael and his sister."

"I know you do." But I didn't give him the address.

Dominick's tone soured in an instant. "You just gotta be Ms. Hero, don't you?"

Oh no. I wasn't letting him get indignant with me. "You would only get in my way if I let you tag along. So just go home, watch Skinemax, crack open a beer and kick back."

His indignation only increased as he snapped out a lofty, "I'm the Alpha werewolf for the entire state. I didn't get that gig by kickin' back. I think I can handle myself against a few guns."

Oooh men. They were always wanting to get themselves killed. And I wasn't in the mood for this shit. Not after nearly getting murdered twice yesterday and then having to deal with Aiden's irritating gifts.

I adopted my sarcastic oh-you're-such-a-big-bad-man voice, "Yeah? What if they're packing silver? You gonna be able to handle that? No. No, you won't because silver is motherfuckin' deadly to Were. So just stay at home and then I don't have to get my panties in a bunch making sure your ass doesn't get shot to hell while I'm dodging bullets."

"I can handle myself, Laura," he replied frigidly

"Well, you just handle yourself at home."

"Give me the address, Laura."

This time the note in his voice had been warning. The fact that he'd said my name twice in a row didn't bode well. But what the hell? I was halfway across the city in an undisclosed location. There was nothing he could do about it.

"I know who you are," he said in an even more rumbling tone than usual. "You want to keep that a secret, you're gonna tell me where you are."

Or there was that.

I feigned stupidity while trying to think of a way out of this, "So you know my first and last name, big deal."

"You're the Black Death everyone has been lookin' for."

I laughed long and hard. Acting anything but stupid had never been in my repertoire. I was hoping he'd not pick up on that. "If I were the Black Death why the hell would I need a gun?"

"Michelle has been havin' nightmares about a woman turning a guy into a mess of black sores. We know it's you, Laura."

Apparently Aiden's vampire voodoo mind tricks weren't a perfect science. Maybe if I fed the Alpha a boldfaced lie he'd believe it. It was over the phone, which meant I had a fighting chance.

"I'm not the Black Death," I said in with as much certainty as I could muster.

Not buying it he retorted, "Then it would be really bad if I started spreadin' the rumor that you are."

"You are an asshole," I hissed quietly as if someone might overhear me. "You know that?"

"Yeah. Now tell me where you are."

I gave him the address and then snapped that I hoped he got shot. I didn't mean it. Maybe.

I smacked my head back against the headrest to wait for him because he'd threatened to spread rumors if I so much as went inside without him. I was going to have to find some incriminating information with which to reverse blackmail him with because he was just going to milk this for all it was worth.

Dominick arrived in his muddy Jeep fifteen minutes later. I had no doubt he'd sped all the way here from my apartment. He rapped on the glass of my window when I'd feigned sleep. I flipped him off. Then I forced myself to get out of the car.

The werewolf gestured to the side of the Mini. "What's up with your car?"

I glanced back at it, frowning at the scraped up portion. "I got sideswiped."

"Nice."

He eyed my clothing choices dubiously. Apparently a gray mock turtleneck under my windbreaker (the high collar was to hide my shiny new crow Brand), a pair of blue jeans and comfortable black oxford shoes weren't ass-kicking enough in his eyes. But then he couldn't talk, he'd worn a ratty t-shirt and stained shorts on one of the coldest nights we'd had this month.

"Can I get on with this now?" I grumbled on my way to the nearby sidewalk.

"Yeah. Why are we here?"

"You're here to be a hairy, sweaty pest," I replied helpfully.

The Alpha grunted. "Besides that."

I stopped near the hood of the Mini to explain my purpose at least. "The Water witch that flooded my apartment and tried to drown me in front of Symphony Hall was seen at a building up here. When someone went to check it out they were shot at."

Dominick's forehead wrinkled a half-second before he scoffed loudly. "That's it? That's all you got? Some Water witch visited this buildin'?"

Oh he was really pushing my buttons. Snark meter pushing into the red I retorted, "Look, sweet cheeks. I didn't ask you to come along. In fact I distinctly recall arguing to keep you away."

His eyes rolled to the left. "If you'd told me what you had I wouldn't have bothered."

"You know now. Go ahead and leave, tough guy." In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have said that last bit because if the setting of his jaw were any indication it had made him decide to stay after all. But I had been unable to help myself.

"No. I'm comin'," he insisted while stepping into place beside me.

"Fine," I snapped just before stomping ahead to the sidewalk while zipping my windbreaker up to hide the two guns I carried. It helped that it was chilly, breezy and night.

I'd driven past the building a few times before parking. There didn't appear to be any lights on within the large structure. The windows were boarded up. For all intents and purposes the place looked abandoned.

Dominick grabbed my arm when I made a move to head toward the building's entrance. He tugged me toward the side instead. I was a fan of the more direct approach. He was obviously into sneaking behind someone and stabbing them in the back, or I guessed in his case it would be clawing them in the back. I'd remember that.

I let him drag me around to the rear entrance and even stood quietly while he lifted a door off its hinges to let us in. Maybe having a supernaturally strong man with me had its advantages after all. He was the first to go inside and despite his decidedly larger bulk, I was the one that seemed to make all of the noise. I worked on softening my footsteps when we exited the empty back room into the building's interior corridor.

There was another very good reason for having a Were along for the ride: he could see in the dark. I stumbled into walls and door frames left and right until he grabbed my hands to set them on his back. It was a little awkward and a bit intimate to walk forward while touching him but served the purpose.

My hands suddenly dropped in front of me when Dominick's back abruptly disappeared from beneath them. A moment later his moist, warm lips pressed against my ear. I stifled a gasp.

"There's a woman speakin' in a room at the end of the hall," he whispered. "She hasn't heard us yet."

Whoever was down there wasn't vampire, Were or shapeshifter or they'd have heard my racket. We were probably dealing with another witch.

"I think she's on the phone. She's tellin' someone that Ringo and James were supposed to be back by now and she can't get a hold of them," the werewolf added after another two minutes of listening. "She says they didn't have any luck trackin' the woman down after they lost her last night. What happened last night, Laura?"

"Two goons tried to run me off the road on I-90," I replied as quietly as I could manage.

"Now she's explainin' that Clarence was reported as murdered in a drug-related fight. Who was Clarence?"

"The guy that tried to kill me before the goons on I-90."

He stepped forward. It put his stomach square against my hip. "Jesus Christ, Laura."

Then without warning he covered my mouth with his hand. The werewolf lifted me off my feet with his other hand so he could carry me at a darted speed into the nearest room. I wisely kept my mouth shut even though my rear end was pressed a little too snugly against his thighs. Seconds later I heard footsteps pass us by.

The position he had me in, hanging by a palm over my mouth and a hand against my abdomen, hadn't bothered me until several minutes had passed without him letting go. Surely whoever had come by was out of earshot by now. I shook my head to get his attention.

"They know someone is here," he said in my ear rather than set me down. "He saw the broken door out back."

I made a sound against his hand that I hoped would remind him he was muffling me. He held on for a half a minute longer until I elbowed him hard in the gut. Once on my own two feet I pulled the gun from my windbreaker.

"I'm not hearin' anyone but those two," he told me. "They're about to come lookin' for us. I'll handle the guy."

Before I could argue with him, Dominick shot out of the room into the corridor. I could just make out the shadow of his body moving against the wall. A cone of light appeared three quarters of the way down with the shadow of a man eclipsing it. The Alpha's quarry stepped out slowly, looking every which way but didn't see the bulk slinking forward in the darkness.

Breathlessly I watched the guy turn his back to walk in the opposite direction. That was when Dominick chose to pounce. The man let out a frightened yelp before the werewolf was able to shut him up.

A curse left my mouth before I could stop it. Predictably the woman appeared in the doorway. She seemed to ready an attack with a lift of her arms that told me it would be something magical. I didn't think anything she could do to the interloping Dominick would be a pleasurable experience so I shot her in the shoulder.

Unfortunately my offensive move had been too late. A fireball was already hurdled through the air toward Dominick's back. "Dominick!" I shouted in warning.

He'd seen the incoming attack but wasn't able to roll out of the way in time. Both he and the man he'd had slammed on the laminate floor screamed as the Fire engulfed them. Before the bitch could turn around and do something to me, I shot her with every bullet in my gun, intentionally staying away from her head and heart in the hopes that I could still get her to talk. The bullets to her legs felled her but did nothing to stop her attacks.

I'd gotten halfway to her, while hastily reloading my gun, when she shot a missile of flame at me. Apollo's Warning gave me enough time to jump out of the way. My shoulder smashed into the wall with a jarring pain that was nothing compared to what I'd avoided.

Even with an entire clip in her body the woman tried to get up to come after me. From my distance I made out that she was blonde with long hair and vaguely familiar. I was certain I'd seen her at Morrígan's stronghold. Why did it have to be another freaking Fire witch?

I changed the clips out in the gun while darting toward her even as she was readying another strike. This close I doubted I'd be able to avoid it. It occurred to me that I didn't actually know how to neutralize a Fire witch without a straight jacket and a tank of water.

So I did the only thing I could think of, I threw myself at her and straddled her to keep her down. My left hand held her arms together so they couldn't form the seed of Fire.

"Who do you work for?" I shoved the barrel of my gun into her nose and demanded in a low, furious voice while trying to ignore the moans of pain behind me. Moans of pain meant someone was still alive. At least that much was good.

Rather than answer, she set herself on Fire from within. Reflexively my body jerked away from her. My move had been quick enough that nothing was hurt.

But she was getting up now. I couldn't let her do that because she'd only hit me with another attack. So I shot her in the foot.

She cried out with a guttural yelp. Still she was moving. With eight bullets in her she should be flat on her back praying to her god, not trying to slink toward me. The fact that she wasn't gave me enough startled pause that she'd had time to form another attack.

Thanks to my father's warning system I saw the ball the size of my car barreling down the corridor in slow motion. There was absolutely no way for me to get out of the way in time. My only hope was to minimize the impact. I pushed myself up against the wall in an effort to only experience the edge of it but the bitch had already shot another attack directly at me.

I was a goner.

I screamed before I felt them hit because I despised burns above all other wounds. What a cowardly way for me to die, screaming before I'd even been touched by the flame! The gods would surely have something to say about that when I reached Hades.

When the flame finally hit me I was surprised to find that the only thing I experienced was pressure. It felt as if something large had hit me in the gut and then a second smack against the shoulder. Together they were powerful enough to knock me onto my ass.

I fell back against the dirty linoleum, confused and bruised but strangely unburnt.

"I'm shot. The bitch shot me," the Fire witch yelled at someone while I groggily attempted to figure out what the hell had happened. "I took her out. Her and whoever she brought with her. But Bob got hit in the crossfire. Send a Healer and a body bag for the bitch."

I might be a bitch, but she was an idiot. As far as I could tell, my skin was unblemished. Her Fire hadn't done shit to me aside from burn off my clothing. Apparently she thought so highly of herself that she'd not bothered to look at me after I'd fallen.

If her fireballs did nothing, did that mean I could withstand her little trick of setting herself on fire? Did I want to put it to the test?

I jumped to my feet before I could listen to the little logical voice in my head screaming "no". The wench had fallen back to wait on her Healer.

Her eyes shot wide when she heard me move. She'd been trying to form another fireball when I landed on top of her. My hearing just about failed when she shrieked in my ear in surprised outrage. A second later we were both coated in flames. I did my level best not to freak out and hang on to her despite the instincts clamoring to get the hell away.

"Sorry, sweetheart, it doesn't work on me," I informed her snidely. "Now who the fuck do you work for?"

My gun was in her face again. It wasn't faring as well against the flame as I did. The steadily rising temperature of the metal was burning my hand. I had to let go and that pissed me off enough that I lifted her up by the shoulders so I could smash her down again.

Snarling I demanded, "Who do you work for?"

Her reply was to turn her head so she could bite my arm. It was the last straw. I wished her ill. The black of my plague power shot out through her veins, eating the Fire back as it moved. She choked in a shocked, labored breath.

"Last chance," I told her when her eyes went wide as saucers. "Tell me who you work for and then I'll Heal you."

"The greater good," she bit out on her last, rough breath.

I shoved off her in disgust. All that effort, all that pain and I got nothing from her.

Remembering that I wasn't alone, I shot to my feet then ran over to the Alpha's prone body. His blackened body was nearly unrecognizable but for the small bit of gym shorts peeking out from beneath him. I set my hand against his crisp skin and listened to the Health reports with a cringe on my face from how awful he felt beneath my fingers.

He wasn't dead. He was damn near it. But he wasn't dead. I knew I didn't have enough juice in me to Heal something this bad and get us both out of there before the reinforcements arrived.

I needed help.

I sent enough Healing energy in him to stabilize him. In a rare bit of luck my phone had apparently fallen out of my coat onto the floor before the fireball hit, and it still worked.

I noted the missed call icon but didn't have time to check on it. My fingers scrambled to find the phone number Aiden Bruce had used to call me. He answered on the second ring, surprise coloring his velvet voice. I gave him the address and told him to get here as fast as he could. When he didn't argue or ask why, I knew I'd made the right choice.

