“One that needs an answer.” In this city, you couldn’t take risks.

But he didn’t answer and his jaw locked.

She glanced over at Jude. “Kymine gone yet?”

“Mostly.” He sniffed a bit. “He doesn’t smell like death.” A grimace. “Just some fancy ass cologne.”

Her shoulders relaxed. Not a vamp. Okay. Everything else was pretty much doable.

Chase stepped back from her and Dee dropped her hands. He slanted Jude a seriously pissed glare. “Don’t come sniffing around me again, tiger.”

Tiger? He knew about Jude?

Not a flicker of surprise crossed the shifter’s face. “You gonna piss and moan all night or are you gonna answer the lady’s question?”

What are you?

Chance stared back at her. Gazed too deeply with those smoky eyes. “I’m the man who had her back, twice, when you weren’t anywhere around.”

“Dee doesn’t need anyone to watch her. The woman’s a freaking machine—”

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“Everyone needs backup.” His fingers brushed over her cheek. Her breath caught.

“Aw, Dee…shit,” Jude muttered.

Her shoulders snapped up. She wouldn’t be weak. Not in front of Jude. He’d trained her. Walked with her on the first mission.

Not in front of him. “We had a visitor.” Now she was the one to back away. Because that soft touch wasn’t something she could handle.

Hard, wild, and rough—yeah, that was more her style.

Chase’s fingers fisted, then fell.

“And you noticed the…ah…visitor with your tongue down this guy’s—”

“I’ve got a name. It’s Simon Chase.”

“—throat?”

She stared at Jude. Long and hard and waited until his blue gaze dropped. That was better. “The visit came first. Some sweet little ball of fluff sporting bite marks on her neck.”

Jude sucked in a sharp breath. “A lure?”

“No.” Well, maybe. Vamps were known to use sexy women to draw in other prey. Worked wonders for them. Most folks were always attracted to a pretty package. You followed the package, and found hell waiting with open fangs. “She was sent to deliver a message to me.”

“Huh.”

Chase glanced between them. “Why send the woman? I mean, if you think a vampire sent her—”

She held up her unused stake. “They knew I wouldn’t hurt her.” Much.

“What did she say?” Jude asked.

Dee hesitated.

Chase didn’t. “The bitch told Dee she was going to die.”

Well, so much for subtle.

“Sonofabitch.”

That pretty much summed things up nicely.

“And you let her get away?” Jude growled. A very deep, rumbling growl. His beast had to be close.

“I got distracted.” The six foot three, two-hundred-pound distraction shifted beside her. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t count on it,” Chase murmured.

Her gaze jerked to his.

And the bastard smiled at her.

Trouble. Why, why did trouble always find her? And why did this trouble have to be so sexy?

Chapter 3

Dee awoke screaming, her skin slickened with sweat and her drumming heartbeat rattling her chest.

It took her a minute to banish the blood. To choke back the fear.

So long ago, but the dreams still came.

Dee jumped out of bed. The neon digits of her clock glowed too brightly. Four-oh-eight. She’d slept for an hour.

Shit.

Her T-shirt clung to her body, damp and too confining. Every muscle in her body quivered. Her skin burned and her belly knotted.

Damn dreams.

Why tonight? Why? It had been over three months since the last bout, and just when she’d thought she was finally mastering the demons, they’d come sneaking back.

She paced across the room. No way would she be going back to sleep. She couldn’t.

Adrenaline had her walking faster, faster.

Get out.

The apartment was too small. Too hot in the summer. Dee shoved open the balcony doors, but the air outside was even thicker, even hotter.

Her air conditioner droned with a low hum. Not doing her a damn bit of good.

Love you, Sandra Dee.

Her eyes squeezed shut. Hell, no. She wasn’t doing this. Not again.

Sirens wailed in the distance. There was always trouble somewhere in this city. Human killers. Supernatural monsters. Never any peace. Not for her, not anywhere.

No peace, but, maybe—

Maybe there was something else she could have. For just a little while.

Her eyes opened. She turned around, fumbled for the card she’d tossed on her nightstand. Her fingers trembled when she touched the edge.

The minute she’d come home, she’d balled up the card and tossed it into the garbage can.

Then she’d dug it out. Stupid. But—

But her heart wasn’t slowing down. Her skin was burning hot, and when she thought of Simon, she pictured him and stopped seeing the blood.

Dee was so tired of the blood.

A name and a number were typed in black letters across the white card. No address.

She couldn’t call him now. No way. Only one reason a woman called a man at this hour.

Yeah, one reason.

A hard breath shook her chest. Dee realized she could still taste him. Still feel the press of his lips against hers. The brush of his tongue.

He might not be alone. He probably wasn’t. A guy like him, oozing sex, he’d probably snapped his fingers and—

She put the card down. For an instant, she thought she saw red staining her fingers.

No, no, just a memory.

Wasn’t it?

Shaking her head, she walked toward the shower. A nice, cold shower, that was what she needed.

Or him.

Fuck. Dee grabbed the phone. Dialed before she could stop herself. One ring. Stupid. You can’t do this. Two. Are you crazy? You can’t. Three.

“Night Watch.” The private security line for the team. The one they called when they needed Intel, twenty-four-seven.

“Grace? It’s Dee. Did you—did you run that check for me?” Because she was a suspicious bitch, always would be.

A faint hum on the line, then…“Finished it earlier tonight. You want me to fax over the file?”

“Go ahead and give me a quick and dirty rundown.” Because she had to know, right now, before she made a deadly mistake. “And then send over the paperwork.” She’d want to know every detail later. That was her way.

“Simon Lawrence Chase.” Dee’s fingers tightened around the phone when Grace began. So she ran background checks on all her potential lovers, what was wrong with that? A woman had to be safe. These days, you never knew what you were dragging home.




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