She couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound was ugly. “Really? That’s rich coming from the man who killed my mother!”
“Jesus,” Zan said, his shocked gaze bouncing between them.
“Didn’t know your boss was a murderer? He forget to tell you guys that he had a mate he killed before he abandoned his daughter?”
Her father started to say something, but then he simply shook his head and gestured her inside the cell. “There’s a bunk with a pillow and a blanket. You’ll be given three square meals a day while you’re here. You seem to be in good physical health, but you’ll get an exam tomorrow and begin a psychological evaluation.”
The last part had her mouth dropping open. “A test to see if I’m nuts? Are you shitting me?”
“When it’s determined you’re not a danger to yourself or anyone else here, you’ll be released to join your mate. And not before.” To Zander, he said, “I’m sorry.”
He slammed the door of the cell, and it clanged with an ominous racket. Then the bastard turned and walked away. Zander’s anxious face hovered in the small window for a moment, and she barely heard him say, “I’m sorry, too.”
Then she was alone.
As calmly as possible, Nick walked to his office and closed the door. Then he skirted his desk, sat in his chair, and lowered his head into his shaking hands.
She’s here after all this time. All these years. Selene.
And my baby girl loathes me.
The heartbreak never ended. However, he’d learned one vital piece of information: as much as she might hate him, and even want him dead, his death wouldn’t come at her hands. His gift didn’t allow him to know much more than that, but from the moment she’d come racing from the trees, intent on ripping out his throat, he’d known.
Her rage might have fueled her attack, but her soul wasn’t on board. Deep down, she was still that confused, grieving young girl who’d lost both of her parents in one awful day. Her heart cried out to know why, and she deserved the truth.
But not today. She wasn’t ready to accept it. He didn’t know if she ever would be.
In the meantime, he had to stay on top of the rogue vampires. With a heavy heart, he opened his e-mail to see if Grant had sent him any more information. He scanned his in-box impatiently, then paused on one e-mail address he’d never seen before: [email protected]. Curious, he opened it and began to read.
Westfall,
I’m coming for you and yours. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, because I haven’t. No matter how long it takes, or how far I have to track you, I’ll come. And when I do, I’ll make you suffer before you die.
No name at the end, of course. He read the e-mail again, and his skin prickled. Cold enveloped his entire body, and he let out a deep breath, thinking. In more than two hundred years, he’d made a few enemies. Most of them were long dead, though not all.
Who would come after him now? Why?
Could Selene’s arrival be a coincidence? She’d obviously been in the area for a while—after all, he now realized she was the white wolf that had pushed Ryon’s mate Daria off the cliff. She might have been hanging around town doing some digging, too, and could have sent the e-mail.
That didn’t feel right, though.
The e-mail carried the distinct chill of death brushing down his neck that he’d been feeling for days. The bastard behind it was the one he had to fear, not his daughter.
A sense of foreboding in his gut warned him that this was much, much bigger than just him and his daughter. And he had to discover the truth, soon.
Picking up his cell phone, he placed a call that was past due. On the other end, the phone rang three times before a deep male voice answered.
“Mountain Lodge. How may I direct your call?”
Nick almost smiled. The cover wasn’t very original, but it was effective in screening wrong numbers and those who might snoop. “This is Nick Westfall, commander of the Alpha Pack in Wyoming. I’m calling to speak with Prince Tarron Romanoff.”
A pause. “How did you get this number?”
“Through our mutual friend Grant.”
“I see. What type of group is your Alpha Pack?”
“Shifters. We combat all sorts of creatures the world is better off not knowing about, if you get my drift.”
The man laughed. “Sure. This is your personal number, Mr. Westfall?”
“It is.”
“Very good. The prince will phone you back shortly.”
After I’ve been checked out, no doubt.
“That’s fine.”
He hung up, settling in to wait, and started playing a new game on his phone. Damn time-wasting crap, but he was as hooked as everyone else. Fortunately, the phone rang, saving him from turning his brain to mush. A glance confirmed it was a different number, but the same area code. Probably the prince’s personal phone.
“Westfall.”
“Hello, Mr. Westfall, this is Tarron Romanoff, of the North American coven,” he said pleasantly. His voice was smooth and warm. Genuine. “Grant had told me you would likely contact me about a certain problem, but I had to be sure your number checked out via a trace. You understand.”
“Of course. In our worlds, we can never be too careful.”
“True. So, what’s this problem you were referring to? Grant simply said he would let you explain.”
He got right to the point. “Have you or your coven members noticed a surge in the numbers of rogue vampires?”
“Not really,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “But we’re pretty isolated here in the Smoky Mountains. Care to fill me in?”
“We’ve had attacks cropping up around the country, and the number and frequency of them are becoming alarming. Not to mention a special ability they seem to have developed—they’re now able to attack during the day.”