My phone rang again while I was gnawing on my fingernail. I answered it without checking, assuming it would be Aiden.

"You will tell me what is going on, Lore." Morrígan's contralto voice was sharp over the phone. "You've drained a startling amount of energy from me. You were hurt. Tell me where you are."

My mouth formed a perfect O. How could I have forgotten about the Brand? Of course! That was why the fireballs had done nothing to me. If Morrígan were protecting me against Fire attacks then could she really be the mastermind behind all that was going wrong? I knew it was still possible but I was thinking it improbable.

I went ahead and told her, "Another of your witches was in league with whoever is doing this. A blonde. Any missing from your court?"

"Gina," she replied with a sigh. And then she returned to the third-degree. "You will tell me if you're hurt."

"I'm fine." It was the truth. The burn on my hand from holding the gun was already fading.

That reminded me to find the gun and see if it were destroyed. Before I could locate it I found something far more interesting: the cell phone the wench had been using was on the ground a few feet from her body. It would have the phone number she'd called in memory! I might be able to get some information for a change.

"She is..." Morrígan didn't finish the faux-question.

My eyes swept over the steadily disappearing body. "She's dead, priestess."

Morrígan let out a loud breath. "You are still angry with me."

My teeth set. "Now is not the time."

"Now is the perfect time," she argued. "My Brand saved you."

"That's debatable."

"From the energy you've leeched tonight I would wager you'd have been incinerated twice over, dearest. My Brand did save you and we both know it. I expect proper gratitude."

"You can take your expectation and shove it because I have more important things to do right now, like saving the life of an Alpha werewolf and tracking down who is stealing your witches out from under your nose." I angrily mashed the button to disconnect the call. That woman's priorities were seriously skewed.

I scoured the nearby room for something to wear and ended up with a cast off rain coat. Then I paced the corridor listening for any noises while trying to ignore that Morrígan's Brand had in fact saved my ass twice over. I didn't want to feel like I was in her debt. She already had too much leverage as it was.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

While I impatiently waited for my help to arrive I managed to raid the pockets of the only attacker that had any clothing left. It had been a disgusting deed considering his front was charred to a crisp. But when I lifted out a wallet from his back pocket I decided the effort was worth it.

Aiden appeared noiselessly beside me minutes later. I gasped because I'd been so deeply in my own thoughts that I hadn't so much as heard his car arrive.

"I can't lift him," I gestured toward the charred body of the Alpha. "I need to get him out of here before someone comes."

He glanced over at the pair of bodies without flinching at the state they were in. "Which one?"

I knew it was bad if Aiden couldn't scent the werewolf. "The one on the right. Can you get him to my car?"

His answer was a light, "Of course."

He lifted the Alpha up as if he weighed no more than a bag of potatoes and then darted out of the building by the back door. I followed after only to have him return for me before I'd reached the outdoors.

"Someone is pulling into the parking lot," he told me in a rapid voice. "May I?"

I didn't understand what he was asking. He didn't wait for an answer, probably because a car's headlights had nearly passed over me while I stood dumbly staring at him. To keep us both out of sight, he'd scooped me up and rushed us at an insane speed around the building, across the street and ultimately to my Mini.

I grabbed onto the car's hood with a gasp as soon as he'd set me down on my own two feet. My stomach revolted from the inhuman action it had experienced in his arms. I had no way to know how fast we'd traveled but I knew I'd never gotten that ill on a motorcycle doing eighty down the freeway.

"We need to leave in case they think to look around," Aiden told me on his way to the driver's side of the Audi he'd parked beside my car. "I will meet you at my house."

He dropped down into his car and closed the door before I could argue. It was then that I noted the Alpha limp in the passenger seat of his sports car. He wasn't going to give me any choice but to follow him. I gestured at him rudely, saying a few choice words about his parentage on my way to hop in my own car.

The vampire waited long enough for me to get into my vehicle before pulling toward the parking lot's exit. He knew this part of the city far better than I did so I followed behind as best I could while he blew through stop signs and nearly red lights. Ten minutes later I drove my Mini into the garage behind his mansion. He'd insisted I take the spot inside it with an impatient gesture beside his passenger door. I suspected it was to keep whoever wanted me dead from easily spotting my scratched up Mini Cooper behind his house. It was a smart idea, really.

I followed Aiden as he carried the Alpha into the garage and through the man door on the garage's right side. The younger vampire butler awaited us in the laundry room we'd entered. He did not appear surprised to see me or a blackened man hanging from his master's arms.

"What will you need?" He thought to ask me.

I merely glanced at him to make sure he was talking to me then replied, "Someone to take me back to the hotel after I pass out."

"Lord Bruce has already made arrangements," the man told me.

No one spoke while we took the two flights of stairs up to the second floor (which was actually the third floor). Aiden walked into a room with high ceilings that featured a prominent massive bed and a single lit table lamp. I was too distracted to notice anything else but was aware of other things. Gently he settled the Alpha down atop freshly laid towels.

"Should his clothing be removed?" The younger vampire asked.

My head shook quickly. "No."

"You can Heal this?"

It was the younger man that asked me. Aiden had said nothing since we'd gotten in the cars. I stared at the charred figure wondering that myself.

"Eventually," I admitted.

I knew I could heal burns because I'd been doing it on Jim for months. But I'd never tried to fix someone this scorched before. Without a doubt this was going to test the limits of my abilities.

My attention switched to Aiden. I pulled the second cell phone and the wallet from my pocket and handed it to him. "This is the phone the Fire witch used to call for reinforcements. She was also talking to someone about the people who tried to kill me yesterday just before that. Can you get anything from it?"

"I can," he replied.

I bit my lip lightly between my teeth, worried that I wasn't going to be able to pull this off. After pressing my eyelids shut and drawing in a long breath, I made myself hold Aiden's eyes and speak in a steady voice. "If something happens...here's what I've got so far. Whoever is pulling the strings to this little marionette show is headquartered in the Dungeon, as you know. It's not Morrígan. She's trying too hard to protect me to order my murder. I also don't think Talise, the Water priestess, is behind this. That leaves the four or so others or someone not in the Covens at all." I couldn't remember if we had six or seven covens in the area but I wasn't sure it mattered in the end. Forging onward I added, "Everyone I've caught thus far declares they're working for the greater good, for a world where the factions will work together. Talise was insistent the Water witch that attacked me would never have betrayed her. If she was telling the truth, then we're dealing with someone who can manipulate people, someone...like you," I gave him a meaningful look with a long pause.

His face was a blank mask of lovely features that told me nothing. I didn't know if he was surprised to learn that a vampire was involved or if he'd known all along. I wanted to find out but there were more immediate things to worry about.

"I'm going to be out of commission for at least a day." My sigh of frustration was heavy as I returned my focus to Dominick. "This is the worst time for this. Damn it. Why did you have to insist on tagging along, you asshole?"

"Don't do this," Aiden said suddenly.

"What?" I asked with a confused glance cast back at him.

His face was drawn in obvious concern. "You said 'if something happens'. What will happen? Can you die from Healing someone?"

"I haven't yet," I said flippantly.

"Don't do this." Aiden took a half step forward but seemed to think better of actually closing the distance to me.

Though it was nice that he was worried about my safety, something I'd already figured out from the two and a half times he'd saved my ass, I couldn't agree with him. "He is going to die if I don't do something. I can't let that happen."

"He's the werewolf Alpha," Aiden argued. "He will heal the damage, eventually."

My eyes narrowed on him. "You know that for a fact? You know that a werewolf Alpha burnt to a crisp will eventually heal rather than die from this much damage? You've seen it?"

Aiden stared me straight in the eye and said, "Yes."

Somehow I didn't believe him. "Well, then I'll just help him along a little. It shouldn't take too much of my energy." I was lying through my teeth but hoped he didn't catch on.

The vampire pushed an angry breath out but refrained from arguing.

I walked around to the other side of the bed where there was more room. There I climbed up to settle down beside the burnt Alpha. A single hand to his arm told me he was still alive, barely. With a deep breath I began sending Healing energy into his body through the conduit of my hand.

My glowing palm appeared to be doing little on the surface though the reports in my head said muscle tissue was being repaired within first. It wasn't fast enough for me. I knew the nerve damage he'd sustained would Heal before the rest of him did and that the pain would be excruciating until I could get more energy into him. At the rate I was sending it, it would be hours before he'd be better and he'd be screaming the entire time without some serious drugs. I had to do more.

I set my other hand on his leg. With two conduits the power began flowing a little faster, but still not fast enough. I knew what I had to do even though it was going to be very uncomfortable for all involved.

"Can you get me a blanket?" I asked no one in particular while tugging on the rain coat's belt.

The younger vampire arrived with a blanket seconds later. I murmured thanks, pulled it around me, turned away and began disrobing. "There's going to be nothing for you two to do for a few hours. You should go find out what's on that phone," I said aloud to distract myself from the fact that I was getting naked, in Aiden's house, in bed with Dominick the Alpha werewolf.

There was movement behind me. I hoped it was the vampires' departure but wasn't holding my breath. With the blanket pulled around me I crawled back up on the bed and noted the room to be empty. That was a load of my mind. I didn't like the idea of them watching me do what I was about to do.

I set my knee beside Dominick's leg, threw my other thigh over his opposite side, opened the blanket and then carefully began settling my body against his bubbled skin in an identical pose. The final thing I laid down was my cheek against his crisp face. Tears began to fall onto him when I realized the person beneath me truly was the werewolf Alpha and not just a faceless person.

As I closed my eyes I willed my Healing energy to transfer into him through any contact I had with him. The golden glow behind my eyelids was amazing. I imagined at this exact moment if anyone had seen me without the blanket on, I might have been a rival for the beauty of Apollo in the flesh. Warmth wrapped around us as the power flowed. The reports telling me this muscle was complete or that nerve reattached came too quickly for my brain to process.

Dominick began to whimper beneath me. I knew the pain he was feeling was incredible. "Shh," I said softly. "It will be all right."

He attempted to move.

"No, stay still. I'm Healing you but it's going to take a long time."

He made an anguished sound deep in his throat that tore at my heart.

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts," I whispered. "Unfortunately this is as fast as I can go."

The rapidly departing energy quickly drained my strength and concentration. Before long I was half unconscious despite his continued pained noises. I had to hope the Healing process would continue on autopilot. I would soon find out.

Warm lips closed over mine dragging me from the depths of dark oblivion. A delicious sensation coiled in my abdomen thanks to the hand on my breast and the gently stroking fingers between my thighs. It wasn't until I heard a rumbling groan that I realized I wasn't dreaming. By then something far warmer had joined the fingers.

My eyes snapped wide to find Dominick's dimly lit mahogany eyes staring down at me. He murmured my name just before plunging himself into me fully. I tried to lift an arm with the idea of either hanging on while he thrust or smacking him in the head for his bold misuse of the situation, but my limb couldn't be moved higher than a centimeter. I'd used up too much energy Healing him.

As far as the Healing had gone, from what I could tell he was good as new. The skin I could see was bronzed and whole. The skin I couldn't see felt smooth against mine.

"You asshole," I hissed in a whisper once he'd finally lifted his mouth away from mine. But a well-timed thrust had me gasping rather than fighting him. "Oh gods," I moaned because it felt quite nice.

"You...in bed with me...naked and on top...too irresistible," he panted against my neck. I wondered when I'd ended up beneath him but was too preoccupied with the quickly blooming need to ask.

"I Heal you and you get sex out of the deal?" I couldn't seem to make it sound angry.

"I'll buy you a house to make up for it."

His answer made me laugh.

And then the door burst open. In a heartbeat Dominick was torn off and thrown into the wall. I heard an awful crunching noise as he hit.

"Stop!" I gasped out because it was all I was capable of doing.

Aiden's face appeared over me a moment later. The light cast deep shadows across his furious expression. "Only because you've commanded it," he said with an icy voice and a savage gleam in his eye. I instantly saw what it was that frightened his employees into submission.

He yanked the blanket up over me, gently gathered me to him and then carried me out of the room without saying another word. I was too weak to fight him even if he hadn't been ridiculously strong.

"I didn't Heal him just so you could kill him," I snapped uncomfortably.

"He isn't dead," Aiden snapped right back. "He may have a broken leg, but that is the least of his problems."

He stopped to set me down on soft bedclothes amidst a sea of pillows a moment later. I hadn't seen where we were going, partly because it was dark and because my vision was blurred from my overexertion.

"This isn't the Hilton," I pointed out weakly.

"This is better than the Hilton," his angry voice spoke from just beside me.

I tried to pull myself up onto my elbow but failed miserably. I could barely turn my head enough to look at him. It mattered little. The room was too dark for me to be able to make out his expression. "I told your doorman I wanted to be taken back to the Hilton after I passed out. He said you'd made arrangements."

"What Owen meant to say was that I'd made arrangements to keep you here."

"Aiden," I practically whined. "I can't stay here."

"Why?"

The forceful sound of his voice, the demand of it, almost made me admit the true reason I couldn't be there, the one that had nothing to do with propriety and sick werewolves. The fact that I'd used his given name at all meant I wasn't thinking clearly.

