Dark Moon

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Pink Petal Books Pink Petal Books, an imprint of Jupiter Gardens Press, publishes romance novels where the relationship is primary. It doesn’t matter if you want to read super erotic or sweet inspirational books. Pink Petal Books believes that love is a beautiful thing, no matter what form it takes. For more information about Pink Petal Books visit http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/.

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DARK MOON ISBN# 9780982678404 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Copyright © CONNIE WOOD, 2010 Cover Art ® 2010 by VALERIE TIBBS Edited by MARY ANN HAVERLACK Electronic Publication Date: March 2010 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Jupiter Gardens Press, Jupiter Gardens, LLC., PO Box 191, Grimes, IA 50111 For more information to learn to more about this, or any other author’s work, please visit http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/

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Other Books From This Author The Veteran Forthcoming Books Dark Ice

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Dark Moon Connie Wood

PPB

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Chapter One Tynan pounded through the ravine, his thick leather boots sinking deep into the snow forcing the hard white ice to disappear below his feet. Cursing, he trudged onward. Every well honed muscle in his body screamed with intensity as the combination of cold and exertion started to take its toll. He’d tracked the bear through sparse civilization and out into the wilds of the Arctic since before the sun rose. Now, the evening sun hung low over the fields of ice, lengthening the shadows across the valley, plunging sections of the gorge into freezing darkness. He stepped up into the searing white light that reflected with tinges of blue off the huge icebergs surrounding the crevice he walked through and tugged his sun visor down. A shiver of icy dread slipped down his spine as he moved farther out into the open. There was no place to hide as the bitter icy wind hit him with force and screamed through his ears. He strained for any sound that would let him know he was on the right track. Nothing registered in his brain except the freezing cold, which raged through his body. He scanned the majestic scenery with an empty numbness that rivaled his cold numb body. He had crossed this way so many times before that the beautiful landscape lost most of its magical luster. He was almost blasé about the exquisite land. But he didn't think he would ever get used to the bitingly tedious cold, it had long since frozen his body and reached to the very core of his tainted soul. When he had first arrived here, the endless ice fields seemed like a winter wonderland of solitude and peace. Until he had found out how quick the pure white, innocent snow could turn red with blood. He ground his teeth, sending an intense shooting pain through his hard-set jaw, determined to see this mission through. He moved toward a long deep crevasse, its tall walls of shimmering bluish ice engulfed him and plunged him into the rapidly descending darkness. He grinned and immediately wished he hadn’t as his frostbitten lips cracked and split opened. Squinting in the darkness, he flipped up his visor. Huge deep paw prints marred the fresh snow on the ground. One good thing about tracking a bear, they had no way of masking their tracks. Polar bears were a lot easier than some other types of shape shifters he hunted who were ruthless and deceptive. With a were-bear, you knew where you stood. It was a fair fight, no treachery or stabbing you in the back. No conniving and plotting when they were human, only to have them set you up and try to rip your throat out when they transformed back into an animal. No, a shape shifting polar bear could easily rip your throat out with a single swipe of its gigantic paw. But at least it would be a stand up fight and you’d be face to face with your attacker when you went to meet your maker. The shape shifters had walked the earth hunting their pray since the dawn of time and over the millennia their strength and number increased to almost plague proportions. Their legend weaved its way into the nightmares of humans, becoming the shape shifters of man’s earliest myths. The most famous myths revolved around the were-wolves for good reason. Deadly and vicious, the wolves assimilated into human society and fed with unabated abandon. They were the stuff of nightmares. As soon as men conquered the skill of writing, they recorded the horror of humans who transformed into deadly creatures. The shifters were recorded in the annals of time as 5

Versipellis—those who shift their skin. It was easier for the modern world to believe them to be legend, since they were unable to comprehend the truth that nature doesn’t change, even when the physical world and technology do. The shape shifter still walked among them, tearing and ripping through their numbers as if culling the human population. The only thing that kept their population and their mayhem in check was the venators, the hunters of the Versipellis. Tynan had battled the shifters for more years than he cared to remember. He’d been initiated as a venator when he was young and impressionable, now he was as hard as the ice fields surrounding him. The violence and bloodshed had taken its toll, but he continued to hunt the shifters with his unparalleled ability and the few powers the venators possessed. He’d developed and honed his skills over the years but his powers gave him the edge in fighting and staying alive against such powerful adversaries. He was human but different as well, his strength and agility were on par with the creatures he fought. As a venator his wounds healed quickly, his body perfection and his mind was sharper, clearer than when he was human. The blood running through his veins had a magic, a power he didn’t comprehend but it heightened his emotions and senses. Then he heard it, the hard crunch of snow underfoot. He jolted, twisting toward the sound, straining to hear it clearly through the howling wind. Tynan slid the long sharp stiletto out from the seam of his silver fox skinned sheath and hoped that this time the cold hard steel wouldn’t freeze solid to the palm of his hand. He gripped the steel and winced as it burned into his skin. Damn the bear for leading him into a chase when he was ill equipped for it. He’d long since stopped cursing the fact he was forced to leave his snow suit at the town’s only restaurant. It’d been a long time since he’d seen the polar bear shifter, the look of blood lust in his eyes, in the crowded restaurant. The bear had acknowledged Tynan’s presence then quickly charmed a woman and led her outside. Tynan followed quickly behind to thankfully find the woman unharmed and the man having shifted, the white silhouette of the huge beast running toward the open ice fields. He looked down in the snow at the human footprints that stopped abruptly and were replaced by those of the bear. The shifters left no sign of their human existence when they changed. They transformed in the blink of an eye. Theirs was a magic he never understood. Instantaneously a man changed into a beast and then back again, fully clothed, to walk unnoticed among society. Tynan shivered and his thigh muscles contracted, the denim jeans barely keeping him warm. He wouldn’t suffer from frostbite. The power of his venator blood would see to that. But the pain of the cold was still there and he was thankful he had the presence of mind to grab his jacket off the back of his chair before leaving the restaurant. A single fleck of dry snow landed against the numbness of his bare cheek, only to be followed by a multitude of flakes as a blizzard began to set in. “Damn bear, why did you have to pick now to play hide and seek? Why couldn’t you hibernate for the winter?” A deep growl vibrated through the snow, the sound intensified by the cavernous echo of the ice walls. Every muscle tensed, as hard as the steel he gripped in his hand. Polar bears were white for a reason, and their shape shifter cousins were exactly the same—completely

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camouflaged except for their tell-tale face. He squinted through the white haze of snow, trying to make out an outline. Hard black eyes studied him from a distance. Tynan stiffened and planted his feet as secure as he could in the snow. The bear edged forward and reared onto its hind legs, and despite the cold, beads of sweat surfaced against Tynan’s brow and instantly froze against his face. His heart beat furiously as his senses went into overdrive. Pure muscle and fur towered over him. He'd met many shape shifter animals in combat, but he held a special respect for ursine strength and agility. The bear swiped at him with its powerful paw and Tynan twisted, trying to keep his balance in the nearly knee deep snow. The bear swiped again, this time the edge of his claws barely nicked Tynan’s face. There was no doubt that the shifter was playing with him and Tynan extended the stiletto, now achingly adhered to his calloused hand. He brought up an arm and blocked the bear’s blow. Pain raced down his arm and he stiffened before taking a step forward. The bear snarled in warning. Tynan bunched his muscles ready to strike. Against other humans, his venator blood offered an advantage, but he was nowhere near as strong as the bear. His muscles burned with fire as he gathered his strength. Plunging upward with all of his might he drove the stiletto deep into the bear’s fur until he hit the resistance of flesh. He pushed up harder until the stiletto slid into the creature's solid arm muscle. The bear howled in agony and reared up to its full massive height before coming down with its front paws, intent on crushing Tynan with its huge weight. Tynan rolled across the ice, soaking his jeans and jacket, freezing him to the core. Still, the adrenaline coursing through his veins warmed his blood. Ice and snow showered everywhere as the bear landed on the ground, inches from his side. Tynan rolled and jumped to his feet to face the bear. Dark red blood stained pure white fur across the front of his paw, where Tynan’s stiletto met its mark. Anger blazed deep in the bear’s black eyes. The heat of his body melted the ice that encrusted his clothes and the cold wetness seeped through Tynan's back burning him like cold fire. The wall of ice at his back trapped him as the bear stepped closer. He planted his feet firmly into the ground, readying himself. His muscles tensed, his only weapon seemed futile against the nine hundred pound animal in front of him. I need you, brother. The unexpected voice reverberated through Tynan’s head. He blinked. Distracted, he turned and lowered his weapon a fraction. Raw agony swept through his chest as he hissed in pain, his knees buckling. He locked his legs in an attempt to stay upright and he glanced downward. Four deep slashes had laid his jacket open, the deep gashes allowing him to catch a glimpse of the injury across his chest. Blood pumped from the wounds and he slid down the ice wall to the cold ground. Instantly his blood pooled crimson on the hard snow, until it seeped into the white ice, turning it garish pink. The bear above him growled with low menace. Tynan braced himself and waited for the final death blow but it never came. The bear growled again before turning on all fours before stalking away, retracing its own steps through the deep crevasses. 7

Tynan cursed. Rory, his brother-in-arms, had the worst timing in history. His call for help had nearly cost Tynan his life. The pungent acidic scent of fresh blood filled the air. He looked at his chest and lifted a hand to inspect the damage. Nearly-frozen fingers found raw, deep wounds, his matted flesh already feeling cold even to his own touch. He had to get out of here if he were to heal. It was a damn good thing he was a member of the ancient organization Venatoris Versipellis. They were given the powers to heal. Fortunately as a “hunter of the shape shifters” he couldn’t freeze to death either. But if he didn’t get up soon it would be a mighty uncomfortable way to slowly bleed to death. With bloodied fingers he pried the stiletto from his hand. The skin ripped from his palm. He clamped his jaw shut tight to stop himself from bellowing out. He took off his shredded jacket and pressed it against his chest. Fingers numb and fumbling, he unbuckled his belt and tied it around the jacket and his chest. At least it would stem some of the blood flow until he got back home. He shivered involuntarily and took a deep breath, the crisp air nearly burning his nostrils as he struggled to his knees. A reddish pink pool stained the snow around him, if he didn’t get out of here soon, he would be attracting wild animals from far and wide. It would make no difference if they were natural animals or the Versipellis, the were-animals. Tynan got to his feet and stood stock still, waiting to get his balance. Warm blood dripped from his chest, trickling down the hard ridges of his stomach before leaching into his jeans. He shivered then turned to retrace his own steps back to civilization and home. This far into the wilds of Arctic Alaska, it was a fight for survival. And he had every intention of surviving another day in the ice caps of hell. ~* * *~ Dane careened across the white expanse of the snow fields. The wind rushed through his thick fur, chilling his skin below. The hard snow crunched under every foot fall and he stretched his muscles and pushed himself to go harder. He was free, invigorated despite the confrontation with the hunter. He winced, as well as he could when in bear form. The gash from Tynan’s stiletto pulled at his paw. When he transformed back to a human, the wound would give him trouble. He had to make it back to his den and bide his time until night time hit. He could shift whenever he willed, but after such a long trek and a wound that needed tending it’d be best to wait until nightfall. It wouldn’t be long, though darkness would settle over the fields long before true night arrived. It was always that way at this time of year when the nights grew longer and darker, the days shorter. He increased his stride, extending his muscles as his heart pounded harder, pushing him farther and faster. His den was close. Soon he would be in relative safety. Tynan could still track him there, but the venator was injured. He would go home and lick his wounds, just as Dane was about to do. And when they were both healed, the game would begin again. He found it odd that the man only hunted the shape shifters when they held animal form and not when they were human. Most of the venators hunted their enemies 8

relentlessly. Dane always believed Tynan found it unsporting to hunt them in human form. It was one of the reasons he liked the venator. He gave them a sporting chance, whatever sort of shifter you were. Except if you broke the rules. Then you were fair game for the masses. And if Tynan came after you, then you’d better find religion pretty fast and say your prayers. The man was deadlier than most shifter’s Dane had met. He slowed his pace, relishing the intense beating of his heart, the strong contractions of his muscles as they urged him on. He approached his den, but didn’t go in. Instead he paced across the opening while the adrenaline of the fight and journey back home beat through his veins. He watched the sun as it lowered across the vast expanse of snowy white fields, turning them a deep orange and red. It made him hunger for blood, made him want to kill. It was his nature. But this yearning was different. He felt it edging its way through his body and into his soul. The Dark Moon called to him. For twenty-four hours the moon would rein supreme and his brethren—shifters of all kind—would go on hunting sprees. And its time was nearly here. He could feel it, although this year it called differently. The Dark Moon filled his blood with feral need. But it also called him into the city, called him to a place with more prey. Something called him. Or someone. It was deeper and louder, incessant in his brain, screaming at his instincts. It wanted him to give into those deadly urges. To hunt. To kill.

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Chapter Two Tynan punched the generator and it finally kicked into gear. The roar of the engine was near deafening after the continual silence of the journey home. Snow had pummeled his raw skin, so numb now he couldn’t even feel it. At least his wounds would be clean and near frozen. He didn’t relish the idea of having to thaw out. It was going to hurt like hell. Damn, the wooden door to his cabin had frozen shut again. Cursing, his fingers flexed painfully as he pried it away from the door frame, splinters slicing through the swollen reddened flesh of his palms. He flipped on the light switch. He knew he should save what fuel he had left and use the generator only for the heat. But he needed the light if he was going to stitch up his wounds. Light flooded the log cabin and he squinted at the harshness. Nothing in the cabin spoke of warmth or comfort. Only the minimum necessities adorned the room. There was a bed which was barely big enough for him to stretch out on, a blackened woodstove that had seen better days and a heavy porcelain sink that made up his kitchenette. A few makeshift cupboards against the remaining walls held his meager possessions. He didn’t own a lot, but then when you lived out in the coldest recesses of the Arctic, you didn’t really need a great deal. Pure survival and seeing to his job took up most of his time. He moved to the single bed and eased himself onto the hard worn mattress. He was exhausted, more than physically. It was bone deep, crushing his body and depressing his soul. He was tired of living this existence, the same thing day in and day out. The loneliness that he usually refused to acknowledge surfaced. Thoughts from the recesses of his dark mind that this was all he had to look forward to for all eternity niggled at him more often these days. Sighing in resignation, pain shot through him and he caught his breath, reminded of what he needed to do. With numb unsteady fingers he reached up to his chest and unhinged the belt, the pressure released and he stiffened his spine against the pain. The impromptu pressure bandage made from his jacket had frozen solid against his matted chest. It would have to be thawed before being removed. Grimacing, he stood and flipped the switch for the heating system. It groaned into life and would warm the cabin to a bearable temperature, but nothing too comfortable. The fuel supply was dwindling fast and it would be a while before he was in shape to go into the nearest settlement and fetch more. He headed for the small door off the kitchenette and hoped the water hadn’t frozen solid. There would be no warmth in it but he knew from past experience that he didn’t want to step straight into a hot shower after a day’s sightseeing in the snow. The pain it would cause was excruciating, the sensation of heat on freezing skin burned into every cell in your body, never to be forgotten, or repeated. He tested the pipes and they screamed in protest but finally a cold jet of water streamed from the shower. Thick leather boots were a sodden mess against his frostbitten feet. Tynan eased them off and tossed them into the corner. He peeled his jeans downward over his hard thighs and kicked them into the corner. He reached once again to the matted mess of fabric and flesh at his chest, hopeful it would have thawed enough to pry it from his skin. No such luck.

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Gritting his teeth he stepped into the shower, the cold stone recess sending icy shards of pain through his feet up his legs. Every muscle contracted in protest. Jets of cold water seared his chilled skin. His shirt clung to his back, the muscles rippling in complaint. He moved and allowed the water to cascade over his chest. He hissed in protest. Water mingled with frozen blood and flesh and his torn and tattered jacket finally thawed and fell with a hard thump to the floor. Slowly the water turned warmer, defrosting his skin, allowing the full extent of the pain to reach him. He closed his eyes and blocked out the agony. He would heal. His kind always did. He was human, but different. Part of this world and yet separate from it too. He lived in a world of limbo, on the outer edges of humanity, where dark things ran rampart and nightmares were reality. He’d been chosen as a hunter, initiated into the brotherhood of hunters, the Venatoris Versipellis. There was a magic in their world unknown to Tynan and he didn’t know how it worked but it did. He didn’t understand the magic that made him a venator, but just as he never questioned the beating of a heart, he never questioned the different life blood that now flowed through is veins. The brotherhood guarded their magic and their secrets well. Both Tynan and his lifelong friend, Rory, were initiated at the same time. The initiation was brutal and excruciating but years ago they had been idealistic and believed in fighting evil. Their initiate, a father of sorts, had trained them well and from their meager beginnings of lowly peasant boys they now felt the magic flow through their veins. Together, he and his newfound brother set about their new life with vigor. But over time the violence and hatred hardened his heart to all those who were not his family. That was when the lines of good and evil blurred the steadfast vision of the world he had held since the dawn of his rebirth. Now he was in exile, forced to reside in the hellish coldness, instinct making him hunt his prey, a bear he wasn’t sure was on the side of good or evil. For hundreds of years he followed their rules, hunted the damned and in the end he’d been damned for it himself. But at least his powers were intact, his ability to heal still present. It would have been impossible to survive in this climate had he not been granted that perk. Only one set of scars marred his perfect body. And they were psychological scars. The internal agony they inflicted forced them never to heal properly. Hot pain coursed through him. Those scars now sat underneath his newly acquired bloody wounds. The fresh lesion would heal and by tomorrow he would be physically perfect. The old wounds were another story. The scars of the past would once again magically appear to torment him and remind him why he was banished to the icy fields of Alaska in the first place. He stripped off his wet shirt and dropped it on the floor with the remains of his jacket and allowed the lukewarm water to cascade over his body. He leaned his forehead against the cool wall of the shower and closed his eyes. How he yearned for the guilty pleasures of a scalding hot shower, to let the heat of the water soak through his tired muscles to warm him to the bone. But after what seemed like countless years in the cold, he wondered if he would ever get truly warm again. The wound across his chest began to thaw and fresh blood mixed with the water to disappear down the drain. That was all he needed. Now he could stitch it up and wait for it to heal. He twisted off the taps and reached for the towel rack. The threadbare towel sat cold and stiff around the bar. He pried it off and scrunched it in his hands to soften the fabric 11

before attempting to dry himself. He wrapped it around his lean hips, more out of habit then modesty, and reached for the medicine cabinet. The surgical kit was well used but well stocked. He pulled out the needle and thread and slammed the cabinet door shut. Adrenaline at the anticipation of the pain started to ease through his body and he cursed himself for his weakness. No matter how many times he did this it was always the same. He should be used to it by now, but he lived on his senses and now he couldn’t rein them in even if he tried. He took a deep breath and stood before the mirror and grimaced. The bear certainly made a mess of him. Tynan spread his legs in a typical warrior’s stance in an attempt to keep himself upright. His fingers folded the ragged flesh over the open wounds and readied the needle. He made the first stitch and hissed through clenched teeth. Blackness threatened at the edges of his mind. He blinked and focused on his image in the mirror, though he avoided his own eyes. He always did. A person’s eyes were the window to their soul and his soul was hardened by centuries of fighting the creatures that lived in the darkness. His soul charred by his own deeds. Focusing on his chest he continued stitching, concentrating on his breathing shallow and slow, forcing his heart rate to slow the pounding of blood through his veins. The stitching complete, he focused his blurred vision once again to his chest. In no way was the stitching perfect, it wasn’t even good quality. But it didn’t matter. He would heal no matter what. But he’d seen what happened to those who didn’t at least tend to their wounds. They festered and it slowed them down. Then again, they could have been festering from the inside out. That he could relate to. He tossed the needle aside and grasped the edge of the sink. He needed to sleep and to heal. A warm meal, a bed and some comfort. He snorted; an eternity had passed since he had the luxury of any of those things. And today would be no different. He shook his head and concentrated. His brother needed him. Rory called out for his help and that was more important than anything else. Venators had the ability to communicate telepathically with other hunters. It was their only means of communication in the times before modern telecommunication. In fact, this far out in the wilderness, it still came in handy. Tynan had been shunned by most of the brotherhood, so he cut them off. Most were unable to communicate with him anymore, not that any of them would want to. He was a pariah to all. Except for Rory. And the other voice that still managed to penetrate his defenses. The one that reminded him of his past evil deeds. Grimacing, he sat on the edge of the bed and pushed the memories into the dark recesses of his mind where they belonged. Subtle warmth etched its way through the room as the heater began to work. It warmed him and he fought the urge to lie down and let sleep overtake him. He reached out and took his cell phone from the bedside table, not wanting to waste the energy on contacting Rory telepathically. He punched in the numbers he knew off by heart. “Rory, brother, you have bad timing. Your call nearly got my head ripped off by a bear.” His voice scratched his throat, sounding raw from lack of use, even to him. 12

“Sorry, are you okay?” Rory asked, concern evident in his voice. “Yeah, I’ll live.” “Don’t we always?” There was a silent pause. “Listen, I need your help. I’ve found out something you need to know.” Tynan shifted uncomfortably. A shiver of anticipation ran the length of his spine at Rory’s ominous words. The hairs at his nape shot up as dread slid over his skin. “What’s up, brother?” “It’s about—” A deafening crash echoed over the phone, the sound similar to that of a building being torn apart. Tynan heard Rory’s startled yet accepting voice. “I didn’t think you would come and do your own dirty work.” Tynan gripped the phone, its edges biting into his red raw palms. “Rory?” He yelled into the phone. He heard a dull thump and assumed Rory’s phone had hit the floor. A deep animalistic growl echoed through the line, accompanied by the unmistakable hiss of a blade being unsheathed. The hammering of flesh on flesh hit his ears. He could hear a voice low, guttural and somehow vaguely familiar, goading and mocking between the sounds of battle. “You’re losing your touch old man. You should have stayed hidden in the dark you lying bastard,” Rory said. A ferocious howl penetrated the sounds of the battle and Rory laughed. “What, you can’t take me down any other way?” Rory grunted and bellowed. In his mind’s eye, Tynan saw Rory plummet to the ground. Blood, pain and agony overwhelmed his senses and Tynan slammed his eyes shut as nausea ripped through his stomach. He was conscious of sitting on his bed, being present in his body and at the same time his brother’s pain tore through him as if it was his own. A tidal wave of sensation rushed him as he saw Rory writhing in agony as an expanding pool of his own blood stained the plush beige carpet and spread across the floor. Tynan fought to focus, attempting to transfer what little strength he had left to his brother. He saw Rory jerk, all the muscles through his well honed body constricting as raw power surged through him. It wasn’t enough. A ghost of a smile played across his friend’s face before Rory’s voice spoke deep within Tynan’s mind. “Thank you, brother. Take care of yourself and watch your back.” Tynan heard his friend’s gurgling laugh. “We had some good times. Avenge me, Tynan.” Tynan’s chest constricted, squeezing the very air from his lungs at the same moment Rory’s was leaving his own body. His friend was dead; he knew it. The part in his psyche where he was forever linked to his brother filled with a blackened void. He clenched the phone to his ear in a death grip, black rage now mixed with raw harsh grief. Slow deep breathing met his ears and Tynan pushed with the remainder of his power, trying to use the 13

connection to see Rory’s killer. Nothing but a malicious darkness tormented his vision before the killer broke the connection, leaving the deadly silence screaming in his ear. Tynan crushed the phone. It shattered into a thousand pieces. Rory was dead. He threw his head back, the thick cords of his neck stretched to breaking point and roared with furious rage. His oldest confidant was gone. The only one who believed in him and stood by him when everyone else shunned him and called for his blood. Hot bile twisted in his stomach and he tried to swallow the fury rising within him. But he wanted to let his rage engulf him and feed off its power. There was no way he wanted his real feelings to take hold; the grief was too much to handle. It’d make him weak and he wouldn’t surrender to his emotions. He would do as he was taught, hold onto the anger, and use it to gain strength from its power. He stood up, ripped the towel from his waist and headed toward the small wooden wardrobe next to the bed. He dressed quickly, flipped off the switch for the heater and grabbed his pre-packed survival bag. Switching off the lights, Tynan stepped outside into the encroaching darkness, closing the door out of habit. The generator spluttered and died as he kicked it off as he walked away. He didn’t bother to look back at the wooden cabin he’d built with his own hands. It had been his sanctuary for more years than he could count. Revenge for Rory was the only thing that played upon his mind. Rage and devastation battled within him. He was going to find who killed his brother. Then he would make them pay. With blood.

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Chapter Three Ice crackled against the pavement and Moon narrowed her gaze, concentrating on her footfalls in the dark. The noise of splitting ice made her turn her head sharply, her heart beating erratically at the sound. She squinted into the shadows and tried to focus on anything out of the ordinary. Anything that looked ominous. Not a soul moved in the darkness and she snorted in self derision, pulling the collar of her cloak tighter around her neck in an unconscious, protective gesture. The purple hazed sky was shrouded in early evening, but the darkness sat heavily, almost repressively against the city. She sighed and continued down the deserted street. It wasn’t only the dark oppressiveness of the city that made her jumpy—it was the equally sinister feeling seeping into her heart. She was usually vivacious and spontaneous. But today was different. The shadows of another vicious murder sat deep within her. Moon blinked away a tear at the fresh memory of the latest murder. It didn’t surprise her that the spate of grisly carnage coincided with the deepest part of winter. Everyone always seemed to go a little more insane as the days got shorter and the nights longer. Wintertime in this part of the world held a meaning all its own. Long, dark winters seemed to go on forever, but eventually the days lengthened and the sun always shined in the sky. During the summer days, the town was magical. But now, winter held its dark grip over the entire town. And soon they all would experience a whole day without the sun. That’s when the loons really did come out to play. Most thought she stood amongst them, what with her purple hair and tattoos and a carefree attitude. If they knew the truth, they would be even more horrified. Moon was purebred stock with an upper class family and connections that most people would envy. Her lighthearted lifestyle had been hard won. It was the reason she was out alone in the encroaching night, her job kept her late, and even though she was scared, she wouldn’t cower and stop her life because there was some madman lurking in the shadows. But she was still prudent to make it home before dark. She stepped into the soft glow of the streetlight as she arrived at the door of her apartment building, her purple-gloved fingers quickly punching in the security access code. She squinted at the contrasting, overly-bright lights glaring in the foyer. Warmth hit her as she stepped inside and she sighed gratefully. She ripped the soft wool hat off her head and tousled her short cropped hair. Taking a step forward she halted, her brow creased in confusion. The absence of a sound, so familiar that you didn’t realize its presence until it wasn’t there, rang in her ears. The door didn’t click shut after her and she stiffened her spine and did her best to ignore the chill running up it. An unnaturally cold breeze swept through the foyer, keeping the door from shutting. Crisp dead leaves blew in from the street and twisted in a whirlwind around her feet. She turned to pull the door shut and tried to ignore the unusually rapid beating of her heart. She was scared. The latest and most gruesome murder had her more spooked than ever because she actually knew the victim. Hot tears appeared and fresh sadness settled in her stomach. Rory had been down at the youth center teaching the kids self defense just hours before he died. He was skilled and 15

awesome to watch as he parried and spared with the youth. Obviously, his knowledge wasn’t enough to keep him alive. And that scared Moon the most. If he was killed so brutally with all the skill he possessed, what chance did the rest of them have? Moon had been impressed with how he always made time for the youth center, twice a week without exception. In her two years as coordinator, he had never missed a week. Large anonymous donations appeared twice a year and she always had a sneaky suspicion that Rory was behind them. She asked him once and though he didn’t deny it, he never admitted it either. Now there would be no more of his laughter, no more time spent chatting with him, no more turning to him for advice. Pain constricted her chest at the thought. A cold hand grabbed her arm. A chill went straight through her body and stabbed at her soul and Moon screamed. “Calm down, it’s me,” a voice as chilled as the hand bit out. “Sebastian.” She ripped her arm from his grasp, repulsion suddenly overriding her fear. “What are you doing here?” “Trying to talk some sense into you. Come home. Come back to your real life.” Irritation gnawed at her. She was sure it would be evident in her voice. “I am home and this is my real life.” “Real?” he snarled, flicking a finger near her ear. “Dying your hair ridiculous colors and doing graffiti for a job is not real life.” “Yeah? Well, it’s my life and I’ll live it the way I want to. I’m not letting you dictate to me anymore,” she said firmly. For an instant his hazel eyes flashed crimson, the look on his face bordered on feral, and Moon baulked. It had been expected that she marry Sebastian, settle into a quiet life and be the perfect wife and hostess. A single month had passed since she broke it off with him, bought her own flat and seized her independence with both hands. He had always resented the two things that meant the world to her; the youth club and her art. This past month of him not offering her dictates felt like heaven and she was hard pressed to realize what she ever saw in him. He was still as handsome as ever, tall and dark, an aura of sexuality surrounding him, one that made every female within his orbit turn and take notice. But there was nothing of substance behind the good looking façade. A woman couldn’t be free with him, couldn’t be herself. Now that Moon had been given a taste of freedom she intended to hold onto it with both hands. “Just go, Sebastian. There’s nothing left to say.” He quickly replaced the snarl with his most charming smile. It chilled her to the bone. “There’s plenty left to say.” Hard fingers bit into her jaw as he forced her gaze to his. “Plenty to say. And do.” She yanked her chin from his grasp and took a step back. He tensed, giving her the impression of an animal about to pounce. Sebastian glared at her and she swallowed her fear, unwilling to allow him to see he was getting to her. He grunted, turned and when he left, the temperature in the foyer rose considerably. Sighing, Moon headed for the stairs. 16