“The hell you say.” The prince blew out a breath. “How?”
“I don’t know, but I think our two groups need to meet in person. What affects my team and the human population will eventually get to your coven. If we work together, we might be able to stop this thing before it reaches the point of no return.”
“Agreed. I’ll meet with my men and call you back with some possible dates. Will that work?”
“Yes, and thank you.”
“No need to thank me. A problem with rogues affects all of us. Talk to you soon.”
After they ended the call, Nick sat with his elbows on his desk, lost in thought. Maybe they could find the answer to the rogue issue together, before it was too late.
Before he could fret on the matter further, a familiar buzz started in his head. His skin prickled and his eyesight dimmed, the hallmark of a coming vision.
In the mist, there stood a figure. Draped in darkness, it moved toward him with grace, and surprisingly, he got no sense of fear. No death.
The figure remained shrouded, but the form was slight. A female. She beckoned to him, and where he might have felt trepidation . . .
Joy. There was nothing but pure joy at her presence, and his heart picked up speed, pounding in excitement. He opened his mouth to ask her name, why she was there—
And he was jolted back to reality with sudden force.
“Who are you?” he whispered, sitting back in his chair.
He hoped and prayed he lived long enough to learn the answer.
Selene sat on her bunk with her back against the wall, arms encircling her drawn-up knees. If someone didn’t come soon, she was going to lose her freaking mind.
No TV, no books, no window to see outside. Not even the tick of a clock. Nothing to do but watch the four walls and listen to the disturbing noises coming from another cell along the corridor.
All night, she’d heard growling, snarling, and terrible howling. All coming from a single creature nearby. Her nose scented another wolf shifter, and she wondered what he’d done to deserve the maddening boredom of this prison.
“Hey!” she called. “Is anybody there? Can you hear me?”
The howling stopped, but only for a few moments. Soon it started up again, and she banged the back of her head against the steel panel in frustration.
A flash of blue light startled her, and she bolted upright on her bunk, pulse tripping. When the light faded, a man was standing inside the cell near the door.
A man who looked like a rock star. He had artfully mussed, layered hair that fell to his shoulders and wore black guyliner, which set off amazing green eyes. He was dressed all in black, from his T-shirt to a leather duster that fell to his ankles, to the shitkickers on his feet. Even his fingernails were like polished onyx.
He looked young, perhaps early twenties—but his eyes were ancient.
She hid a shiver. Masking the hammering of her heart, she fixed a look of amusement on her face. “If you’re looking for the Mötley Crüe audition, you’re in the wrong state altogether.”
One corner of his lush mouth turned up. “Really? Damn. Guess I’ll just have to stay here and fight vampires.”
She frowned. “Vampires?”
“Long story.”
“It seems I have time.”
He shrugged. “We’re having a bit of a rogue problem lately. The assholes are springing up everywhere in the country when there shouldn’t be that many.”
“I’ve not seen any rogues where I’m from.”
“Good to know.”
She studied him, inhaled a whiff. “You’re not a wolf.”
“Panther. I’m also a Sorcerer and a Necromancer.”
She stared at him, fascinated in spite of herself. “I’ve never met any one of those things, much less all three.”
“Well, ain’t it your lucky day?” He winked.
“Believe me, this day has nowhere to go but up.” She paused, deciding she was starting to like this man. “I’m Selene Westfall.”
“Nick’s daughter. Yeah, word got around.”
“I can imagine.”
“I’m Kalen Black.”
“What are you doing here, Kalen, besides checking out the new resident of Block R?”
“The medical team is on their way down to fetch you for some testing. I’m here to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“As insurance.”
“You could say that.”
“Why would they send you and not Zander? I assume you heard about our mating, too.”
He snorted. “Who hasn’t? You sure know how to make a grand entrance. Good job.”
“Funny.” She shot him a sour look.
“I thought so.” Pushing away from the wall, he stepped right up to her bunk, his expression growing serious. “To answer your question, Zan’s been ordered to stay away for now. We may have to do something he doesn’t like—say, restrain you—and the instinct to protect his mate could take over. This is an unstable time for both of you, especially given the way your bonding went down and the fact that your wolves are probably crawling out of your skins with the need to get to each other.”
That was true, unfortunately, and she flushed just thinking about how badly she wanted the black wolf. “Good point.”
“And because my mate is one of the doctors, I’m here specifically to protect her from you. If you even think of hurting her, or anyone else, I’ll turn you into a slug and get out my salt shaker.” The wicked gleam in his eyes told her the man wasn’t kidding.
Before she could reassure him that her problem was only with Nick, voices and footsteps approached from down the hallway. Kalen moved off to the side as two female doctors wearing lab coats and a male nurse wearing SpongeBob scrubs stepped inside. He didn’t go far, though. When the Sorcerer kissed a pretty woman with curly brunette hair and then hovered close, Selene saw why.