So I told him a half truth, "I don't trust you."

He pushed out an angry breath. "You'll stay here until you can walk down those stairs on your own."

I heard pounding footsteps move away from me. My heart leapt in worry. "Don't hurt him. He's an asshole but he doesn't deserve to die because of it."

The vampire replied from further away, perhaps the door. "I have no intention of nullifying your sacrifice. I'm merely going to make certain that he's removed from my home."

I supposed I couldn't argue with that, even if I'd had enough energy to do so. My eyes closed because I couldn't hold them open any longer. The darkness took hold once again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I wasn't quite sure what time it was when I woke next. Hell, I didn't even know what day it was. One thing I was sure of: I had to use a restroom in a massive way.

Thankfully my body cooperated enough to sit up. Getting to the edge of the bed took effort but it could have been because the damn thing was as big as a continent. Gingerly I attempted to stand with the help of the tall bedpost at the foot of the bed. When I didn't immediately topple over I took a step forward, followed it with another and then stopped when I realized I was completely nude.

My cheeks flushed crimson. Gods. How could I have forgotten?

I wasn't sure if I should be furious that the werewolf Alpha had taken such advantage of me or if I should be concerned that he might not be among the living

First things first, I hobbled back to the bed to gather up the blanket as a makeshift robe. Now that I wasn't quite so naked I headed back toward the door that was lit by a single night-light plugged into the nearby wall. Thankfully I got the door opened without a sound. I tiptoed into the hallway, peeking in each entrance in hopes of finding the bathroom. It was just across the corridor.

My brain had cleared by the time I pushed my hands beneath the warm stream of water in the stone sink. I took in my surroundings to avoid looking at my no doubt harried appearance in the mirror. Aiden's bathroom was lovely with pale pink marble floors and walls and a gray granite counter with matching sink. The stand up stone shower had luxurious etched glass doors that were similar to the pattern downstairs. It was large enough to hold a bench, several shelves and what looked to be a digital screen on the wall.

I'd been so distracted by the niceties of the restroom that I'd not thought to peek into the hall before I exited. Aiden stood rested against the wall opposite with darkness filling each deep line around his features. I was startled enough find him there that I didn't think to fix the blanket tightly around me until his eyes had begun to stray down.

"Feeling better?" He asked in an unreadable voice.

"Almost one hundred percent," I lied.

He grunted. "You lie as well as you act."

That he'd called me on the falsehood put me on the defensive. My chin lifted defiantly. "I'm well enough to walk down your stairs on my own two feet."

"Then I suppose you'll be leaving."

The inexpressive tone was getting to me. Was that sarcasm? Irritation? Happiness? "You suppose correctly."

"Can I persuade you to stay one more night in the interest of safety?" He adopted a slight drawl to add, "You have had multiple assassination attempts leveled against your life recently."

He'd been worried? That was actually kind of sweet. But I shook my head anyway. "The sabbath isn't going to wait on my safety."

"Will you at least take someone with you?"

"I took someone with me last time, remember?" I left off "and look where it got me" but I was certain he'd gotten the idea.

"Will you at least take me with you?"

I could only blink at him in confusion for a long moment. "I don't understand you."

"I would be concerned if you did," he replied before I could explain what I'd meant.

I was even more perplexed now. "You came to me to investigate this because the vampires couldn't be linked to it but yet you've shown up at every turn and have been seen with me in public on multiple occasions. Now you want me to take you with me?"

Rather than give me a straight answer, he said, "Do you agree with every decision your government has made?"

I made a sound of disgust while walking around him to the room he'd deposited me in hours ago. I wasn't sure why I was bothering moving. It wasn't as if I had any clothes in the room to change into.

He followed me inside but didn't crowd me. He did, however, turn on the light. Soft yellow illumination flooded the sumptuously decorated room. I could now see that the mountain of pillows on the bed was a mixture of soft green and lavender that matched the pattern of the wallpaper. Like an expensive hotel, someone had bravely topped the bed in a crisp white duvet.

Aiden explained his odd question now that we were in the light, "Just as you no doubt disagree with much your government does, I too take issue with things the Senate decrees. Boston brought the issue of the desert shale, demon summoning and mysterious organization amassing within our midst to our table. They requested permission and funds to secure the assistance of a mercenary for hire. Boston pled their case eloquently. The Senate majority agreed to the dispensation of funds. When the decision came to which mercenary for hire would be neutral to all parties, no one could agree on a name until one was put forth: the Black Death, a mysterious entity they'd learned of not long ago. I didn't agree with the decision to have the Black Death do our dirty work. I fought to have the suggestion tabled but was overturned." He paused long enough that I was getting worried about what was yet to come. Then he said, "So I volunteered to track you down to keep any others from finding you."

I was stunned into silence. When the hell had Aiden figured out that I was the Black Death? Maybe the question I ought to be asking was why hadn't he tried to blackmail me with that information?

"How long have you known?" I whispered.

"Nearly two years," he replied almost as quietly.

The air left me in a rush. I couldn't believe that he'd known that long and had done nothing about it.

I turned to fix him with a sharp eye. "How long have you been following me?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

No. I didn't. Again. But I did want an answer to my other question. "Why haven't you blackmailed me?"

Aiden's right eyebrow arched. "Blackmail you? Why would I blackmail you?"

"Everyone else who has learned my secret has used it for leverage to get me to do what they want."

"Who has done this?" The muscle in Aiden's jaw twitched even as red began to form around his silver irises.

My head shook rapidly. "I'm not answering you when you look ready to tear someone apart."

"Do I look like that?" He said mildly as his expression softened to the unreadable one I was familiar with.

"Still not answering you," I muttered while glancing away.

"I have information for you regarding the phone."

He was back to business. I relaxed against the bed a little. Business was good.

Aiden continued, "The phone call the witch made was answered by a phone within the Dungeon."

"Of course," I muttered.

"It's registered to a dummy corporation with an address near the club. I took the liberty of having Owen check the building out but he found nothing of note."

"Great. So I have no leads, still."

Aiden continued without commenting, "The extra wallet you brought back from the warehouse belonged to an Earth witch that had gone rogue a month ago. That was all I was able to find out about him. As you no doubt know, the other was a Fire witch of Morrígan's coven. The two that tried to run you off the road were humans with criminal records and outstanding warrants. I made certain the police found them. And the man that attempted to kill you inside the club had a similar rap sheet. I regret that I have nothing truly useful."

I sighed and let my head fall against the bedpost behind me. "Then I'm just going to have to use myself as bait."

"You can barely stand without wavering. At least wait until tomorrow night before considering any plan."

"The sabbath is this weekend. I don't have the luxury of waiting."

"Laura, please," he took a step forward. It was the first time I could recall Aiden using my given name. "I will beg if I have to."

The thought of Aiden Bruce begging me sent a warm wave of...something I couldn't name through me. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure what I'd say, but he interrupted me.

"Whatever you want, ask and it's yours. Simply wait one night." His voice was soft, urgent and filled with concern similar to the wide, imploring set of his eyes. It affected me more than anything else he'd done to date. The sound of it slid beneath my skin, within my veins and drew a shiver from me. "Please."

I couldn't just tell him no. "One night," I said warily.

"One night," he agreed.

"One night and you stop following me."

His jaw set tightly. "You've needed my help far too many times for me to agree to that."

My eyes narrowed at him. He'd lied. He'd said anything I wanted. "Then I'm not waiting one night..."

In a blur he shot across the room to grasp my arms for a good shake. The feel of his cool fingers on my limbs was impossible to ignore. My body instantly warmed despite the tepid temperature of his skin. "You are a fragile mortal human. Why can't you act it?"

I tried to hold the fervor of his silver eyes and ignore my body's reaction. "Because I'm not a fragile mortal human."

Aiden let go of me suddenly with a murmured apology. The quick backwards steps he took were probably as close to a stumble as his graceful body could yield.

"Owen is preparing a meal," he told me once he'd neared the door as if nothing had happened. "There is clothing in the closet, towels in the bathroom and an array of soaps in the cabinet. Or if you'd prefer a bath, there is a tub in my bathroom down the corridor. He will be finished in twenty minutes."

He paused in the doorway long enough that I could have argued. I didn't.

Once he'd disappeared I decided that a shower sounded good. Damn good. Especially considering what had happened in bed with the werewolf Alpha. Oh gods. I hadn't even asked how he was.

On the modern style dresser made of dark wood with rounded edges sat the purse I'd left in my car. Beside it were my guns, one half melted and the other in perfect condition with the clip still inside. And next to them was my phone.

I lifted it to find that it was eleven twenty-two on Monday night. I'd slept nearly twenty hours. There were several voice mail messages and more missed calls awaiting me. The voice mail messages were the first thing I'd tackle.

Morrígan had called, upset that I'd hung up on her after "such insulting parting words" and wanting a better explanation for what had happened to me. The next call was from Gray. He'd phoned to extend an invitation to stay with him since he'd learned of my flooded apartment. The third message was from Morrígan demanding to know where I'd gone. A fourth message was from the Alpha. I listened to it twice.

"I, um, don't quite know what to say," Dominick said with a sigh into the phone. "I feel like I should apologize for takin' advantage of you, but truthfully I'm not a bit sorry." His voice sharpened, "Your vampire...whatever the hell he is...broke my leg. But otherwise I'm good." There was a pause while his rumbling voice dropped lower and softened. "Thanks to you. You saved my stupid fuckin' life." The Alpha let out a sardonic laugh. "I shoulda listened to you. I only got in the way just like you said I would. I am sorry for that. You probably could be interrogatin' those bastards, like you did to Michael, right now if it hadn't been for me." I listened while he exhaled an upset breath then paused for two seconds. "Please call me when you can so I know he didn't eat you."

The fifth message was from Andy about setting up a meeting with his ex the real estate agent. It was nice to hear from a normal person about ordinary problems like finding an apartment. But I couldn't meet with a real estate person now if I was only going to die trying to stop a demon from being brought into the world. Andy would have to wait.

I shuffled into the bathroom across the hall with my phone in hand. After figuring out how the nozzle worked I got the shower going full blast but stood just outside it to make my phone calls. Morrígan was first.

Oscar answered and before I could get a message out she'd grabbed the phone from him. "You will tell me where you are, Lore."

"I'm pretty weak from healing the Alpha so I'm keeping a low profile," I told her vaguely. "Too many people have tried to kill me."

Morrígan's husky voice had all the hallmarks of a jealous woman, sharp edges and emphasis on the word she despised most, "You are with him."

"No, the Alpha is at his own home."

"Not the Alpha," she said impatiently. "You are with the vampire."

I had absolutely no idea how to reply to that.

My silence was apparently enough verification for her. "You told me he wasn't your lover."

"He isn't," I insisted. "He's the one that asked me to look into who was pulling the strings from the Dungeon. I guess he feels responsible for the attempts on my life."

"As well he should," Morrígan snapped. Her mood did a complete one eighty a moment later. She spoke in her sultriest of voices. "Keep a low profile here, dearest. You know how secure my stronghold is. You will be safe with me."

No one would try to kill me at Morrígan's stronghold but I most certainly wouldn't be safe. "I already agreed to stay here one more night. If I still need to keep a low profile tomorrow then I'll consider going there."

"I suppose I have no choice." She sighed. "Be safe, dearest."

"I'll try," I replied then murmured good night before disconnecting the call.

The call had taken a lot out of me and I hadn't expected it to. Did I really want to call the Alpha? No.

I compromised by sending him a text message that said, "I've not been eaten." Dominick sent one back ten seconds later that read, "Stop by and I'll fix that," with an address attached. I couldn't help but laugh as I stepped into the shower.

The scrubbing, soaping and rinsing had to be quick because I'd used up five of my twenty minutes on phone messages and Morrígan. I stepped out of the steaming water ten minutes later feeling much better. That lasted until I got to the closet and found a ridiculous amount of clothing hanging from hangers with the tags still attached. It didn't help that I recognized the department store bags on the ground beneath them and several boxes of designer shoes I knew cost more than some of my furniture had.

I'd stupidly been expecting old gym pants or summer items that weren't being used when he'd said there was clothing in the closet. Not this. Would a closet full of women's clothing without tags upset me less? Probably not.

I grabbed the most casual thing I could find among the hangers. It was a pair of black velvet pants and a gauzy black shirt. In the bags were all manner of undergarments, none of them things I'd have bought myself. I pulled on the least offensive set, lacy black boy short panties and a matching bra. After hopping into everything and pushing my toes into a pair of black ballet flats that probably cost half my monthly rent, I headed downstairs.

Aiden met me outside the room that housed his large television. He gestured for me to follow him downstairs. We continued down into the impressive foyer, into a formal dining room and ultimately ended up in a large, warm kitchen where the doorman hurried between the wide counters. There was a rectangular table at one end with a mouth-watering spread of food displayed in colorful dishes.

"Eat, eat," the doorman fussed while dropping a dish of steaming spinach on the table amongst the other bowls. "Half of it is cold already."

"Owen rarely gets the chance to cook," Aiden informed me with a half smile as he gestured to the sole plate at the table. "And yet he insists upon watching the Food Network."