The usual silence met her when she opened the door to her apartment. Those who knew her old life assumed her family had bought her the apartment in such an affluent part of town. Those who knew her now thought she either had a sugar daddy hidden away or was selling drugs to afford such a great place. The truth was a lot harder for most people to comprehend. She was a talented artist and fantasy airbrushing was big business if you knew where to look. This apartment was her sanctuary. The one place she could be exactly what she was—a contradiction. A vibrant colored dragon splayed across the wall of the hall with a delicate antique mahogany hall stand positioned at the end of the dragon’s fire ball. Everywhere else, she had to be one thing or the other—formal and plain or vivacious and artistic. And never the twain shall meet. Except here. Here all parts of Moon merged together to create a uniformity, just as they did inside her. It was one of the reasons she loved the place so much. She turned. An ostentatious and expensive looking bouquet of flowers sat on the hall table. A slow form of dread trickled into her stomach. A silver card sat perched between the delicate petals of a bird of paradise flower. She sighed, the handwriting unmistakable. You know you still love me. We are perfect for each other. She read the note and then scrunched it into a ball. “Damn it. Tomorrow I’m going to have to change the locks.” ~* * *~ Zale paced relentlessly across the hardwood floor. His blood continued to rush hot and rampant through his veins and there was still enough adrenaline to keep him tense and near the edge of control. Even now the scent of Rory’s blood clung to his skin and it made him hunger for more. He stood motionless and closed his eyes, reliving the final moments of battle. Rory fought hard for his life, but the prodigy was no match for the master and no matter how many years Rory had battled the shape shifters, Zale would always be superior. He smirked, he would always be better than those he initiated and trained. And there had been so many over the years, some better than others, and once he had completed his current plans he was going to initiate a select few to a new world order. He’d carefully selected powerful venators in strategic locations all over the world to recruit. Casper, the ancient Persian venator. Lash, the Gypsy. Nen, from ancient Egypt. Silvan, the Latin hunter. All four were all on his list. But first, he was starting in his own city and had his sights set on Rin, the Japanese venator. The hunter had been stationed under his supervision for the last seventy years and Zale was still unsure if he could be turned. He had wanted Rory on his side; he sought his strength, his influence over the other venators. It was a pity he had to die, but Rory had found out Zale’s plans a bit too early. He should have known Rory would take Tynan’s side. Now Tynan would be coming home. He could sense it. Just as he could feel the Dark Moon approaching. The Dark Moon was a time he should be hunting, tearing flesh and feeding on the blood of innocents and the not-so-innocent alike. It called to him and the desire powering 17

through him was almost overwhelming. Would this year bring about his release and show his true identity, or would he have to hunt the hunted once more? The door to the bedroom opened and his latest conquest peered cautiously inside. Confusion creased her brow and Zale smiled to himself. Well, she should be confused. He picked her up on his nightly rounds of the city and worked his magical charm on her. Not that he needed it. She’d been more than willing to offer herself. And he’d been more than willing to take her. She was sensual and full of energy and he’d already had a quick taste of her. He hardened at the thought of her writhing underneath him and nearly groaned aloud at the memory of her taste. Zale felt her confusion grow into fear as he stood staring at her. Some of the hunger growing inside him must have shown on his face. Usually the fear escalated the joy. It fed his desire and made the inevitable outcome even more pleasurable. Tonight however, other matters played on his mind. Tonight, need gripped at his stomach and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure how to quench it. He’d already tasted blood tonight in the heat of battle and now he wanted something different. He still wanted blood, always more blood, there never seemed to be enough to sate that desire. A slow seductive smile slid across his face and he saw her relax slightly. “Good evening,” he greeted her. “Did you sleep well?” She blinked, shifting long black tendrils of hair from her face. “Yes, I slept wonderfully.” Confusion slid across her face once more. “How long was I out?” “Only a few hours.” He extended a hand. “Come here.” She hesitated for the slightest fraction of a second as her base instinct kicked into survival mode and recognized that he was lethal. Then it was gone and lust was evident in her sleep-laden eyes. Curvaceous and sensuous, she slinked over to him. Her heat warmed him as her bare skin slid across his, the friction sending his heightened senses into overload. He growled, wanting her again. Demanding hands skimmed his chest, tearing at the edges of his shirt. She bent her head and laved his nipple with her tiny wet tongue and he jerked. He entwined a hand through her long hair and tipped her face up to meet him. Full luscious lips parted in anticipation. Lips that had, only hours before, pleasured him. Liquid desire hammered through his hard body. Her heat, her love of life, felt contagious. He wanted that. Zale bypassed her lips and went straight for the length of her throat. He licked and sucked at the velvety tender flesh of her neck. She moaned and tilted her head back, giving him greater access. Veins stood out just under the creaminess of her skin. The rhythm of her heart beating through them. He felt it, heard it. His heart accelerated to bursting point. He pushed down the desire to taste her. He wanted her first. Then he would take her life. “I need you,” she said in a hoarse whisper. She twisted her hands through his long grey hair, pulling him closer. Her jugular thumped against his lips. It was his undoing. He curled his lips to allow his canines room to grow. Hissing, he sunk his fangs deep into the soft thickness of her throat. She stiffened and screamed in pain. He almost smiled. Then her heart accelerated the blood through her veins and he was lost in the taste. 18

Pure ecstasy engulfed him at the sweetness of her. It made him yearn to transform into his true state but he held his human form to savor the rest of her. Eventually, her body went limp in his arms and he dropped her immediately. Lifeless and crumpled on the floor, she lost all appeal to him. He eyed her. Perhaps he should have taken her one more time before he killed her. Perhaps he should have asked her name. No matter. She had given him what he craved and for a while he would feel the completeness he longed for. The completeness to be one with Matilde. At moments like this his desire to have his wife back was nearly overwhelming. Soon he would have her again. Hold her in his arms. He stepped over the woman’s body and stood before a picture of Matilde. Anguish threatened to shatter him, his grief plagued him at this time of year. But this year it would be different. This year he would seek out revenge on the man who took her from him. He wanted to kill Tynan. The desire to slaughter the traitor nearly killed him. But he needed to bide his time. To take the man’s life on the very same night the murdering bastard stole his wife’s soul. He required Tynan’s blood. He shook his head, wishing that all those years ago, instead of saving Tynan he’d have allowed the man to be killed in a blood hunt. But Zale had pleaded with the brethren to show mercy on his trainee. In truth, Zale loved Tynan like a son. But his feelings hadn’t stopped him from having Tynan banished to the furthest part of the coldest place on earth Zale could find while he bided his time. Now his moment was coming. It was almost here.

19

Chapter Four As a shape shifter, Dane moved fast. He ran along the ice caps with a speed that belied his size. He was quick, big and lethal. In animal form, he was a polar bear and he killed without mercy. He could smell his prey across the snow fields for miles around. There were no lengths he wouldn’t go to get a kill. Even as a man something about him kept people at a respectable distance. Part of him was sad about that. As a shifter, and an ursine at that, both manifestations were meant to be loners. But he yearned for companionship. Someone to look at him without fear in their eyes. Damn the fact his human mind remained when he changed. Primal instincts surfaced and screamed through the blood in his veins. And still a part of him, the human part, sat knowingly in his brain, slightly apart from the ferocity of his instinct. It lingered, observing, so he was never fully complete. Always slightly disjointed and fractured. But now he felt free. The ice solid under his feet, he lumbered forward in smooth, strong motion. He considered keeping his human form and flying to the city, like most of his kind wanted to do. But as the horizon began to darken and the indigo sky reflected off the brilliance of the snow, he knew he made the right decision. Soon he would reach civilization and transform into a man. Many cycles of the moon had passed since he lived among men. As a man, he owned a home on the outskirts of town. Throughout the centuries, like most of his kind, he had been able to accumulate a wealth that rivaled that of small countries. But he was a man of simple tastes, so a modest home and a cozy bear den to house both his manifestations were enough to keep Dane satisfied. According to rumor, he was a bit of an eccentric recluse and he did nothing to appease the talk. He traveled into the small settlements in the area, being careful not to be too friendly, keeping to himself. The lure to take some of the townsfolk as prey constantly plagued him. He knew there was a limit that Tynan, the local and only hunter, would allow and as soon as he stepped over the line, the venator would hunt Dane with vengeance. He never wanted that. But there were so many people in the big city. More prey, more to choose from. And with so many shape shifters in the city he would be sheltered. He would be able to kill at will. The calling Dark Moon seized at his heart. The day of ultimate carnage approached and even though his human mind rebelled, his shape shifter instincts could already smell the blood of his victims. ~* * *~ Tynan was coming home to Whitehorse. He stepped to the door of the plane, and hesitated at the top of the stairs before descending to the tarmac. An icy wind whipped 20

across the runway and he welcomed the cool freshness of it. The plane had been stuffy and cramped. After so many years in exile, he was now accustomed to the snow, cold and wide open spaces of ice fields and mountains, not the constraints of the aircraft. Squinting, he scanned the darkness surrounding the perimeter of the airport. Evil lurked in the dark and it was his job to hunt and destroy it. But he was here to hunt only one menace. The one who killed Rory. He took a deep breath and the smell of the city hit him. He’d been in banishment for a long time, but he remembered the odors, the noise, the bloodshed and carnage. Of the many places he had lived, this city always felt like home. He sighed and ran a rough hand over the short bristles of his hair. Part of him hoped never to have to set foot in this town again, the other part was glad of it. The familiarity, even after all this time, hit him hard. It was like waking from a dream. The man he revered mentor, loved as a father, still called this city home. But Tynan had betrayed the man. Shattered their bond. Guilt made bile rise and he pushed down the urge to re-board the plane and fly straight back to the cold exile to which he’d been damned. But he’d also had a brother, and now he was dead. And Tynan planned to find out who killed him and rip the bastard to shreds with his bare hands. He owed Rory that much. He owed him his life, and would gladly have given it to save his brother-in-arms. “Excuse me, sir?” The voice startled Tynan out of his reverie and his hand automatically closed around the concealed knife at his spine. “Are you having any difficulty, sir?” The tall curvy attendant stood slightly behind him at the base of the plane’s stairs. He relaxed his hand from the hilt of the knife and turned to flash his most dazzling smile at her. He saw her visibly relax and she returned his smile. Long elegant fingers reached up to toy with the base of her neck. “Is there anything I can assist you with?” He smiled at the ill-hidden innuendo in her voice. She’d flirted with him for the entire flight. In his old life, he would have flirted back. Hell, he would have already seduced her on the plane and wouldn’t hesitate in dragging her to whatever motel he was about to call home and ravish her until they were both sweaty and sated. But it’d been a long time since he'd had a woman. Females were few and far between at the icy ends of the earth. Now a beautiful woman stood in anticipation. He could feel the want radiating off her in waves. But nothing stirred within him. No desire. No longing. He sighed inwardly, a tinge of disappointment filling him. He should want her, he should take her. But to his chagrin, he couldn’t. Perhaps his lust for life had finally frozen as hard as his icy heart. Bending down, he picked up his duffle bag, slid the charming smile back on his face and turned to look at her. “No thanks, love. I’m fine. Have a good night.” Walking across the tarmac, the fierce cold wind chilled his face. Once he stepped out of the airport there was no going back. They would know he was here, if they didn’t already. The last few stragglers from his plane made their way through Customs. Tynan clutched his bag in a death grip, every muscle taut and ready for action. He scanned the 21

faces and body language of the people surrounding him, searching for any familiarity or to see if they gave him too much attention. Anything to alert him to the fact that the brotherhood knew he’d arrived. They’d kill him on sight and he needed time to get to their headquarters and explain what he was doing here. Ask for immunity, for a reprieve from his exile. At least until he found who killed his brother. After that, he didn’t care. He flagged the nearest taxi and slid into the back seat. “To the old Masonic hall,” he instructed the driver. “Are you sure, buddy? This time of night it’s not the place to be. There’s not a night goes by when the cops or the ambulance aren’t called there.” “I’m sure.” The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, hesitated a moment longer, then pulled away from the curb, all the while muttering about damn fool tourists who wanted to get themselves killed. Tynan smiled. The last thing he wanted was to be killed and that’s why he headed straight to the local headquarters of the ancient Venatoris Versipellis. Now that he was in town, protocol demanded he check in with his brethren. He was away from his zone of banishment and they would want to know why. There would be a blood hunt called out for him if they found him in the city without warning. And that was the last thing he needed. He held no fear of the ancient leaders of the venators. He’d already fought them once and was prepared to do it again. But he needed all his attention focused on finding Rory’s killer, not looking over his shoulder. He required free rein of the city but there was one venator he would not contact. He would stay away from Zale. He deserved that much respect. Tynan didn’t want to open old wounds and cause the older man further grief. Tynan grunted and moved uncomfortably in his seat. The scars across his chest burned with white hot fire. The wounds he received from the polar bear had already healed. They'd only been physical pain, and his venator powers healed him quickly. The scars that now marred his otherwise perfect chest ran deeper, almost to his soul, and he doubted they would ever heal. He ran a hand across them and knew in his heart he deserved the pain they still inflicted on him so many years after their conception. ~* * *~ Black drapes adorned the walls of the youth club, darkening the already drab interior. Moon ran a hand along their soft material and fisted the edge of the curtain in frustration, grief clenching at her heart. “Are you okay?” Lea placed a comforting hand Moon’s shoulder, concern etched on her face. Moon smiled sadly at her dearest friend and co-worker. “I’m fine,” Moon lied. “I think they’re waiting for you.” Lea nodded toward the kids, grouped together in the corner as if for protection. They were the ones who suggested a memorial for Rory.

22

It broke Moon’s heart to see them like that, looking scared and unsure. It reminded her of when they first came here, some from broken homes, some high school drop-outs. All lost, afraid and defensive. It had taken a lot of care and a lot of time to get them to open up. The fact that Rory had a lot to do with that was not lost on her. Tears threatened to spill and she quickly blinked them away. She would be strong for the kids, try to be the leader they expected her to be. She took a deep breath and attempted to calm her nerves. Lea gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Do you know what you are going to say? Even though I’ve been here longer, I feel like I barely knew Rory.” Sadness tinged her voice and it was a sadness Moon could easily relate to. Moving over to the stage, Moon boosted herself upward onto its edge and sat with her legs dangling down. Lea came to stand next to her and busied herself tracing the groves of the stage’s wooden floorboards. “I tried to prepare something last night. I never realized how little I knew about him,” Moon’s voice cracked. “It’s like I hardly knew him at all, but we were friends for such a long time. There’s nothing concrete that I can say. I don’t even know his last name, if he had any family, where he lived.” Lea’s hand paused. “You don’t need to know concrete things about someone to realize they’re a good person. A dear friend.” Moon heard the hesitation in Lea’s voice and she reached out and took her hand in thanks. Moon held her secrets close to her heart. In that way, she and Rory were very similar. Working here and being able to do her artwork and make a living from it was a dream come true. She didn’t want her past life to interfere with her life now. Her past was controlled, ridged. And she needed to be free. Moon left her past well behind her and never spoke to it of anyone, preferring to live in the present. Lea accepted her reluctance to speak about herself with grace and understanding. Their relationship was based on who Moon was now. The gratitude Moon felt toward her friend knew no limits. Moon looked to the huge huddle of bodies standing around in the darkened corners. “Maybe we should have cancelled the Under 18’s party tonight. It doesn’t feel right to have a wake during the day and then a party tonight.” “I know, but the kids insisted. I suppose it’s a good thing they want to keep the party tonight. Six months ago, these kids wouldn’t have cared either way. Rory was all for it, today’s their way of saying goodbye to him in the only way they know how.” “I guess you’re right.” Moon jumped up onto the stage, briefly closed her eyes and called for all the kids to take a seat. Looking down she was surprised to see the youth club completely filled to capacity. Not a seat sat empty. A total blanket of unnatural silence spread over the hall and Moon suppressed a momentary shiver as everyone turned their attention toward her. “We’re here today to celebrate the life of Rory,” she faltered and swallowed a lump at her throat. “For all those who knew him, Rory was a—”

23

Bright sunshine invaded the darkened hall, the sound of whipping wind breaking the stark stillness as the back door swung open with a deafening creak. A silhouette filled the door and the chill racing up her spine had nothing to do with the immanent cold. All heads turned toward the light streaming into the hall before the door swung closed of its own accord and darkness swallowed up the man’s shadow. Moon squinted, her eyes re-adjusting to the soft, subtle light. She stifled a gasp. The strange man loitering at the back had an aura about him that practically screamed of testosterone and everyone in the room responded to it. He seemed oblivious to the reaction. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his well muscled, intricately tattooed arms across his strong, wide chest. His white tee-shirt and blue jeans seemed out of place among the winter jackets the rest of the audience sat huddled in. The youth club was a warm and welcoming place, just not physically. The central heating had broken at the beginning of the winter and they had to rely on gas heaters since. It was warmer than outside, but not warm enough to shed the mandatory layers of winter wear. Not that the stranger seemed to notice. Moon focused on him, unable to tear her gaze away. The soft glowing sconce braced to the wall above him illuminated his face, but didn’t seem to soften it. Grim determination was apparent in the set of his hard jaw and even harder planes of his face. Near black eyes gave nothing away. They narrowed on her and she near swooned. Blinking, she tried to focus on why she was here. “Rory gave so much of his time to us,” she continued, hoping to ignore the newcomer. “He truly gave of himself, without asking for anything in return. Please, try to remember the way he lived, not the way he died.” Her heart constricted at the thought of his murder. She looked up at the stranger in the back and held his gaze as she continued to speak, not knowing why. He rubbed at his chest, and she could almost feel the pain in her own chest subside as she spoke from the heart. “Honestly, for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to say. I know nothing of the life Rory led, except when he was here at the youth club. And then he was full of laughter, advice and a good shoulder to cry on. He was a true friend, one that could be counted on when everyone else left. He was the one who was always there for you, and for me, and I wish with all my heart that someone could have been there for him in his final moments. I hope that by having this memorial that we can honor his life.” Tears glistened in the soft artificial light and Moon watched as they fell freely down the hard planes of the strangers face. He didn’t move a muscle and the aura around him turned black and menacing. Moon stepped forward on instinct to go to him. The crowd took it as a sign the formal part of the memorial service had finished. They got to their feet and moved around immediately forming their previous groups. Moon jumped off the stage, not wanting to lose the stranger in the crowd. There was something about him. He caught her off guard and his presence mesmerized her. She didn’t know him and yet there was something familiar about him. The way he stood, relaxed and tense at the same time, as if he could pounce into action at any moment. There was an aura of supremacy and mystery that surrounded him. He reminded her of Rory, but this man oozed power and sensuality in a way she'd never felt from Rory. She instinctively knew he had something to do with her friend. Whether good or bad, she didn’t know. But she was going to find out. 24

Urgently, she fought her way through the throng of people, afraid the stranger would disappear before she reached him. Why was her heart beating erratically fast? Surely he was just a friend of Rory’s here to pay his respects. But why would his mere presence invoke such a strong reaction deep within her? Confusion fogged her brain and she moved through the crowd. Eventually she reached the back of the hall. She stopped abruptly, surprised that the strange man still stood in the exact same spot, his back against the wall, arms folded across his chest. She locked gazes with him once again. A fission of unexpected power slid across her skin before breaking into goose bumps. Unable to drag her gaze from his, she stood in front of him incapable of moving a muscle, her breath coming in short sharp bursts and her heart pounding erratically. Intuitively, she knew his ebony gaze never left her as she made her way to the back of the youth club. His face was still stoic, the planes harder now that she was closer to him. Only his eyes betrayed him. Deep sadness filled his dark eyes and her heart ached for him. Without a word, he turned, opened the door and strode out into the cold winter day. ~* * *~ Zale stepped deeper into the shadows and watched Tynan leave the youth center. Pain, sharper than a dagger’s blade, speared at Zale's heart seeing him after all this time. Adrenaline rushed through his body demanding blood and vengeance. Zale gritted his jaw and fought down the beast wanting to emerge from within. It wanted to pounce, kill his enemy and tear him to shreds. But the logical part of him knew he had to wait for the right moment. Then he could have all his desires met, including the one where he killed Tynan. He stared as Tynan strode across the snowy street and a foreign pang of regret twisted in his stomach. There was a time when Zale had loved him like a son. He’d trained him, protected him, and then Tynan had betrayed him and had taken the only thing Zale had ever loved more than life itself. He would see him pay dearly for it. The doors to the youth club opened and Zale growled deep in his throat, stepping back even deeper into the shadows. People filed through the door. So many young, fresh morsels. Soon he would feast, but for now he would wait. Sometimes the wait was as good as the kill, anticipation was the key. Tonight there was a party and perhaps he would allow himself to pick off a few. He licked his lips in expectation as he watched his future prey. The last woman to exit the club turned to lock the door and for a fraction of a second her gaze fell upon him in the darkened shadows. She shook her head as if to clear it, the purple strands of her pixie-styled haircut swinging to and fro. Zale smiled to himself. They always seemed to do that, shake it off. Pretend that what they really saw was their imagination playing tricks on them. If they really knew what lurked in the shadows their minds would probably fracture. And tonight he planned on fracturing a few innocent’s perceptions of the world. He’d make sure to invoke terror and pain before he took his fill and feasted on their flesh. Perhaps he’d start with the purple haired beauty. 25

Chapter Five Tynan downed the drink in one quick shot and wished the fire would burn away a portion of the hurt. For some reason, it took a hell of a lot of alcohol to get him properly drunk. And right now he didn’t have time. He leaned against the ancient oak bar and nodded to the bartender, who refilled his shot glass without a backward glance. Tynan drank the fourth shot of whiskey as quickly as the first and waited, to no avail, for the image to blur. He couldn’t get thoughts of the purple-haired woman out of his head. He hadn’t realized there would be a memorial for Rory at the youth center, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone. He didn’t want to encroach on other peoples grief, didn’t want to take it on. Emotion had a power and energy all its own and the magnitude of grief was one of the most potent. But it didn’t surprise him to see the club packed with mourners. Rory was forever popular. Somehow the death and gore he saw daily never jaded him. The woman was right; he’d been a true friend. In a room full of people with high emotion, Tynan would pick up on it, take their emotions as his own. He didn’t want that. He held enough grief for his brother’s death and couldn’t handle anymore. Through his time in exile, he had little interaction with people. To be bombarded with so much of it now would surely thaw his heart and that was something he couldn’t risk. If he felt anything other than numbness, grief and personal disgust at what he’d done, then he couldn’t survive out in the ice fields that were now his home. Rory’s death urged him to hunt, to kill those who were responsible. Then, with the same hardened heart, he could go back and live the rest of his damned life in total exile. The woman spoke from the heart of a man he’d known for so long it defied memory. And she’d summed it up so well. Rory had been his truest friend, brother and confidant, and Tynan missed him so badly that it was a physical ache. Even though he hadn’t seen his brother since his banishment, he always knew he was there. He took for granted that one day he would see him again. He never imagined the last time he’d see Rory his friend would be laying in a pool of his own blood, slain by an unknown assailant. The woman at the club spoke of Rory with such passion and heart, was she his lover? Unexpected anger tore through him at the thought of his friend pleasuring the pixie-like beauty. Tynan knew about her and the youth club. Rory had talked about it often enough. Talked of the woman whose passion for life was refreshing, when all they dealt with was death. It was probably how Rory stayed in touch with his humanity, helping the kids get through the roughest patches of their lives. Tynan envied him that. Out in the ice fields of Alaska you were lucky to engage in decent conversation, but he needed to keep a low profile and he had to try and keep away from the locals. A familiar tingling sensation ran up his spine and lodged itself at the base of his neck. He was being watched. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated, refusing to turn around just yet. He sensed that more than one shape shifter had their malicious gaze pinned on him, and he could almost feel the heat of it. He smiled, ordered another drink and took it over to the crowded table.

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Four men sat there. They squirmed awkwardly, all too big to be comfortable crowded around the wooden table that would usually accommodate six patrons. The lethal air that surrounded them made everyone else in the bar give them a wide berth. Nobody wanted to be near them, though every woman shot fleeting glances toward them. One of the men growled threateningly as Tynan approached. “Dane,” he greeted the bear. “I’m surprised to see you this far south.” Dane offered his hand in greeting and Tynan took it without hesitation. “Tynan,” Dane said. “Join us.” He placed his drink on the table and grabbed a nearby chair. “We don’t keep company with venators,” snarled the beefy man to his right. “Then go,” Tynan said. The man’s chair screeched against the tile floor as he rose and stood eye to eye with Tynan. He clenched his fists, eyes darkening as his desire to attack Tynan overrode his senses and he appeared ready to transform. Dane growled menacingly and the three men at the table stilled and looked at him with hesitation. The bear raised his head a fraction and two of the men left on the warning. “Luca, leave now,” Dane quietly said. “Who the hell do you think you are, bear? You come into my city and think you can order me about. I’ll kill you and this venator in one hit, you bastard.” Luca snarled and lunged for a knife on the table. Before Tynan could move, Dane was on his feet. His massively muscled arm shot out, his hand wrapping easily around the man’s thick throat. He stepped around the table with one easy stride, his hand and his cold black gaze never leaving his prey. “Watch who you threaten, boy. This may be your city but my territory stretches far and wide.” Dane squeezed his hand and Luca gasped for breath, his face tinged with purple blotches. “And I don’t need one hit to kill you, you ignorant wolf.” Luca’s eyes bulged and Dane flexed the muscles in his arm, lifting Luca off the ground. An inch from his face, Dane bared his teeth in a feral snarl and threw him easily across the other side of the tavern, splintering the old oak doors. “Gentlemen, please. We can’t be having any of that,” reproached the bartender as he sauntered over and reached for Dane’s back. Dane turned and lunged in one fluid motion toward the oncoming man. Tynan cursed and grabbed Dane’s shoulder, the muscles bunching under his hand. “Easy bear, we’re in public.” Dark bloodlust burned for an instant in Dane’s near black eyes before he took a deep breath and nodded toward Tynan. Tynan released his grip and turned toward the bartender who had looked almost eager for a fight until his saw the look on Dane's face. “Sorry about that. Slight disagreement.” Tynan said. 27

“Yeah, well someone’s going to have to pay for the damage,” the man said with the last of his bravado. Dane pulled a wallet from his jeans pocket, the price tag still attached. He grabbed a wad of cash and without a glance handed it over. “Our apologies. I’m sure this will cover your expenses.” The bartender ogled the money being shoved in his hand, opened his mouth and then obviously thought better of it. He pocketed the money. “Yeah. It ought to. Nothing to worry about folks,” he said to the patrons who had all been watching the floor show. “Just a slight disagreement.” Tynan watched the bartender walk back to the safety of his bar, patting his newly acquired money bulge in the process. He pulled up a chair and picked up his drink. “Unusual for you to be keeping such low company,” Tynan said, taking a sip of the whiskey. Dane took a seat opposite him and cocked his head to one side in a very bear like manner. “Beggars can’t be choosers when the Dark Moon calls.” “The Dark Moon isn’t for a week. I thought your kind only came down for the day picnic.” “So tasteful, venator,” Dane laughed. His eyes wandered to Tynan’s chest. “How’s that little scratch I gave you the other day?” “Hurts like a bitch. You have some right hook.” “Well, you keep insisting on hunting us—me.” Dane took a drink of his steaming hot coffee. He narrowed his gaze. “You’re here because of the death of the venator, Rory. Aren’t you?” Tynan nodded as fresh raw pain of grief assailed him at the mention of Rory’s name. “I know you two were close. My condolences,” he paused. “His death is big news. Do you have any idea who killed him?” Dane took another drink of his coffee and Tynan noticed the long gash on the man’s arm, no doubt the result of Tynan’s stiletto. “No idea. What’s the word among the shape shifters? Anyone owning up to it?” “I’m a shifter and you’re a venator. I know you’ll kill whoever did this, probably with excruciating pain. Why would I betray my brethren and tell you?” “Because you owe me,” Tynan said softly. Dane snorted. “Are you kidding? You’ve hunted me practically ever since you saved me as a cub and you think that’s a favor?” “Well, I haven’t caught you yet.” He was secretly happy about that. He was a cold blooded killer, it came with the job. But he had a soft spot for the shifter since he saved him from the ice fields as a cub. They both chased and fought, but never to the death. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion Dane never really took to the taste of human flesh. Well, at least the populations around their small towns never went down too dramatically.

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He didn’t kid himself, he knew the man sitting opposite him was a lethal killer when he needed to be, and he had urges that were nearly uncontrollable. But then again, so did Tynan. “Good point,” Dane conceded. “None of the shifters seem to know who did it, but it was definitely an animal who took him down.” Dane glanced with hesitation at Tynan. “Or someone who wants us to think it was a shifter.” A cold chill shot through Tynan. “What do you mean?” “The shifters think it was a venator who killed him.” “There was no blood hunt out on Rory,” Tynan said, shards of icy dread shooting through his blood “Then perhaps you have a rouge venator,” Dane said offhandedly. Who would want to kill Rory if it wasn’t a shape shifter? If Dane was right and there was rouge, then God help them all. “You seem to know a lot about it.” Tynan studied the man closely. “It’s news among the shifters, and there are plenty of us about at the moment. There is something else calling them here, something more powerful than the usual blood call of the Dark Moon.” He glanced over to where the door lay in splinters, swinging dismally in the wind on broken hinges. “As you can see, it’s calling in all sorts that usually wouldn’t be here and making those who live here a lot more reckless.” Tynan drained his shot glass and stood. He offered his hand to Dane, who shook it firmly. “Thanks for the info.” “Welcome. Watch your back, Tynan. It’s not only the shifters who want you dead in this city.” Nodding, Tynan headed for the exit, stepping around the remains of the door. Dane had a point about the number of men and beasts who wanted him dead. He needed to go and see his brethren. He’d planned to see them the first night he set foot in town, but the headquarters had been empty. That fact alone raised his suspicions. It was hardly ever empty, something was going on. But if Dane was right and there was a rouge hunter, who did he trust? How high did it go? Was that what Rory tried to tell him the night he died? The knowledge of a rouge hunter would certainly get you killed. Perhaps he would take his chances with his fellow hunters when he came across them. Until he worked out what to do, he wasn’t going anywhere near headquarters. The scars across his chest burned white hot, searing deeper into his skin and the voice he tried so desperately to keep out, nearly screamed out in his mind. Tynan gritted his teeth and tried to block it out. He scanned the street, sure that his old mentor’s eyes upon him. By shear willpower he closed off his mind and tried to dispel the familiar feeling. He would go back to the hotel room to wait until dark. Then he was going to check out the only place he could think of that Rory frequented, other than his home and he wouldn’t go there. He had to assume whoever killed Rory had his house staked out. He would have. So that the only logical option. Tynan was going to crash a party. 29

Chapter Six The thumping bass vibrated through her bones, and despite the somber mood of the day, Moon allowed the music to take over and wash away some of her grief. The walls of the youth club nearly shook with the intensity of the music and noise. The DJ stood in all his glory on the stage, where she had stood only hours ago delivering the brief eulogy. Moon made her way toward the stairs of the stage, barely able to get through the throng of people. The club was packed to capacity, the kids on the floor gyrating with pure exuberance as if dancing with the devil himself. She ducked someone’s flailing arm and ran up to the relative safety of the stage, next to the DJ, grinning despite herself. “It’s going well, my little Moonshine.” DJ Rock—whose real name was Frankie—leaned into her and screamed above the noise. He was a graduate of the youth center, a troubled kid turned good. He turned his passion for music into a viable career, and he gave his services free to the club whenever she asked. She was very appreciative. “Yes, it is.” A grain of pride bloomed within her, she’d put her heart and soul into this club and hoped it made a difference to some of the kids dancing away. She wasn’t naive enough to believe all of them would turn their lives around. But some of them would. “I love your artwork, it really comes alive.” Frankie pointed to the fluorescent lit walls. Huge ten foot dragons danced in the light, their life-like eyes glaring down at the dancing teenagers. Distant planets and stars were strewn across the ceiling creating a vast universe where not-too-long ago only rotten peeling paint dominated. Vampires and were-wolves hid deep within painted forests, hidden in all their menace for those who cared to find them. “Yes, she’s super talented,” a voice yelled. Moon turned to see Lea standing beside her. Her dark long sleek hair reflected with the dancing lights, happiness shining in those big brown eyes. Tall, slim and impossibly youthful for her age, she was dressed in a long black dress and could easily pass for one of the kids at the club rather than a trained psychiatrist who worked tirelessly. “Thank you guys,” Moon replied, unable to hide the smile in her voice. The fact that her artwork was loved and appreciated meant the world to her. It meant she was finally living her dream, creating all the beauty she saw so clearly in her mind for so many years and creating it, making it real for other people as well. The lights flashed, turning multi-colored, sending her eyes into overdrive. Everything seemed to be moving in picture frame slow motion. She couldn’t focus. Disorientated she turned on the spot and then she felt it, someone’s eyes upon her. Her thoughts automatically turned to the strange man at Rory’s memorial this afternoon. An expectant thrill trickled down her body. Remembering the feel those almost black eyes sweep across her body sent a delicious urge through her. She scanned the crowd, squinting through the rapidly blinking lights, looking for the tall, muscular silhouette she was sure she couldn’t miss. Hell, she didn’t think she could miss him, full stop. The man had the kind of presence that sent women swooning as soon as he walked in the door.

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The music became louder, the lights flickering faster and faster, her heart missed a beat before thrumming rapidly in time with the music. Her eyes darted across the room trying to find the source of her discomfort. Breath quickening in her chest, Moon forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. “Are you alright?” Lea stepped next to her. “I’m sure she’s fine,” a voice bit out. Coldness instantly dampened her unexpected excitement and drowned out all her senses, all except anger. She spun on her heal, fists clutched at her side. “What the hell do you want, Sebastian?” “I believe I’ve made that perfectly clear.” He stood stock still, as if trying not to touch anything that might contaminate him. The snarl on his face mixed with a hint of disgust. His crisply starched white shirt glared harshly under the dance lights, creaseless black dress pants nearly shone with cleanliness. His entire demeanor spoke of superiority and distaste. “I want nothing to do with you,” she snapped. “I believe I’ve made that perfectly clear.” Sebastian moved toward her. “You don’t know what you want.” She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, attempting to convey all her hatred for him. “For the first time in my life, I do know what I want.” Turning, she gestured to the crowd, not seeing them through the haze of emotion and lights. “These kids are what I want.” She swung her hand across to the walls and up the ceiling. “This art is what I want.” She looked him in the eye. “You, I don’t want.” He stepped closer, using his height to tower over her, trying to intimidate her, just as he’d done a thousand times before. “These kids are losers, nobodies, lowlifes. They’re fodder for the likes of us.” He snarled and glanced at her beloved art work strewing the walls. “This art is worthless garbage. I’ve seen better on the backs of toilet doors.” Moon swallowed the tears, refusing to let him see the effect his words had, they cut like a knife through her heart. He bent low over her ear. The smell of his expensive cologne wafted across her face and she nearly gagged. “You’re of better stock then this. With your family connections you can go anywhere in the world. You’re a lawyer, for Christ’s sake. Are you going to waste your life on this garbage?” “All you ever wanted was my family’s connections,” she hissed. “I’m not marrying you, so you might as well find another way to further your life, because I’m not going to help you anymore.” She stepped away from him, desperately needing some space. “Now, fuck off and leave me the hell alone.” Applause exploded through the hall. Startled, she turned. Everyone stood watching, enthralled in her interaction with Sebastian. She’d been so intent on the conversation, she hadn’t noticed that the music stopped. The lights still flickered across the hall, illuminating the stage show and the audience. 31

Embarrassed, she turned to the DJ and motioned for him to start the music. He just stared at her. “Start the music, Frankie,” she said through the side of her mouth. “Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry.” Music blasted through the air once more and people started to dance again. She turned but Sebastian’s large hand clamped onto her shoulder before she could leave the stage. “You should be careful when you walk home in the dark. There are strange things that lurk in the shadows,” he growled. Her stomach flipped and she whipped her head around to see the expression on his face was one of pure malice. With a final smirk, let released her and strode out of the hall. ~* * *~ Tynan stalked the perimeter of the youth club. Street lights cast ominous shadows across its walls. The trickle of snow made the shadows dance and move. He stilled, trying to get a feel for the place. Bright colored lights flashed in the windows and the music thundered, even out here on the sidewalk. The smell of people, their adrenaline and their emotions, inundated him after so long in solitude. He needed to separate himself from the frenzy of the crowd to ensure he’d stay in control of his faculties. He needed that control to hunt for Rory’s killer. Closing his eyes, he calmed himself, pushing his emotions down into the furthest recesses of his soul where they belonged. There was a time for allowing other people’s feelings to overpower him and this wasn’t one of them. He stood still, his body tense and ready for action. His eyes sprung open, his own adrenaline now superseding that of the other humans. A shape shifter was close, a strong one. Dangerous and looking for the kill. He cocked his head, confusion irritating him. The scent had a familiar tinge, a recognizable feeling that played on the edges of his mind. He couldn’t quite place it, but he could feel its hunger, the blood lust, so strong it almost fed him too. He backtracked across the street, keeping close to the cold brick wall. Turning into the mouth of a dark alley way, he heard a deep growl. Instantly he stopped and pulled a dagger from the side of his boot. He grimaced at the small blade. It was the only weapon he had felt comfortable bringing into the country, figuring he would be able to get something more substantial from his brethren. But now all that changed. He would just have to make due. He stiffened and widened his stance, readying himself for the attack he was sure was imminent. ~* * *~

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Zale growled low in his throat. He expected Tynan to come here tonight. It was an inevitable consequence of killing Rory. But he’d been hoping to get here to the club early, before his young squire arrived. At the sight of him, the need to rip his throat out came to the forefront. Not now, patience. The young flesh of the innocent would have to do in the meantime. He stared at Tynan. Taking down this man, hard, deadly and dangerous would take time and planning. He wanted him to suffer before his death. But he had to strike quick and get rid of him before Tynan could figure out who and what he was. He saw Tynan ready himself for battle; the smell of his adrenaline wafted toward Zale and accelerated his senses. He breathed in deep, tasting and savoring Tynan’s emotions, letting them feed his own. With lightning quick reflexes he struck. He heard Tynan’s shout and the scent of blood filled Zale’s nostrils, quickening his own blood, his heart near bursting. Before Tynan could recover from the attack, Zale moved into the shadows. He breathed deep and licked the blood that dripped from his fingers. Now he had the taste for blood and he needed it quenched. He backed up until his back hit the wall and he slinked along it. ~* * *~ Tynan twisted, looking around, trying to sense where the shape shifter had gone. Tensing his grip on the dagger, he stepped deep into the shadows where his attacker had come from. He felt the emptiness of the air around him and though he held his knife at the ready, he knew the shifter had already fled. Why did he flee? Why did he attack and not run at the first sight of him? Familiarity still clung to the air and he couldn’t shake it. He raised a hand to his face and wet sticky blood coated his fingers. He pushed the pain away, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. Thick gashes crossed his face and jaw; he was scratched deep to the bone. He cursed. He couldn’t go around with his face so badly injured; he would attract too much attention. Glancing up, a small window glistened against a sliver of street light. Reaching up he tried to pry it open. It was frozen solid. He wedged his knife into the windowsill and levered it until it finally popped open. He cursed as his fingers slipped against the icy window pane but finally pulled himself up and squeezed through the too small window. Boots skidded against the wet tiled floor of a shabby old bathroom. He grabbed at the stained porcelain sink to stop himself from falling. He stared at himself in the cracked mirror. The side of his face was slit opened from his left temple his jaw line. Blood flowed freely and dripped down his chest. Sighing, he turned on the cold water. The tap vibrated and shook out off-brown icy water. Dabbing some onto his face, he grimaced, shards of pain splicing through his face. The music was muffled through the door, turning to it, he looked for a lock. He didn’t need some kid walking in on him. No lock. He looked around for something to jam against the 33

door. Nothing. He’d just have to do this as quickly as possible and get back to patrolling the night. And to finding out who killed his brother. Was it the same shifter, who’d just attacked him and disappeared? Why hadn’t the shifter just killed him when he had the chance? None of it made sense. But he needed to figure it out, before it got him killed as well.

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Chapter Seven A slight cloud of melancholy hung over Moon. She plastered a smile on her face and mingled with children and adults alike, attempting to be her usual exuberant self. But something heavy sat in her heart. The memorial this morning drained her emotionally and for some reason the presence of the strange man affected her even more so. And then there was Sebastian. Damn the man for turning up here and demanding she leave with him. Go back to her previous life where she would be dull, lifeless, the walking dead. She didn’t want her former life intruding here, the life they tried to force on her had no place here. Here she could be who and what she wanted, not a puppet for her family. The lights started to flicker again as the music reached for its crescendo and it was all too much for her. Deciding she needed a break from the noise and crowds she excused herself and headed for the bathroom. Dark red, evil eyes stared back at her from the sunken face gracing the door. They gleamed lifelike and she hardly believed she was the one who painted it. Perhaps she should have created something a little happier on the door. The freshly painted door heading to the bathroom opened silently on freshly oiled hinges. Pushing through, she looked down and rubbed at her aching eyes, suddenly exhausted. The door groaned shut automatically behind her. She looked up and primal fear twisted around her heart. A man stood stooped over the sink, his broad back to her, though as soon as she noticed him, she realized his stance stiffened and he stilled. She swallowed her fear. This stranger had no business here, and it was her job to keep the kids safe. She straightened to her full height, which was pretty diminutive against the man in front of her. Even stooped his height towered over her and he probably outweighed her by at least double. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in what she hoped was a severe tone. He looked up slowly, but didn’t turn around. She saw his face reflected in the old cracked mirror. Blood covered the front of his jacket dripping from a huge gash along the length of his face. Moon gasped and stepped back, blindly grasping behind her for the door handle. He turned to face her with methodical slow movements which scared her even more. He held up his hands in front of him, his gaze never leaving hers. “Take it easy, be calm.” Moon’s eyes darted to the glinting knife, held in his hand. Panic rose once again and she baulked, pressing her back harder against the door. His gaze finally left her and followed her eyes to the knife grasped in his hand. He cursed, turned and dropped the knife with an echoing clunk into the sink. “Listen to me,” he spoke calmly, his deep voice almost mesmerizing. Stepping forward he reached a wet hand toward her. Fear the likes of which she had never known rose within her. She kicked out, connecting with something solid. He groaned, clutching at his shin. Turning, she reached for the door handle, its cold metal feeling like a life preserver. She twisted and managed to get the door open a fraction. Loud music blared through the opening and she screamed in vain, knowing there was no way would anyone hear her. A 35

hand swept out from behind her and slammed the door shut. Lightning quick, it splayed over her mouth. Sheer black fright swept through her. She twisted her head, trying desperately to remove his hand. Her hands came up to try and pry him away, to no avail. Bringing up her knees, she placed both her legs against the door and pushed with all her might. The man cursed again as they both flew backward. She heard the dull thump as his back hit the edge of the sink and still his grip remained firm. “Take it easy, I won’t hurt you,” he whispered against her ear. “I won’t hurt you, Moon.” Her eyes widened with panic at the mention of her name. How did this stranger know her name? She started to struggle against him again. Her breath became shallow, trying to suck as much air as she could through her nose. The feeling of suffocation became overwhelming the more she fought. And his voice, she just couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the deep timbre of it. Low and almost guttural, his warm breath sent shivers through her body which had nothing to do with the fear racing through her. His hand had been initially wet and cold, now the heat from it warmed her face. She tried to calm herself before she choked. She breathed deep through her nose and wished she hadn’t. The scent of him filled her head, masculine and spicy. It made her want to forget their situation and reach out with her tongue and taste him. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice compelled her, and she almost wanted to believe him. Then a drop of blood spilled onto his jacket. “If I move my hand, don’t scream. It won’t do you any good. Nobody can hear you in here.” Moon jerked her head in agreement and he instantly removed his hand. She sucked in huge gasps of fresh breath and scuttled away. She twisted around him and made a grab for the knife sitting in the bottom of the stained porcelain sink. Water and blood mingled on the handle and she gripped it tighter to stop it from slipping. Turning to him, she pointed its blade as near to him as she dared. “Who are you?” She edged a little closer. “I won’t let you hurt any of those kids out there.” “I’m the one who’s injured,” he pointed out. With a quick flip of his wrist, he reached out and unarmed her with a force of speed that frightened her. The knife clattered to the floor. Unable to stop herself, her gaze flew to his face. She squinted through the gore and blood marring his features and recognition hit. “You were the guy here earlier at Rory’s memorial.” He nodded. The muscles in his face tightened and a cloudy haze darkened his eyes at the mention of Rory’s name, as if he were keeping raw emotion in check. She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized his face. “What happened to you?” “Attacked by a cat.” She snorted. “Yeah, some cat.” Wincing, he staggered, hands reaching for anything to keep him upright. Moon reached out, her hand found strong hard muscle underneath the thick jacket, his strength gave her 36

pause. But she hesitated only a moment before taking his arm and attempting to drag him out of the bathroom. “Come on, I’ll take you to hospital.” “No, I’m fine. I just need to rest a bit.” “Rest? You look like you’ve had half your face ripped off. Come on, let me help you.” She pulled at his arm, but he remained stock still, and she realized there was no way she’d be able to move him if he didn’t want to be moved. Looking up, she tried to see past the blood and gore, to the face of the man behind it. He’d known Rory, so he couldn’t be all that bad. He obviously held deep feelings for his friend. She could never imagine someone faking such an emotional response. She remembered his tears earlier at the memorial service. She shivered. Up close his eyes were the deepest black, and she stupidly wondered if they had the power to see right through her. His eyes clouded over again, this time in physical pain, and he hung his head a fraction. Swallowing her fear and uncertainty, she tightened her grip on his arm. “Come on, you can rest upstairs.” Some unknown emotion crossed over his face and cleared his eyes. “Do you always invite strange injured men to take refuge here?” “No. I have to say this is the first time.” “It’s a bit stupid. What if I’m a psychotic axe murderer?” “Well, where are you hiding your axe?” She said with a hint of amusement. He chuckled and it sent an unexpected tingle across her skin. “Come along, we’ll go the back way.” She automatically trailed her hand down his arm and took his hand. It engulfed hers, his strong fingers held loosely in an attempt not to crush her fingers. Opening the door, a wave of loud music hit her. She tightened her hold on his hand and led him up a dark narrow set of stairs that lead down a short corridor. A slightly musty dank smell permeated the entire upper floor thanks to old mildewed wallpaper and worn carpet that had seen better days. Reaching the end of the corridor, they entered a large off-white room, the walls and floor padded with soft white material. Only a bed sat in the far corner and a row of cupboards lined one wall. He pulled up short at the door and she jerked to a halt, finally releasing his hand. She turned to him, “What?” “It’s a fucking padded room. I’m just looking around for the men in white coats and the straightjackets.” She laughed. “It’s a music recording studio, it’s just that it took so much money to soundproof it out that we didn’t have enough to get the sound recording equipment. We’re hoping to do that next year.” She walked in, leaving him standing on the threshold. The cupboards were almost empty, except for a fresh set of linen for the bed. She pulled out the hot pink bed clothes and started making the bed. 37

“We keep this bed in here for when a kid goes a little wayward and needs a place to cool down and get some rest. It’s fairly safe, and with the soundproofing, they can scream out their frustrations and then sleep a bit.” He loitered in the doorway, stance rigid, looking like he wanted to flee. Not that she could blame him. Even after the way they’d met, he hadn’t hurt her and it wasn’t in her nature to turn away someone injured. What harm could there be with him staying here for the night? “Listen, I’m going to go and get the first aid kit, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” She approached him, but he blocked the entire doorway with his wide muscular frame. He didn’t move until she got close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Hurrying out the door, she went to fetch the kit, her heart hammering as if she’d run a race. What was wrong with her? Surely it must be excessive adrenaline rush from their scuffle downstairs. It was the only explanation. There was no way she’d have such a strong reaction to a strange, injured man. He was obviously a friend of Rory’s and needed help. And she was kind hearted. She was helping him, that’s all. The fact that her heart skipped a beat when he stood too close had nothing to do with it. He’d gone in and shut the door by the time she returned, that was a good sign. Knocking gently, she opened the door. Bare muscled flesh assailed her vision. He stood with his back to her, his jacket and shirt now gone. Hard muscles played under flawless tawny skin. Jet black tattoos ran up both arms in almost a Celtic knot design before disappearing over the tops of his wide shoulders. The designs almost moved, making the light dance off them as he flexed his muscles. He stilled, as if sensing her presence. She should make some noise, clear her throat. Excuse herself. But she stood in silent awe, unable to make a sound. All that strength gave her pause. If he wanted to overpower and hurt her, she wouldn’t stand a chance. He obviously had no intentions of harming her. But as he turned around, her intentions changed completely. The tattoos ran over his shoulders and across his chest, meeting above his heart, they then slid down both sides to cover his rib cage, leaving his washboard stomach bare. It showed off his faultless physique to perfection. Smoldering heat scorched her face, unable to tear her gaze away from him. She moistened her suddenly parched lips with her tongue. “Is that for me?” he asked. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed. She shook her head. “Oh. I mean, yes. Yes it is.” With fumbling fingers, she hastily handed over the first aid kit, trying desperately not to make contact with him. “Do you need some help?” “No, thanks. I’m used to doing this on my own.” He took the kit and ran a thumb against the palm of her hand. “Thank you for your help.” “You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to it then.” She headed for the door and turned back to him. “Did you know Rory well?” “Yes.” The familiar raw pain crossed the shadows of his eyes before he pushed it away. “We were brothers.” 38

Chapter Eight Rin stepped into the darkness and blended perfectly into the shadows. That was what he was; a shadow. As a venator, he stood with the best of them, equal in skill and power. Yet, he stood apart from their world. His culture and upbringing had been pounded into him with such a ferocity that even centuries later it flowed ceaselessly through his veins. In a time of ancient warriors and an honor code written in blood, his life-force was one to be reckoned with even before his initiation into the world of the venator. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his deadly Samurai sword and it all but vibrated against his palm as it called for blood. A weak hazy sun fought its way to the horizon, barely shedding enough light to diminish the shadows against the wall of the youth club. The last of the party goers left hours ago, but still Rin kept his defense of the perimeter. The scent of blood, both freshly spilled and stale, continued to wreak havoc with his sensibilities. Last night had been bloodshed and carnage on the level usually only seen when the Dark Moon ruled. An unusual surge of anger seethed deep within and burned at his stomach. He’d been unable to prevent most of the slaughter and that had infuriated him. He was a venator. It was his job to protect the innocent from the feral animals of the night. But last night a shape shifter targeted the individuals and crowds leaving the club with nearly unprecedented fury. The shifter never entered the club, but stayed on the outside, in the shadows, stalking those departing the party. Every time Rin got close enough to the action the shifter fled as if he were in it only for the feed and not the fight. The last time, he caught a glimpse of a huge alpha wolf, blood of the innocent matting its fur before it fled. But it was what lay beneath the tangy scent of blood and death that sent a ripple of unease across his spine. A scent, a familiar impression of inbred superiority. Rin slid along the edge of the ice encrusted wall and tightened his firm grip on his ancient sword. He reached out to check that the front door was still locked, satisfied the purple-haired woman and Tynan were still inside the building. He would have sensed it the instant the other venator emerged, but the pair had been sequestered upstairs all night. A pang of longing pierced him at the thought of Tynan and the woman being alone together in the club. It had been a long time since he allowed himself the comfort of a woman beside him. Once burned, he’d learned his lesson well and wasn’t about to make the same mistakes. Not when the last time nearly cost him his life and his immortal soul. Pushing down memories best left forgotten to fester deep within his soul, Rin continued around the building. The morning sun had yet to lighten the dark alleyway between the youth club and its nearly derelict neighbor. Halfway down the dank lane Rin paused and glanced up at a small open window. The scent of stale blood and adrenaline lingered against the window, barely evident over the fetid smells of the alley. He inhaled and recognized the scent belonged to Tynan. The venator had been injured. Rin frowned. Who was strong enough to injure the venator so badly that his scent still lingered hours later? Tynan’s reputation was fierce and strong and it struck him as unusual that he’d be wounded so quickly after arriving in the city. Perhaps his banishment had made him soft. 39

But something was happening in the dark underbelly of the city and it began with Rory’s death. Rin didn’t like coincidences. He’d been close to Rory, one of the only venators he allowed the weakness of friendship. The foreign pain of grief gripped at his heart before he grimaced and put his emotions back in check. Emotions were for the weak, they interfered with logic. Facts would save your life, but emotion was bound to get you killed. He respected Rory’s skill and the way he’d been ripped to shreds had shocked even their hardened community. Now Tynan was back, but that was to be expected. He knew all about the need to find the truth and offer vengeance. The street lights flickered before going out, the morning sun fighting to take the place of the artificial light. At this time of year, it probably would have been best to keep the lights on all day, the sun never fully penetrated through the bluish haze. It took a long time for Rin to become accustomed to the eerie atmosphere during the shortest days of the year. Now he used it to his advantage, slipping once again into the shadows while they lasted. Daybreak saw an easing of the violence of his world. Time for sleep, he’d need to be rested. He had a feeling the nights were going to be even longer and deadlier than usual. ~* * *~ Warm soft linen wrapped around his naked body and he snuggled in enjoying the rare feeling of total comfort. A soft scent lingered on the blankets, the scent of the woman. His body instantly hardened at the thought of her. Tynan pressed his face into the hot pink sheet and drank up her smell. Visions of her planted themselves in his brain. The look of surprised terror in her eyes when she found him in the bathroom quickly became a look of defiance. He respected that. But what he respected most was how those eyes had quickly turned into kindness. Compassion was something rare in his world. He wasn’t used to it and the fact that someone could be so kindhearted toward him stunned him. He remembered the feel of her small lean body pressed against his writhing with all her strength to free herself from his clutches. How he wished she would writhe with him instead of against him. Strange woman that she was, she seemed a total contradiction to herself. Refined, well spoken and yet the purple hair and the tattoos across her collarbone that he caught a glimpse of as they wrestled in the bathroom told of a different story. Tattoos he wouldn’t mind exploring at greater length. He snorted in self derision. He’d come to the city to find Rory’s killer not to bed the first woman who crossed his path. No, that wasn’t true, the airhostess at the airport had practically thrown herself at him and he had no desire to bed her. But even the thought of Moon warming his bed awakened long forgotten desires. Something about her got under his skin. The way she stood up to him in the bathroom, like a diminutive Amazon warrior protecting her clan from a deranged man with a knife. But when she slipped her tiny hand into his and led him upstairs and offered him sanctuary, for a fraction of a second his heart actually believed in the kindness of strangers. She treated him like a human, not the pariah he was. He wondered if she would treat him like a man in other arenas, as well. But he 40

knew he didn’t deserve her kindness. He flung the bed clothes from his body letting the cool air help clear his thoughts. There was, after all, a good reason why he was banished from the city. Comfort in the arms of a woman was something he didn’t deserve, no matter how beguiling or consuming the woman. He slid into his jeans and boots and shrugged into his T-shirt. By mid morning he would probably be frozen solid, but he couldn’t wear his blood-stained jacket. Tynan grabbed the first aid kit and shut the door with a soft click behind him and headed for the bathroom. The gash down the length of his face was almost healed. Usually, it wouldn’t even take this long, but being badly injured twice within the space of a week made it slower to heal. At least he’d had a good night’s sleep. Why, he didn’t know but it’d certainly been a while since that had happened. Nightmares, blood and the screams of the innocent, usually terrorized his nights. But last night wrapped in a warmth and comfort he was unaccustomed to, he slept peacefully for the first time since being banished to the outer edges of Alaska. The youth club was eerily quiet after the deafening noise from last night’s party. He made his way downstairs, party debris strewn the entire length of the stairs and across the hall. He stepped over the garbage and his gaze locked on what appeared to be an office door. If Rory came here so often, perhaps he left a clue to his killer there. The door opened into a small and cramped but tidy office. On the desk sat mountains of paperwork all stacked neatly and labeled by sense of urgency. In front of the mounds—in a place of honor—stood a small tarnished brass plaque. He leaned forward to read it and laughed. World’s First Purple Haired Angel Movement came from the opposite wall of the office and he spun on his heel. The noise came from a small blanketed lump on a faded leather arm chair. Tensing, he cursed the fact he’d left his weapon, his knife, down in the bathroom. Edging his way across to the chair, he clutched a corner of the faded blue blanket and folded it back. Tousled purple hair emerged from the coverlet and before he could help himself, he gently ran his fingers through the short lengths of Moon’s hair. He’d expected it to be hard and spiky, but as he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger he realized it was as soft as down. Tynan pulled his hand back and clenched it into a fist by his side barely stopping himself from caressing the delicate planes of her face. Asleep, her delicate features were almost enchanting, until she moved. Her lips parted and her shirt moved, revealing the creamy white vee between her breasts. Suddenly, desire overrode enchanting. What in the hell was wrong with him? One act of kindness and he wanted to…hell, he didn’t know what he wanted. Her eyes slowly opened. Sleep-filled and dark blue, they tried to focus on him. They widened before recognition set in. The smile she bestowed upon him defrosted a section of his heart that he’d packed in ice many years ago. He stepped back.

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“Good morning,” confusion creased her brow. “I’m sorry I didn’t even ask you your name last night.” “Tynan.” “Tynan.” It rolled off her tongue as she tried out the sound of his name. He instantly hardened at his name being released off those soft, supple lips. Like a cat stretching from a long sleep, she unfurled herself off the lounge chair. “Good morning, Tynan. How are you feeling?” She rubbed a hand through her hair and came to stand before him. “Better. Why are you down here sleeping on a tiny arm chair?” “Well, I couldn’t leave you alone in a strange place.” She looked sheepish. “Besides I’ve slept here a few times before.” How many times before? And with whom? Had she slept here with Rory? Had his brother pleasured her here up against the arm chair? He nearly growled at the thought. “I’m going to wash my face and freshen up. The kitchen is across the hall. Go in and make yourself comfortable and I’ll make us some breakfast,” she said. Moon reached out a small hand and gave his forearm a comforting squeeze before she released him and headed out the door. The contact was quick and probably meaningless to her. So why did the electrical jolt through his forearm heat his entire body? Why had it gone straight to his heart and left him wanting more? He opened the door, stepped out into the corridor and headed toward the kitchen. The room was larger than expected but scarcely furnished. A large plastic table cloth covered a rickety old table which was encircled by old and faded chairs. A line of brightly colored cupboards lined the wall, with a fridge and oven top that had seen better days off to one side. He leaned close to one of the cupboards and stared at the intricate detail painted on the door. The tiny fairies depicted there were so lifelike he almost believed in their existence. He ran a finger across the one with purple hair and wings. “Do you like it?” He snatched his hand back and found Moon standing behind him. “These cupboards are like my practice canvases. I try out all my artwork up here when I get a chance.” She leaned down and traced the fairy with her fingers, caressing the exact same spot he had touched just moments before. “You’re very talented. They’re beautiful,” he rasped out. She spun, twisting on the spot and gifted him with a dazzling smile. “Thank you. My art makes me truly happy, but it’s not to everyone’s taste.” He envied the sparkle in her eye when she talked, a fire glowed there, and he wondered if that flame would spark higher with his kiss.

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“Um, would you like me to make you some breakfast? I can do scrambled eggs and toast.” She moved toward the fridge, but he stopped her, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. “You’re not my slave. I can do it myself.” He wasn’t used to being waited on. “I know, but you’re my guest,” she said, patting a small delicate hand against his. Another jolt of unexpected longing lodged itself in his stomach. Needing some space he pulled his hand from her shoulder and went to sit down. He twisted in his seat, awkwardness making him uncomfortable. It’d been a long time since he’d been in the company of anyone. Small talk wasn’t his strong point and this woman was starting to raise strange feelings within him. In the short time he’d known her, she made him yearn for things he knew he wasn’t worthy of. He looked over at her, serenely cooking breakfast, humming softly to herself. He wanted to go to her. To take her in his arms and sate this growing desire that was starting to color his thoughts. Damn it, he didn’t want to be attracted to her. He didn’t want to be attracted to anybody. Attraction was something he didn’t deserve. He was here with a job to do, to find Rory’s killer. She placed two gold trimmed white porcelain plates full of toast and scrambled eggs on the table and took a seat opposite him. He stared at the plates; they were so out of place in such a mix-matched room. Moon smiled sadly as she noticed his confusion, “Rory, donated the plate set to the club. He said no matter how bad the food you should eat it off good plates.” “Sounds like him. He was a big man for luxury. No matter if he was in the world’s worst cesspit, if he had good company and good food, he’d be alright,” he said with a small grin of his own. “You miss him, don’t you?” Her sympathy nearly broke him. He merely nodded. “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to find whoever killed Rory,” he said simply. He watched her swallow hard. “Then what?” He didn’t answer. The thought of getting his hands on Rory’s killer quickened the pounding of his heart and made him want blood. “The police came with a warrant and searched the entire club the day after he died. They said they were pursuing inquires into Rory being in a gang or some kind of organization. It’s strange, the police acted like Rory’s death was some kind of revenge killing,” Moon said. Tynan swallowed a mouthful of scrambled egg and attempted to appear unconcerned. The police would have been called to investigate Rory’s death. But the Venatoris Versipellis held a major influence over any city in which they were established. They had members in government and the police force. Rory’s murder should have been handled by now. The fact the police were investigating so thoroughly didn’t bode well. 43

Moon fidgeted with her uneaten eggs. “I can’t imagine Rory being into anything like that, he was such a giving soul.” There was a tinge of pleading in her voice, a questioning that begged to be answered. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. That people could be giving and caring and at the same time be ruthless killers when it was required. Nothing was black and white. “He always was generous with his time and his heart.” It was all he could say. Moon nodded in agreement. “And he was always willing to talk. He was such a great support when I first arrived here. Always full of great advice. In fact, he was the one who suggested I find a place of my own and leave my boyfriend. Rory never liked him for some reason.” Moon shot him a quick glance, rose from the table and went to rinse her plate in the sink. Tynan couldn’t read the expression in her eyes. He’d never known Rory to interfere in another person’s life. Had Rory wanted her for himself? No, that wasn’t in Rory’s nature. But he on the other hand could see himself employing any tactics to capture Moon’s attentions. Under different circumstances. Tynan grasped the edges of the plate and snapped it in two. Moon spun on her heel to face him. Shock evident on her face, she automatically took a step back. Tynan cursed himself for his rare outburst of emotion. He’d scared her, that much was obvious. He put the pieces of the plate on the table and went to stand before her. “I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. Looking into her deep blue eyes he didn’t trust himself to say anything else. Understanding shone in her eyes. Damn it, he needed to get out of here and focus on catching Rory’s killer. Not fantasizing over things he couldn’t have. Things he didn’t deserve.