I settled myself into the seat in front of the overwhelming number of dishes. There was no way I could eat a tenth of what he'd made. We'd have needed a party of twenty to eat it all.

Owen shuffled over to carefully set a small silver colored appetizer plate atop the larger dark blue ceramic plate in front of me. There were two crispy round pieces of bread sporting an odd black paste on the tiny plate. I smelled the tang of salt rise up from the stuff.

The younger vampire poured a blush colored wine into the blue glass that was sitting in front of my plate, declaring, "First an aperitif and amuse-bouche."

"He fancies himself a French chef," Aiden added in amusement. I glanced over to find that he'd rested against the wall with his arms folded in front of his chest, dividing his attention between the two of us.

The younger vampire leveled an irritated look at him.

Aiden inclined his head slightly in a small bow. "I will refrain from my derisive little jabs, dear, else you pout."

The other shook his head in what appeared disgust while he sawed through a loaf of steaming bread. "With talk like that, she'll believe we're lovers."

My stomach clenched in...was that jealousy? Good gods, was I irritated to hear Aiden was gay with a live in lover? I was an idiot.

"I'm sure she already does," Aiden replied lightly. "It's the rumor among the Underground."

Owen turned to set the basket of bread down. He wiped his hands on the serviceable white apron he wore over his blue shirt and relaxed jeans. "We're not," he assured me. "Lord Bruce has never been interested in the sweatier sex."

I shrugged lightly despite the irritation that was steadily fading. "I didn't ask."

He ignored me to continue, "I use him for his money and renown and he uses me for odd jobs."

"What the two of you do in private is none of my business," I said just before taking a polite sip of the wine.

They exchanged one of their looks of silent communication.

After setting the glass aside I picked up the crispy bread round for a cautious nibble. Owen waited just beside the table for my judgment. The black stuff was salty and a bit tangy, a flavor I wasn't familiar with at all. I managed a smile and said, "It's certainly different."

He cleared off the small plate before working to fill the large one with all manner of food combinations. That was a serving of asparagus, one with spinach, cranberries and walnuts, another with chicken in a creamy white sauce, next was an different entree of thinly sliced medium rare beef with feta cheese topping and finally a chunk of bread coated in garlic butter. My blush wine was replaced by something darker and I was given a new napkin.

"I'm going to have to be rolled back upstairs," I joked with my fork posed above the beef.

It was tender enough to be cut without a knife. Unlike the strange black stuff, this was delicious. I sampled a little bit of everything on the plate. Each had its own unique flavor that somehow complimented one another.

"Gods," I let out a little moan, "You could open up your own place."

That earned me a beam bright enough to blind. Owen had a lovely smile that I'd never seen until then. "I could kiss you for that," he exclaimed. There was a nervous glance to the left where Aiden stood. "But he'd kill me."

"Seriously, though," I rambled to keep from getting uncomfortable about that statement. "This is really, really good. That first thing, no offense, was not my cup of tea. But this...I'm going to get sick eating too much of it."

Pleased as punch, Owen settled back to rest against the counter. His pose was relaxed now. I had the feeling that he was living vicariously through me just then.

The doorman-turned-chef let me eat for a few minutes before launching into a new, very uncomfortable topic, "Now that you are my captive audience there are some things I've been curious about. Like why do you disapprove of Lord Bruce?"

"Owen," Aiden's voice had gone low in warning.

"I wasn't aware that I did," I replied with my eyes focused on the vegetables on my plate.

"You reject his gifts," Owen continued, "Avoid him whenever possible and refuse to accept his hospitality."

I heard Aiden snap something in a language I didn't understand. The younger man snapped something right back.

"Let her eat in peace," Aiden said in English.

Owen wouldn't be stopped. "I'd like to know why she's never properly thanked you for saving her life on multiple occasions. It is an insult that wouldn't have been tolerated were she one of us."

"She isn't one of us," the senator pointed out quickly.

"But isn't it common courtesy to show some form of gratitude?"

"She has shown gratitude," Aiden said stiffly. "She accepted the ridiculous request to investigate the demon summoning."

"You said it yourself," Owen continued, heedless to Aiden's growing anger, "She's the only true force for good in the city. She'd have been investigating it regardless of your request, had she known about it."

I wasn't sure which part was more frustrating, that they were discussing me as if I weren't there or that I felt ashamed for never showing gratitude. Should I be?

Aiden said something in that same harsh, foreign language. Owen responded by tearing the apron off and throwing it on the counter behind him. Then he stomped out of the kitchen without a word.

"I apologize for his discourtesy," Aiden spoke softly after the door had settled on its hinges from its wild swinging into both rooms.

I had my answer by that time. "I can't thank you for doing something I didn't want you to do."

"I know. I've never expected gratitude. It wasn't my purpose." He gestured toward the table. "Please. Eat. We didn't mean for your meal to be ruined."

My appetite waned thanks to the downturn in my mood but I didn't want to get Owen in trouble by refusing to eat. I took a bite of the green concoction while I considered what had been said. Did Aiden really think I was the only true force for good in the city? I wasn't sure if that was a compliment when spoken by a vampire. It was a nice sentiment nonetheless but a role I didn't think I could live up to. How could a woman with the power to plague people to death with a single touch be the only true force for good? Or a woman that had little compunction about shooting creatures during interrogation simply because she could Heal them back to health before any true harm was done?

I watched Aiden glide to the counter to pour himself a glass of the dark wine Owen had given me. It occurred to me that aside from Aiden and Owen, the only time I'd really been exposed to vampires had been when they were trying to kill me for interrupting their feeding sessions. Those few I'd come across had been little better than wild animals, certainly not graceful and cultured like these men were. Did I have to revise my opinion of them being the top of my evil scale?

Aside from the vampire voodoo Aiden had used on the werewolf's sister, Aiden had been a model monster. I couldn't see him doing anything so uncouth as attacking a defenseless human. And that worried me.

I knew he was capable of it. The fact that I allowed myself to be blinded by the act he portrayed meant that the act had worked. I needed to leave as soon as possible before I was blinded by anything else.

"You haven't eaten a bite in several minutes," he noted in a voice edged in irritation. "You've merely been pushing it around on your plate."

"It was a lot of food." I shoved back from the table now that I'd been found out. I'd lifted the plate off the table with the intention of carrying it to the sink when Aiden stepped in front of me.

"Leave it. He will clean up," he said. A scowl crinkled the edges of his silver eyes.

It wasn't my place to argue, though I wanted to, badly. Instead of getting involved in their household squabble I set the plate back down, fixed the chair back in its place and then followed him out of the kitchen. He led me upstairs to the room with the television.

"I regret that I have a meeting," he said with the large remote control balanced between his long, golden fingers. "We have every channel available. Perhaps you'll find something to entertain you until I return. If not, feel free to purchase a movie or peruse my library." Aiden gestured to my right, "It's the next door over. The kitchen is at your disposal. Owen will be about if you require anything."

Aiden hesitated a moment before handing the device over to me. Awkwardly I stood while he merely looked at me. His eyes passed over my face as if memorizing it before he let out a heavy breath and then walked past me to the room's exit.

Maybe a night of mindless television was in order after the past few days I'd had. Hell, it was in order after the last few weeks.

I dropped down into the sectional sofa to spend several seconds studying the complicated remote control. Ten minutes later I'd settled on a comedy on one of the premium movie stations. Now if I could just relax a little in the strange house I might actually be able to enjoy it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The ringing of a phone woke me from a sound sleep. I rolled over, four times on the massive bed, to grab my cell phone off the bedside table. Blearily I slid my finger over the button to accept the call without opening my eyes.

"This had better be an emergency," I told whoever was calling.

"Lore," Grayson Dennison's voice spoke in an urgent tone. "I need help in a bad way. We got ambushed on the way back from our meet last night by a group of mixed witches. One of my shifters is about to die and my Healer was shot. Can you get here?"

I'd sat upright when he'd said someone was about to die. "Yes. Where?"

"My house. Do you remember...?"

I interrupted him, "You're still up in Revere, right?"

"Yup."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," I said while pulling on the black velvet jeans I'd worn last night. My concern distracted me enough that I hung up without telling him good-bye.

It wasn't until I'd gotten downstairs to my car that I realized I had a problem. Aiden's Audi was parked in front of the garage that currently held my Mini Cooper. The sun was high in the sky because it was still midmorning. There was no chance the vampire would be moving his car any time soon.

I didn't have time for this shit. I stomped through the garage to try the handle on the Audi's driver's side door. Surprisingly it opened without emitting an alarm. A quick check above the visor merited me the keys. I knelt within the car for a full minute, attempting to understand what the hell the vampire was thinking leaving the keys to his hundred and twenty thousand dollar car above the visor in the unlocked vehicle in the middle of downtown Boston. But there wasn't time for this!

Five minutes later I had the R8 parked in the garage, the keys returned to the visor, and was running Indiana-Jones-style under the rapidly closing garage door. Now I had less than fifteen minutes to drive the ten miles to Revere in the middle of a Tuesday morning through downtown. If anyone could do it, it would be me.

I took the interstate so I could speed for half the trip. My lane weaving was double my usual craziness. Thankfully I avoided any speed traps and only had a few near misses. I pulled into Gray's driveway one minute late.

The Prime met me at the front door looking rested and surprisingly well-groomed considering what he'd said on the phone. I walked past him into the house with eyes scanning for the wounded. No one was on his sofa and the bed I could see peeking through the guest room door appeared to be likewise empty. There were no sounds in the house except for the television playing Deadliest Catch and the steady ticking of his wall clock. I whirled around on my heel to look at him in confusion.

"Where...?" My voice stalled when I saw the expression on his face.

He was upset. No. It was more than that. He was guilty.

Something wasn't right. There hadn't been any other cars in the driveway. No one was dying.

"Gray," I drawled in a low voice dripping with suspicion. "What's going on?"

"We didn't want it to be this way. We really didn't." He was speaking in monotone, a sound completely unlike him.

My eyes went impossibly wide. "No. Not you. Anyone else but you!"

Gray's features scrunched up as if he were in pain just before his entire body shook. Whatever the tremor had been cleared quickly. A blank expression affixed to his face a second before he pounced on me.

I hadn't seen it coming.

I hadn't seen any of it coming. And even if I had known Gray had a syringe filled with something to knock me out, I probably wouldn't have done a damn thing about it. There were few people in the world I wouldn't hurt to save myself or someone else; Gray was one of them. It was the realization I'd come to when I woke up in a three-foot by three-foot cell in a new pound-for-women with a debilitating headache. I might have to reevaluate that now.

My wounded pride overrode any anger I had. I'd been so stupid. I'd run right to him as soon as he'd called for help. I hadn't told anyone where I was going, hadn't thought I needed to. How could I have been so wrong about Grayson Dennison?

It took me several minutes to get over the hurt of being betrayed enough to think clearly. I had to find a way out of the cage. I needed to find out who else was involved in this besides the Prime of Massachusetts. He'd said "we". Unless he'd recently taken up using the majestic plural there was at least one other person involved in this plot.

"Hello?" I called out in hopes of figuring out if I was alone.

"Shh, they shock us," a soft feminine voice whispered.

Déjà vu. Well, I knew I wasn't alone now.

"Gray!" I shouted furiously. "You coward! You asshole! How dare you do this to me!"

"Be quiet!" Another girl hissed.

But the shock of electricity I'd expected never came.

"Grayson, what would your father think? Would he approve of you kidnapping me? How could you?"

A door opened off to the side just barely out of my line of sight. Gray shuffled in with a miserable expression on his face. Bravely he stood a foot in front of my cage. The bars were plenty big for me to get my hands through. I could easily choke the hell out of him right before I sent him to Hades. By the morose sigh he let out I thought maybe he wanted me to.

But I didn't. Instead I pulled further back into the cage away from him, uncertain I could trust myself.

"Kill me, Laura," he said in a pleading whisper. "Please."

Horrified by the plea, I wrapped my arms around my knees, tightly pulling them to my chest to keep from reaching out for him. "Let me out," I said as calmly as I could manage despite the flipping of my stomach like a Russian gymnast at the Olympics.

Gray's voice sounded miserable and perhaps near to tears. "I can't."

"Why?"

"The order is to kill you if you get out."

"Who gave the order?"

He shook his head before repeating himself more urgently. "Kill me."

"Is something controlling you, Gray? Blink twice..." I knew he didn't need me to finish the explanation. He'd used that very tactic on me once long ago.

Gray didn't blink at all. We had a staring match until I had to press my eyelids shut to clear away the water that had developed from forcing them open for too long. He finally closed his eyes with a glance to the right.

"Join us, Black Death," he said in a hollow voice. His use of my alter ego's name didn't surprise me. Gray had known about my powers for nearly a decade. "With all of the factions working together we can bring about a new era in Boston."

"All of the factions working together under whom?"

He continued as if I hadn't said anything. "Cooperation for the greater good. You will see our way is the only way."

"If kidnapping women is part of the greater good then spank me and call me a bad monkey," I replied snarkily.

"But if you refuse to see, we will kill you," Gray finished with his attention still focused on something off to the right.