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Chapter Nine Tynan held his breath, ripped off the yellow police tape and opened the front door to Rory’s house. A musty stench of death lingered in the darkened house. That’s what it was now—a house—no longer his brother’s home. Tynan walked down the narrow hallway and into the open living room at the back. The last of the evening sun glistened in the mist through huge glass windows. A strong wind howled, fluttering a blue tarpaulin nailed to the outline of a window pane. Shattered glass littered the plush cream-colored carpet. He stood in the middle of the room, closed his eyes and slowed his breathing and tried to get a feel for the place. A feel of what happened here. He groaned and in his mind he replayed the last moments of Rory’s life. Tynan couldn’t see who attacked his brother, only fragments of pain, movement and malice. The strength of the killer gave him pause, their force mingled with Rory’s until it was almost undetectable. Rory had used the last of his power to reach out to him, to ask for vengeance and Tynan had every intention of honoring his brother’s last request. Tynan gasped for air, a film of sweat covered his brow as the images of his brother’s murder were too much for him to bear. He gritted his teeth and with a great strength of willpower forced the images out of his mind. He opened his eyes and found himself in darkness. How long had he been standing there? A prickle of unease slid down his spine. He moved over to the wall and flipped on the light switch. A dim glow filled the room and he smiled despite himself. Venators fought in the darkness where most of the shape shifters fed, so they were gifted with brilliant night vision. The onset of bright electric lights had come as a shock to their systems. Rory often complained and wished for the days when candlelight was the sole means of illumination. He looked toward the window; the reflection of the living room stared back at him. His smile slid from his face. Pools of dried blood marred the light carpet. When he first arrived, he'd believed them to be shadows cast by the tarpaulin. God, there was a lot of blood. His brother’s life force had drained from his body and soaked up into nothing more than a stain. Walking over to one of the largest pools, shards of glass crunched underfoot as he crushed it into the soft carpet. He bent down and ran his hand against the blood-stiffened stain. He hissed drawing his hand back as blood dripped from a fresh cut across his palm. A long splinter of glass buried deep within the carpet gleamed red with his blood. Tynan cursed, rose to his feet and turned his back on the morbid scene. He only wished he could block out the images seared into his brain as easily. He switched off the light and headed toward the bedroom. The silhouette of a king sized bed filled the room and Tynan barely glanced at it, his attention held by nothing you could see with the naked eye. If he hadn’t known it was there, he would have walked straight past it. The perfect hiding place. He pulled the small silver knife from the inside seam of his boot and pierced the edge of the windowsill with the blade. The knife tip found a hole and Tynan wrenched the wood from the wall. The wood splintered and cracked to reveal a lined hole in the wall. Rory’s secret hiding spot. He was the only one who knew about it, he was sure.

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With trembling fingers, Tynan reached out and grasped the single folded piece of paper sitting at the bottom of the hole. Hopefully this would explain what Rory knew and why it got him killed. Most importantly it would give him evidence of who killed him. He read the note. Bile rising in his throat and he fought the urge to throw up. No clues here. I got to them first. I killed Rory and I’ll kill you too. You won’t know who I am until I want you to. Realization will dawn on you and I’ll be the last thing you see before I send you to hell. Tynan balled the note in his fist, the blood from his freshly cut palm seeping into the paper. Rory had known his killer well. And vice versa. Dane’s warning of a rouge venator screamed into his mind. ~* * *~ Fairies took flight against a dark purple wall. Walking past the hall of her apartment, Moon caressed each one. The winged creatures were the larger life-size versions of the ones painted across the kitchen cupboards at the youth club. Her fingers slid along the smooth contours of the wall and she remembered how Tynan ran the tips of his fingers over her creations earlier today. How would those same fingers feel sliding over her body? She blushed and couldn’t look at the fairies without picturing him in her mind. What an enigma the man seemed. His very aura had a fierceness and sensuality that was nearly palpable. The fires of damnation burned in his eyes when he spoke of finding Rory’s killer this morning. She had no doubt he would find the person responsible and heaven help them when he did. But then, a split second later, grief and tenderness haunted those very same fathomless black eyes, when he spoke about his brother. She was used to only a few emotions in her men—greed and lust. It didn’t matter if it was lust for money, lust for sex, or greed for both of them. Superiority and control ruled her world; it’s why she tried so desperately to cut herself off from that mentality but still attempted to keep a relationship with her family. It got to the point when all she really felt was numbness, except when it came to her art and the youth club. And now, a near stranger awoke feelings deep within her that she never even knew were there. His intensity seared her and his hidden vulnerability touched her heart. She traced the outline of the fairy’s wings and finally came to a decision that plagued her since leaving the youth club earlier today. Grabbing her keys from the hall table, she headed for the door before she changed her mind. The night was darker than usual, as if no moon hung in the sky. She looked up and shivered, knowing that the night when the moon reigned supreme over both the day and night was only a few days away. She made a point never to go out on that night, for some reason people were want to get a little carried away for those twenty-four hours.

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Hurrying along the slippery streets, she was thankful for the snow clinging to every surface. The few street lights that still worked reflected off the snow and illuminated the narrow roads. The older districts of town still had most of the original infrastructure in place, though a lot of it was now in decay and needed major repair. Usually she would steer clear of the derelict buildings, but tonight something called to her, urging her onward even in the face of common sense. She arrived at the dingy motel; its fluorescent sign flickered noisily through the silence of the night. Moon swallowed the last of her apprehension and knocked on the door to Number 14. Tynan’s silhouette filled the doorway an instant later. “Moon, what are you doing here?” His surprise at seeing her on his doorstep at this hour was obvious in his voice. She meant to answer him, say something witty, but her voice faltered as she stood staring, her eyesight level with his bare chest. “Come in before you freeze,” he said, stepping back and opening the door wider. Stepping into the darkened room she pushed down a tinge of fear, ignoring the feeling that striding over the threshold would somehow change her life forever. The door clicked shut behind her. “How did you know I was here?” “I went through your jacket pockets when you were asleep last night.” She turned to look at him, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. The light from the outside motel sign shone through the threadbare lace curtains, illuminating his face. He chuckled and although the humor reached his eyes, there was something else there. Something she couldn’t quiet name, though it was starting to make her quiver. “Why is it so dark in here? Don’t the lights work?” “No, I’m used to the dark.” He stepped forward. “You didn’t answer my question, what are you doing here?” Embarrassed heat suffused her face and she was suddenly grateful for the lack of light. What was she doing here? Back at her apartment it seemed so sensible, like the right thing to do. The need to see him called to her and even though she didn’t know why, for once she acted on instinct. And look where it got her. Obviously he didn’t feel the same attraction she did otherwise he wouldn’t need to ask that question. “I don’t really know. I just…” She exhaled. “I’m sorry. I’ll just leave.” With renewed humiliation she looked away, bowing her head, unable to look at those unreadable eyes. Instead she focused on his bare feet and an unexpected jolt slipped through her lower belly at such an intimate sight. It wasn’t unusual to see a man without his shirt on, but seeing his feet somehow seemed much more personal and somehow erotic. She shook her head and went to step around him, intent on reaching the door. He side-stepped, blocking her way. He towered over her, his width just as consuming as his height. Heat smoldered from his every pore and she wanted to reach out to his bare skin and feel his warmth. She 47

yearned to glance up and see if the same passion blazed in those dark fathomless eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up at him. “I didn’t say I wanted you to leave. I want you to tell me what you want,” he said in a gentle tone, the underlying huskiness of his voice captivating her. She couldn’t tell him. How could she say what she wanted, it didn’t make sense. She wasn’t supposed to want a man she met only days ago with such a furious passion. “Look at me,” he commanded. “Tell me what you want.” Moon looked up, the intensity of his gaze frightened her, but the words were out before she could stop herself. “I want you,” she whispered. Desire flashed across his eyes, but he still didn’t touch her. “I need to know, were you and Rory lovers?” She stepped back at the unexpected huskiness in his voice. “No,” she breathed. “We weren’t. Why would you ask such a thing?” “Because I need to know. I want you, even though I don’t deserve you. But Rory was my brother and I’d never—” “Rory and I were just friends,” she interjected. ”He never made me feel the way you do.” “And how’s that?” he asked, seductively. How did she explain the foreign feelings that welled inside her? How his intensity gripped at her stomach. How he looked at her and she felt it all the way to her toes. She rubbed her hand against her body just below her stomach. “You make me burn. Here.” She trailed her hand up the middle of her stomach and laid it to rest between her breasts as his gaze followed her every move. “You make me feel alive. Here.” Tynan growled and stepped into her, pulling her into his embrace. His steady gaze bore into her in silent expectation before he finally claimed her lips. His mouth met hers with the briefest touch, soft and warm, before he leaned back and locked gazes with her once again. Moon brought her hand up to caress his slightly-stubbled cheek and ran the pad of her thumb across those delectable lips. “Kiss me again, Tynan.” She tilted her face up to his until her lips met his, the luscious softness titillating all her senses and still he didn’t take the kiss deeper. She opened her mouth against his and traced the lines of his lips with her tongue. He groaned low in his throat, the vibration echoing through both their lips. Gently she sucked his full lower lip between hers and laved him with her tongue. Warm liquid heat pooled low in her belly and she pushed herself against the full length of him. He tightened his arms around her and she felt his arousal strong and hard against her stomach. But still he didn’t move closer, didn’t caress her the way she wanted. It maddened her, sending her own arousal soaring through her body. 48

Tenderly, she bit his lip before releasing him and trailed her mouth to the thick cords of his muscular neck. He tasted warm and clean, like he’d recently taken a shower. His scent tasted slightly spicy as she licked and kissed her way down to the tattoo that crossed the tawny skin of his chest. Her tongue traced the intricate patterns of his dark tattoo and when her mouth found his hardened nipple, his fingers bit into her back. She smiled against him and wriggled out of his embrace. At first when he didn’t return her kiss, she thought he hadn’t been interested after all. But his slight reactions told her multitudes. He couldn’t hide his attraction to her, his arousal obvious. She walked around him, her hand never leaving his body, slowly trailing her fingers over his tattoo, over his shoulder and around to his back. Hard muscles tensed and she saw his fists clench when she used her tongue to trace the remainder of his art. “I want you, Tynan,” she whispered against his back. Entwining her hand around his rock hard stomach, she lowered her hand to grasp his arousal through his jeans. He jerked and ground out her name. “And I know you want me.” “But I don’t deserve you,” his voice broke on a hoarse whisper. Her heart plummeted at his words. She wrapped her other arm around him, resting it over his heart. “Everyone deserves love, Tynan.” “You don’t even know me.” She pressed her face against his back, needing to have as much contact with him as possible. To feel his warmth against her skin. “You’re right, we hardly know each other. But for some reason, I’m drawn to you, it’s like you’ve awakened this voice deep within me and it calls to me constantly. It only eases when I’m near you.” His muscles bunched as his entire body contracted. She released him and slid around his body to face him again. His expression was stoic but anguish filled his dark black eyes. She cupped his face in both her hands. “I know you’re a good man, Tynan. I can feel it.” He grunted and twisted his face from her grasp, but didn’t turn away from her. She slid her hands down his chest, her fingers burning over white scars that marred the tattoo over his heart. She frowned, not recalling the scars being there when she caressed his chest only moments ago. He hissed and grabbed her wrists, holding them both in his large hands, pressing her palms against him. “Make love to me, Tynan. Silence the voices in my heart that call me to you.” Indecision flashed across his face for an instant before he bent his head and finally claimed her mouth in a mind-numbing kiss.

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Chapter Ten Moon sighed as Tynan finally took control. He pressed his lips hard against hers and she opened without hesitation to allow his slick hot tongue to explore her mouth. His large hand grasped at the back of her head, strong fingers gently entwining in her hair as he pulled her closer. She slid her tongue into his mouth, kissing him back with all the intensity he showed to her. One of his hands still trapped her fingers against his chest; his heartbeat pounded through her palm and sent shock waves of desire all the way to her very soul. She turned her hand in his and used her fingers to caress his palm. He jerked and pushed his body closer into her, and still didn’t break their kiss. He plunged his tongue deep within her mouth and she groaned before he pulled away from her. Desire heated his eyes and they shone the deepest black. Her eyes were now fully adjusted to the darkness and the illumination from the outside light was almost harsh against his dark delectable skin. She lifted his hand and kissed his palm. Tynan moaned and clasped her hand within his and stared at it as if enthralled. Raising it to his mouth, he kissed the tips of her fingers, one by one. Moon barely stifled a gasp when he slipped her finger past his lips and into the moist warmth of his mouth. His tongue tantalized the length of her finger, then one by one, he went on to lavish the same affection on all her fingers. All the while his gaze never left hers. “Such beautiful, delicate fingers that make such wild, spectacular art,” he said, the fires of desire enflaming his eyes. Her heart soared with happiness. They were the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. She smiled, “Would you like to know what else these fingers can do?” His eyes glinted and he nodded. Pushing down the butterflies fluttering in her belly, she removed her hand from his and stepped back, toeing off her ankle boots and kicking them into the corner. The noise of her zipper was loud in the silent room. She threw her jacket onto the old green folding table pushed up against the wall. Every curve stood blatantly obvious through the smooth material of her long black cashmere dress. Her hardened nipples peaked through the wool; she raised her hand and ran her fingers across them. A muscle worked in Tynan’s jaw, his fists once again clenched at his sides. He stood rigid and still as Moon caressed the length of her curves. Her ultra-sensitive skin tingled underneath the wool and when her hands skimmed the juncture of her thighs, Tynan groaned. She turned her back to him, her body nearly on fire with desire. She reached around with slightly trembling fingers and undid the buttons all the way down to the small of her back. Cool air spread across her bare skin and she slid her arms from the confines of the fabric and wriggled out of the dress. She sighed and tilted her head back as the wool

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skimmed over her hardened nipples, making them ache. The dress pooled around her feet, and she stepped out of the fabric, still keeping her back to Tynan. Mirrored tiles adorned the wall, making her reflection fragmented and jagged. She looked into the mirror and locked gazes with Tynan as he stepped closer, mere inches from her back. She cupped her breasts with her hands and thumbed her nipples until the ache bordered on pain. Hunger ignited in his eyes as he watched her and it emboldened her. Releasing her breasts, she flung her head back and arched her back, pushing her bottom into him. Her hands found the juncture of her thighs, she was already hot and wet for him and pushed back into him harder until she felt the friction of his jeans against her bare skin. “Moon,” he moaned. Warm hands encircled her and cupped her breasts, his palms rough against her smooth skin. Shards of desire splintered through her making her fingers slick with her desire. He lowered a hand to cover hers and quickly found her rhythm. His large fingers contrasted with her small ones and she opened herself to him. He squeezed her nipple as he slowly slid a finger into her. She jerked in pleasure, her body starting to scream its need for satisfaction. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts. Her fingers worked with his, trying desperately to find the crescendo she longed for. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. “Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your eyes when you come for me,” he growled in her ear, his hot commanding breath nearly sending her over the edge. The moment her eyes opened, those fathomless black eyes seared her and her entire body splintered into a thousand pieces of pleasure. She yelled out her ecstasy, pushing against the strength of his hand, harder and harder until she was spent. Falling into him, he spun her around. “I’m not finished with you little moon.” She grabbed his head and pulled him down to kiss him hard. The short bristles of his hair tantalized the palm of her hand. He bent low, wrapped his muscular arms behind her thighs and lifted her. Obligingly, she wrapped her legs around his waist, wriggling her bottom against his hands resting there. His jeans rubbed coarsely against her core and she yearned to feel the part of him that throbbed against her. She broke the kiss. “Make love to me, Tynan. I want to feel you inside me.” For an instant, that profound sadness flittered across his eyes, before he masked it. “I intend to. I want to make you scream again, only this time I want to feel you under me when you do.” He lowered his head and trailed kisses down her neck and toward her breasts. She arched into him, wanting to feel his mouth on her. He carried her across to the bed, and she reluctantly released him to lie down. She ran a hand against a surprisingly clean bedspread and breathed in the spicy scent of him and smiled. He stood towering over her as she moved into a more comfortable position. His face was in near darkness now that his back was to the flickering light of the fluorescent outside. His hand moved to waist of his jeans. Gorgeous tawny skin made his rock hard abs so 51

defined that she longed to run her hands along their contours. She sucked in a quick breath in anticipation. He unbuttoned his jeans and slid them from his hard muscled legs. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his arousal, though her belly curled in expectation. He was all male perfection. Flawlessly proportioned and chiseled muscle encompassed the length of his body from the solid width of his chest, sloping in toward a tapered stomach, his thick hard cock and long defined legs. He lowered himself onto the bed, resting his weight on his forearm beside her head. She writhed against the bed as he finally began to suckle her nipple. He laved her with his tongue, and she grabbed his head when he pulled her nipple into his mouth. Moving to lavish attention on her other breast, he slid his hand down her leg. She raised her leg and turned into him, allowing his hard thigh to slide between her legs. She reached down and caressed the length of his thigh; he groaned and pushed against her before he looked into her eyes and kissed her hard. He lifted himself over her, using his leg to open her further. Moon sighed in anticipation and locked her gaze with Tynan’s. She held his face in her hands and searched his eyes as he moved against her and slid into her in one smooth motion. They groaned in unison. Tynan turned his face and kissed her palm, sending shots of pure desire through her. She rocked against him and his eyes darkened before closing briefly. She tilted up again and clenched his pulsing hard cock with her feminine muscles. She felt him shudder and did it again, taking pleasure from her affect on him. Slowly he slid out from her before sinking himself into her until they were totally joined. She gasped, and he continued slowly until they found the rhythm of tenderness. She arched upward at the same time as he pushed down into her, driving himself deeper and she cried out in pleasure. Moon tensed, all her muscles overwrought with pleasure as she strived to find her peak again. Hot pleasure was building, threatening to consume her. Only this time she felt complete, whole and finally at one within herself. Unable to stand the pleasure, she clenched against him again. He moaned and increased his rhythm, following her lead. On instinct, she looked up into heat filled eyes as her screams of pleasure mingled with his moans of passion. As she writhed around in blissful agony, Tynan pushed into her as far as he could and then stilled above her. He held her gaze for a moment before throwing his head back and roaring into the night. Panting, she reached up and pulled him down to her. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, a sleek film of sweat soaked his skin. They were still joined together and she had no desire to have him leave her. He raised himself up on his forearms once again, so his weight easing from her though their bodies still touched. Sated and relaxed she felt safe as his warmth covered hers and her eyes drifted shut. He whispered against her ear, the sound comforting, soothing. She closed her eyes and listened to him, unable to make out his words. They sounded foreign, ancient somehow. Usually he had no accent, he spoke perfect English, but now his voice was hoarse, his brogue thick with the unknown language. It was musical, rhythmic and she sighed with contentment as it gently lulled her to sleep.

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Chapter Eleven Zale stood before the enormous intricately designed stained glass window and glared evilly at the insignia of the Venator Versipellis etched high above the pane. It was a simple black shield with two white interlocking V’s that sharpened into sword points at the top. Simple but highly offensive to him, white on black, good triumphs over evil. It was never that straightforward. The venators were sworn to hunt the shape shifters, to protect the unsuspecting humans from their wrath. Fury seeped through him and brought the beast residing within him to the forefront. His fingernails elongated into claws, and he reached out and slid one down a glittering red section of thick glass, making his own etching within the sacred window. What he wanted was to smash the panes with his bare hands, to tear down the venators’ revered pledge. It made a mockery of everything he’d known and experienced. A malevolent smile crossed his face. He was split into two worlds. One being the head of the very organization that he hated and the other being his true self. But both had their advantages and he planned on playing them to his benefit for as long as he could. He heard the whisper of an intruder and bent his head as if in supplication, his long grey hair covered his face and veiled the extent of his hatred. “Rin.” His voice echoed through the emptiness of the Masonic hall. Instantly, the man came to stand next to him. Rin was of a similar height to Zale and the man’s strength and ability was enough to give Zale pause. Pause, but not fear. Zale feared no man or beast. Rin cleared his throat. “Are you aware that Tynan’s back in the city?” “Yes,” Zale raised his head and looked toward the venator. Rin stood still, appearing relaxed with his hands clasped in front of him and his trademark Samurai sword strapped to his side. Long black hair tied in a low pony tail, not a hair out of place. In all the years Zale had known him, he’d never seen the Japanese hunter anything but immaculate. Even fighting, he was fluid and graceful. To watch him was almost mesmerizing, but also deadly. The man had no conscience that he was aware of, and it was exactly why Zale needed him. “He is yet to contact the brethren,” Rin said. Zale laughed. “I never expected him to. Rory’s death is the perfect excuse for him to get back into the city. Being exiled has made him more unstable then he was. He’s out for bloodshed,” he said with feigned concern, Rin looked at him, no emotion discernable in his eyes, as if the premise of an insane venator wreaking havoc and death wasn’t worth registering. In that moment Zale realized the man was scarier than he was. “How do you know Tynan is out for blood?” Rin asked. “Look at his history. I know him.” True agitation gnawing at him, Zale started to pace in front of the colored window. “He’s always been dangerous but exile has made him lethal,

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unstable. Hell, he doesn’t even kill the shape shifter polar bear they call Dane. Rory was killed by a shifter.” He swung toward Rin for dramatic effect that he hoped wasn’t lost on the man. “How do we know Tynan didn’t set up Rory’s death as an excuse to get back into the city?” “That is unlikely. They were as close as brothers.” Rin said the words with the same lack of emotion he always used when speaking. But Zale caught the flash of rare emotion clouding his eyes for an instant. “And I was his father,” Zale roared, continuing his pacing, unwilling to allow the venator to witness the extent of his hatred toward Tynan. Calming himself, he plastered a look of contrived concern across his hardened features and turned to face Rin. “He must be stopped.” “Summon a blood call for him. He is out of exile and has yet to contact the Brotherhood. You are the leader of the Venators. After Tynan’s betrayal, your word will not be questioned.” Zale creased his brow as if an idea just occurred to him. “No wait, perhaps we could use him. There are more shifters in town with the Dark Moon descending upon us. One more hunter could be useful. He will tear the city apart looking for the shifter who killed his brother.” “He is a most capable venator. His skills will be extremely useful,” Rin conceded. Zale tried to hide his smile. People were so gullible. He hoped to plant the seed of doubt about Tynan’s innocence. It would only be a matter of time before a blood call was issued for him, then every venator would be after Tynan. As leader of the venators, Zale would call for it soon enough, but he needed to bide his time a little longer. And he would make sure to be the first one to get his hands on Tynan. “I want to find out if he has any connection with Rory’s death.” Rin nodded and Zale clasped a hand to his shoulder in a fatherly manner, though Rin’s expression did not alter. “Call Tynan,” Zale ordered. “Meet with him and do whatever you need to do.” Expressionless, Rin nodded again, turned and left the hall. ~* * *~ Tynan stood in the shadows of the motel room watching the light flicker across the soft planes of Moon’s face. She licked her parched lips in her sleep and sighed contently. His stomach clenched in longing and some other irritating emotion he didn’t want to explore right now. He was drawn to her in a way he'd never felt before. Many women had warmed his bed over the years but none had warmed his heart. He’d always yearned for a woman to love, but he didn’t deserve one, not after taking the love of another. He snorted and turned to face the window and watched the intensity of the bright neon lights flicker and burn out. Surely he 54

was just lonely. He’d been living in exile for a long time, maybe he was confusing lust with something deeper. Usually there would be no confusion between the two, but his emotions were too close to the surface, his passions for life and death competing for superiority. Most of the venators bedded humans, but it was the minority in their community who ended up in relationships and without exception it was always with another venator. They weren’t gifted with the curse of immortality, the thought of living his life in the bitter cold all alone for eternity didn’t bode well. But their lifespan counted well into the thousands if they were good enough to keep themselves alive that long. There would be no life with a human. It would be torturous to watch a human mate grow old and die. That’s why venators stuck with their own kind and shape shifters did the same. He knew all the reasons why he should walk away from the woman sprawled across his bed, but his gaze kept roving back to her. Last night when she'd touched him, she'd branded him with her mark. Unable to resist, he walked across the room and stood over the bed. He ran the tips of his fingers down the length of her bare back, her skin cool to his touch. His cell phone shrilled, breaking the silence. He snatched his fingers from Moon and quickly answered. “It’s Rin. We need to meet.” Tynan raised his eyebrows in surprise. He’d never had much to do with the venator, but Rin's reputation was nearly legendary and lethal. “Why would I need to meet you?” “Meet me at the museum an hour from now,” Rin snapped and hung up. Tynan hit the end button and threw the phone on the table. Curiosity mingled with deep-seated dread. What did he want? Of all the people he expected to contact him, Rin was not one of them. Did he know something about Rory’s death? Or did had his brethren called out a blood hunt for him and sent the Japanese hunter to do the job. He heard Moon stir and come up behind him. Her cool, naked arms wrapped around his stomach in a firm hug. He closed his eyes and savored the moment. The length of her naked body molded against his back, soothing his heated skin. She was so tiny she hardly reached his shoulder as she laid her head against him, her soft hair rousing shivers across his skin. “Good morning,” she murmured against his back, her breath sending shock waves of desire through him once again. The craving to take her surged through him with an unexpected fierceness, turning his blood to molten lava. He gritted his teeth and fought to control himself. He didn’t deserve to take her last night; he wasn’t going to do it again. She needed better than him. She’d put so much of herself into their night together; he could feel it. She didn’t deserve to lose herself to him. She dropped her arms from around his waist and stepped back. “You regret what we did last night, don’t you?” He winced as he heard the hurt in her voice. He swung around to look at her and crossed his arms firmly against his chest to stop himself from reaching out to her. “No, I don’t regret last night.” 55

She held his gaze. “Yes you do. I can see it in your eyes.” What he regretted was the fact he finally tasted paradise and couldn’t hold onto it. He regretted having to let her go. Her coat lay strewn across the floor where she discarded it earlier. Reaching down, she picked it up and wrapped it around her, suddenly aware of her nakedness. Her lip twitched. “I feel like I’ve used you.” He strode toward her, took her hand in his and placed it against his chest. “No, Moon, you didn’t use me. You filled a void with your vibrancy and passion that I haven’t felt in a long time.” Her eyes sparkled and she stepped into him. “Thank you,” she whispered with a smile and placed her hand against the roughness of his cheek. Confusion creased her brow, eyes narrowing as her gaze darted across his face. “I just realized the wound on your face has completely healed.” Her thumb caressed the line down his face where only days ago it was a marred bloody mess. “How can that be?” He turned away from her. “How much did you know about Rory?” He needed to know if Rory had let anything slip, anything at all that would help him find out who killed him. It was unlikely she knew anything, but she may have some knowledge without knowing. But knowledge of their world could put her life in danger. Rory knew the rules but he also knew his killer. If his life was in danger, would he have broken the rules and given an innocent woman vital information knowing that Tynan would question her? “Not a lot really.” She fidgeted with the hem of her coat. “I thought I did, but how well do you really know anyone?” The statement hit him hard. He craved to ask her; how well do you know the person you just made love to? If she knew who and what he was, knew the things he’d done, hate would replace the desire he saw burning in her eyes. “I have to go and meet someone at the museum in an hour,” he said gruffly and turned his back to her. “Okay,” she hesitated. “Do you mind if I come with you? I have to meet my parents at the restaurant there for breakfast.” His indecision must have shown on his face and Moon’s delicate features hardened. “I have to go anyway, whether you want to come with me or not,” she said firmly. He didn’t want her anywhere near the venators, especially when he didn’t know why Rin wanted to meet with him. But she was right. She was stubborn enough to go with or without him. At least he could protect her and then he’d leave as soon as she was safely inside the restaurant with her family. “Sure, we’ll leave soon,” he grunted over his shoulder as he headed toward the bathroom. He needed to put some space between them before he once again succumbed to temptation. Soon they would part ways and she would go back to her nice safe life and he would go back to fighting monsters in the dark, alone in the snow.

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Chapter Twelve Eerie stillness blanketed the city. The sounds of their footsteps crunching through the fresh snow ricocheted off the unnatural silence of usually busy streets. A frail sun rose slowly and Moon knew that the crescendo of winter was nearly here, the time when the sun wouldn’t rise at all for a whole day. At least then the days would start to lengthen and brighten both the city and its inhabitants. She zipped up her jacket and huddled into its warmth. Tynan had slowed his pace considerably, and she smiled up at him gratefully. The man was such a dynamic mass of energy his normal walking pace had, at first, forced her to run to keep up by his side. “Aren’t you cold?” She glanced at his jeans and t-shirt hugging his masculine body, his muscles contracting in the cold. “No. Where I come from it’s much colder. This is almost a heat wave.” “Where do you come from?” she asked. “Where hell has frozen over,” he ground out. She looked at him, not sure if he was joking or not. By the look on his face, he wasn’t. Where had he come from? Rory never mentioned a brother. In fact he’d never said anything about himself. From the hard secretive look on his face, Tynan tended to be the same way. She smiled inwardly, remembering the way his shuttered features had disappeared for a while last night when they were together. She hoped she’d touched a part of him, just as he had touched her. “It’s pretty early for a breakfast date,” he said in an awkward tone. “Well, the Standforths eat at only the best restaurants, just before opening time so they don’t have to dine with the riff-raff of society,” she bit out, surprising herself with the rancor filling her voice. “You’re a Standforth? You do come from rich stock.” He looked down at her, his eyes searching. “What are you doing working at a youth club? Shouldn’t you be working in the family law firm?” “So you’ve heard of us, I see.” She crossed her arms and Tynan wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Instant warmth radiated through her, but it wasn’t enough to thaw the cold, hard spot of anger she held for her family. “I went to law school, passed the bar and did the dutiful daughter thing and tried to work at the firm. It was what was expected of me, work my way up the ladder, marry Sebastian, dutifully have children,” Tynan’s fingers bit into her shoulder. “I was expected to do as I was told.” “So what happened?” “I just couldn’t do it. I felt dead inside, lonely all the time, even in a room full of people. I felt like I was in exile.” Tynan stopped for an instant and Moon grimaced. “Sounds stupid doesn’t it?” “No,” he said quietly. 57

They continued to walk, the light slowly beginning to filter through the haze of grey clouds filling the sky. The atmosphere was somber and strange and she had an odd compulsion to make some noise, speak into the silence, to make sure the city was still alive. “So, I left the law firm, my family practically disowned me and Lea gave me a job at the youth club,” a genuine smile crossed her face. “I loved it. I felt invigorated for the first time in a long time. They had an airbrush artist at the club. I gave it a go, and found out I was pretty good at it. Warren, the artist, spent hours teaching me. It turned out his son was one of our kids. Slowly, I started to get work and earn a living and get my life on track.” “And your family?” She tensed. “It took them a while, but they finally forgave me. I think making enough respectable money helped.” She didn’t add the frail bonds with her family were almost shattered again a month ago when she left Sebastian. They’d believed that as long as she married him, there would still be a part of her they could control. But she didn’t want to think about Sebastian, especially when she was here with Tynan. Tynan created feelings within her that Sebastian never had, even in all the time she’d known him. With Tynan she could be herself, it was all she ever wanted. Ironically, the only reason she could be herself with Tynan was because he was a complete stranger. He had no preconceived notions of how she was supposed to act and who she was forced to be. He brought out dormant emotions and she wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with them, except to let them run rampant, even for a little while. It was one of the reasons she went to him last night, it just felt right and there would be no regrets. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind she knew Tynan would be gone from her life soon. And while they were together she would be free with him. To be open and honest with not only her body, but also her emotions was a gift she could give to both Tynan and herself. They walked up the sandstone steps of the museum complex. Lost in her own thoughts she reached the top of the stairs before she realized Tynan wasn’t beside her anymore. She turned and her heart gave a little jolt. He stood two steps below her so that his face now sat level with hers. Deep black eyes seared her, and she had a bizarre desire to never want to let him go. The sadness in his gaze twisted at her stomach, and she knew what was coming. He was here in the city to find out what happened to Rory, and then he would go back to wherever he came from. And she was sure he was about to tell her so. To tell her that what they shared couldn’t last and they needed to part ways. No matter how much she wanted him to stay, she was determined not to be clingy and try to emotionally manipulate him. Her family had done it to her often enough to know how soul destroying that could be. Swallowing her own emotions she leaned in and kissed his lips, placing the palm of her hand against his cheek. “Thank you, Tynan. Good luck with everything you need to do. If you need any help, you know where to find me.” He nodded, and it reminded her of the first time she saw him standing in the back of the youth club at the memorial. With huge effort, she let her hand drop away from his cheek and went to turn. Tynan grabbed her hand and she looked back at him with hope in her heart. 58

A small smile played at his lips, he squeezed her hand and she realized his regret. Squeezing his hand in return she pulled away from him and walked toward the restaurant. ~* * *~ Tynan stood on the steps and watched Moon enter the restaurant. Through the large glass doors, Tynan saw Moon take off her jacket, stiffen her spine, square her shoulders and disappear into the main hall. She walked with confidence, and the way the black woolen dress clung to her curves made him want to rush in there to take her into his arms again. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t have made love to her last night. The longing she ignited within him couldn’t be extinguished so easily, and he was going to have hell living with it. Dragging his gaze from the restaurant, he turned and walked around the perimeter of the building. Most of the restaurant was dark; only a couple of lights shone through the floor to ceiling arch windows. He shifted silently into the trees. Moon and her parents sat rigid and tense at a fully laid out table. He knew her family as soon as she mentioned her last name. Her father played the game of business and pleasure hard. It didn’t make him a bad man, but he was on the borderline. Besides, who was Tynan to decide what made the moral compass of a man. It must have been difficult for a free spirit like Moon to grow up under such regimented rules of a strict and powerful family. Moon had gifted him with that free spirit last night, and he hoped he could keep part of that pure innocent energy with him when he returned to Alaska, the only world that was his existence. Moving deeper into the grove of trees, he tore his eyes away from Moon. She didn’t seem to fit in with her family. He could relate to that, and a protective surge of energy swept through him. Sometimes it hurt to be different and it enraged him that those who were closest to her were blinded to her charms and quirky personality. Completing his perimeter check he stopped at the decorative columns at the front of the museum to meet Rin. What did the venator want? If Rin knew he was in town, then all of them were aware of his presence. That meant they all wanted him dead. He hadn’t gone to the brotherhood. He was out of exile. Out in the open. Hardly a soul ventured out on the street on such a grey morning, but still he felt vulnerable standing here. He scanned the lingering morning shadows before his gaze swept across the building tops and any vantage points a venator assassin would place themselves. All was still, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there watching and waiting to strike. A chill sent warning signals to his brain and every muscle in his body tensed for action. He willed himself to calm down. “What can I do for you, Rin?” he said evenly. The Japanese venator stepped out from behind the museum’s column that Tynan was leaning his back against. “Tynan.” Tynan narrowed his gaze and swept a searching look over Rin. He stood out of arms distance, his stance guarded. Something was missing. 59

“Where is your sword, venator?” Tynan asked. “It has been removed in a gesture of friendship.” He opened his hands, palm side up to show he held nothing in his hands, before placing them behind his back. “Friendship,” Tynan spat out the word. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “No. No jokes. I come here to offer you a deal.” Tynan laughed. “What deal?” “There will be no call for your blood if you will assist the venators with the shape shifters while the Dark Moon descends.” “Why?” Tynan crossed his arms across his chest. “There are more shifters in the city this year than ever before. We do not know why, however, your assistance is required.” Launching himself off from the pillar, Tynan stopped only inches from Rin’s face. “You want me to help you? The same people who nearly crucified me for an accident?” Rin’s face remained stoic. He raised an eyebrow. “It was a rather large accident. You killed Zale’s wife.” Tynan growled deep within his throat, the feral urge to rip the man’s throat out, near overwhelming. As if he needed reminding of the reason he’d spent countless years out in the barren ice cold wilderness with only his guilt and pain to keep him company. “I’m here to find who killed my brother, that’s all.” Rin’s face softened. “They do not know who killed Rory.” “Do you?” “You will either assist us with the Dark Moon, or you will be killed,” he answered, avoiding the question. “It is your decision.” He nodded his head, turned and left. Anger pumped through Tynan. Those bastards had the nerve to ask him for help. He clenched his fists and twisted around, punching the sign showing the way to the museum restaurant. It fell and cracked the ice covering the pavement, the sound echoing through the quiet streets. How dare they ask for his help to kill the shape shifters through the Dark Moon! The organization obviously was doing nothing to search for his brother’s killer, and yet, they expected him to help them. If he accepted and assisted them in the darkest night, would they reciprocate and help him find who killed Rory? Or when the sun rose would they send him back to his own lonely hell? Tynan snorted. He already knew the answer. He’d rather have a blood hunt called for him and at least have a stand up fight before they used him as a scapegoat again. Retracing his steps, he went back around the perimeter of the building, half expecting to find his brethren there ready to take off his head. He stilled at the window of the restaurant where Moon and her parents were still eating. Moon’s face was screwed up in anger, her arms gesturing toward her parents. Though he couldn’t hear their voices, he knew they were arguing. Some of his anger seeped away. He wasn’t psychic, but he’d lived a long life and knew how to read people. She was on the

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verge of tears. It touched him deep in a place he thought was long forgotten. And that was dangerous.

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Chapter Thirteen Agitation heated Moon’s face. Why did her parents always manage to hit the right buttons and make her revert to a bumbling teenager? “Sebastian was perfect for you, Jennifer. You were ideal for each other and I don’t believe you will find another man as respectable in that hovel where you work.” Moon tried to ignore the disgust lacing her father’s voice. But at the use of her old name, red flashes of anger loosened her tongue. “I am not Jennifer anymore. I stopped using that name when you stopped controlling my life.” Her father grunted, “Moon, what kind of an insipid name is that? Ridiculous when you have a perfectly respectable name already.” “Vernon, please,” her mother finally spoke up, her immaculately manicured fingers tensing around her wine glass. “We are here to make peace. To find out how we can help with this little tiff between the two love birds.” Her mother flashed a dazzling white smile and took another swig of her ultra expensive wine. Wine this early in the morning didn’t even raise an eyebrow in her social circles. Moon sighed and tried for a semblance of control. “It is not a tiff and we are not love birds. We’re not together, haven’t been for a while and never will be again.” “And why not damn it?” barked her father. “Because she’s with me.” The deep voice behind her played havoc with her senses. Not quite sure if she’d heard it or not, she refused to turn around in case it was a dream. Her mother’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before her gaze slowly swept up and down. An unconscious seductive smile crossed her face. Her father’s face contorted with barely suppressed abhorrence at their new guest. “And who are you?” “Tynan.” He bent low and placed a chaste kiss on Moon’s cheek. “Darling. Sorry I’m late.” Her brow creased in confusion, and she wanted to ask what he was doing, but being fully aware of her parent’s intense gazes, she plastered a smile on her face and played along. “That’s okay, sweetheart.” Tynan pulled out a chair and dove straight into the conversation. “Moon,” he emphasized, winking at her, “is with me.” “You already said that. Who are you exactly? Another deadbeat from that club she hangs out at?” Her father spoke directly to Tynan, totally ignoring her like he always did. She chose to ignore her father and looked at her mother instead. The sight made Moon flinch. Her mother fingered her wine glass suggestively, openly drooling over Tynan. Her family was such a mess, why she even bothered was beyond her at this moment. Sadness welled deep inside her and she swallowed down hot tears.

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Tynan glanced at her and his face hardened and when he spoke to her father his voice was just as hard. “I’m Zale Saffron’s son.” Her father dropped his fork, and her mother gasped, spilling her wine, the red stain spreading across the pristine white tablecloth. Moon shot him an incredulous look. She had no idea Tynan was the son of the richest, most powerful man in the city. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know he’d had any sons. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Her father hissed at her. “I had no idea Jennifer was involved—” “Moon,” Tynan corrected. “Pardon?” “Her name is Moon. She prefers it.” Tynan sent a hot glance over her. “It suits her.” “Um, yes you’re right,” simpered her mother. “If you don’t mind I think Moon and I would like to finish breakfast alone,” Tynan said as he glanced at Moon’s parents in a dismissive manner. “Of course, we were just leaving.” Her father got up and tugged at his wife’s arm. “Come along dear.” Her parents nodded at her and Tynan and made their way across the empty restaurant. Moon watched them leaving, sad and exasperated at the same time. A warm hand slipped over hers, the affection nearly breaking her resolve not to cry. “They do love you, you know,” said Tynan, squeezing her hand. “To them you’re still their little girl. In their own way they want what’s best for you; they just don’t know what’s right for you. You’re living your dream and I’d bet that scares them because they aren’t living theirs.” A single tear escaped and trailed down her face. Tynan wiped it away with his thumb. Without thinking about it, Moon shouted out. “Daddy?” “Yes, moonshine?” Her father replied automatically, stopping and turning back toward her. His face fell, it seemed to melt all the hardness from his features and turn him back into the father she knew of her childhood. He hadn’t used her nickname for a very long time. She knew the moment when the realization hit him that she’d legally changed her name to what he used to call her in times of love. He stepped forward and Moon got up and ran into his arms. She wrapped herself into her father’s embrace, weeping openly against his shoulder, letting the tears cleanse the pain of the past few years. “Hush ,” her father whispered against her hair, his voice breaking in a way she’d never heard before. He patted her head soothingly and she burrowed herself further into his arms and closed her eyes. Her mother stepped toward them and embraced them both, laying her head against her husband’s shoulder. A wet hot tear fell on Moon and she wasn’t sure if it came from her mother or father. It didn’t matter. 63

~* * *~ Tynan sipped the spicy red wine and watched Moon say goodbye to her parents. She turned and smiled at him across the room. His heart lurched. Her father looked across at him, slight embarrassment lay under his hard shell, but he looked at Moon and his eyes softened. They all hugged and said their farewells. Moon hovered in the doorway for a moment longer, watching her parents leave. She turned and started back toward him when the maitre d’ and a waiter approached her. They talked for a moment before Moon looked over at him and her gaze held his entranced. Her eyes shone bright with the emotion of the day. But there was something else, something that made his heartbeat quicken and his muscles taut. Both the men glanced quickly at Tynan, bowed their heads in agreement, and retreated back into the kitchens. Moon practically sashayed back to him, her mood lighter than he’d ever seen. She bypassed her chair and came straight to his and straddled him, her dress ridding up to expose her smooth, lean legs. Emotion blazed in her red-rimmed eyes and she searched his gaze before leaning down and claiming his mouth with barely suppressed passion. He opened his mouth to her willingly, her mouth crushing to him and he met her passion. He nearly whimpered as she broke the kiss and bent back to look at him. “Thank you,” she said. “Why did you do that?” A spear of regret pierced his heart. “Because I know what it’s like to be alienated from your family. You don’t want that.” “Are you alienated from your father?” Her voice was soft and gentle, but she might as well have screamed the words from the rooftops. The reality of it thumped through him painfully. He couldn’t answer, he just nodded. “I never knew Zale Saffron had any sons.” “Adopted.” It was true, Zale sired him and Rory both. It was a closer bond than adoptive family, deeper than blood. Until betrayal ripped his family apart. He swallowed. Her cool thumb swept over his eyebrow and trailed down his face to trace the outline of his jaw and tantalize the base of his throat. He moaned and she shifted against him, making him instantly hard. He held up a hand to stop her before he reached out and caressed the softness of her jaw. “You’ve had a hard morning, are you sure you’re okay?” She closed her eyes and when she opened them, tears glistened. “Yes,” she whispered. “For the first time in a long while, I’m finally okay.” A bolt of warmth pierced Tynan’s chest, her words thawing his hardened heart. She moved above him and heat coursed through him once more. She smiled wickedly and whispered in his ear. “I don’t have any panties on. I couldn’t find them in your motel room this morning.” He hardened to the point of agony. 64

“We’re in a restaurant you know,” he pointed out. “We’re the only ones in the restaurant,” she said, looking around. “What if a waiter comes in?” Tynan asked. “Live dangerously. I’m told the thrill of getting caught adds to the excitement. Seriously, I told the maitre d’ we would need some privacy.” She smiled ironically. “The Standforth name still carries certain privileges.” He smiled. Pulling her into him as he crushed his mouth to hers, plunging one hand into the softness of her hair and the other to the smoothness of her thigh. She stood on tiptoe and reached for his zipper, her small hand wrapped around the thickness of his shaft and started to stroke him. He caressed her thigh, moving to the hot wetness at their juncture. She purred in her throat and wiggled against him as his fingers found her warmth and met her stroke for stroke. Unable to take it any longer, he grabbed her hand away from his hardness and broke their kiss. He held both her hands in his and lowered her downward. He thrust up in one strong move until he was deep inside her sleek wetness. Her head flung back, revealing the sweet line of her throat. He ran his tongue down its length and thrust into her again. She pushed back. Releasing her hands, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her slight frame against him as they found their rhythm. Slender arms snaked around his chest and she laid her head against his shoulder, her breath panting against his neck. The intimacy nearly sent him over the edge. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to wait for her to reach her pleasure. He held her against him, her heart beating against his. She moaned, her panting faster and shallow. Grunting, she jerked against him and whimpered. “Come for me, baby. I’ve got you.” She let out a cry and he forced himself to keep her rhythm, she tensed against him, kicked out and started to scream out her pleasure. Instantly Tynan claimed her mouth, his kiss muffling her cries. An instant later, seizures racked his body and he buried his face into Moon’s neck. He breathed in her scent and waited for his body to release into her. She held his head to her, stroking the short bristles of his hair. He’d never felt more loved. And it scared the hell out of him.

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Chapter Fourteen Dane narrowed his eyes and scanned the street, his perfect eyesight taking in everything. Icicles dripped from the overhead awning and sparkled in the solitary streetlight. He sniffed and his head swam. There were too many scents in the city. Too many things happening to overload his senses. It wasn’t cold enough here either. He was used to the ice, the inhumane cold. If it wasn’t for the pull of the Dark Moon, if it wasn’t so demanding, he would still be in his homeland. He knew he was different from most of his kind. Yes, the blood urge beat strongly through his veins, feeding his hunger and compelling him to kill. Yes, he was as deadly as most in their world, probably more so. But he was a polar bear and as soon as the Dark Moon was over, he planned on heading back to the packed ice. Polar bears were solitary creatures in nature, the same in the shape shifting world. A part of his human heart mourned that fact. But it was a fact, it was instinct. And instinct ruled supreme. He crossed the road and got a whiff of a nearby human. His stomach growled. Darkness shrouded this side of the street and he used it in preparation to stalk his prey. At least the night was darker, colder, but just barely. He longed for the wide open spaces, the chase and the hunt. Here in the city it was easy pickings. No wonder some of the city shape shifters went soft, they’d lost the instinct of the hunt, while it made him stronger. A ripple of power that was not his, vibrated through his body. He stilled, scanning the street again and stepped back into the darkest shadows. A human man strolled down the opposite street, unaware of the sinister shadow stalking him in the dark. The shadow pounced quick as lightning, trapping the man against the wall of a nearby shop. Dane inwardly cursed as he recognized Zale, the head of the venators, under the lamplight. He only knew him by legend, rumors painting the man as a ruthless leader. Zale grabbed the man’s throat and immediately transformed into a large grey alpha male wolf. Pure shock flowed through Dane. Zale pushed his prey to the ground. The man screamed and was silenced an instant later when Zale bared his fangs and ripped his throat out. The scent of blood hit Dane full force. The bear in him reared its head, wanting to feed and devour. He gritted his teeth and forced himself not to transform. His heart pounded to bursting point with the effort. The ripping of flesh and bone met his ears. Dane licked his lips and could almost taste the kill. Most shifters needed to transform to kill and feed, but there were exceptions. The very powerful could control their transformation to avoid detection. But the majority weren’t that strong. It took a great deal of effort to stay in human form as the scent of blood twisted through the soul of a shifter. It was something that Dane had mastered from an early age. But there were still moments of weakness when the hunger and bloodlust almost overcame him. Dane lived in the wilderness. He was a natural predator and could change at will, but most of the time he had no need or desire to change from his usual polar bear form.

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Dane grunted and cursed his weakness. The wolf’s head snapped around to the shadows, his cold ice blue eyes searching, blood dripping from his mouth, staining the front of his grey coat. His gaze locked onto Dane’s and the wolf growled, baring his yellowing fangs. Dane stepped out of the shadows and readied himself for the fight. Red and blue flashing lights assailed his eyes, a siren screaming in his ears, but Dane dare not take his gaze away from the wolf. To glance away would leave him open and could mean his death. The sirens shrieked louder and still the wolf stood, hackles raised, teeth bared, staring at him. The colored lights flickered against Dane's face, and he saw the movement of the police car as it came into view. The wolf snarled at Dane and dumped the lifeless body of his victim. The huge alpha wolf turned, stretched its legs and disappeared down a nearby alley way. Dane’s gaze followed until the wolf was completely out of sight. The police car came to a halt a short distance away. Dane glanced at it and stepped back against the rough brick wall of a dilapidated building. The police were no match for him, but he had no desire to fight them even though the need for blood screamed in his brain. Confusion at what he’d just witnessed struck him. How could the leader of the venators be a shifter? Did the venators know? It made a mockery of the rules of their world, of all they held sacred. Did Tynan know his sire was an alpha wolf? Dane kept to the shadows of the night with a new purpose in mind. He was going to go and have a little chat with Tynan. ~* * *~ Moon arched the airbrush across the burgeoning breast of the warrior woman splayed out against the wall of the youth club. She swayed seductively to the music quietly coming out of the ancient music system and attempted to transfer some of her passion into the painting. She smiled. Since meeting Tynan, sensuality was only one of many sensations swirling around in a myriad of emotions. After their breakfast in the restaurant yesterday, they’d spent the entire day together and had made love countless times. Last night she lay in his arms and he talked until she fell asleep, hypnotized by the melodic tones of his voice. Today an unusual contentment filled her, though a little kernel of excitement bloomed deep within her heart. Tynan had disappeared throughout the night, but there was none of the usual anxiousness, no feeling of abandonment she always felt when her previous lovers had left. Somehow she knew he’d reappear and that spark of excitement sitting deep in her breast ignited at the idea. It was a ridiculous notion. She’d only known him for a few days, but it was if they were connected, somehow intertwined. She sang along to the music with abandon, happy there was nobody else in the club today. Reaching high up the wall, she stopped, a buzz ripping through her at the sound of the door closing.

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She turned, hoping to see Tynan, even though he said he had work to do today. She stilled. A man, larger than Tynan but with the same aura of danger sauntered through the door, his shoulder length white blond hair almost shinning under the lights. He stopped before her and her back itched, very conscious of the wall behind her. Moon stepped to the side and the open space against her back made her feel even more vulnerable. She craned her neck to look up at him. Eyes blacker than night and with about the same amount of compassion stared at her appraisingly. She swallowed and tried to find her voice. He cocked his head and sniffed. “Are you Tynan’s woman?” Before she could answer, the door swung wide open and Zale Saffron strolled into the room. She recognized him instantly; she’d met the charismatic older man many times at society functions. Only this time there was something feral about him, lethal and oppressive. He walked the length of the hall. Before he got close enough to speak, the man in front of her growled in a most animalistic way, his lips turning into a snarl of hatred. Terrified, she tried to step aside, but the strange man reached behind him and sent her flying backward with one push of his large hand. Sprawled across the floor, she gasped as the air was knocked from her lungs. Moon looked up and saw Zale whip his gaze around to her. He snarled and kept walking. In mid-step, his body elongated and in a blink of an eye, he transformed into a gigantic grey wolf. She screamed. Frantically, she sought out the stranger standing in front of her as if to guard her, and screamed again from the very depths of her soul. A fully grown polar bear stood on its hind legs, growling at the wolf. Her view of reality started to fracture, her mind splintering in an attempt to rationalize what happened. She clutched blindly at her chest, unable to tear her gaze away from the animals. The wolf snarled, baring huge yellow fangs and launched himself at the bear. With a massive snow white paw, the bear swiped at the wolf, knocking it sideways with a whimper. The bear crashed down on all fours and the wooden floor vibrated and creaked under the impact as it stretched out and met the wolf head on. In a flurry of fur, blood splattered. Moon didn’t know from which animal. She covered her ears to try and block out the terrifying, guttural sounds. The wolf snapped at the bear, and fresh blood oozed from deep puncture marks as the bear roared. It was terrifyingly mesmerizing. Moon didn’t know what was going on, her understanding of the world completely obliterated. She scurried backward and hit the wall, unable to tear her gaze from the fight, uncertain who she should be hoping would win this ferocious battle. And what would the winner do to her when they were finished? She should move, run, make her escape while they were distracted, but her muscles wouldn’t obey. The wolf clamped iron clad jaws around the bear’s snout and bit down viciously. The bear hit the ground hard and the wolf snarled. He stepped over the body, the corners of his mouth turning upward in a bloody grin as it stalked toward her. Moon’s heart was near bursting. She sucked in air, but it was no use. She was caught in the trance of the wolf. She stared at him as he came closer, his light blue eyes cold and harsh, the only life in them from the love of the kill. An uncontrollable shudder ripped through her body as the wolf's gaze pierced her.

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The wolf stopped inches away from her face. She held her breath as it bared its teeth at her, certain the end was here. The bear roared from behind the wolf, its huge legs thrusting it forward as it bound toward them both. A massive paw swiped the wolf from behind, sending it slamming into the wall with such force the thin plaster crumbled. The bear moved toward it, readying itself for what Moon was certain would be the final death blow. The door to the club slammed back on its hinges, crashing into the wall. A gush of fresh air made the acidic smell of the blood all the more putrid. All eyes went to the door. Tynan ripped a long broad sword from the length of his coat and ran into the fray. Moon turned and looked toward the bear now standing alone next to the wall. Hastily, she scanned the hall of the club, searching for the wolf, peering into the darkest shadows for the glint of those evil blue eyes. She saw no sign of it. It must have escaped when everyone’s attention turned to Tynan stormed through the door. Tynan stood before the polar bear and twisted the sword across his body, the look of hells fury written across his face. He looked at Moon cowering on the floor and then at the bear, blood smearing his smooth white coat. Tynan raised his sword. “No!” she screamed, scrambling to her feet. Moon ran and threw herself between them, her back to the polar bear. “Don’t. He saved my life.” Tynan didn’t seem to hear her, his furious gaze still locked on the bear. “Please,” she pleaded. Tynan lowered his sword, but didn’t move his gaze from over her shoulder. A rush of energy hit her back and she turned to see the strange man standing there, his wounds the exact same as the polar bear received. Moon felt her mind splinter a fraction more. And the edges of her vision went black and she started to slide to the floor. Huge strong hands caught her around the waist and she slumped into the stranger’s chest. The tangy smell of blood mixed with a spicy but animalistic scent and hit her nostrils. Her senses overloaded and she was unable to process anything else and her eyes slid shut. Tynan’s voice was the only thing that pierced the oncoming darkness.

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Chapter Fifteen “Get your goddamn hands off my woman.” The sight of Moon being caught up in his world angered him and seeing her in Dane’s arms made his blood heat with jealous rage. He wanted her only in his embrace. Tynan dropped his sword to the ground, took Moon from Dane and cradled her gently against his chest. He forced himself to relax the muscles through his arms so he wouldn’t crush her as the adrenaline rush gave way to more foreign emotions. He was scared. Frightened that Moon would be hurt and he couldn’t protect her. But he would take care of Moon, no matter the cost. Even his life. “What the hell’s going on?” he ground out. Moon’s eyes fluttered open and she looked at him sleepily. He watched her already ashen face whiten as realization set in, and her eyes widened with fear. Panicking, Moon pushed against his chest in an effort to be released. Instantly he placed her gently on her feet. She tried to scurry away, and he slid a protective arm around her waist, steadying her and keeping her by his side. Moon moved her mouth to answer him, but no coherent words came out. He tentatively reached out a hand to her, she flinched, but he laid a hand against her cold clammy face. “Moon, it’s alright.” She continued to stare at him with blank eyes. Tynan glanced at Dane. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded. “Zale’s a wolf,” Dane said. Tynan’s head shot up and he focused all his attention on the bear. Dane’s face was a bloodied mass, but his black eyes were as clear as ever. “What the hell are you talking about?” “He’s a wolf. An alpha. Lethal. His urge for blood is strong.” Dane dragged up his black tee-shirt and wiped his face. “I saw him take down his prey earlier tonight and headed over here to tell you.” Pure shock rocked Tynan to the very core. How could his sire be a shape shifter? The very man who taught him and Rory how to hunt their kind was the enemy? He cursed, dropping his arm from around Moon and turned to pace across the hall. His heart was screaming, sending adrenaline through his veins. “How could he be a shifter and keep that secret for so long?” He faced Dane. “I thought you guys could sense each other? Hell, most of the time I can tell when one of you are in the area.” Dane shrugged and pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the stage as he started to inspect his injuries. “The really powerful shifters can disguise their scent. The longer you hide, the easier it is and the stronger you get.”

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Tynan cursed again. He grabbed the sword off the ground and swinging his sword high over his head, he arched the blade and flung it with all his might. It embedded into the opposite wall, its hilt vibrating with the intensity of force. “If he’s a shifter, then his wife would have been one too,” he ground out. “More than likely,” answered Dane. Tynan stopped next to Moon and put his arm around her shoulder. She flinched and he pulled her closer to him. He ran his hand slowly up and down her arm in what he hopped was a reassuring manner. Anger churned in his stomach, but for the first time in his long existence he wanted to hold someone close to him instead of push them away in his fury. “I killed her on the Dark Moon. The place was filled with shifters and venators. I thought I killed her by accident, but I must have taken her out when she was in animal form.” Rage blurred his vision “They made me believe I’d murdered her. I’ve been in exile, feeling the pain of what I did for so long and it’s all been a lie,” he roared. His vision blackened with seething rage and he was almost blinded but for the desire for revenge. Sympathy creased Danes bloodied brow and he nodded toward Moon. “We have more pressing matters, venator.” Moon stood stiff and unmoving in his arms. Her usually bright and shining eyes were slightly unfocused as she stared ahead into space. Tynan sobered. “Moon?” She blinked and shook her head, her eyes refocusing, their depths filled with fierce accusation as she backed out of his embrace. “What the bloody hell’s happening?” Tynan stepped toward her. She held up a shaking hand. “No, don’t you come any closer. There are people turning into animals and trying to kill each other. You’re talking about murder and God knows what else. I don’t know what—” “Moon,” he stepped into her, forcing himself to remain calm for her. The injustice of what Zale did to him sat rancorous in his chest. But fear emanated off Moon in waves, and he had to keep his own emotions in check to stop from sending her over the edge. He reached out and held her face, her jaw working frantically under his hands. He lowered his voice and spoke to her in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “You need to trust me.” “Trust you? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She tried to jerk her face from his grasp. He held tighter and stared at her until he forced her gaze to lock with his. Her bright blue eyes shone with instinctual fear and his heart constricted. “All of this can be explained,” he said softly, using his thumb to caress her face, slowly, hypnotically. He leaned in closer, until his face was all she could see, and whispered. “When you look in my eyes, you know me. Only you know the real me.” Moon nodded faintly, her gaze now glassy and vaguely unfocused again, and he knew he was breaking through. Tynan closed his eyes and released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He dropped his hands, and she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around 71

him. He wanted to curse as she pushed her trembling body against him in an attempt for safety, knowing that her view of the world had shattered. And it was his fault. He should have stayed away from her. But her beauty, her life-force took hold of him and grabbed at his heart and soul. Tynan inwardly cursed his selfishness, now she’d been exposed to his world, a world that would crush her effervescence in an instant. He was determined to protect her, with his life if need be. He owed her that much. Dane jumped down from the stage. “I’m out of here.” “Wait,” Tynan reached out and grabbed his arm as he walked past him. Dane growled, baring his teeth. “Will you stay and guard the place? I need to talk to Moon.” Dane looked at him and then down at Moon held tight in his arms. Tynan saw a strange look cloud the man’s dark eyes before he nodded his assent. ~* * *~ Moon allowed Tynan to lead her up the dark stairs at the back of the youth club, his warm hand engulfing her cold one. He was a near black outline moving before her and an ominous thought flitted across her mind. What if he was one of the sinister shadows that lurked in the dark and was able to turn into the stuff of her nightmares? His hand tightened on hers, and he stilled on the stair above her for an instant, as if sensing her apprehension. She sucked in a shuddering breath and continued to be led upstairs. Her body was now numb from shock, though her mind was racing a million miles an hour. Tynan opened the door to the room she’d led him to the first night she met him. The bright pink sheets were still strewn across the bed from where he’d slept. He released her hand, and she walked straight over to it, sitting down to grab the material and twisting it between her fingers. Her legs trembled as the shock of what happened finally began to register in her brain. She was glad to sit. She didn’t think she had the strength to stand anymore. Tynan paced in front of her, running his hand over the back of his neck. Up here, in the quiet sanctuary of the room she could almost believe that what happened downstairs had been her imagination. But she could feel tension coming off Tynan, and it fed her own. Downstairs, she had looked in his eyes and saw the man who’d made love to her. The man he said only she knew. She desperately wanted to believe that all this had a rational explanation. Wanted to believe him. But did she really know him? How could she believe anything? Everything she ever took for granted as a functional reality had just been blown to smithereens. “I’m sorry,” said Tynan, stopping his pacing to face her. “I didn’t want you to get involved in this.” Sincerity dripped from his every word, and the knot in her chest relaxed. “Involved in what? I don’t understand any of this.”