He remained where I could get to him for two minutes in silence. I supposed I probably should have done something to him considering he had just threatened my life. But I couldn't bring myself to. My conscience couldn't handle hurting Grayson Dennison.

"Gray," I whispered. "Please. What is going on?"

His answer was to walk away without looking at me. I smacked my hands against the metal bars four times in increasing fury after the door closed him away from me. Something was manipulating him. It was the only way I could believe he'd turn on me like this. But what was powerful enough to manipulate the Prime of Massachusetts?

A vampire.

My thoughts stretched back to the warning Kastio had given me at the very beginning. The vampire is holding something back. Aiden had known back then that a leech was involved. Why the hell hadn't he told me?

I smacked against the bars several times more with an outraged scream. How many more people had betrayed me during this investigation? I was usually so careful not to trust anyone but I'd really dropped the ball this time. Maybe Morrígan was the brains behind everything and now that her seduction had failed to capture me, she'd resorted to violence. And what about Dominick? I'd trusted him. What was his part in all of this?

My head dropped back against the metal wall behind me in defeat. I'd already lost. I couldn't kill my captor to free myself because I loved him in some fashion, be it as a friend or something else. Whoever had me must have known that.

I had lost.

And because of it, all of Boston would pay.

It wasn't until hours later that we received another visit from our jailer. Gray flipped on the light in the new pound-for-women blinding us temporarily. I watched him shuffle over the generic industrial linoleum floor to unlatch the cage for one of my fellow prisoners.

The brunette cried against his shoulder as he lifted her out. Her blubbering was incoherent but we all knew what she wanted: freedom. He grit out sharp commands to stand up, shut up, and walk that sounded nothing like the Gray I knew. A handful of minutes passed before the girl was returned, stuffed into her cage again and then given rations. They consisted of a small bag of beef jerky, a piece of bread and a bottle of water.

When it came time for me to be brought out, I grabbed his face in my hands as soon as my feet hit the ground. I tried to force him to look at me but his eyes automatically dropped to the floor.

"Gray," I said quietly because I knew we were being monitored. "You can't do this. You know that. You know it's wrong. You have to do something to stop it. This isn't the greater good."

His fingers dug into my wrists to tear them from him. I was whirled around and shoved forward out the door into darkened hallway. He pushed me through an entrance to a small room with a single toilet, a sink and a small trash bin that could have been in any roadside gas station.

I stared at the commode contemplating how badly I'd need to use it versus how much I valued my privacy for this particular act. The pressure on my arm toward the toilet made it virtually impossible to do anything but what he wanted. My cheeks flushed red as I pulled my pants down to do my business with a man's hand squeezing the life out of my forearm. It didn't matter that his eyes were screwed shut so tightly that it probably hurt. He was in the room with me. This was one of the most mortifying things I'd ever had to do. I suppose I should be thankful for that. There were far worse acts I could have been forced to do.

He let me wash my hands when I'd finished, a small pleasure I'd been certain would be taken from me. But my fury over the situation had me punching him any place I could find as he shoved me out into the corridor. When he didn't so much as blink, I kicked him in the groin simply to get a reaction out of him.

Gray let out a grunt just before pushing me hard into the wall of cages. I managed to note that there were only two other women before my body slammed into it. My captor unceremoniously dumped me into the cage, shut the bars half on my hand and then stomped away.

I cried against the wall as soon as he was out of earshot. I hated that I was exhibiting sorrow in front of others but I couldn't help myself. It took me several minutes to understand all of the reasons why I was upset.

Beyond the betrayal and mortification, I knew I was going to have to hurt Gray.

Two things were my yardsticks for time's passing during my incarceration: Gray's visits to take us to the bathroom and the addition of three other women. If my count was correct then it was Friday night. A lanky blonde we'd never seen had just been stuffed into the cage beside me. I knew she'd be in pain from the cramped quarters when she woke from her drugged stupor.

The only captor I'd seen in three days' time was Grayson. He visited us twice a day to give us our grizzled rations and water and to conduct the humiliating visit to the bathroom.

During my trips he held my arm with his supernaturally strong grip and avoided my gaze. He had not asked me to kill him since the first night. He had not spoken to me at all.

The other girls were given sharp commands to walk, to stop, to shut up. But Gray didn't bother with any of that for me. It made little sense because I was the most troublesome captive he had.

I'd tried to reason with him. I'd tried to break away. I'd beat on him with all my might. Nothing got a rise out of him. It was as if I were little more than a rat to be dealt with. A person would at least verbally scold a misbehaving dog. No, I was in league with vermin in Gray's eyes.

It hurt. Each day that passed took a little more out of me. I tried to tell myself that someone had control of my friend. But I couldn't understand how someone could control his every action. It was impossible for me to believe that he couldn't do something to help me.

He could fail to lock my cage properly or pretend to be distracted while we walked to the bathroom. There was any number of actions he could take to aid that would appear accidental. The fact that he hadn't made me believe he didn't want to.

My captor surprised me by stopping in front of my cage after he'd stuffed our newest addition into her new home. His face turned toward me until his eyes were holding mine. It had been the first time he'd looked at me since begging me to kill him days earlier. I stared mutely, willing him to say something, anything.

Gray's eyelids closed over his brown irises, a sorrowful gesture. He murmured something that had sounded an awful lot like "forgive me" just before his large hand pushed between the metal bars to grab my leg.

"No!" I cried out when I saw the syringe jab into the fleshy part opposite my ankle.

The last thing I remembered seeing was Gray's dead-eyed stare just before I blacked out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I knew I was in a world of trouble when I woke strapped to a pole in the middle of a sacred circle. Coarse hemp rope cut into my wrists where they were affixed to the dry wooden log behind me. My ankles were similarly bound several inches off the ground. Five straps around my body suspended me in midair. The first secured my head to the wood in such a way that I couldn't move it more than a few millimeters. The others were above my breasts, around my waist, another at my hips and the last bound my knees together.

My vision was limited to what I could see in front of me and in my peripheral vision. The latter was murky thanks to tunnel vision I was ascribing to the after effects of whatever drug Gray had used to knock me out.

It was night but someone had set up torches around the perimeter of the salt-lined circle. There were chunks of sandy colored rock at regular intervals edging the salt. No doubt it was the rare desert shale Mailman Michael had delivered.

From what I could gather there were two women strapped to wooden poles in front of me. Their eyes were closed and their poses slack as if they were still unconscious. Logic would tell me the other three women were arranged behind me.

An impressively large moon hung low on the horizon in front of me. I saw it as a harbinger of evil. I had failed. The demon summoning was going to take place after all. And I'd have a front row seat to it as one of the human sacrifices.

It all began with someone screaming frantically behind me in a wordless howl. A sharp feminine voice that sounded vaguely familiar shouted out, "Muzzle her!" The screaming was cut off abruptly.

I was struggling to place the woman's voice in my memory bank of people when she walked around the outside edge of the circle into my line of sight. The spiky white hair and bluish tinted skin of Talise the priestess of Water witches were easy to pick out in the torchlight. My jaw set so tightly that I heard a crack in my ears.

I'd had the culprit in my grasp and I'd let her go! Worse, I'd Healed her beyond her regular health! Good gods, what I'd done would help her to spawn mini-evil priestesses. I was truly an idiot. If I managed to get out of this I was seriously going to have to reevaluate just about everything in my life.

The blue woman was dressed in a long flowing white robe that hung open, revealing her naked body. Apparently she took the "sky clad optional" portion of rituals a little too seriously. Behind her trailed her brawny lover, Gerard, wearing his robe belted around his abdomen. His eyes were focused on me with a kind of savage intensity I knew didn't bode well for me walking away from this.

Two more figures appeared around the side. One had broad shoulders and unruly hair that was too familiar to be anyone other than Grayson Dennison. A petite woman with long flame-colored hair shoved him forward. I had to admit that she was very beautiful, not the exotic and voluptuous beauty of Morrígan, but lovely all the same. But there was a certain kind of wrongness about her that I knew could mean only one thing: she was a vampire.

"You sure you gonna be able to get him to do it?" Talise asked in her unpolished Dorchester accent.

"For the final time, yes," the redhead replied in a foreign sounding voice that was frigid enough to turn the witch bluer. She spider-walked fire engine red fingernails up the front of Gray's chest. "He will do anything I ask of him."

Gray stood still while she did it, unblinking his dead-eyed stare. My stomach did an uneasy roll.

I'd already outlined the tale in my head. Gray had no doubt succumbed to the vampire's charms, become her lover and somehow allowed himself to be taken over. Which of the two of them should have my ire? Her for daring to mess with my friend or him for foolishly getting involved with a vampire bitch in the first place?

The redhead seemed to note my presence a moment later. She took a step forward to stand on the very edge of the line of salt staring at me boldly. Apparently my vulnerable position strapped to a pole wasn't insult enough.

"Kiss me, Grayson," the vampire demanded with her eyes fixed on my face.

He stepped nearer, slid his hand beneath her long flaming hair and laid a lip lock on her worthy of a pornographic movie. The grizzled remains of the beef jerky rolled sickly in my stomach. Her triumphant smirk when he pulled away made me wish the angry red I was seeing could be focused into a beam of fire aimed at her heart.

"Let's get this show on the road," Talise announced just before tossing off her robe. "He...goes into the circle." Her blue finger made a sweeping gesture from Gray toward the center of the sacred space where I was. "But first, he needs this."

The nasty looking foot-long dagger Gerard produced from a long satchel did not look promising.

"Take the dagger and go into the circle, Grayson," the vampire ordered.

The shapeshifter walked around the salt to take the knife from Talise's lover. Robotically he stepped over the line of salt to stand just inside with his eyes on the ground. Talise said a few words and made some gestures, I assumed to close the sacred circle again.

The Water witch turned toward the vampire with her head cocked to the right. "You sure you're gonna be able to order him from a half a mile away?"

"We cannot begin our partnership toward a better Boston with you questioning my every move!" The vampire snarled in answer.

"You are right, Linea," the witch murmured. "You will do what you have to for the greater good."

That was the piece of information I'd needed. I might not have recognized her appearance but I knew the name. Linea was one of the three rulers of Boston. If I lived through this Aiden Bruce was going to be getting a visit from me and I couldn't guarantee we'd both walk away from it.

The vampire took out a slim cellular phone, hit a button and then dropped it on the ground. She was gone before I could make out which way she went. I wasn't sure if her departure was a good thing. One less person to attack me could be helpful but it was also one less bad guy for me to conveniently kill if I happened to get free. There was still the ridiculous hope in the back of my head that I would figure some way out of this even though I might as well be hogtied and drunk.

Gerard gave me a last glare before walking to the portion of the circle behind me. Moments later Talise's arms lifted above her toward the sky and she began chanting in a foreign language. The male voice behind me joined in soon after.

My blood pressure shot up when Gray stepped forward. Oh gods. He was going to stab me. My friend was going to kill me!

I somehow managed to keep quiet despite my trepidation until I realized he was continuing past me. He was going to do something to the others first.

"Gray," I whispered, knowing his supernaturally enhanced senses would hear it anyway. "You can't do this. Snap out of it."

I heard an unmistakable sound, a quick wet slashing. He had stabbed a woman behind me!

"Gray!" I screamed in shock. The Prime of Massachusetts wasn't supposed to kill defenseless women!

The chanting lifted in volume and grew just a little faster. I heard an anguished groan behind me that had been too low to be female. Was Gray trying to fight the vampire's control? Gods, I hoped so.

But another sickening slash followed by the dying gurgles of a woman's last labored breaths followed shortly behind. Gray had murdered a second woman. The beef jerky and bread threatened to come up. I quickly tamped it down.

"Gray," I sobbed because there was nothing else I could do. "Please. Don't do this."

It seemed pointless to reason with him. There wasn't anything there at the moment to reason with. But Talise was in full control of her faculties. If I could reach out to her, I might have a chance.

"Talise! This is wrong! Is this the kind of world you want to bring a baby into?"

She ignored me while chanting even faster. But her lover did not. Gerard snarled behind me, "Shut up, you slut! You killed one of ours!"

I was so screwed.

"Unnggg," Gray moaned just before I heard a woman's muffled scream.

The high-pitched noise cut short with a sick sloshing. If I hadn't been strapped to the pole I'd have collapsed to the ground. This was awful. But it hadn't been truly awful, not yet. No, now that Gray had moved to where I could see him it would be.

He shook all over, his body covered in blood but he still moved like Michael Myers in the Halloween movies, with measured steps and strong but unhurried gestures.

"Gray!" I shrieked. "Look at me! You have to fight this!"

"Shut her up!" Gerard hollered behind me.

Without so much as glancing back, Gray's arm shot out toward me. His fist slammed into my chest to knock the wind from me. I gasped for air even as he plunged the dagger into the slightly slumped woman's chest with a force so great that it was possible she hadn't noticed it before she'd died. The blood poured from the wound the moment he'd pulled the instrument out of her.

He seemed to shudder violently when he saw it. Another louder sound of anguish left his chest while he did so. It was barely heard over the din of the witches' rapid chanting.