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Tynan expelled a long sigh and came to sit beside her on the bed. The warmth of him seeped into her. His leg pressed against the length of hers; his muscular arm wrapped around her shoulder. Up here, alone with him, she felt safe and protected instead of the insanity of downstairs. Fear trickled down her spine. She didn’t want to need a man to feel safe, especially when men weren’t always men. She wanted Tynan for who he was, not for what he could give to her. She only hoped that he was a man. “There are worlds within worlds. Humans believe they’re the top of the evolutionary chain. That their world, the one they choose to see, is the only world.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “That’s not true. There are things people don’t understand, don’t see and don’t want to know about. That’s my world. That’s where I live.” “Where hell has frozen over?” she asked, remembering his words. “Yeah,” he laughed before sobering again. “The top of the chain in my world are called Versipellis. It translates to shape shifters. It’s where humans got their myths about werewolves and monsters that lurk in the dark. They are both human and animal at the same time. Like Dane, downstairs. He’s a polar bear and a human. The worst of them feed off the blood of true humans.” She tensed in his arms, his words making their way to her brain. What he suggested seemed incomprehensible. “And that’s where we come into it. The Venatoris Versipellis. The hunters of the shape shifters. I’m a venator. I hunt those who prey on the humans.” She turned to face him. “Why are they here now?” “They’re always here, but the Dark Moon is nearly upon us and it calls to them, making them congregate in greater numbers.” “Dark Moon?” She lived here all her life, and she’d never heard the term before. But then again, she never knew the most influential businessman in the city, Zale Saffron, could turn into a wolf either. “When the sun doesn’t rise for twenty four hours, the darkness reigns and the shifters come out to party. They go into a feeding frenzy, and I don’t know if they feed off each other’s energy or if the magic of the Dark Moon gives them additional powers. But they are always stronger, more vicious around this time.” Moon reached out and ran a finger down his hard jaw line where his open wound festered only days before. “Are you human or not? Is that why your wound healed so quickly?” “Yes, I’m human. But different too. We’re stronger than humans, and we have powers to heal ourselves. We can’t do our job if we’re injured. Some of us have powers to heal others as well. I don’t know how it all works. The venator brotherhood guards their magic well.” A thought occurred to her. “Was Rory a venator?” He nodded.

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“And did a shape shifter animal kill him?” She wasn’t sure why she needed to know, but all of a sudden it seemed vitally important, like a missing piece of a puzzle that had finally been found. Tynan nodded. It was why Tynan was here and why they were after him. And now they were after her.

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Chapter Sixteen Searing agony sliced through Tynan’s mind. He cried out, grabbed at his head and doubled over in aguish. “Tynan, what’s wrong?” Moon’s concerned voice made its way through the fog of his brain, and he felt her small cool hands against his arms. The voice he always tried to block out of his head snarled to life. It had been many years since he’d last heard his sire’s deep vibrating voice; the last words he’d uttered had been damning him to hell. So now you know my little secret. Pity you found out a little earlier than I’d planned. Still, I did have fun this evening and I met your pretty little friend. Tynan grimaced and fought with all his willpower to block Zale out of his mind. I smelled your scent all over her. She seems very tasty. I think I’ll come and get her like you did to my wife? But maybe not as quickly. I do like to play with my food first. Red rage flashed across Tynan’s mind. “Touch her and I’ll kill you,” he gritted his teeth and tried to block off his thoughts. “Get out of my head you bastard.” Zale laughed and it threatened to splinter Tynan’s head. He screamed and fell to the floor on his hands and knees, his chest heaving, a thin film of sweat covering his body. Moon was next to him in a second, her gentle hands frantically trying to find the source of his pain. “Tynan? Speak to me, how can I help?” He groaned and clutched at her small hand, squeezing it for a comfort that he knew he didn’t deserve. Tonight, she’d been thrust into his world—a world of violence and danger. And it was his fault. He should never have come back to the club after that first day. Should never have made love to her. Involved her in his world. Lost his heart to her. He took a shuddering breath and forced himself to be calm, though he felt the increasing worry radiate from her again. He raised himself to kneel on the floor next to Moon and ran a hand across his brow. “I’m okay.” He looked at her. The disbelief of his words was etched across her face. “Come on.” He stood up, her small hand still in his, but she stayed on the floor. He looked down at her pleading eyes, confusion still carved in her face. His heart shattered. She seemed so small and innocent and she’d been tainted by his world. He wanted to take it back. To make her safe again, but Zale was now after her and she had a right to be afraid. Anger boiled deep within him; she didn’t deserve this. Moon’s eyes burned with fire, and she slowly rose to her feet, keeping her gaze locked to his. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed each slightly shaking knuckle before he led her back downstairs. 75

Dane stood by the door leading out to the cold night and Tynan headed straight for him. “I need your help, Dane.” The bear raised his eyebrows in surprise, but merely replied. “What do you need?’ “I need you to take Moon and protect her.” Moon tore her hand away from Tynan’s grip. “Protect me from what? Why would any of them be back? Why would they be interested in me?” Tynan ignored her and continued to look at Dane. The bear understood their world. He knew that Zale would come after them all and wouldn’t stop until he’d tasted blood. If he could torture Tynan by taking Moon, all the better. “Zale has a taste of my blood now. He can track me. It’s not safe for me to guard her, venator.” Tynan cursed. He knew Dane was right. A burst of fury shot through him. He trusted no one else in the city. “I know someone who can guard her.” Dane looked him square in the face. “Do you trust me enough for that?” Tynan narrowed his gaze at the bear he’d known from a cub. Dane was dangerous, one of the world’s most lethal predators. And yes, he trusted him. “You fail and I’ll kill you.” “No kidding,” Dane said, cocking an eyebrow. He smiled, attempting to soften his feature before he walked over to Moon and touched her arm. “Come with me.” Moon yanked her arm away from Dane. “Now wait a second. I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t have a clue as to who you are. Except you turn into a polar bear,” she added almost hysterically. “Moon, go with Dane. He’ll make sure you’re protected. Zale is very powerful. If he gets to you, he will kill you.” Pure fear clouded her eyes before they turned pleading. “Why?” she almost whispered. The very core of his heart finally thawed and splintered, painful shards of regret tearing through his body. They were after her because of him. Because she had opened herself up to him. She not only gave with her body, but with her heart and soul as well. She was his salvation and he was her damnation. He swallowed down the bile rising in his stomach. “Go with him, Moon.” He walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments and inhaling her scent. And then he turned and walked away while he still could. ~* * *~

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The Dark Moon was upon them. Zale’s fever grew more rampant by the hour. Soon he would feast his fill and take blood until he was finally sated. He cursed, smashing the crystal decanter across the gleaming wooden floor. Damn the bear for spoiling his plans and telling Tynan too soon. He smiled despite his anger. It did have its advantages though. When he tracked Dane tonight to the club, he saw the woman again. The sweet smelling woman. Only this time she had the scent of Tynan all over her. He could smell her infatuation with Tynan, not quite love, but the kernel of it sat in her breast. If she and Tynan had the opportunity to spend the following days together, then her love would be full blown and consuming. He could use that. Licking his lips, he thought of tasting her blood before he killed her. It would torment Tynan for the rest of his days. Not that he had that many of them left. When everyone frenzied in the consuming blood lust of the Dark Moon, he would finally have his wife back. The shape shifter resurrection hadn’t been performed in countless centuries, but no other had loved their soul mate more than Zale had loved his wife. And Tynan had taken her away. The familiar dull ache burned him at the thought. But at least now the tiny essence of hope bloomed within him. Soon Tynan would assist in bringing back his beloved wife.

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Chapter Seventeen Moon shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the expensive double doors as if they were a gateway to another dimension. Dane led the way down a plush private corridor toward a luxurious penthouse just above her parent’s multi-million dollar apartment. At first she thought he was taking her home, to her parent’s apartment. Her level of confusion only continued to increase tonight. She faced Dane. “What are we doing here?” “You’ll be safe here.” His voice was strong, almost gravely and she’d try to keep him talking for the entire trip over here. Partially because she needed the confirmation that he was a real person, and partially because she was afraid that if he stopped talking, she would look over and find him transformed back into a polar bear. “If I’m not safe with Tynan or with you, how can I be safe sitting in a normal security penthouse? Surely the werewolf thingies can get in here.” On their own accord the doors opened to reveal a devastatingly handsome albino man. He was tall, though not quite as tall as Dane who seemed to tower over everyone. “They can get in here,” the man said, his voice even deeper than Dane’s. His pale blue eyes were almost translucent and painful to look at. Moon sensed he didn’t want her perusal. But how could any woman not look at this man? She didn’t feel the attraction she felt with Tynan; the mind blowing power that swept her up and made her loose thoughts of everything else on the peripheral but him. But she did appreciate the incredible hard lines of his face, an obviously perfect body hidden under those tight fitting clothes. He had a deadly ruthless air about him that was damn near consuming. Dane placed his large hand against her back, gently guiding her into the apartment. Subtle opulence blended in seamlessly throughout the penthouse. Unlike most people she knew who lived in this building there was nothing here that screamed overt wealth and superiority. Dane and the stranger embraced like brothers, clapping each other on the back, their affection obviously genuine. Dane released him and pointed to Moon. She automatically shrank back a little. “Darius, this is Moon.” Darius eyed her intently, a slow seductive grin spreading across his striking face to reveal perfect teeth that looked a little more canine than most. He picked up her hand, bent his head to her and kissed each knuckle with his soft, hot lips. “Play nice, cousin. Protect her only. She belongs to Tynan.” Her stomach twisted at his words. She belongs to Tynan. How good they sounded. If only they were true. She needed him now, wanted him close. But did he want the same thing? He sent her away with these strangers and turned his back on her with seeming ease.

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“Cousin, you pick one of the deadliest and most hunted men in the city to befriend and now harbor his girlfriend.” Darius shook his head and exhaled a low breath. “Only Zale is a deadlier venator.” “Zale is one of us. He’s a wolf,” said Dane, the venom in his voice sending a chill through her. Moon shivered and stepped away from Darius, his deadly growl almost matching the feral expression on his face. She felt Dane at her back, and even though she hardly knew the man, she reached out for him, grateful for his presence. “That evil bastard has hunted us for centuries and now you tell me he is one of us.” Darius lowered his head, his eyes burning with pale fury. “I hope he comes for the woman. I’d like to have a go at him.” “Keep her safe, Darius. Make sure you mask her scent.” Darius nodded. “You owe me big time cousin.” Dane merely snorted. Moon watched Darius’ expression turn intent. “Don’t take too long. The Dark Moon calls and if she’s here when it comes, all good intentions are out the window.” He winked at Moon, belying the seriousness of his words, and she wasn’t sure whether to be amused by him or more frightened than ever. “I hear you, cousin.” Dane gently clasped her shoulder and spun her to face him. She craned her neck to look up at him. “You’ll be safe here.” Fear welled inside when she realized that Dane was going to leave her here with this strange man, who for some reason she feared more than any of them. She whispered to Dane. “Don’t leave me here.” Darius laughed behind her, true amusement mingling with a hint of a maniacal edge. “He won’t hurt you,” Dane glared at his cousin over her head and she heard Darius snort. He looked at her and smiled. “I’ll be back before he turns. Tynan will have this sorted soon.” The reassuring squeeze of his hand on her shoulder did nothing to ease her uncertainty. Tonight her reality shattered and she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Other than the fact nothing was as it seemed. She wanted to hold onto something real and substantial to keep some semblance of reality. She looked around and everything looked the same but different somehow. She hardly knew Dane, but desperately wanted for him to stay. Tynan had left her in the club without a backward glance. She closed her eyes as her chest constricted at the thought of his turning his back on her, no matter how noble his intentions. And now the only other person she wanted to cling to was walking out the door. She turned to Darius, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from her jacket. She looked up and smiled nervously at him. “Wolf,” he barked at her. She jumped, a sound resembling a squeal slipping from her lips. Heat suffused her face as he turned, chuckling to himself. 79

~* * *~ Everything in here reminded him of Moon. The shabby chair she’d slept on the night she'd given him shelter sat in the corner now lost under a mountain of paper and files. Tynan stopped before the chair and inhaled her scent. Her freshness and vitality filled the cramped, dilapidated office. He turned and tried to pace the length of the office. It was useless. Piles of paperwork scattered the floor, mismatched furniture making the already small office almost claustrophobic. Funny how he’d never noticed it when he was in here with Moon, she’d made the place feel large and alive. Tynan sunk into her chair behind her desk. Images of her filled his mind. Her smiling at him with gratitude at the restaurant with her parents. The look of fire in her eyes as they made love. The look of pure fear this evening in the club. His stomach tightened in distaste; she’d seen more tonight than he ever wanted her to. The first night they'd made love he'd lain awake holding her, savoring the warmth of her body close to his. The idea of staying in the city after he completed his mission flittered through his thoughts. The desire to be with Moon. The vision of a happy life together compelled him. But he didn’t want her to be involved in the bloodshed of his world. The image of a future spent with Moon in his arms and in his heart faded as rapidly as it had entered his thoughts. Why would Moon want a life with a man like him? She epitomized everything he wasn’t. So now he had every intention of sheltering her from their harsh reality. He’d find Rory’s killer and then vanish back into exile. No matter how much the thought of leaving her tore at his heart. Zale had brought her into their land of shadows, exposed her to danger, and Tynan would make sure he paid. Tynan shook his head as disbelief mingled with the distaste of his world. Zale was a shape shifter. He couldn’t understand why nobody had figured it out before now. It raised more questions than he was willing to face. Did he kill Rory? They said an animal killed him, but Rory would never let a shifter get that close to him. Unless he didn’t know his killer was a shifter. The understanding that Zale killed his brother flitted through his mind before he dismissed it. He knew it to be true. Hot rage ran through him, and he clenched his hands to stop himself from tearing the office apart in fury. He had been hunted, exiled for killing Zale’s wife, but she must have been a shifter as well. It was the only explanation. He’d killed her on duty, not as the murdering careless accident he’d been led to believe. Tynan took a deep breath and forced himself to steady his breathing and calm his thoughts. For the first time in what felt like forever he tried to open his mind to Zale. To let the one voice he’d tried to block out, in. Laughter echoed through his mind as Zale chuckled at his attempts. His sire knew him too well. Tynan cursed, the scars across his chest burning, reminding him of the day his father had inflicted them on him. 80

He had to get to Zale before he got to Moon. Tynan didn’t want to see her dead. To be the food for a beast. Searing pain assailed him at the thought. His stomach clenched and he ached to hold her. He wanted to protect her, wrap his arms around her tiny frame, and let her strength and vitality recharge him. Feelings that had been long since buried surfaced, and he didn’t know how to handle them. They sacred him more than anything else he’d ever encountered. And all because of a purple-haired, spirited pixie. Tynan needed to stop Zale before he killed the only woman that had ever meant anything to him. The only woman Tynan had ever loved. Slipping his cell phone from his jeans, he called Rin, still unsure whether he should trust the venator or not. He knew very little about Rin, but he had to try and convince his brethren one at a time. And he had to start somewhere. It wouldn’t be easy for his brethren to believe him—an exiled murdering lunatic whose only other witnesses to his claim were a polar bear and a mortal woman.

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Chapter Eighteen Moon’s mind continued to spin out of control from all that had taken place tonight. Too much information bombarded her brain and refused to be processed. For most of her life she’d lived in this apartment building, and she thought she knew everyone, at least by sight. But she’d never met Darius before. She was sure she would have remembered him. It wasn’t like he was easy to forget; his very presence seemed to emblaze itself straight into her brain. Anyone would recognize the man was dangerous. That’s if he was a man. He’d mentioned turning earlier, and a shiver ran down Moon’s spine at the thought of what he might transform into. He was animalistic enough in human form. She sat perched awkwardly on an antique chaise lounge that probably cost over a month’s salary for her, unsure as to whether she should be making small talk with Darius. What exactly did you say to a man like that after the night she’d had? “So Jennifer, would you like something to drink?” She reeled, jumping to her feet in surprise. “How do you know my real name?” “We’re neighbors. Your parents live two floors down. Your ex-fiancée lives three floors down. Your—” “Okay. I get the picture.” She ran a hand through her hair and was forcefully reminded of Tynan doing the same thing earlier that night. “I feel like a stranger in my own world. Nothing’s real. I’ve lived here all my life and now people I’ve known for years are turning out to not be people at all.” “Life’s strange, baby.” He walked over to an intricately designed decanter and poured a generous amount of rich amber liquid into two crystal glasses and handed her one. She downed it in one hit, welcoming the fiery burn, and he went to get her another. “This is all so hard to take in. I mean next you’re going to tell me my parents turn into bats or my ex is a were-dog.” Darius’ hand stilled for an instant before he handed her the glass, his face harder than she’d seen yet. A strange tingling sensation filled the room, something unspoken sat heavy in the air. Then he shook his head in another very animal-like manner and offered a devastating smile. “I’ve met your ex and trust me, he is a dog. Sit and relax, you’ve had a big night.” She narrowed her eyes at him trying to figure out whether his off handed remark held any deeper meaning. But she didn’t look too far; she already had enough to process. The least of which were her feelings toward Tynan. She’d only known him for a few days, and yet in those few days her world had changed. He’d changed her. He accepted her the way she was, allowed her to see her heart and act upon its desires. She doubted that she would have gone to any other man’s motel room in the middle of the night. And she’d be eternally grateful that she had. But what if that eternity wasn’t as long as she expected? His world of violence and bloodshed scared her, and she didn’t know if she could live with the continuous fear. Or if he’d even want her to.

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She sat back down on the lounge, swirling the half empty glass of brandy, using it to cling onto something solid, something real. Darius sat down opposite her, his leather booted heel resting against his leathered muscular thigh. He stared at her appraisingly, head cocked to one side. “You love the venator, don’t you?” He asked, curiosity lacing his words. Would it do any good to lie under his intense scrutiny? Probably not. “Yes, I think I do,” she admitted “You do. I can smell it on you.” He drained his glass, shocking her when he reached for the decanter and raised it to his lips. “Why?” “You sound like love is a foreign term to you.” “It is. My kind are incapable of love and emotions, apart from death and blood lust,” he sneered, sadness tainted his tough words before he took a drink. “I don’t believe that. I saw you embrace your cousin, there’re feelings there. You’re helping me, even though you don’t know me. Surely that counts for something.” She looked into his pale, moonstone eyes and saw hope flicker before he shielded himself. “That’s kinship and survival. I do him a favor, he does me a favor and so on down the line. I could kill you on the spot and feel nothing an hour from now.” He looked at her, almost daring her to be terrified. She pushed down her fear because she knew his words to be true, there was no doubt he could kill her in an instant. “But you haven’t killed me yet. And I believe there’s more to you than you ever care for anyone to know.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, it can be our little secret. I won’t tell people you have a heart, if you don’t tell people that I need a serious psych evaluation because I keep seeing people change into animals before my eyes.” His lips curved upward, not the practiced amusement he’d previously shown her, but in a genuine smile, and it changed his entire aura. Some woman would be a lucky indeed if she could win the heart of this one. Or Dane. He’d protected her, hid her and shown her nothing but kindness. She wondered if the shifters ever found love in their world of hatred when they were capable of such tenderness. Darius turned out to be very pleasing company. Gradually she settled down and the nervous knot in her stomach started to ease. They sat opposite each other and chatted for hours. What choice did she have? There was no escape, and she had the feeling Darius would stop her before she even made it off the couch if she tried to make a run for it. Besides, where would she go and what would she do? The whole night was out of her depth, and even as the rational part of her brain screamed that this man was dangerous, she was lulled into an odd sense of security with him. Conversation with Darius was a surprise. He was intelligent and quick witted, and she was reminded to never take people at face value. She almost laughed, after tonight that old cliché would be deeply implanted in her psyche. Darius had made it three quarters of the way through the decanter and seemed as sober as the moment she’d entered. He looked relaxed and Moon almost forgot his earlier deadly 83

aura. Then the decanter slipped through his fingers and exploded into a thousand shards across the floor. Darius’ entire body stiffened and he went to his knees. Instantly blood stained the wooden floor boards as the glass shredded through his leather pants and tore into the flesh of his knees. “Darius?” He jerked and she rushed to his side, placing a hand against the firmness of his shoulder. Darius growled at her and she flinched but tried to ignore him, feeling him shudder under her hand. He threw his head backward, agony etched across his face and fell to the floor. Stiffening again, he fell limp and surprised her by relaxing against her hand. Panic welled within her, unsure of what was happening. The uncertainty of what he would transform into kept playing in her mind. But he was obviously in pain, and she couldn’t leave him. “Come on, try and get up on the lounge, you’re cutting yourself on the glass.” Groaning, he lifted himself onto the chaise, her hand still firmly on his shoulder. “What happened?” she asked, sure he would flick off her hand and ignore her compassion. To her surprise, he answered her. “The shape shifters have a reincarnation ceremony. It hasn’t been done in centuries because it’s too dangerous. The person comes back, but they aren’t really themselves anymore, and the person calling them back practically sells their soul to do it. Very few ever do it. But someone is calling on the powers now. All the shifters can feel it. We are being summoned to shed as much blood as possible.” She wondered who would want someone back that much they would sell their soul for it. An image of Tynan crossed her mind. Would she go to such extremes to get him back if he were lost to her? She honestly didn’t know. But one thing she did know, she was certain Tynan wouldn’t want to live such an existence. “There has to be a blood sacrifice of the person who originally took the dead person’s life if the reincarnation ceremony is to be successful,” Darius said, cutting through her thoughts. She heard the hesitancy in his voice. Suddenly she didn’t want him to go on, wanted to tell him to shut up and not utter another word. His eyelids fluttered shut and by the way his eyes moved rapidly beneath the skin, she knew he saw something. “What is it? Who needs to be sacrificed?” “Tynan,” he answered. She dropped her hand from his shoulder and clasped her arms over her waist. Did Darius see a certain future or was it subjective and not merely what was to come? Did Tynan know he was in danger? Tynan had walked into her life and changed her forever. She wasn’t ready to let him go.

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Chapter Nineteen The security guard hovered at the back of the room, eyeing Tynan “Closing time in five minutes, sir,” he said before ambling off to check the rest of the museum. Tynan stepped in closer to the painting, knowing that the alarm system was only for show in such a small museum. He ran his fingertips across the rough paint against the cheap canvas and remembered when the artist created the landscape. It had dried hard and cracked, but when the paint was fresh, its liniment smell had filled the tiny artist studio and had made a mess everywhere. Tynan smiled. One of the advantages of living a very long life was the people met and the skills learned along the way. The artist had become famous beyond the small village he lived and worked in his entire life. He had tried to teach Tynan and Rory the skills of the brush. Rory had tried out his own master piece on a scrap piece of canvas while Zale had stood in the corner guarding them all. Tynan cursed. The happier the memories, the more pain surged inside him. He dropped his hand and headed toward the next painting in the museum. If the staff knew he’d been touching the paintings, he would have been thrown out without ceremony. “Stunning painting,” said a voice behind him. One he instantly recognized. “Yes, it is.” He stared at the bright, vivid colors of the modernist painting, reminding him not of a time long gone but of a beautiful woman in the here and now. This painting was much like Moon’s art work, full of life and passionate. Innocent. Like the very woman he was falling in love with. Tynan turned to Rin. “Zale’s a Versipellis.” Rin said nothing. He stood there, emotionless. As if he were carved from marble like the statue standing behind him. Unlike the other day when he met the venator, this time Tynan noticed Rin had his Samurai sword strapped to his side. “He’s an alpha wolf,” Tynan added. “I do not believe you,” Rin said. Tynan ripped open his buttoned shirt. Four white hot scars ran the length of his chest, all the more noticeable against the darkness of his tattoos. “This is what he did to me. I got it the night of his wife’s death. I thought he attacked me with a weapon. But now I realize that he made these with his own claws.” “This is very unbelievable.” Tynan bit down his frustration, he knew it would be hard trying to convince any of the brotherhood of the truth. Zale was revered as the leader of the venators. He had hidden his deadly secret well. Tynan tensed as Dane walked in behind Rin. “I saw him transform and tear out a man’s throat,” Dane said.

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Rin whirled on the spot, his sword swinging silently in a graceful arch before Tynan could blink. He stepped forward and grabbed Rin’s arm. The venator turned his head and snarled at him. It was the first real show of emotion he’d seen from the man. “Put aside your weapon, he’s with me.” Tynan gripped Rin’s arm hard, trying not to exude too much force. He didn’t want to have to fight the venator; he needed and wanted him on their side. “Zale suggested you are in collaboration with the Versipellis,” Rin stared at him with distaste in his eyes. “Perhaps he was correct.” “No, he’s the one who’s playing everyone,” Tynan narrowed his eyes. “And you know it, don’t you.” Rin glared at him and lowered his sword. As soon as Tynan released him, Rin sliced the blade of his Samurai across the inner part of his own elbow. Blood flowed into a darkening stain against his black sleeve. Shocked, Tynan made a grab for the razor sharp sword, but Rin stepped back from his grasp and sheathed the sword into its casing. Rin looked up. “Once a sword is unsheathed, blood must be drawn by it. If not your enemies then your own.” A chill ran the length of Tynan’s spine, and he exchanged a quick glance with Dane, who looked as incredulous as he felt. “We’re not your enemy. Zale is.” Tynan turned to Dane. “Is Moon safe?” “She’s with Darius.” “What?” Tynan grabbed the bear by the throat. “Darius is insane. He’s more likely to kill her than protect her.” Dane continued to stare at him, undeterred by Tynan’s grip. “He gave his word. Just as I give you mine. She is safe with Darius.” Tynan grunted and dropped his hand, red welts instantly appearing against Dane’s throat. A worried look crossed the bear’s face. “There’s something else. I felt it on the way over here.” Dane looked at Tynan and Rin and a familiar feeling of dread seeped over Tynan once again. “By now all the shape shifters in the city, probably beyond, would have felt it. Zale is doing a Versipellis reincarnation to get his wife back when the Dark Moon falls.” Simultaneously, Tynan and Rin cursed. “Now everything makes sense. The bastard must have killed Rory to get me to come into the city so he could do the ceremony. The son of a bitch planned it all,” Tynan said. Rin looked at Tynan. “Why would he do that? He could have tracked you out in exile and captured you there and preformed the ritual.” “Not his style. Not dramatic enough,” Tynan answered. Dane rubbed at the marks across his throat and turned to face Tynan. “You do know he’s going to try and kill you, don’t you?”

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“Yes,” he replied. “But I have to get to him before he gets to Moon.” The thought of Zale using him to reincarnate his wife was abhorrent. But not as repulsive as the monster getting his hands on Moon.

~* * *~ The sun set for the last time in twenty-four hours and the time of Dark Moon bloodshed had finally arrived. Zale allowed the blood lust to rise within him, unwilling and unable to mask it this year. It heated his blood and heightened his instincts. This year would be special. This year he would extract revenge, get his wife back and feed. Gorge, devour and feast out in the open for the first time ever. He reached out with his senses and tried to find the scent of the woman, that sweet innocent passion that now intermingled with Tynan’s. He wanted her before the night was through. He wanted a taste of the woman before he settled into life with his wife again. Not that his wife wasn’t ever partial to a piece of sweet flesh before a feast. But he wanted her for himself, to take his time with her so he could relay every single torturous second to Tynan through their mind connection. That way Tynan could feel what he felt, see his woman writhe below him and hear her screams of passion die into screams of agony before he took her blood. Enraged heat swept over him. He couldn’t find her. They hid her well. No matter, the thrill of the chase was as sweet as his certain victory. Zale closed his eyes and concentrated. Perhaps he would go directly after Tynan. There were many ways to coax information out of a man when he knew his weak point. Zale smiled. The youth club would be full of fresh meat by now. Everyone was out enjoying the festivities the Dark Moon brought. The humans were unaware of its significance, but they saw any excuse for a party, and it suited their world just fine to have more stupid drunk people roaming the streets vulnerable to attack. Tonight, he would rip through them all. Tear at them with a renewed vigor that he hadn’t known before. All his life he’d been hiding, forcing down the part of him that craved the passion of blood. He’d allowed himself go out and gorge throughout the years, but never to his full capacity. Nobody had ever known his secrets. Except his wife and the game of it turned her on, excited her into a frenzied passion. So much so that she took on the masquerade herself. His wife would tease him mercilessly, whispering of blood and heat, of death and desire when they were out in public, and he could do nothing but push down the wanton desires that came so naturally to him. Soon he would have her back, and she would rule by his side in the open. They would just have to find another game to play.

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Zale crossed the darkened road, not bothering to keep to the shadows. In wolf form, nobody knew who he was. The youth club already pumped with the sound of music, heartbeats, and the unbridled passions of the young. Tynan would come. Zale would finally open their mind connection, and he would call to his son. Reach into the very recesses of his mind and find out where he hid the girl. And if Zale were in the mood, he would show Tynan what he was going to do to her once he found her.

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Chapter Twenty Moon sat next to Darius on the lounge, feeling a strange kind of bond with him. He had recovered, but a sense of agitation still sat with him. His black leather pants were still ripped ragged and stained with blood but the cuts to his knees and palms had completely healed. She glanced at him quickly, before fidgeting with her battered pink wrist watch. “Got somewhere to be?” he asked. “There’s a party at the youth club tonight,” she shrugged. “After everything that happened today, I wanted to cancel it. I’m scared for the kids. But I’m stuck here, and it’s nearly time for it to begin.” “I know it’s nearly time,” he said through gritted teeth. He flexed his fists on his lap, the muscles of his forearms rippling with tension. Reaching for the phone, he dialed, giving Moon a quick glance. “Dane. You need to come get the woman. Now. I can’t hold it much longer.” The familiar rush of fear started to sweep through her. Darius was starting to get edgy, his agitation much more prevalent. He jumped from the lounge and stood with his back to her, his shoulders hunched with tension, upper body rapidly rising and falling in rhythm to his now nearly panting breath. She half rose from the lounge and edged her way off the end, stepping to the side so she wouldn’t be standing directly behind him. Something told her he wouldn’t take kindly to being surprised from behind. Her stomach clenched and the most basic instinct of flight or fight kicked into gear and screamed through every cell in her body. His jaw locked so tight, she could see his muscles straining, every plane in his face rigid. He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. She realized he was fighting something, and her terror increased. He faced her, regret evident in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Jennifer. I can’t fight it anymore.” He growled and threw his head back, the tendons running down his neck taut as he pushed his chest out and nearly howled. She knew he was going to change and she had nowhere to go. Nobody to protect her this time. Blind panic seized at her, freezing her to the spot. Darius doubled over in agony as he seemed to fight his pain. His hands hit the floor and an instant later they morphed into paws. She looked up and her eyes focused on a huge sled dog. But he was unlike any Husky she’d ever seen. Huge, muscular and terrifying he lifted himself to his full impressive size and raised his hackles. White and grey fur perfectly matched the coloring of Darius’ long thick human hair. The same powerfully built strength and tension, evident even in animal form. Pale blue eyes pierced her, and she briefly wondered if he could recognize her, if he were partially human in there. Or was he purely primal? He bared sharp teeth in a snarl and growled from low in his throat.