The extremeness of my situation made me silently pray to the gods, Apollo to be exact. I knew Kastio wouldn't mess with Fate enough to help me out of this bind. Apollo might give me some sort of guidance. I couldn't see him giving me the powers I had only to have me die like this. But as Gray's dagger disappeared into the abdomen of the fifth woman, I started to wonder if maybe I'd been wrong.

I was going to die.

I had made a good go of it, hadn't it? I'd saved many lives, gotten rid of a horde of nasty monsters and had begun cleaning up Boston. I'd even managed to get my degree in Music Performance and scored a dream gig with the symphony while doing it. It hadn't been a shabby life, had it?

But there was still too much I'd missed out on. I'd never traveled farther than New York. I hadn't climbed a mountain. I'd never swum in the brilliant blue waters of some place impossibly warm. I'd never truly been in love.

As Grayson stood holding the bloody dagger, shaking violently, I couldn't help but think one thought: Maybe next time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

With my death imminent I spread my eyes wide to bravely experience my last few breaths. Five women were dead, sacrificed to the demon that would soon walk among mortals. I'd been left for last. Unfortunately the Prime wasn't going to make it quick.

Gray's frame shook so greatly from his effort to fight that he fell to the ground. Cries tore from his chest, "No! No!"

The witches' chanting was truly furious now, so furious that Gerard didn't stop to shout at Gray for pausing. The Prime's body rolled into a ball of quivering muscles. A cacophony of tormented moans emitted from his frame. I shamefully took a tiny bit of comfort in the fact that he was truly trying to fight the vampire's orders for me.

He shook harder, his body moved several inches to the left as he did so. I couldn't be certain but I thought his figure was actually shaking toward something, perhaps toward the outer edge of the sacred circle.

Gerard broke the chant to shout, "Your thrall is trying to break free!"

"Nuuhhhgg," Gray groaned in a pained voice seconds later.

I was no longer sobbing when Gray got to his knees. My death meant little to me in the grand scheme of things. If it had, I wouldn't have voluntarily pit myself against the majority of the things I'd fought in the nine years since I'd been transformed into a Diakonos.

Bravely I watched him get to his feet and stumble closer. He wavered there, nearly falling again. I heard an undertone of noise beneath the crazed chanting that echoed around me. Gray said, "No, no, no, no, no."

The gesture that chilled my heart was when he took the time to clean the blood off the ceremonial dagger. He even found a clean portion on the bottom of his heavily stained blue shirt to do it.

I knew then that Grayson Dennison was going to kill me.

I didn't plead with him when he started forward with that dead-eyed stare. It wasn't my Gray looking at me. This was someone under the influence of some bad, bad voodoo.

He stalled with a mighty shake and let out a wolf-like howl from deep within his throat. My silent prayers shifted. I just wanted him to get it over with. He was only prolonging the inevitable.

"Gray," I whispered, "Make it fast."

The dead-eyed stare flickered for a moment to reveal a more familiar gleam in my friend's gaze. "No, god, no," he whimpered. Another shudder took over. "Unnngg!" He was gone again.

I took a deep, steadying breath as he closed the distance to me. This waiting was excruciating. "Just do it!" I shouted at him.

His fingers shot up to my throat to squeeze it...gently. Gray lowered himself forward until his quaking chest was against me. His forehead and nose pressed to mine. I felt the warmth of his tears splash down onto my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

This was so much worse than if he'd just stabbed me as soon as he'd stood. "Just do it, please," I begged because I couldn't handle much more of this without falling to pieces.

Gray's lips slammed down on mine for a bruising kiss that lasted only seconds. When he pulled back he said five unmistakable words, "I love you, band girl."

I wasn't sure what shocked me more, what Gray had said or the debilitating pain of a dagger through the chest. Gray had stabbed me with the same force I'd seen him use on the other women. But I'd been wrong about that.

I did notice. Holy fuck did I notice.

The fact that he'd stabbed me through a lung instead of my heart didn't seem to make me feel any better considering I could barely breath despite my rapid gasps. At least if he'd hit me through the heart I'd have died quicker.

Gray pulled the dagger out with a horrified look affixed to his handsome features and fell to his knees. He screamed one long, heartfelt noise. "Noooooooooooo!"

My blood poured out of me at an alarming rate and even though I could feel my healing power furiously racing to make things better, I knew it wouldn't matter. If the wound didn't kill me, the demon that was about to appear would.

Apparently Gray had grown a pair, finally. Now that he'd killed everyone in the circle (or nearly had, I'd be dead in a few minutes), he dragged himself toward Talise. The priestess's lover must have been distracted because he didn't shout for him to stay in the circle until Gray was nearly past the salt line.

Another pained choke had a river of blood gushing out over my chest onto the ground. It must have been just the right amount needed because I felt the power in the circle snap taut seconds later. Every hair on my body stood on end. The space began pulsating with both energy and light. Each of the torches flared up like fountain fireworks before they were snuffed out with only tendrils of smoke remaining. The witches had gone quiet, perhaps in surprise.

It wasn't for long. Talise's voice called out a single foreign phrase in the darkness. Absolutely nothing happened for three heartbeats.

Then I heard roaring in my ears and felt a slight rumbling of the ground. I knew I was in for a shit storm of epic proportions. Even with the forewarning sounds I hadn't been prepared for what happened next.

The circle exploded in a column of fire that must have been visible from space. I couldn't help but scream as much as my wounded lung would allow while everything was incinerated around me in the white-hot heat. My ears burst from the thundering sound of it as if a jet engine had fallen atop me. There was nothing for my eyes to watch but the very flames of hell engulfing me. And then as suddenly as it had begun, everything went silent.

I was at peace.

There was only a calming, quiet blackness all around. Was this the afterlife? When the Diakonos of a Greek god died, did she go to Hades? I'd been hoping for the Elysian Fields. But that would be green, wouldn't it? Maybe I hadn't been heroic enough to pass there.

My peace was ruined when my chest shook in a painful, bloody cough. I saw light again in the form of the pale blue glow from the full moon overhead reflecting against my body. Aside from the knife wound in my chest, my skin was whole and unblemished. Somehow I'd ended up in a naked ball in the middle of the sacred circle.

I wasn't dead? How was that possible? How the hell wasn't I incinerated? Could Morrígan's Brand have protected me from that?

"Kill her!" Talise shrieked somewhere in front of me.

Ah hell. She was still alive. I'd have to take care of that now that I was unbound and only partially dead.

The ground shook behind me with a mighty thud and then the symptom repeated. It wasn't until I heard something breathing from very close that I understood what the noise had been: footsteps. From the sound of it, that something had a nasal problem and monstrous nostrils.

An uneven and rough object slid beneath my back. Moments later I dangled high in the air, facing a thing from out of a horror film. Worse, I was dangling from its hand.

The gray skinned creature must have been fourteen feet tall with four spiraled horns protruding from its bald head. The horns only accounted for two of the fourteen feet. Behind its monstrous shoulders was a pair of leathery wings one might expect to find on a pterodactyl. It had a humanoid face complete with all of the major features. Only the nose was odd, a smashed blunt thing in which the nostrils were merely holes in the face. Despite the ugly nose, leathery wings and sharp horns, it was the large empty obsidian eyes that disturbed me most. When I looked into them I saw nothing reflected back but emptiness I could feel gnawing at something within me.

"I have summoned you to this circle from the Realm of the Fallen. I command you, Kruzulun," Talise called out in an imperious voice. "Kill her now!"

The demon sedately turned its head toward the witch. Its horns were within inches of my face. I struggled not to react to it in fear. Most predators I went up against responded to fear. I didn't want it responding. It was holding me within a single, colossal hand that could easily squeeze the life out of me. I was confident I couldn't heal that kind of damage.

With an unhurried movement I was set down on the ground within the circle. It had been done almost with...care. Why would a demon gently set me on my feet if it were about to kill me?

"Your ritual called me," the thing said. My eyes shot wide at the thunderous voice. "But it was her blood that brought me over."

"She is our sacrifice to you!" Talise began to sound frantic. "Take her, Kruzulun!"

"The sacrifices were consumed by the flames of my arrival. This is not a sacrifice." A long, clawed finger extended toward me. "All she need do is command me with my name."

There was no thought involved in what I choked out, "I command you to go back to where you came from, Kruzulun."

The creature's head whipped toward me. "I cannot grant that."

"No!" Talise shrieked.

"She makes such racket. I would like to kill her," the demon said blandly.

"So would I," I half muttered.

The creature started toward the edge of the circle to do just that. "I cannot depart the circle without a door."

That was good to know. I glanced around now that I knew he wasn't going to kill me. The line of salt was strangely untouched though the shale was missing. No doubt it was another of the sacrifices.

"You whore!" Gerard's savage voice shouted.

I heard the man's thudding footsteps against the dirt behind me. My palm was flat in front of me as I turned toward his attack. I was ready to catch the nearest portion of skin for a good plaguing. I'd enjoy every bit of horror in Gerard's eyes as he struggled for his last breath while the sores took over.

However the asshole Gerard never made it to me. He was snatched up in the demon's meaty fist, broken in half with a revolting crunch and hurdled somewhere in the darkness. There'd been no doubt in my mind that the massive creature was a killing machine but actually seeing it in action was still a blow to my peace of mind.

I watched with a slack jaw as the thing walked out of the circle the way the witch had come in. He had his door now. Talise was dead in a similarly violent fashion before I'd comprehended that the demon had broken free of his sacred prison.

Strangely rather than fly off to begin a killing spree, the demon walked around the perimeter until he was in front of me. "What shall I do now?"

"Get back in the circle," I replied in a steadier voice. My breaths were a bit less labored now. I suspected my lung was almost fully healed.

Even though I hadn't used the demon's name he followed the command. He soon stood within feet of me. The empty black eyes stared down awaiting the next order. I couldn't help but shiver.

"Unnnng!" Gray's voice echoed in the darkness.

"A vampire has him," the demon told me.

Yes, she did. And she was going to pay for that.

I glanced over at Gray. The noise the Prime had let out wasn't just a fight against a command this time. After a quick sneeze-like sound, Gray seemed to implode into himself. He'd shifted.

"Shit," I swore.

In his animal form Gray was faster and had sharper teeth and claws. He wouldn't be able to talk once he'd transformed and I wasn't certain he could listen to reason. Gods, the witches were dead. Why couldn't the vampire just give up? Her partnership was dissolved!

The honey colored wolf pounced forward out of the darkness. Apollo's Warning gave me enough time to dart out of his path. In the split second I had I saw the reflection of the moon's light on the dagger not far from me. I ran for it, breaking through the salt.

A high-pitched yelp tore my attention back into the circle. The demon had Gray by the leg and was about to bash him against the ground. I felt my heart stop.

"No! Don't hurt him, Kruzulun!"

Those Void-like eyes turned toward me with what appeared to be curiosity. "He was going to kill you."

"I know. But it's the vampire's fault. Let him go. I'll take care of him." I hoped.

"As you wish."

The moment the demon set Gray's feet on the ground the shifter shot out toward me. I waited with my hand holding the dagger firmly beside me. My early warning system slowed everything to a crawl.

I channeled all of my energy, all of the fury and the adrenaline that coursed through my veins into a single action. My hand lifted the dagger high in the air and then swung down with a powerful force to impale Gray's thigh to the ground. The dagger's hilt partially pushed through his fur.

Apparently I was really fucking pissed.

The wolf writhed on the ground below me with a canine whimper that tore at my heart. This was the least damage I could do to him while still thwarting him. On the ground he shook, snapped and twisted. He did himself more harm than good. He wasn't going to stop until the vampire retracted her command...or died. The only other thing I could think of to do was punch him in the head with enough force to knock him out. So I tried it. The wolf went frighteningly still.

I couldn't take the time to see if I'd killed him with a mere vanilla human punch. Because if I hadn't, he was going to get up and come after me. No, I needed a head start.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I couldn't look at the fallen figure of my friend without feeling my chest squeeze in worry. So I avoided seeing that part of the circle. I noted the witch's white robe on the ground nearby. The edges of it were charred. Cinders had burned through to the ground beneath in several spots but it would be better than nothing.

I knelt to fetch it, pulling it over my shoulders. The fabric was smooth except for the few charred spots. Once clad, I stepped out in the direction of the soft glow in the distance that must be Boston.

"Mistress," the demon called after me, "Shall I remain in the circle?"

"Yes," I replied without stopping my forward momentum.

"That is not wise," he said in his dead voice. "I can help you."

A demon help me? I didn't think so. My response was, "You could also kill most of the city."

"Only if you tell me to."

The calm way with which the creature had answered was disturbing on a few levels. I blurted out another few lines, "Besides, you look...like a demon. Everyone will scream. I can't deal with screaming people."

"Easily remedied."

I was curious enough at the reply to stall and turn. There in the half destroyed circle of salt, the demon's monstrous fourteen-foot winged body slowly condensed into an entirely ordinary male body. Well, ordinary in that he didn't have wings or horns.

That body was clothed in a rather curious red linen tunic that covered his upper body but fell only to the knees of his caramel-skinned legs. Though still bald, his horns had receded into his skull. He had the look of a middle-eastern man without the facial hair I usually associated with them. And he was quite becoming, a drastic change from his nightmarish demon form.

"Will there be screaming people now?" His voice was still deep but it didn't rumble within the very ground like thunder. Spoken through human vocal chords he managed to sound bored.

No, there probably wouldn't be screaming people. But I wasn't going to answer with that. Gods, I couldn't bring a demon into Boston! Even if it was to kill the vampire responsible for the mayhem in the first place.

So I told him that.

He posed a question of me. "What else will you do with me? I cannot go back. You cannot kill me."

I didn't know about that. The plague didn't work on vampires because they were already dead. Who knew what the case was with demons? But it wasn't a good idea to let on that I might be able to hurt him. And he did have a point. What the hell would I do with him?

He glanced to the side. "The shapeshifter is regaining consciousness. Shall I fix that?"

"No way," I quickly replied to his dull question. "You stay away from him."

"You care for him?"

The awkwardness of the situation had me doing something truly stupid. I stomped forward while calling back, "Come on."

"These might help."

I gasped slightly when a set of keys magically appeared in front of my face. Not a second had passed before the demon stood just to my right holding them in his caramel colored hand. Apparently he could move as fast as a vampire.

Up close I saw that he was easily six and a half feet in this form. His eyes were still an empty void. To avoid looking at them for longer than necessary I snatched up the keys.

And then I turned aimlessly, "Any idea which way to..."

"North." He started in the opposite direction.

I had to run to keep up with his long strides. It took five minutes to travel through the wooded area that had surrounded Talise's sacred circle to the car that belonged to the keys in my hand. Somehow the demon had simply known where to walk even though I hadn't finished verbalizing where I'd wanted to go.

The vehicle the witches had brought was a black utility van with tinted windows, so kidnapper chic. The demon was in the passenger seat before I could get my door unlocked.

I slid into the driver's seat, nose crinkling at the disgusting scent of human sweat and stagnant water within the thing. I wondered if the demon was the reason behind that as I fit the key in the ignition and then started the vehicle. Once the headlights were flipped on I could see a path out of the woods. It wasn't long before I'd hit a dirt road and less time before I was on pavement.

This was insane. I'd truly lost my marbles. I was chauffeuring the demon I'd worked so hard to stop right into downtown.

"So how can you help me?" I asked to break the uneasy silence in the van. "A vampire isn't going to die if you break it in half."

"I am stronger, faster and deadlier than a vampire. I can kill anything."

I believed that. I'd seen how he killed the witches. "Yeah, well, don't. Unless I ask you to."

"Perhaps you would be better served by placing me on the defensive. What if your vocal chords are damaged?"

He had a point. I didn't like that he did. I wasn't jazzed about these ploys for violence disguised as little nuggets of wisdom.

"All right, be on the defensive," I paused to add more because I had visions of him killing someone for trying to cut me off at a stop light, "Only against people truly wishing to kill me."

The damn thing laughed. It was the eeriest sound I'd ever heard, a low, rumbling that shook the entire van. I glanced over while he was chuckling to find that a toothy grinned expression had formed on his caramel face. His profile turned slowly to look back. I couldn't hold the cold void of his black eyes for longer than a nano second.

My voice was unsteady for the first few words of the next phrase I spoke. "The vampires were pretty insistent that you not be brought into this world. Any idea why that is?"

"We are their natural enemy." He'd been so blasé about it that it was a wonder he hadn't added a yawn on the end.

I heard the words but they didn't register right away. "Wait. Demons are the natural enemies of vampires?" How fucking evil did vampires have to be do have a natural enemy this badass?

"Can you think of anything more powerful than they are?"

"Gods," I answered without thinking.

"The gods do not meddle in the affairs of men. We do."

The answer gave me the willies. "So how does this work? You have to follow all of my commands?"

"Any that include my name which do not involve harming myself or you. As much as I'd like my freedom, the nature of the ritual precludes violence against my summoner."

I could feel those empty eyes on me. "I didn't summon you. The witch you killed did, so technically you're wrong about that."

"I am not wrong. I had a choice of masters. I chose the one that did not want me."

My teeth set within my mouth. "Just because I didn't want you doesn't mean I'm going to set you free. I'm going to find a way to send you back."

"You are going to try," he replied blandly.

He was so certain I'd fail. He didn't know me very well. I could be resourceful when I needed to be.

My eyes crinkled upon putting a few pieces together. "So if violence against me gains you freedom why are you trying to help me? Why not just let this bitch kill me?"

"I am not freed if someone else kills you. My servitude merely shifts to them."

"Oh, lovely. No pressure to stay alive or anything," I muttered under my breath.

I truly hoped he didn't realize most anyone else in the Underground would let him get crazy with the killing. If he knew that, he'd conveniently neglect his defensive duties. Maybe it didn't matter. If I couldn't handle what I was about to do without the help of a demon then I wasn't meant to do it.

"I'm going to an Underground club where I suspect the vampire has fled," I explained to break the silence. "I only want to kill the ones who are working directly for her. So if you see any other vampires there that aren't trying to kill me, you're not allowed to hurt them, Kruzulun. Do we understand each other?"

"I understand you," he said instead of a simple yes.

I was weirded out by it because I got the feeling he wasn't limited to comprehending my present wish. Those black eyes could probably see right through into my soul. Silently I willed Kastio to do some research for me. I needed to get rid of this demon stat!

There was a parking spot not far from the warehouse that served as the Dungeon's benign front end. I maneuvered the van into place, shut the thing off and then hopped out of the vehicle with a determined scowl affixed to my face.

"You are planning to go into an Underground club nude with no weapons?" The demon drawled from his new spot leaned against the hood of the van.

My cheeks flushed when I recalled what I was wearing. I glanced down to find that the white robe's edges nearly met in front of my body but they were spread enough to give anyone nearby quite a show. No, this would not do inside the Dungeon.

"At least allow me to clothe you," he said.

My eyebrows arched at the offer. How could a demon clothe me?

When I didn't immediately reject the offer, he lifted his hand toward me. I felt the heat of flame coat me. When it had cooled the white robe was covered in a lightweight chain mail knee-length tunic with a plate metal girdle. I imagined I looked rather like an armored ghost. I couldn't help but crack a small smile.

"The sword that goes with it is even better," the demon remarked mildly.

I shook my head and heard tinkling of the chainmail that had mysteriously formed on my head. "I'm no good with weapons unless they shoot something."

"You may have use of this." He held in his hands an ornately carved recurve bow and matching quiver packed with arrows. "Unless of course you do not know how to..."

My snatching it from his hands shut him up. A bow was the first weapon I'd learned to use nine years ago when I'd been transformed into a Diakonos. It hadn't been until I'd reached my majority that I'd begun playing around with guns.

The weight of it was familiar in my hands and somehow soothing. I had no doubt I'd be just as accurate with this weapon as I was with my Kahr. Accuracy might improve my odds against foes faster than I was.

But I'd wasted enough time dallying outside. It was time to finish this.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The place was packed shoulder to shoulder with the nastiest creatures in the whole of the city. Few took note of the armored woman that had stepped within their midst and fewer saw the man-shaped demon behind her. It was a wonder to me that no one recognized the evilest of evils within their midst.

A thundering growl behind me snagged my attention. I glanced back to find the demon's obsidian gaze focused on something to my right. I followed it to see Aiden Bruce materializing from the crowd.

I held up a palm for the demon's benefit. Once Aiden was near enough I spoke in a voice I hoped held all of the menace within me. "If I live through this you and I are going to have a serious chat, you rat bastard."

The vampire's eyes tore themselves away from the demon long enough to fix on me. He opened his mouth to speak. I shoved myself into the crowd without another word because I didn't have time to deal with him. Unfortunately his cool hand curled around my wrist to slow me before I could move a single step.

"Go away," I hissed.

"I mean to help," Aiden replied with his lips against my ear.

I hated that the proximity sent a shiver down my spine even when I was furious with him. Because of it, I snarled out, "I've got all the help I can handle. Now go away before I tell him to kill you."

The tepid grip loosened and fell away. There was a bit of noise behind me, a snarl that might have been from Aiden and an answering rumbling noise that was most certainly from the demon. A few heads turned our way. The bastards were going to give our arrival away.

"Shut up," I ordered the one I could.

"A thousand apologies," the demon said at my back in an unapologetic tone.

I shook my head. There was no time to comment on his attitude. We were nearly to what I hoped was the entrance to the club's owner.

A pair of Rhino guards had the spot beside the darkened corridor. From what I'd seen no one had gone in or come out of it since I'd arrived. In all of the times I'd visited the club no one had ever done so. Still, this had to be the way to that bitch Linea.

"Here we go," I whispered for the demon's benefit just before pouncing between the guards. My fingernails dug into their bare arms long enough to wish them ill. The disease blackened the skin where I'd touched, already shooting upward when I continued forward in my purposeful gait.

The darkened corridor before me ended abruptly at a set of stairs that went further down into the ground. I took them two at a time, stopping only long enough to plague the set of guards at the bottom. Through a door I slammed into another hallway with yet another set of stairs and more guards. By the time I reached something that resembled a room I'd killed eight guards and traversed four sets of stairs.

However the room I'd ultimately happened upon was host to what I was going to assume were several vampires. I pulled the bow off my shoulder, set the nock of my first arrow onto the string and then aimed at the nearest creature before it could do little more than look up. My missile buried into the creature's eye for a split second before the entire head exploded in a ball of brilliant flame.

That was certainly...unexpected.

A wave of searing power slammed into the back of me as the demon let out a thunderous growl. In between setting another arrow on the string of my bow I saw leathery wings expand out beside me. Apparently he'd rid himself of his mortal disguise now that we were in battle.

The appearance of a demon gave each creature in the room pause. Wholesale panic took hold. Vampires shot into the doors all around.

"Grab one of them! I need to know where Linea is!" I called out a command.

"Where is Linea?" The demon demanded a half second later.

I turned to find him with a vampire's head inches from his mouth. Good gods, was he going to eat it? Should that really surprise me?

"Oh god! Don't kill me!" The leech squealed and flailed.

"God cannot help you," the demon replied in his bored voice. "Where is Linea?"

The vampire pointed a shaky finger at the door to my far right. Immediately I started for it with my bow aimed and ready. The screams of a half dozen vampires dying was the soundtrack to my movement. I attempted to ignore the eerie reverberation of laughter behind me and the horrible sucking noises.

Everything in the room slowed to a crawl courtesy of my early warning system. The laughter, the swinging door and even the clawed nails that slashed toward my face from the hidden body behind it were seemingly still. I lifted the arrow's tip to where the creature's heart should be beyond the door. And then I let go of the string.

When time had resumed its normal flow I heard the shrill shriek of the thing in front of me. I shoved the door in, pushing the screaming and strangely flaming vampire back. It fell onto the floor revealing it had had blonde hair, not red. With a mere grunt I stepped over it's wiggling mass to enter the room.

Linea stood at the center of what looked to be a sumptuously decorated office. Six undead minions fanned out around her large desk in protective poses. Her eyes were drawn wide, clearly surprised to see me.

"You don't want to kill me," she said. Her uneasy eye was focused on my bow. "We want the same thing."

"We both want to see you die a slow painful death?" I replied with characteristic snark.

Linea shook her long red hair. "We want what is best for this city."

"And what is best for this city?" As I spoke the question I set another arrow onto my bowstring. Briefly I glanced at the gently pulsating metal that made up the arrowhead. Apparently the demon hadn't given me normal ammunition. Just as she opened her mouth to answer I shot the missile into the vampire closest to me.

"A city built on cooperation working toward a common goal of assembling the species as they were meant to be," she said in a rising pitch.

As the vampire burst into flame I pulled another arrow from the quiver, set it against the string and then released without a drop of guilt for the life I'd just ended. These were evil creatures who subsisted on blood alone.

"Stop!" She shouted for the benefit of the vampires that had been about to jump me. Or maybe it had been an order for me. "If you join me I will give you the Prime of Massachusetts."

"You'll give him to me?" I let out a harsh laugh. "Honey, he's been trying to give himself to me for almost a decade."

Her red lips spread into a smug smile. "If that were the case then he would not have tried to kill you."

"If Gray had wanted to kill me I would be dead," I pointed out while pulling another arrow out of the quiver on my back. "But he didn't. Which is why even though you were commanding him remotely like the fucking coward you are, he didn't stab me through the heart as he'd done to every other woman in that circle. And it's why I'm standing here in front of you about to end your second life."

I was done talking to her. She was insane and a bitch, two qualities I despised in a woman. I released the string between my fingers. The arrow sailed through the air to land deep within her chest. Her eyes went wide in shock as she looked down at the protrusion in her chest.

Flames engulfed her the moment her fingers closed around the arrow's shaft. I stood still, watching her agonized screams and helpless flailing while wishing I could do more to hurt her. Some people deserved to die twice.

When she finally fell to the floor behind her desk I realized no one in the room was standing but me...and probably the demon behind me. I turned my head enough to look. Sure enough the gray skinned creature was hunched beneath the seemingly low ceiling.

"They are all dead," he told me.

"Good," I said while turning fully to face him. I meant it. These things had worked for the insane bitch. They could all turn to ash for all I cared. "That was too easy."