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It sounded like a warning. It was one she’d heed if she knew what to do. Every instinct wanted her to run and it also made her stay frozen to the spot. She planted her feet into the plush pile carpet and stared, transfixed by his eyes. She took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm her breathing and quiet her heart. Darius snarled again and she held her breath. He padded his way with deathly silence to stand directly in front of her. His hot breath heated her as he panted and sniffed, only inches away from her legs. He snarled, gnashing his teeth, and she whimpered. Darius threw his head back and howled. The sound pieced her body and echoed through her mind. She tried to suck air into her lungs, panting and still attempting to be silent. All her muscles seized and she stood rigid. Darius circled around her legs, his fur soft and warm, before he headed for the front door of the penthouse. She heard the scratching of claws against wood, and her heart nearly burst in her chest. A click and then no other sound followed. After an eternity of silence she was afraid to turn around and afraid not to. She needed to know if he were still behind her. Drawing upon her courage she forced her muscles to cooperate and looked behind her. The door stood open with no sign of Darius, either in human or dog form. Tentatively, she compelled herself to see if he were anywhere in the apartment. He was nowhere to be found. She ran to the door and slammed it shut, leaning her back against it, forcing herself to calm her breathing. He’d gone. She was safe for the moment. But why did he change? And why did he not attack her? She saw the desire to do just that in his eyes. The desire—and the bloodlust. Whatever the reason, she would be forever grateful that he didn’t. She screamed in surprise. Her mobile vibrated in her pocket a second before the musical ringtone rang out. With shaking hands, she flipped open the phone, her heart soaring in hope that it would be Tynan. “Hello,” she said, her voice shaking as much as her body. “Where are you? The party’s started. The club is really packed tonight,” Lea’s voice was barely discernable over the beating of the music in the background. “Moon? Are you there?” “Lea, you need to stop the party. Get everyone out of there. It’s not safe,” she gripped the phone, trying to will her sense of urgency to the woman on the other end. Moon winced, moving the phone away from her ear as Lea’s scream of terror hit her ears. “Lea, what’s happening? Lea?” She heard more screams of fear and pain and then the music stopped, and Lea spoke once more. “Oh my god. Moon. There’s a wolf in here.” ~* * *~

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Tynan pulled the stiletto from his boot and slid it up the length of his sleeve, readying himself for the fight he knew was inevitable. If Zale planned to reincarnate his wife, it was going to be a very long night. He had no doubt Dane was right, the only question now was, where would he hold the ceremony? He had to stop Zale no matter what. He turned to Dane and stilled. The man looked fierce, the animal in him bursting to be released just below the surface. “The Dark Moon is upon us, Tynan,” Dane ground out through gritted teeth. “I know.” Tynan grabbed Dane’s shoulder and squeezed it tight. “Hold it together for a while longer. Don’t change, my friend. I need you in human form. I need your help.” Dane closed his eyes in pain, the effort of keeping his form suppressed etched across his face. He nodded. Tynan released him and faced Rin. The venator stood with a hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes seized on Dane. “Rin, I need your help. We have to stop Zale from—” Piercing pain racked Tynan’s mind, and he doubled over, his hands hitting the cold marble floor. He bellowed out his anguish, the stiletto slicing through his bicep as he hit the ground hard. “Tell me where your woman is.” Zale’s voice ripped through his mind, clear and strong. The voice he successfully blocked off for years now had free reign of his thoughts and emotions. Tynan rose to his feet and forced his mind into blankness. He couldn’t allow Zale to know where Moon was. Her safety was imperative on his ability to close off his thoughts. Moon’s image flitted across his mind, her innocence, her love, her fear over being flung into their world. Moon being left with Darius for her safety. Tynan cursed out loud. Zale growled in disgust. “You leave her with that feral animal, but don’t trust your own father? I’ll go visit her after I’m done at her pretty club,” he taunted. “There’re too many appetizers to pass up here.” Tynan snarled and forced himself to remain standing as Zale broke the connection with his mind. Damn it, why did he have to be so weak. His uncontrollable emotions for Moon were now her downfall. Tynan had to get to Zale before he got to Moon. “Zale’s at the youth club,” he informed Dane and Rin. “As the bear said, if you go there, he’ll kill you,” Rin said succinctly. “Not if I kill him first.” “Make it quick. With the Dark Moon and Zale’s reincarnation ceremony calling to all the shape shifters, I can’t hold human form much longer.” Dane stared at both of them. “And I’m more than likely to try and kill you both than to help you.” “What’s new? You’re always trying to kill me,” said Tynan. Rin’s knuckles whitened on the hilt of his sword. 91

Chapter Twenty One Dane gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay in human form. The force of the Dark Moon rushed fiercely through his veins. He wanted to rip, tear. He wanted to devour. The pull of it almost consumed him. Digging his fingers into the soft leather car seats, he grinned stupidly. Rin drove his slick black Corvette with Tynan sitting in the front seat, twirling his deadly stiletto with the look of murder on his face. If they hadn’t been so preoccupied, they might have realized they were both sitting with their backs to a lethal shape shifter. He could shift and kill them in an instant. The thought whipped the smile from his face. The urge to do just that crashed through his brain. Why he didn’t act on that urge perplexed him. He knew what he was and made no apologies for it. So why didn’t he give into the call and simply take what he wanted? The question did nothing to calm the churning deep within him. They screeched to a halt in front of the youth club. Rin slid out of the car, his moves fluid and his sword unsheathed even before he stormed through the front door. Tynan was there half a second later, the silver stiletto glinting dangerously against the length of his forearm. He knew first hand just how much pain the man could wield with the small blade. Noise assailed him as the door opened. Screams of pain and fear repulsed his human emotions. The growls of the hunters, the sounds of them tearing through their victims fed his animal instincts. He breathed deep in an attempt to stay in control and wished he hadn’t. The smell of the blood, the scent of fresh flesh proved too much. The animal within came to the forefront, its roar growing stronger. His heart quickened in an attempt to pump huge amounts of blood and adrenaline though his body as it instantly morphed into bear form. Dane growled and breathed in the smell of battle, fear and flesh. The human part of him slipped into the background, further than it had for a long time. Pure instinct fought for supremacy and won. He bounded into the club, the thickness of his fur brushing the edges of the door, and searched the scene for his prey. He registered the venators battling his brethren and stepped over to help, still unsure which side he would choose to fight on. Standing on his hind legs, he stilled and sniffed the air. Beneath the fear and blood something called to him. He scanned the room until his saw it. A woman. Alone in the corner, cowering against the wall with a mobile phone to her ear. Fear came off her in waves, her gaze seared to the gruesome scene in front of her. But something else emanated from her. It called to both the animal and human in him. He stepped toward her, side stepping the bodies and the battles all around him. He stopped slightly away from her, and still he towered over her with his massive size. Her head rose slowly and she let out a little whimper.

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“There’s a polar bear in front of me,” she whispered into the phone, her gaze wide and petrified, She stared at him, her brown eyes filling with confusion. “His name? Dane?” A low growl sounded next to his leg and mingled with the woman’s terrified scream. A wolf snarled at her, thick red blood dripping from its bared teeth. It launched itself toward her and Dane swept a huge paw across its path, the impact sending the wolf flying into the opposite wall with a dull thud. It lay lifeless against the wall. He glanced down at the woman, felt the rush of her gratitude roll over him. He threw his head back and roared as fire swept through his veins. The roar turned into a scream as he turned from a bear back to human, shocked that the woman’s emotions overrode the lure of the Dark Moon and his animal instincts. He fell to his knees and she dropped the phone and cautiously reached out a trembling hand and touched him, her fingers instantly branding him, “You can’t be real,” Her voice was laced with a blend of shock and hysteria. He stood and swept her trembling form into his arms. He needed to get her to safety. For reasons he couldn’t understand, she was now his main concern. ~* * *~ “Lea! Are you still there?” No answer. Moon threw the phone across the room. Panic raced through her, mingling with adrenaline until her heart pounded ferociously. She stood in the middle of the room, her eyes searching frantically for some help. She didn’t know what to do. She’d been sent here for her own protection. Darius had left, and even though he was no longer a threat to her, he could no longer protect her either. Should she stay here and selfishly consider her safety above all else when she knew the shape shifters were attacking the youth club? No. She turned, gathering her courage as she ran out the door. She needed to get to the kids. Nothing else mattered. The streets were in carnage, emulating the devastation she knew was occurring at the club. Hastily she stepped back into the shadows, trying to avoid detection. Desperately she searched the street; not a car was in sight. Her stomach turned as a dark silhouette streaked between the buildings opposite her and a blood curdling scream rent the air. Her heart near bursting, she turned and ran toward the club. It was only a couple of blocks away, down a couple of dark alley ways through the shady end of town. She avoided them when she could, although nothing lurked there. Those that prowled the dark were all running rampant in the streets…at her beloved club…killing the people who’d come to mean so much to her. She sobbed and slid on the ice, burning the length of her leg as she fell. The remnants of a bloodied body lay in the gutter next to her. She closed her eyes briefly but the image wouldn’t leave her mind so easily. Getting up, she stiffened her resolve and ran the rest of the way, trying to swallow her fear as she arrived at the club. Part of her wanted to run and hide, but she couldn’t. From the outside she could hear muffled sounds that could be 93

mistaken for the party that should have been well underway. But all her instincts screamed in fear at the reality of what was truly happening. Horror met her when she opened the door. Her stomach churned, and she nearly lost her nerve. Both humans and animals were covered in blood, some fighting, some already gorging on human flesh. A few bodies of slain animals and humans scattered the floor. A young teenage boy stood in the middle of the fray, petrified to move. Without thinking, she moved toward him and grabbed his shoulder. He jumped, his eyes wide and unseeing. “Come with me,” she ordered, pulling him back toward the door and pushing him out into the night. She wanted to leave with him, but headed back into the club to search for any other kids. She wouldn’t allow innocent children to be slaughtered when she could help them. Sliding along the outside walls she grabbed hold of those who were hiding or wounded and herded them toward the door. She turned and scanned the club, trying desperately to ignore the horror, to look for anybody else she could save. Her heart stopped an instant before it pounded into a fast erratic rhythm. Tynan fought with a wolf, a long metal stick as his only weapon. The wolf bounded, landing against Tynan, knocking him to the floor. Tynan raised his arms to meet him and rolled the dead wolf away, pulling the metal from its chest. Mesmerized, she stared at him, horrified and fascinated at the same time. A deep growl pulled her attention toward her feet. A gigantic grey wolf snarled. Blood covered its coat and dripped from its mouth. She gasped as the realization hit; it was the same wolf that had attacked Dane earlier that day. It crouched, readying itself to pounce. She stared into cold blue eyes and knew it meant to kill her. And probably slowly. It sprung, and she winced, waiting for the impact. The wolf flew sideways as Tynan caught it round the middle, landed and rolled with it. Tynan called out, the length of the stiletto piercing his shoulder driven in by the weight of the wolf above him. The wolf’s teeth were mere inches from his face; it snarled and snapped at his throat. Tynan heaved at the wolf across his shoulders, but couldn’t quite remove him. As she watched, a huge, thin sword arched gracefully through the air, catching the wolf in its back. It howled and turned to snap at the man. Tynan pushed again and finally dislodged the beast. The wolf went after the man with the sword. The moment Tynan got to his feet, wolves surrounded him. He pulled the stiletto from his shoulder, screamed out in pain and twirled it in his hand, before lunging at a nearby animal. Moon watched horrified as the grey wolf tore out the throat of the man who attacked it. The man’s body fell to the ground with a thud and Moon closed her eyes briefly to try and block out the sight. When she opened them, Zale had transformed back into human form and locked his hazy blue gaze on her. She looked around for a weapon. Something to defend herself with. Defend herself and help Tynan. A sword lay against a blood-matted body. Swallowing bile, she reached down and grabbed the hilt, trying to ignore the congealed mass covering the blade. “What do you plan on doing with that?”

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Zale stood in front of her, only an arm’s length away. Blood dripped from his once handsome face and maniacal pleasure burned within his eyes. She raised the sword to Zale’s throat and he laughed and batted it away, slicing his forearm in the process. Terror filled her and he grabbed at her dress, pulling her toward him. She turned her head from his fetid breath. “I do so like it when they fight.” He grabbed a fist full of her hair and dragged her up on stage. The view of the carnage below was devastating, and she tried to turn away. He pulled at her again, and she cried out. “Take a look,” he growled in her ear. “That’s what I’m going to do to you.” She saw a wolf tear the arm off a still-screaming boy, and she turned her head to retch. “Pity,” he sighed. He turned her head to face him, maniacal delight filling his eyes. “I intended to take your body first, but now I don’t have time. I want to savor you, though. Perhaps I’ll have you for afters.”

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Chapter Twenty Two Moon tried to fight as rough hands grabbed at her again. Zale yanked her to her feet, grasped her around the waist and pulled her tight against him. She squirmed, trying hard not to touch him, but he laughed and pushed his entire length against her. He was covered in blood, and the wetness seeped though her clothes. She tried not to gag. “Watch. You don’t want to miss this,” he whispered hoarsely. Zale turned toward the hall and threw his arms out. A huge tidal wave of pressure flowed through the club, the ripples knocking everyone to the ground. “Enough.” Moon jumped as he screamed in her ear. A silver dagger glinted in his hand. Terror gripped her as the cold metal pressed against the heat of the hollow of her throat. She tried not to breathe. “It’s time,” Zale bellowed into the silence. All the surviving shape shifters growled and hissed as they transformed back into their human forms. New shock washed through her as a large black hound took the shape of a man she knew well. Sebastian stood among them, a cruel smile twisting his handsome face. He winked at her, and obscenely licked the blood from his lips. The venators raised their weapons, readying themselves to fight the shifters in human form. Tynan stepped forward toward the stage, his face livid with fury. She sought out his eyes and almost fainted when she saw the fear etched into their darkness. “Resist and I’ll kill her slow,” yelled Zale. He slid the now warm blade from the base of her throat down to the top of her breast, just below her dress. Blood seeped in a thin red line, and she cried out. “You wouldn’t want to be responsible for another death. First my wife—” “Your wife was a shifter, you bastard,” Tynan bellowed. “Then Rory,” Zale continued. Moon watched as all the remaining venators, except the one with the Samurai sword, advanced on Tynan. None of them realized Zale wasn’t one of them, that he was the enemy. “I didn’t kill Rory. You did, you lying bastard! It’s what you’ll die for.” “Of course, it was your fault. I wanted him with me, but he was loyal to you until the end.” Zale shrugged, and Moon gasped as the knife sliced shallow knicks against her flesh. She flinched and Zale’s grip tightened, biting into her flesh. “Besides, how else was I supposed to get your attention and get you up here to the city out of exile?” Zale sneered with obvious loathing. Tynan growled and moved closer to the stage. Zale flicked the knife across her skin again. He bent his head, and slowly licked the line of blood from her throat to her breast. Sickening hot bile rose to her throat as his hot tongue laved at her wounds.

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“Surrender to me, and I’ll give you the woman.” “No. He’ll kill you,” she screamed. He needed Tynan for the ritual, and she knew he would kill them both. She looked pleadingly at Tynan. “Please. Don’t.” He met her gaze and for a fraction of a second his fierce look softened. But then he looked back at the maniac holding her captive. And nodded. ~* * *~ Tynan threw his stiletto to the ground. He’d planned to come here, seek out Zale and take out his revenge, with Rin and Dane as his back up. To find retribution for his brother and for himself. But most of all to keep Moon safe. But the moment he saw Zale in wolf form standing at Moon’s feet, all rational thought fled from his mind. Why was she here and not with Darius? What would Zale do to her if Tynan continued to fight? He would do anything to keep her safe. Even if that included giving up his own life. Human shouts of pleasure and triumph echoed from the shape shifters as Tynan threw his down weapon. Rough hands grabbed at him, ripping the cut in his shoulder wide open. He clamped his jaw shut against the pain. They threw him up onto the stage at Moon’s feet. He pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at Zale by a few inches. Pure hate coursed through his veins. “Get your goddamn hands off her,” he ordered. Zale smirked and lowered his head to lick the wounds across her neck. Rage beat in Tynan's head and he wanted to rip the man apart with his bare hands. Zale whispered something against Moon’s ear. Her eyes widened in fear before he shoved her way. She slid across the floor toward the back of the stage. His first instinct was to go to her. But at least back there, she would be out of harm's way. He kept his gaze locked on Zale’s and growled at him, baring his teeth. Zale laughed and stepped toward him. There was once a time when he looked up to the man, adored him and even loved him. Now what he felt for him was beyond the deepest hate; he loathed him. Zale raised the knife, covered in Moon’s blood and ripped open Tynan’s shirt. Tynan tensed as the silver touched his skin, tracing the tattoos across his chest. He flinched as Zale made small nicks across his skin. Zale walked around him, all the while whispering strange ancient words. Tynan stood rigid, his muscles straining to the point of pain. Zale slid the knife over his wounded shoulder and over his back. His shoulder blades itched, awaiting the expected knife to rip through his flesh. The knife nicked him a few more times, warm blood dripping down his body and trickling off the blade. Droplets splashed to the ground in a circular formation. Zale turned and faced him again, an evil grin across his face. 97

The minute the last drop of blood fell to the floor, Tynan screamed out in agony as pain suffused his body. The muscles through his body elongated then stretched to near breaking point. He stiffened and tried to force himself to lunge at Zale. Pure rage suffused him. He was unable to move. Zale laughed. “Weren’t expecting that, were you. Paralysis is a common feature of ritualistic magic. We couldn’t have you fighting back, could we?” Zale leaned in closer until his hot fetid breath hit Tynan’s face. “How does it feel to be helpless, you son of a bitch? That’s how I felt when your sword ran my wife through. And now, I’m finally going to make you pay.” Defenseless, he watched Zale raise the knife, unable to scream as the blade cut across his chest, through the old wounds, to the open gash in his shoulder, sliding it in to probe the wound. Raw pain burned through his body and blackness consumed the edges of his brain. His blood coated the silver knife to the hilt. Zale turned his back to him and walked in a circle, allowing the blood to drip onto the wooden stage. A deafening roar sounded out from the club. All the lycanthropes sliced at the venators to spill blood, not to kill, only to maim. Tynan cursed and called out with his mind to his fellow venators. He tried to force his muscles to move, to resist, but to no avail. Zale whispered the ancient words of the ritual, faster and faster. A whirl of energy rippled through the air, feeding the adrenaline pounding through the club. Horrified, Tynan stared at the circle of blood. An outline of the woman who nurtured and cared for him after his initiation, the woman he’d accidentally killed, started to materialize. The rhythm of the ritual beat faster, more frantic. Matilde appeared transparent, hazy, and as the frenzy reached its crescendo, her form solidified. Zale smiled, walking around his wife, reaching out for her, but unable to touch her. He turned and strode back to Tynan. He smiled, but hatred penetrated his eyes. “I sired you and loved you like a son, until you took from me the only woman I ever loved.” A flittering of regret crossed his face. “It didn’t have to be this way, but you took her, and now it’s your duty to bring her back to me. I’ve already killed one son. Say hello to your brother for me.” He raised the knife and Tynan fought against the defenselessness, unable to move, and braced himself. He waited for death, and then he heard Moon scream as she rushed at Zale, launching herself at his arm holding the knife to Tynan’s chest. Zale reached out and slashed her face, across the bridge of her nose and into those beautiful blue eyes. She shouted in guttural pain and fell to the floor clutching at her face. Tynan screamed in horror, the sound the only thing filling his head. He could only look at her, his eyes only able to focus on the edge of her cowering form. In his peripheral sight, he saw Zale raise the knife, preparing to kill him. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Moon. He was about to die and the only regret was that he couldn’t protect his beautiful Moon. The thought of what Zale would do to her when he was dead filled him with livid rage. He tried to force himself to move, to protect her. As she had tried to protect him. 98

A new pain landed against his bare back as sharp claws speared into his tender flesh. The tremendous power in those paws propelled him downward. He toppled to the ground, breaking the plane of the circle as Zale’s knife embedding itself deep within his shoulder. He lay there for a moment, still unable to move. The pain finally threatened to blacken the edges of his mind, the knife buried to the hilt in the open wound through his shoulder. In a flash of fur, a huge grey and white Husky bounded over him and launched itself at Zale. Zale bellowed. The spell broken, Tynan was finally able to move. He rolled to his feet, the blood on the floor around him smearing outward, hitting the form of Matilde. A high pitched, bloodcurdling scream echoed from inside the circle of blood. The form of Matilde blackened, her flesh searing from the bone. Her eyes ran red with dark blood. She faded away, clawing at the air in a final attempt at not being dragged back to the fires of damnation. Tynan headed toward Zale, revenge blinding him to everything else around him. The dog tore at Zale, sharp fangs barely missing his jugular. Zale threw off the beast and reached for a Sarasin sword held by an Arabian venator next to him and growled as it sliced his hand. He twirled the sword and slashed at the Husky. Tynan reached the Husky before the fatal blow and pushed him to the ground. Zale swung the sword and Tynan ducked under it, ripped the dagger from his own shoulder and jammed it to the hilt into Zale’s heart. “That’s for Rory, you son of a bitch.” Tears burned hot behind his eyes as he looked at the life draining from his father’s eyes. He needed to die, deserved it. But a piece of Tynan’s heart died with the old man. The old scars across his chest burned for what he hoped was the last time. The light left Zale’s eyes and he dropped his dead body to the floor. Tynan glanced down. The dog had transformed into a man, wounded and bleeding on the floor. “My gratitude venator.” Tynan barely heard him groan, as he headed toward Moon. “My thanks, Darius,” Tynan managed. “For keeping her as safe as you could.” He stiffened his spine against the pain racking his body and forced himself to remain standing. His gaze scanned the stage for Moon and another part of his heart died. She sat, trembling in a ball on the ground, blood pouring between the fingers she clutched to her face. Ignoring his pain, he ran to her, kneeling beside her. She cowered away, making sad mewling sounds like a wounded animal. “Moon, love, it’s me. It’s Tynan. Let me help you.” He ripped off his torn and bloodied shirt and pressed it against her wounded eyes. It was dirty, but it was all he had. He gently pulled her into his arms and she jerked at his touch, then leaned against his chest and cried out her anguish.

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Chapter Twenty Three Darkness and pain consumed her. Moon’s head exploded in agony, and her eyes were on fire. The sounds of battle, screams and agony filled her ears. She reached up; hot blood streamed down her face. It hurt so much she wished for death. The darkness overwhelmed her, and unable to see, confusion blanketed her brain. She curled into herself, hoping the entire nightmare would pass her by. She flinched, feeling the heat of a man kneel beside her. Tynan’s voice slowly seeped through the pain, but she was unable to make out the words. Strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up onto the hardness of his lap. The smell of him filled her head and managed to push back the acidic smell of blood. She flinched again in his arms until relief found its way through the agony. Tynan was alive; he was with her, holding her. .Black terror seized at her heart, the pain near excruciating, the darkness unbearable. Tynan ran a hand over her hair and she cringed. Her skin felt over sensitive to his soothing touch, and it was her downfall. The tears she held back still would not fall through her mangled eyes. But she cried and screamed out the pain. The noise of the battle died down, and all she could hear were her own sobs along with Tynan’s voice whispering warm and tender against her ear. Powerful arms grasped her tightly and she reached for him, feeling as though she were about to fall as he lifted her up and cradled her against his chest. She rocked, nausea threatening to overtake her as he walked, and she clung to him for dear life. “Rin, get over here,” his voice barked, making her jerk in his arms. “Heal her now.” His words were an order, but her over sensitive hearing picked up on Tynan’s underlying worry. A cool hand touched her face, and she recoiled, expecting excruciating pain. The hand was surprisingly gentle to the touch. The man’s voice was clipped and formal, but true regret edged his words. “There is only so much I am able to do. My powers are limited in this.” “Heal her as much as you can, and I will forever be indebted to you,” said Tynan, his voice breaking. Strong fingers covered the mess of her face. She screamed and tried to fight, to get away from him, but Tynan tightened his grip on her. “I’m sorry, love. Stay still and the pain will be gone soon. Trust me.” She stilled a little, and another hand grasped her head to keep her steady. Warmth now emanated from the hand across her eyes. She groaned. The skin across her face contracted to the point it seemed to be ripping and then eased. Rin’s fingers tightened and she heard him bellow in agony before all her pain lessened, and then finally disappeared. 100

His hand dropped, and she sighed, peaceful blackness carrying her to sleep. ~* * *~ Moon opened her eyes, but couldn’t see. A blackness, darker than sleep, met her vision. Fresh panic jumped at her heart, her breathing automatically coming in gasps. A strong arm wrapped around her. “It’s alright. It’s only me,” came Tynan’s voice. “Lay back down.” He pulled her downward, and she was afraid she would fall, unable to see or feel where she was. “Where am I?” “At your place. In your bed.” His large hand slid down her body, across her arm and held her hand. He splayed her fingers and smoothed her palm against the softness of the bed linen. “Feel it. Smell it. It’s yours.” She ran her fingers over the material, but everything felt foreign. Her hand slid across her stomach and with a jolt of surprise she realized she was dressed in her satin nightgown. “How did I get dressed?” “I dressed you,” answered Tynan, a strange huskiness in his voice still wasn’t enough to conceal his emotion. She heard him sigh. “I brought you home from the club, bathed you, dressed you and brought you to bed.” “Thank you.” Her heart swelled at his kindness. The gentleness of his actions after such a violent night made her love him all the more. She swallowed and forced herself to ask the question she was almost too frightened to hear the answer to. It came out on a scared whisper. “Am I ever going to see again?” Only silence answered her. In the already darkness, she didn’t want silence too. “Tynan, talk to me,” her voice wavered. “I’m scared.” “I know.” A muscle in his arm bulged as he placed it under her neck and eased her closer until her head rested against the hardness of his chest. “I don’t know if you will ever be able to see again. Zale cut your eyes and Rin tried to heal you. But he only has limited powers.” Rancor filled his voice. “It’s to stop venators from being too powerful and healing everyone.” “Is Zale dead?” Tynan’s voice was hard. “Yes, I killed him.” The horror of it all pulled at her soul, and she was unable to stop the tears. She sobbed. “If I can’t see, what am I going to do? I won’t be able to do my art work.” A thought dawned on her. She felt her soul drop at the thought. “I’m helpless without my sight.” 101

Tynan lifted her hand and kissed each finger. “These hands will be able to create beauty from within your soul, not your eyes.” The flood gates opened, and she couldn’t control her tears. Tynan held her close to his chest and when the sobs finally ceased, the intense rhythm of his heart lulled her into a deep sleep once more. ~* * *~ It was still dark. Day or night? She couldn’t tell. She tried to blink away the darkness, but it was futile, the black void continued to fill her world. Moon sat up in bed and attempted to get a feel for the room. She stopped and listened. This was her bedroom. She knew it inside and out, but now without the use of her eyes, she realized she never really had known it at all. She’d never noticed the smell of it, how it felt cozy or the sounds around her house. The room felt empty. Tynan wasn’t here. She was glad. This was something she had to do on her own. She pushed down her fear. If this was the way the rest of her life would be, then she’d better start getting used to it now. Besides, reality obviously wasn’t what she thought it once was. A couple of days ago people were people and animals were animals. Now it was all messed up. Reality blurred with fantasy, with nightmares. Now, darkness was her new reality. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gingerly reached for the floor. Her toes connected with the plush pile carpet. Her sense of touch heightened, she stood. Now, to try and remember where everything was. She took it for granted when she could see, now it seemed her memory wasn’t too worried about such mundane things as furniture and how to get to the bathroom in total darkness. She took three steps, crashed into something hard and cursed. Reaching out, she steadied herself against a cold wooden surface and realized it was her bedside table. Now to make it to the door. Tentatively, she walked over to where she thought it would be and hit the wall. Damn. She ran her fingertips along the smooth flat surface, knowing that sooner or later she’d get to the doorway. Her fingers found the contours of the door jamb. Where open space should have been, her fingers hit a solid bumpy wall. Hard and soft all at the same time, warm under the sensitive tips of her fingers. She gasped and slid her hand up to cup Tynan’s face. His cheek held a day’s worth of rough stubble, and it tickled her skin. He turned into her hand, soft lips kissing the center of her palm. “You’re doing well, love.” She didn’t know when he’d started calling her that, but she liked it. It made the vulnerability and loneliness disappear for an instant. But there was no way, especially now,

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that she’d allow herself to believe he meant it as anything other than a small endearment. Tynan didn’t truly love her. How could he? “Make love to me, Tynan.” She heard him moan and felt his hand cover hers against his cheek. How she wished she could see his expression. See those black eyes so they could let her know what he was feeling. “Tell me what you’re feeling, Tynan. I can’t see you.” “I’m feeling,” he stopped, and she waited with bated breath. He didn’t say another word. She gasped in surprise when soft, warm lips met hers. She opened her mouth to his slow seductive kiss. He pulled her against him and the length of his body heated every part of her. Tynan stepped forward, making her step back. She grabbed him to keep from falling. He steadied her back with a strong forearm and stepped forward again without breaking the kiss. She had to trust him. Trust that he wasn’t going to let her fall. She’d never been more terrified. The edge of the bed bumped against the back of her knees before he lowered her down onto the bed. He broke the kiss and came down to the mattress with her. She could feel his presence towering over her. The clean scent of him wafted across her. He smelled of soap and something spicy, and she realized why he wasn’t in the bed with her when she had awakened. Reaching up, she ran a hand down the length of him. Her fingers met the rough material of a towel wrapped around his hips. She pulled at it and it came away easily. “I wish I could see you,” she whispered against his lips. “Hush and let me show you how the rest of your senses can make life very pleasurable.” His wet, hot tongue ran the length of her throat, and she squirmed as hateful memories threatened to surface. “Easy, my love. I’ll not hurt you.” She heard the pain in his voice and knew it to be true. He would never hurt her. She arched into him when his mouth reached her breast, laving her hardened nipple through the soft satin of her night gown. His calloused hands skimmed her thighs. She never realized how work hardened his hands were. He pulled up the hem of her slip over her thighs to reveal her. A strange sensation of vulnerability washed over her that he could see her most intimately, but she couldn’t see him at all. Warmth sent shivers across her as his breath whispered against the inner juncture of her thighs. The roughness of his tongue slid down the length of her slick heat. She jerked in pleasure as he slipped his tongue into her. The sensation of him slowly kissing her so intimately was doubled by the sheer experience of feeling alone. She placed her hand on his 103

head, the soft bristles of his short hair tingling against her palm. Tynan’s hands splayed on either side of her stomach, above her hips and pulled her closer toward him. She moved into him and he moaned, his fingers biting into her soft skin as he flicked his tongue over her swollen flesh. Liquid desire exploded through her, and she thrashed against him. He growled deep in his throat, sending pleasurable vibrations into her very core. Realizing she hungered for more than just touching, she pulled at him, silently imploring him to cover her body with his again. She needed him inside her. She dragged at his shoulders, and he rose above her. He was hard against the juncture of her thighs, and she spread her legs wider, yielding to him as he entered her with one strong push. She moaned as his hardness filled her. Wanting all, she pressed against him, rocking harder into his body. Her inhibitions fled as wanton need replaced her need to see. She felt Tynan, she knew him, and she wanted him. Fragments of ecstasy started deep within her belly and threatened to explode. He stilled and stiffened above her, sending her over the edge. She called out as pain and pleasure met and knew the instant he experienced the same sensations. Panting, he moved to lie beside her, stroking her face. She turned to him and smiled, hoping he could see in her eyes, what she couldn’t see in his.