The demon laughed, that eerie reverberating noise that shook the floor. "You survived my summoning ritual. Most everything will be easy when compared with that."

My response was to exhale in amusement. He was probably right. I had survived that shit storm.

The demon's head whipped around just before he disappeared.

"Wait," I called after him.

"Someone is coming," he answered from within the attached room.

"Stand down," I snapped as I hurried to join him. I felt like a goober for saying it. I'd never been in the military! I covered it by adding, "And if you wouldn't mind, can you go back to looking like a person?"

This time he'd transformed into a man in a flare of flame that lasted a split second. His clothing was different now, more modern with jeans and a patterned black shirt. Though he'd maintained the bald head and features of a handsome Middle Eastern man.

There was a knock at the outer door. My eyebrow lifted at the sound. A knock? Who would knock?

Only one way to find out. "Come in," I called out.

Aiden appeared within the steadily opening doorway first. Behind him were a white-skinned man with long pale hair and a dark-skinned guy with a crew cut covering his thick head.

"They need to see the body," the vampire told me.

I didn't know what the hell he was talking about but I could guess. My hand waved toward the right room. "Behind the desk, if there's anything left to see."

The two men entered, paused to take in the mass carnage of corpses in various states of decomposition and then continued toward the office. When they emerged it was with a Zen-like expression on their faces. The pale one walked halfway to me, picking his way through the bloody corpses of the newer vampires.

I'd have called him elfin if I thought such creatures existed. He had long, fine saffron colored hair that fell to the middle of his back, slightly pointed ears, and striking features that were somehow dulled by the white of his skin. I couldn't look at him for long because he'd begun looking back. I held his powerful grass green gaze for twenty seconds until the beefier of the pair spoke, giving me an excuse to look away.

"Linea is dead," the muscular man spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. "And her entire personal retinue destroyed. Who is responsible for this?"

"She is," both the vampire in front and the demon behind said.

The elfin guy glanced between them. "Who is she?"

"The Black Death," I answered for myself.

The pair exchanged a meaningful look. It was Elfin that spoke next.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said while viewing me over an upturned nose. "I am Greonaltyn Krigub, the club's manager. I find most humans have difficulty with my name and thus go by Altyn."

Not human, my brain said. But I didn't know what he manner of creature he did claim to be.

He gestured to the meaty man behind him. "And this is J, head of security."

My eyebrow arched at the crew cut covered head behind Altyn's shoulder.

"Security for the club," Altyn said in answer to my unspoken question. "We only protect our patrons." His nose lowered. "We don't get involved in what happens past the stairs."

Could I kill them for the crime of apathy?

"You will want a tour of the place." He inhaled a heavy breath as if it would be a grand effort to show anyone around.

My eyes narrowed. "Why would I want a tour of the place?"

"Because it is now yours."

"Ah, fuck," I cursed with a squeeze of my eyes shut and an irritated lift of my head to the Domain. The Rule of Succession. Damn it. I'd forgotten all about that. I didn't want the stupid club! "No, actually, right now all I want is a shower and a good night's sleep."

"The master bedroom is through that door..."

A bedroom in the club? What the hell! Had Linea lived here?

I shook my head. "No. I'm not staying." My nose crinkled as my eyes passed over the sea of bodies littering the ground. I had to get out of here.

"Another time then," the elfin guy said with a slight incline of his head. "If you have no other need of us, we will return to our duties."

After a dismissive gesture from me, they departed the room to go back to whatever it was they did upstairs. Considering I'd never seen the two of them during my visits I was thinking they didn't do much.

Aiden shifted his weight onto one hip, drawing my attention to him.

"You," I accused in a voice that began low and ended shrill, "You knew a vampire was behind this and you never told me!"

He didn't bother to argue.

"I was right!" I could feel the blood heating within me. My heart rate had sped. I clenched my fingers tightly to keep from pulling out another arrow from the quiver at my back. "You picked me to investigate this because you thought I'd never even come close to stopping any of it!"

"No, Laura," Aiden replied gravely. "I knew you would stop it. I have every confidence in you."

"Don't do that!" I snarled and took a threatening step closer. "Don't you dare call me that! You haven't earned the right, you bastard!"

His palms went up in front of his chest in a gesture of surrender. "You are correct. I am sorry, Miss Denham."

Even being told I was correct did nothing to pacify me. I quickly found myself shouting, "I can't believe I trusted you, any of you!"

Aiden remained calm but I could see that his eyes were forming worried wrinkles around their edges. "I didn't tell you about the suspected vampire within the plot because I knew you would go straight to the rulers for information. They were looking for you, Miss Denham. If they'd found you they would have enthralled you."

"Enthralled," I repeated in a softer voice. My thoughts strayed from my anger.

Gray had been enthralled by the vampire bitch. That could have been me. How much worse would things have been if they'd gotten their hands on me?

Could I believe Aiden?

Maybe.

But he wasn't off the hook even if he'd done it as some sort of attempt at protection. "You should have told me all of it and let me make the decision."

"Perhaps," the vampire responded. "I made my choice. I must live with it now."

"Yes," I agreed stiffly, "You must. And that's why you're going to turn around and walk out of here before I shoot you with one of these flaming arrows."

Aiden's silver eyes held mine for a moment too long. His head lifted in a single nod. I watched his handsome figure turn to leave the room without a word or apology. I didn't know what I'd expected but it hadn't been that.

The carnage in the room finally got to me. I had to leave. And I had to leave alone.

"Stay here, Kruzulun." I said without looking back to see how he took the order. "And no killing anyone while I'm gone."

"As you wish, mistress," was the reply he gave just as the door closed him within.

I hurried up the stairs, past the primordial ooze that had been the Rhino guards, and through the crowded dance floor. I wouldn't think about how that was supposedly my crowded dance floor. No, now that the investigation was over I was going to do my damnedest to live an ordinary, boring life.

Driving around in chain mail probably wasn't included in the boring life plan. I tugged the thing up over my head, wincing when it snagged more than one strand of hair. After tossing it in the van, I slid into the driver's seat feeling lighter and a lot colder. The white robe did little to keep me warm.

I dashed the dial around to the heat setting after pushing the key into the van's ignition and turning it on. I would have my shower and good night's sleep but first I had a few stops to make. My fingernails were abused by a good gnawing during the quiet drive.

It took twenty minutes to find the right combination of roads and another ten before I stood in front of the salt circle in the middle of the woods. The only signs that anything had happened were the scorch mark of charred earth within and a small puddle of blood where I'd left Gray.

The fact that his death wasn't on my conscience should have made me feel better. But it didn't. I couldn't stop the images of him stabbing those women from replaying in my head. Maybe it would have been better if he'd died because he was as good as dead to me.

My Mini was still parked in his driveway when I arrived. The house was dark but I knew where he kept the key. My purse was still on the floor of the living room where it had dropped when he'd jabbed me with the syringe full of drugs days ago. I snatched it up and darted for the front door before I could find out if the house were truly empty. After locking the door behind me, I returned his spare key beneath the decorative watering can near the edge of the house.

Sliding into the seat of my own car was a good feeling. I was in control here. It was a little slice of home on wheels. These days it was the only home I had.

I flicked the side pocket on my purse open to reveal my phone. It had been switched off, no doubt to keep anyone from tracking it. While waiting at a red light I checked my messages.

The first few were from Aiden days ago. His smooth-as-butter voice slid into my ear and made my teeth cringe. He'd wanted to know where I'd gone, had apologized for whatever it was he'd done to offend me and hoped I'd at the very least return his call. By the second call he'd realized something was wrong but had been hoping he was incorrect. I took a detour from the vampire to listen to another's message, this one was from Andy about our meeting with his real estate friend. He'd taken the liberty of setting one up for me. Did I want to go to it?

Aiden's third and final call had been to leave an ominous warning to whoever had stolen me. He vowed to find them, destroy everyone they'd ever cared for and only when they were dying from the guilt of it would he give them release. I shivered at the chill in his voice. He might have truly meant it.

The final message was from just a few hours ago. It was from Morrígan. "Call me," she said simply just above a whisper.

I hit the button to do just that.

Morrígan herself answered the call. "Lore," she said in a breathier voice than usual.

"What's wrong?" I heard myself asking.

"Something happened to you."

"Yes, but I'm okay."

Morrígan inhaled in a half laugh. "You drained every Fire witch coven in the Northeast nearly to death, dearest. I should hope that you are more than okay."

My mouth dropped open. "Is anyone hurt?"

"No one is dead," she assured me. "But none of us will be doing anything strenuous for a few days. Tell me what happened."

"It is a long story and I will tell it to you sometime, but not now." I sighed because I felt awful about being such a drain. "I'm sorry about your witches."

"Do not be. It was my gift to you."

And what a gift it had turned out to be. I owed Morrígan my life. The number of people that could make that claim might soon require two hands to show.

"I have to leave for a while," I said quietly. "I'll come see you when I get back."

"Do you promise?"

She surprised me enough by not being angry and asking the almost vulnerable question that I did something I never did, "Yes, I promise."

"Good. Be safe, dearest Lore," the priestess's voice softened as she spoke the term of endearment.

I forced her out of my thoughts despite the naughty images her voice had brought out. My cheeks flushed a little when I realized I was actually looking forward to seeing her when I got back.

First things first, I was going on vacation to some place farther than upstate New York where the water was brilliant blue and it was impossibly warm. And while I was on vacation I was going to forget about everything. Because damn it, I deserved it.

Thank You

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Turn the page for the soundtrack list and a preview of book 2!

Lore 1 Soundtrack

(a.k.a. What I was listening to when I wrote this)

- The Prodigy - Firestarter

- Mesita - Crestone Funeral March

- Rob Zombie - Living Dead Girl (Subliminal Seduction Mix)

- Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Down Boy

- Maroon 5 - Secret

- Florence + The Machine - Girl With One Eye

- Florence + The Machine - Kiss With A Fist

- Florence + The Machine - Bird Song

- Reel Big Fish - She Has A Girlfriend Now

- Metric - Help I'm Alive

- Space - Female of the Species

Read on for a preview of Lore book 2

Lore vs. The Demon

The last thing I expected to see when I turned up at the Dungeon at twenty past six was an emofied vampire chained to the grungy facade. By the nasty marks on his wrists, ankles, and neck I gathered the thick chain embedded in his reddened flesh was made of silver. And whoever had trussed up the vampire knew what they were doing because in addition to the restraints, they'd nearly drained the creature to death through several holes that had yet to heal. This guy wasn't going any place without an infusion of blood.

Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to be the donor.

I stood staring at the slumped vampire, contemplating what to do apart from open up a vein. The sky was already the blue-gray color that heralded the sun would soon be making its ascent. If I didn't get him inside in the next handful of minutes he would die the final death the immortal feared so very much. But after my night from hell I didn't have a whole lot of compassion for the circulation challenged.

Chances were this guy had done something to deserve the fate that had been thrust upon him. Would it really be a bad thing if I turned around and walked away? I inhaled a long breath through my nose while considering that question.

"Damn it," I cursed aloud. It had been said for the benefit of my stupid conscience. Why couldn't I be as heartless and badass as I pretended I was?

I walked forward with the intention of finding a way to free the guy until I was distracted by a curious glint between the folds of his black silk shirt. Carefully I parted the blood-soaked fabric to get a look at what it hid. My eyebrows shot upward. Someone had nailed a sheet of metal to the vampire's chest. No, someone had spiked the sheet onto his chest using a silver railroad spike, perhaps by way of his heart.

I wasn't certain I should disturb a wound this serious. The vampire wasn't dead. Yet. But if I moved the spike in the wrong direction that could very well change.

Bending at the knees brought my head level with the metal sheet for a better look. There appeared to be words etched onto the metal's sleek surface. Using my cell phone's screen to brighten the area, I read the three lines four times before moving into action.

It took me ten minutes to fight the crush of bodies on the Dungeon's dull black dance floor to reach J at his security post near the club's iconic iron maiden. I didn't know what kind of creature J was but I thought he was probably stronger than I was. He would have to be in order to be able to hold his own against the myriad creatures that frequented Boston's only neutral Underground club.

I waved for him to follow me. The only indication that the guy recognized me was a slight lift of his bushy eyebrows. Maybe that was a typical surprised expression for him.

The crowd parted easily for the beefy head of security leading the way back up to the surface. I shuffled at his heels with my face hidden behind the curtain of my sable hair. If I could manage it I was going to keep my identity a secret for as long as possible.

With J at the helm no one dared to stop us on the way out. He had the chains off the vampire faster than I could follow and was carrying him in the entrance seconds later. Down the four flights of stairs I followed the crew cut covered head until we stood inside the sitting room of the former owner's private apartment.

The security boss carefully set the vampire on one of the three brocade couches available. Then he drew back to survey the damage. The exact moment his eyes caught sight of the note pounded into the vampire's chest was signaled by the true lifting of his eyebrows. I shoved a finger into my mouth for a good gnaw on my nail when he bent to read it aloud.

"'Let this be a warning to all those of impure creation. Your days are numbered. The world will be cleansed.'"