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Chapter Twenty Four Tynan rolled over in bed. Moon’s scent lingered on his skin as well as the linen. He blinked and saw her silhouette curled up on the chair beside the window, her back heaving in silent sobs. A surge of emotion held him motionless for a fraction of a second. Getting up from the bed, he went over and knelt by her side. She wiped the tears from her face. “I’m trying to be brave, but I’m so scared,” she said. His stomach clenched and his chest constricted in pain at the thought of her living in continual fear. “I’m so sorry that you got caught up in my world. You deserve so much more.” He ran a thumb across her tear stained cheek. “God, you’re beautiful.” She smiled at him, her face slightly turned away from his. She couldn’t see where he was. Her eyes were definitely the windows to her soul, looking at her now it seemed like the shutters had been drawn. “It’s funny. I used to be afraid of the dark as a little girl.” She swallowed audibly. “Now I have to live in it.” A tear rolled unchecked down his cheek, and he swallowed hot bitterness. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to pay for his mistakes. He put his arms around her, trying to put all his emotion into this one last hug as he stiffened his resolve. He cleared his throat. “I have to go out for a bit, love. Please be careful while I’m gone.” He kissed her sweet soft lips, lingering only a moment. He didn’t trust himself to stay any longer, if he did, he wouldn’t be able to leave. Reluctantly, he left the apartment and didn’t look back. ~* * * ~ The fresh air outside chilled him to the bone, but a cold, hard spot formed in his heart and froze him deeper than any snow drift. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed down the ice-laden streets. He walked quietly, trying to numb his mind. But half an hour later, his thoughts were as active as ever, and his destination, the Masonic hall was finally in view. At the ancient doors, he took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to do this. He hated this place with a passion. Here they had almost crucified him and sent him into exile. It was here that his brethren harbored a monster as their leader while they dammed him to a cold living hell. He swung the doors open and stepped into the darkened building. Light filtered through the stained glass window, sending shards of color dancing through the cathedral-sized hall. Four guards emerged from the shadows, advancing on him slowly in a circle. He turned to one. “I want to see Tithe. Now.” One guard nodded to another who immediately disappeared through a side door. The remaining three stood around him in silent condemnation. Tynan didn’t care. He was here to meet with only one man. He’d only met the ruler of the Venatoris Versipellis once before.

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In his youthful exuberance, he’d asked the man about his strange name. The answer still managed to send shivers through him. The moment the door opened, the three guards disappeared as if by magic. Tithe sauntered over to him in the arrogant manner befitting only to a man who held life and death in his hands. Tynan had been young and impressionable when he’d first met him. Now he’d been hardened by life, but Tithe still managed to command a level of respect, even through the haze of hatred. He stood silent before him, a couple of inches taller than Tynan, arms crossed over his wide chest. “I want Moon healed completely,” Tynan said, getting straight to the point. “You know I can’t do that.” Tithe narrowed his eyes though his expression was blank. “I know the brethren have special healers for when the venators are so badly injured that they can’t heal themselves.” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice. “They aren’t for your personal use, venator.” Tynan reached out and gripped the man’s throat, barely resisting the urge to squeeze. “It was Zale that blinded her. He was head venator for eons and nobody knew what he really was. It was your job, your responsibility. You’re the one who fucked up. I finished off Zale and did your job for you.” He squeezed. “Now heal her, or so help me, you’ll be joining my maker in hell.” Tithe raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing under Tynan’s palm. Tynan released him to allow him to talk. “I will agree to heal her on one condition. You will go back to Alaska into exile and not breathe a word of what Zale was.” “You’ve got to be kidding me?” disbelief rendering him near speechless. Tithe cocked his head. “Zale is an embarrassment. The other venators present will keep their tongues. I’ll see to it. You need to return to exile to keep up the premise.” “You bastard. I should kill you where you stand.” “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” Tithe turned to go and Tynan cursed. Moon spending the rest of her life in darkness wasn’t an alternative and knew he would pay any price to give her back the life she loved. Tynan tensed. “Deal.” Tithe turned to face him. He nodded and headed out the door. A shadow against the wall moved. Tynan went for the dagger at his spine, his palm wrapping around its cold hilt as Rin stepped forward. “Go in peace, Tynan. If you need assistance, summon me. I will be there for you.” Rin bowed his head, his hand on his sword as he said his pledge. Without waiting for a reply, he blended back into the shadows. Deathly silence filled the hall and he looked around one last time. He was heading back to exile. Into the cold. Alone. His heart wept at the thought of never seeing Moon again.

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If they would heal her sight, then it was worth the price. ~* * *~ Dane embraced Darius, clapping him on the back. He would miss the man. Darius was one of the very few he felt a kinship to. “Goodbye, cousin. Take care of your wounds.” Dane noted the extent of his cousin’s injuries. “Zale sure did make a mess of you.” “I will,” growled Darius. He released him and pierced Dane with that strange translucent stare. “You are welcome to stay.” “The Dark Moon is over. There’s no need to stay.” “Are you sure?” Darius moved stiffly to the couch and eased himself down slowly. Dane stared at his astute cousin. The man missed nothing. He sighed and sat on the couch opposite. “She’s a human. I’m a shape shifting bear. There’s nothing more to say.” The woman at the club still rattled him. She pulled at him, her emotion so raw and powerful it had the power to change him to human form. Even with the Dark Moon’s pull, she overrode his primal instinctual power. Why, he didn’t know, but it scared the hell out of him. He’d taken her to safety before rejoining the fray at the club. Only to return to her once the fight had ended. He had stayed with her, comforted her for hours until the dawn. When she’d finally exhausted her emotion, she had fallen asleep in his arms. Her softness played on his memory, the sweet heaviness of her body against his chest. His heart tore open. He wanted her like nothing before. But he knew there was no hope. He’d carried her home, cradled her in the safety of his arms and watched her sleep. And left her before dawn. “It happens sometimes,” said Darius, his voice strangely compassionate. “There are ways to make it work between humans and our kind.” Dane saddened to the very core of his being. And this time not only for himself. “I’m sorry, Darius. I forgot. My mind wonders. I didn’t mean to—” Darius’ face hardened and he reached across and clapped Dane on the shoulder. “Forget it cousin. Learn from my mistakes. The things you never believe can happen have a tendency to find you.” He looked him in the eye. “If this woman captured your heart, both you and she deserve the benefit of the doubt that it can work.” Dane couldn’t allow that kernel of hope to plant itself within his heart. The pain of the disappointment would be too much to handle. Shaking his head to dispel the notion he stood up and embraced Darius again. He needed to head back to his beloved ice fields. The beauty of the blue and white ice caps called to him once more. But this time, he would return with a part of his soul 107

remaining in the city of Whitehorse. It was the first time returning home made him feel cold and alone.

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Chapter Twenty Five Moon traced her hands along the walls. She knew a dragon flew across them and she was desperate to see it with her hands. Tynan had left the apartment hours ago, and since then, she’d cried and shouted. She’d even thrown things in anger. She found that wasn’t the smartest thing to do when you couldn’t see and ended up tripping over everything in her path. Finally, a slow acceptance came over her. She was blind, and she would learn to deal with it. It would just take time. But questions still plagued her mind. Would Tynan stay with her to help her through this transition? He gave her hope that she could get on with her life and keep doing most of the things she so adored. Perhaps the love for her work did come from her soul and not her eyes. A knock at the door startled her and her heart leapt at the thought of being with Tynan. Slowly she felt her way along the wall to find the door. The handle cold under her fingers, she opened the door and stilled. A presence stood in the doorway. She knew instantly that it wasn’t Tynan. This man’s aura seeped power and arrogance. “Who are you?” He stepped in, she felt him standing close to her, dwarfing her with his presence. “Get out of my house.” Terror screamed through her as she realized how vulnerable she was. She backed into the wall, needing something solid behind her. He followed; she could feel him near her. He smelt of expensive aftershave and power, it literally surrounded him. She stiffened when a large warm hand wrapped around her shoulder. Her heart jolted before a divine sense of peace hit her. She sighed and slumped to the ground. The stranger picked her up with a strength that should have given her pause and carried her to her bedroom and placed her gently onto the bed. For some reason she didn’t care, peace and serenity blanked any fear from her mind. Not even the rational part of her mind seemed to register the fact that there was a stranger in her house wielding a terrifying amount of power over her conscious mind. That same massive warm hand covered her eyes. Slowly heat seeped into her eyes, and they languidly closed by themselves. She sighed again when he removed his hand. Moon moaned in simplistic pleasure, only too happy to lie here indefinitely and soak up the first semblance of real peace she’d had since this whole mess started. “Open your eyes,” the stranger commanded softly. “No thank you. I’m quite happy here,” Moon replied, stretching out on the bed like a feline warming itself in the sun. “I feel rather good.” The man chuckled and the sound vibrated through the air. “Your strength matches that of Tynan’s. You have a strong will. I can see why the venator is drawn to you.”

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At the mention of Tynan’s name, she opened her eyes a fraction and brightness met her. She sat up on the bed, blinking against the pain the harsh light was suddenly causing. She lifted up her hands and turned them over, looking at them. Seeing them. “I can see,” she screamed in joy. Tears fell uninhibited. Sobs shot through her. Unable to hold them in, she pulled her knees to her chest and allowed her emotion to run freely. Finally, she looked over at the man towering over her bed. He stood at least six foot seven, broad and masculine. Piercing green eyes stared curiously at her. “How did you heal me? Why did you heal me?” “Tynan requested it,” he said, his voice slow and melodic. Her heart soared with happiness. “Where is Tynan?” “Tynan is gone,” he stated simply. “Gone?” Her heart plummeted at his words. “Returned to exile. It was his payment for your healing.” ‘No.” Disbelief instantly dampened her joy. She got to her feet and stood before him, barely reaching his chest, she craned her neck to glare at him. “Where the hell is he?” “I am unable to tell you that.” “Tell me, damn it,” she screamed at him, devastated. “I cannot. And for a woman who has received the precious gift of vision, perhaps you should be basking in the fact the venator cared for you enough to barter his freedom so that you might truly see life for what it is.” He stared down at her for a moment longer before turning and walking out the door. He paused, his bulk filling the doorway. “Tynan is one of the only venators to come to me with a request. Usually it would get you killed, but he risked his life so you can see. Use his gift wisely.” He closed the door, and she was alone. She was truly grateful for her sight but now it was her heart that was broken. ~* * *~ Moon planted her feet firmly on the threshold of the Masonic hall. “I’m not going anywhere.” “Women are not permitted within the hall.” The guard swung the huge wooden door and Moon shoved her foot in the doorway before it could close, refusing to be turned away. “I want to see the head guy, and I want to see him now.” She demanded. The door opened and the beefy guard snarled at her. “Look, woman—” “I know about Zale,” she blurted out.

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The man’s eyes clouded before his intent gaze narrowed on hers. He seemed to have decided something and he nodded. She sagged with relief and made to move into the hall. He raised his beefy hand and gestured for her to stop. “You wait here,” he ordered. “Fine.” Moon felt a little elated by the fact the man hadn’t slammed the door in her face again. He left the ancient doors ajar and she could see the huge expansive hall beyond. Colored light danced across the floor from the beautifully designed stained glass window. The artist in her could appreciate the work, the colors and formation. Moon pushed against the door, it opened silently and she could see the entire window. After such a harrowing week the beauty of it captured her heart and the simple fact that she could see made her value it even more. “Stunningly beautiful, isn’t it?” She jerked at the deep melodic voice and squinted to see through the glare. “You,” Moon said incredulously. “You’re the head of the venators?” “You sound surprised.” The man who restored her sight stood in front of the window. His height dwarfed by the gigantic structure. His aura still one of tremendous power, and suddenly, she wasn’t at all surprised that he was the leader of the hunters. “I want you to tell me where Tynan is,” she demanded, and she thought she saw his mouth twitch in a grin. “I already informed you. I cannot tell you.” Moon hoisted a bag on her back, grabbed the larger two, one in each hand, and used them to push the door open the rest of the way before barging into the hall. “I don’t believe you –“ Before she made it half way across the hall, two men flanked her on each side, reaching out to stop her. She swung one of her bags, hitting the man on her left. He grunted and retreated a step. She threw the other bag at the man to her right. He caught it with little trouble, flung it to the ground and stepped forward. “Enough,” said the man in front of the window and both men next to her stopped immediately. “Leave us.” “But sire,” started the man to Moon’s right. “You would dare defy me?” The man spoke the words softly, but they echoed around the hall and the hairs at the nape of Moon's neck tingled. “No, Tithe. My apologies.” The man half bowed and sent Moon a scathing glance before he and the other man disappeared from the hall. Moon swallowed her unease and walked forward. “Tithe? Is that your name?” she asked, stopping when she was directly in front of him. “It is.” 111

Moon craned her neck as she tried to make eye contact with Tithe. “Please tell me where Tynan is.” He chuckled. “You are a stubborn little thing.” Tithe’s piercing emerald green eyes surveyed her, and she had a feeling that he could see her thoughts, her very soul, in a way no one else could. Except maybe Tynan. But Tynan was different. She had opened herself up to him, let him see what was in her heart. This man could probably see all this even if a person didn’t want him to. Moon moved to the window, more to get away from that searching gaze than anything. She touched the cool colored glass with her fingertips. “I’m an artist you know. A week ago I would have been totally fascinated by this window, probably obsessed by it and wondering how I could use it as inspiration for my own artwork. But now, what I appreciate more is the fact that I can see it.” She turned around and found Tithe facing her. “Thank you for restoring my sight.” Tithe nodded. “I think I was blind a long time before I lost my vision,” Moon said, and she saw confusion cloud Tithe’s eyes. “I couldn’t see my life for what it really was.” She exhaled and threw up her hands. “Hell, I was unable to see anything. I was engaged to a shape shifter and I didn’t even see that. I didn’t understand how I took everything for granted. How lonely I was because I refused to trust my heart. Tynan walked into my life and turned it upside-down, but I found true love and happiness with him. Everyone deserves to be with their love once they find them.” She wiped away a wayward tear and stepped closer to Tithe. She placed a hand on his forearm and felt him jerk but he didn’t pull away from her. “Thank you for opening my eyes.” This time when his gaze locked onto hers it felt like a physical force, and it was only when he looked away that she was able to remove her hand and step back from him. “How much do you know about the venators?” Tithe asked. “Enough. I know about Zale and how Tynan was unjustly punished for all those years, sent to a place he despises. And I know how you sent him back there.” She looked up at Tithe and saw his features harden. “It was necessary,” he said. “But you regret it. I know you do.” Tithe smiled, and Moon realized how devastatingly handsome he was. “You are astute.” He shook his head slightly. “And now you expect me to simply tell you Tynan’s whereabouts.” “Yes. I have a deal for you,” Moon said in a firm voice. “Do you?” he asked. This time his lips did quirk. Tithe motioned her toward a door leading off the great hall, and Moon’s heart soared. She was sure he would tell her where Tynan was. She wouldn’t leave him out in the cold. 112

~* * *~ The tiny lamp lit the barren room, sending an eerie glow against the ice encrusted furniture. Everything was frozen over. The generator seized up, unwilling to work even with a few well aimed kicks. Tynan sighed and sat on the bed, a film of frost cracking against the sheets. His breath fogged and hung in the air. He’d lived here so long that he felt like a part of the place. Now it looked like he’d be here a lot longer. By now, Moon would be healed. She’d be able to see. He smiled; she’d be so happy. Pity he couldn’t be there to celebrate. But she needed to see, deserved it. And if the price to pay was his freedom, it was small in comparison. She’d given him her heart. He could give her the only gift he deserved to give her. He owed it to her. If not for him, she would have been happily living in ignorance of his hate filled world. Besides, how could he ever make her truly happy? She was light and joy, her capability to love made a mockery of the devastation he had to live with. He heard a knock on the door and furrowed his brow. Never in the many years he’d lived here had anyone found him. He reached for his stiletto and crunched across the hard floor to open the door. Stunned he stared out into the white haze. Moon stood in the doorway, looking like a little snowman, wrapped up in thick cold weather gear from head to foot. He grabbed her and pulled her inside. She peeled the stiff scarf from around her face. His heart leapt at the blue crystal clearness of her eyes. “It seems I’m forever destined to turn up on your doorstep.” She looked up at him, apprehension in her gaze. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was? I know this time you didn’t go through my jacket pocket.” He stared at her, hardly able to believe she was here as she smiled up at him. The amusement left her eyes, they turned serious. “Why did you come back to live here?” Tears glistened in her eyes. “It’s so cold, so harsh.” She swallowed. “Why?” she whispered. “I couldn’t let you live in the dark.” “So you have to live in the cold.” She reached up a gloved hand and instantly warmed him. “Come away with me, Tynan. Somewhere warm.” Regret stabbed at him and he turned away. “I can’t.” Moon stepped into Tynan’s house and shut the door behind her. Even though the door kept the snow out, it didn’t keep out the cold. It was as if coldness permeated every aspect of the building. The only warmness emanated from Tynan himself. 113

“I went to Tithe. He told me where you were.” Incredulous, he faced her. “How did you find the Hall? How did you get information out of that bastard?” he asked in a heated tone. “Tithe’s really not that bad.” She twisted her scarf. “The youth club has surveillance cameras. Rory had them installed a few years ago. Everything that happened the other night was recorded, so it was pretty easy. Tithe tells me where you are, gives you the freedom to go wherever you want, and I won’t distribute the video.” “Why didn’t he just destroy the video and force you to keep quiet?” “I have copies, one I posted to an unknown address. One I have in a secure place, and I uploaded it to a few internet sites. Nobody can see them, but they can be published if need be. There’s also a full deposition at my father’s law firm, documenting everything. I also warned my father not to allow Sebastian to view the files. I told Dad that he was dangerous, but I didn’t tell him why. Tithe said he would warn Sebastian to leave my family alone.” He stood stunned. “It looks like you thought of everything.” “I am a lawyer after all.” “That was dangerous.” Unbidden anger seized him at the thought of what could have happened to Moon at the hands of the venators. “You were supposed to get your vision back, and then go on and live your life. Not blackmail people who’d just as likely kill you.” “Why are you angry at me?” She sounded hurt, and it tore at his heart. “You could have been killed.” She riled. “I couldn’t leave you out here in exile. You said it was hell, and it is,” she looked around the sparse room. “If you don’t want me, then you can still get out of here. You don’t have to live like this. You can be free, go somewhere warm. You deserve that much.” “Don’t want you? Of course I want you. I love you.” He stopped, surprising himself at the honesty of his words. “You love me?” “Yes,” he sat on the bed. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion sapped his energy. He loved her and she stood there staring at him, disbelief written all over her face. She came to kneel in front of him, holding his face just as she had done numerous times before. She was the only one to ever hold him like that, the only one to ever hold his heart. “I love you too. You came and turned my world upside down. Nothing is what I believed it to be. But what I know,” she placed her hand over his chest, “is that I do love you.” How could she love him when he’d wrecked her world? Blinded her, terrified her. His world was full of violence and danger and she’d already been hurt by it. He wouldn’t allow her to go through that again.

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“You know what I am and you know the world I live in. You are the most precious gift that I’ve ever had. I don’t want you hurt again.” “If I live a life without you, then I’ll die inside. I’d rather live with you.” She moved her hand off his chest and held his face in her hands again. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to be with you, Tynan. I can see you now, I’ll know if you’re telling the truth.” Tynan swallowed. He’d met life and death in his many years and yet he’d never been so scared. This pixie of a woman terrified him, she held his heart in her tiny hands. He’d told her to trust him when she’d been most vulnerable and now it was his turn. He looked into her eyes. They were clear and bright, the cloud of blindness gone. He couldn’t lie to her. “I love you with all my heart. And I want you with me. By my side always.” He bent toward her and claimed her mouth, her lips still cool from the long, hard journey. He broke the kiss and searched her eyes. “I love you, but I don’t ever want you to go through what you’ve been through the last few days.” “Then come away with me. Somewhere new where we can both start fresh and be who we want to be.” Dare he dream it? She was offering him the world and all he had to do was to take her outstretched hand. Did he have the strength for it? He’d survived so much, but his heart had never been on the line before. “Wherever we go there will be shifters and venators to hunt them. We can never get away from them.” The truth of his words hit him full force and his sprits dampened. To his surprise Moon smiled, a cross between sadness and understanding. “I know, but they don’t have to rule your life anymore. I know this is the world you’ve lived in for so long. But it’s not all you know. You can build a new life.” Uncertainly clouded her eyes for an instant. “We can build a life and a future together.” She looked around the room before her stunning blue gaze settled on him. The heaviness in his heart lifted a notch as she filled him with hope. “I’ve always dreamed of sailing around the Caribbean,” she said as amusement shone in her eyes. “You know, somewhere warm.” He looked at her open beautiful face and realized she was much stronger than he. She wore her heart on her sleeve and lived a life true to herself. He loved her truly, with a passion that was almost tangible. And if she were strong enough to love him, then he could reach down to the depths of his soul and find the courage to do the same. “That would be nice,” he conceded, offering a smile of his own. Without another word, he took her hand.

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About the Author Connie Wood is a romance author, residing in beautiful Australia. She has thrown caution to the wind and traveled the world in some of the most bizarre circumstances. If she wrote about her life experiences on the road, the truth would certainly be stranger than fiction. Connie has had a multitude of jobs including, the mundane and the not so mundane. She has bided her time as a secretary, librarian, information technology, web designer, student and a director to an international non-profit organization, among others. Currently Connie is doing a University Degree by correspondence, as she looks after her tornado of a son. Website: http://www.conniewood.co.cc

Enjoy the first chapter from…

The Veteran by Connie Wood Will their past thrust them into danger - or each other's arms? Roman Grisham returned from combat never able to return to the military he so loved. And he wants answers. His answers are linked to the shy and quietly sexy, Germaine Andrews who is looking for quiet seclusion after her life was torn apart. Now they need each other to unriddle the past, but it's their future that is fraught with danger.

Chapter One Here she was again, alone in the catacombs. Germaine looked up from her computer screen, rubbed her eyes and tried to stretch out the kinks in her neck. This was the one downside of working in the library's archives. All the computer work left her stiff and sore. Still, working down here in the catacombs of the NSW State Library had enough advantages to tip the scale in its favor. She stood and walked over to the small tinted window that allowed only dusty filtered sunlight to penetrate the archival records room. Her high heeled pumps echoed across the tiles. She smiled, looking at the hazy silhouettes of the birds flittering across the ground at eye level with her. To most people it would be strange to see the world from a ground-level perspective. But not to Germaine. It showed her a beauty that most people didn’t notice. It made her appreciate the details of life. And the details were important; they could save your life. Or get you killed.

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It was good to get lost in the details of work and life. At least then you didn’t have to worry about the bigger picture. Especially when the bigger picture held bleak and frightening memories. The view of the Royal Botanical Gardens held a major bonus of working in the catacombs. Her brief glances at the gardens, albeit through the tiny window, calmed and soothed her. It was also a perfect escape at lunch time. A good book and a packed lunch eaten out in the sunshine rejuvenated her. It also gave her the perfect excuse not to have to socialize with all of her colleagues. The shrill ringing of the phone broke the silence and echoed through the vast space of the room. Germaine walked across the room to her small cluttered desk and picked up the phone. "Good morning, Archives. Germaine speaking." Her voice held little friendliness, only cool professionalism. She had long stopped trying to be sociable to her work peers. She now wore her professional manner as armor. "Good morning, Germaine. How are those electronic newspaper articles coming along?" Her boss's enquiry was a moot point. He knew exactly how she was doing. Paul had been down to her sanctuary yesterday afternoon to check up on her. He was in a hurry to get the articles catalogued and constantly harassed her every chance he got. Irritation gnawed at her. She was a very capable archivist and fiercely protective regarding herself and her space. People tended to be friendly and wanted to know about her and her life. Germaine didn’t want to share. It just hurt too much. Her pain constantly burned just below the surface and people had a tendency to want to scratch it. But it wasn’t in her nature to be overly rude to anyone. Which was one of the main reasons she had taken this job with minimal supervision in a solitary environment. "The articles are going just fine, Paul," she tried to put a smile in her voice. "How can I help you?" "I don't want to pull you away from your work but something urgent has arisen and I don't have anyone else capable enough to take care of it." Curiosity caused a frown to crease her smooth brow. "What sort of 'something'?" "There’s a gentleman who requires access to some of our classified archives for some research that he is doing." The trepidation in the elder man’s voice set off alarm bells in her mind. Something was seriously wrong, she could feel it. "I don't have classified security access, Paul. Besides, I know how important these articles are for you," she added as a last resort. "The articles can wait. You have been added to the classified security database as of this morning. All you need to do is come up to the Information Technology department to get your clearance codes." Those warning bells started clamoring for attention, making her stomach knot. Why was she being given instant security access? "What is it you want me to do exactly, Paul?" She couldn’t hide the accusation and panic from her voice. She was being pushed out of her comfort zone. Again. And she didn’t like it. Every time it happened disaster wasn’t too far behind. 117

The silence from the other end of the phone was deafening. When he finally spoke his voice held a nervousness and sorrow that she had never heard there before. "I need you to go through the war files with this gentleman." He paused, "I'm really sorry Germaine, but you were specifically requested for this job." Her heart clenched at his words, her breathing becoming so erratic she was unable to speak. Germaine closed her eyes as images assailed her. The screaming and panic were as clear in her mind now as it had been that day three years ago. People running and terrified. The blood. The slivery flash of a knife. Not again! No! Her mind warned. She couldn’t handle this. Every instinct within her told her to hang up the phone and flee. Run away as fast as possible. As far away as possible. But she couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that again. She was sick of running and besides, it never did her any good. Her past was always there. And she needed this job and not only because of the salary. The quiet serenity her confines offered had been a godsend and she had found a semblance of comfort here. She wouldn’t give it up so easily. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Who made the request? And why me?" She knew exactly why her. But she needed to know how much Paul knew. "I'm sorry Germaine, but I can't elaborate. Let's just say the request came from a very high source." There was discomfiture in the old man's voice and Germaine felt for him. "My boss told me a little bit of information about you that was not in your personnel files. He said it was not violating any confidentiality, but all the same I feel bad knowing things without your consent. I’m sorry that I have to ask you to do this." He did sound sorry. Against her better judgment feelings of compassion for her boss welled inside her. She knew very well what it felt like to have to do something you didn’t want to do. "Why should I do this? If you know enough to make you feel sorry for asking this of me, why should I agree?" "Honestly, there is no reason you should. I don't know if I would have to strength to do it. But I do know that you are a beautiful and intelligent young lady with your whole life still ahead of you. It would be such a shame for you to hide away in the dark for the rest of your life." Her heart beat a tattoo against her chest, his words hitting a place deep inside her that she had hidden long ago. She had been attractive once. Now the first thing that people saw was the angry red gash that ran across her face, marring what beauty she once had. "Do this for yourself Germaine, put your demons to rest and live the rest of your life happy." Could she dare hope that her demons could be put to rest? She had lost so much already. It was easier to hide in the dark. Safer. Your heart couldn’t shatter if you didn’t put it out there. Live the rest of your life happy. His words vibrated through her. The idea was heaven. And scary as hell. Closing her eyes, Germaine whispered into the phone, "Okay, Paul. I’ll do it."

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Now there was no turning back. She was going out—into the light. She hoped it didn’t burn her. ~* * *~ Roman sat on the special shower seat that had been provided by the well meaning folks at the Veteran Affairs Unit. Its hard white plastic was cold and unwelcoming, reminding him of his four months in the hospital recovery unit. How he hated the damn thing. Cool water spilled down his back making him shiver. Still it wasn’t enough to take the heat out of his body. He’d been so hot since coming back. The burning heat inside him threatened to consume him if he didn’t get it under control soon. His ever-so-helpful psychiatrist at the VAU suggested that writing about his experiences might be cathartic for him. Her words still reverberated resentfully through him. “Not to be published of course! Nobody would actually ever read them! The military would deny all knowledge of incidences, and of you and your team.” Bitterness welled inside him at the memory of being abandoned since he had been home. Sure they said they were there to help, but being unable to speak about his experiences in full, only made the memories sit and fester in his belly. The only time they actually materialized was in the dark. In searing clarity. Making his nights hell and his days exhausting. Not that he had much physical exertion to distract him lately. His physiotherapy was over and he had nothing to occupy his time. So Roman had gone to the only people on the planet who could understand his plight. He went to his team, his brothers-in-arms. Drinking hard, they talked long into the night. But when the morning came and the hangover was gone, his brothers had returned to the training that would prepare them for another tour of duty. He was the only one left behind, unable to join them. The thought raised bile in his throat. Anger boiled within him and he physically lashed out at anything within reach. His arm crutches clattered to the tiles. Fine-milled soap and bottles of expensive hair and bath products flew across the double shower cubicle. At least I’m able to be miserable in comfort, he thought bitterly. They had paid him dearly for his leg. For his memories. For his soul. Roman buried his head in his muscular arms and roared in frustration, wondering if the constant ache in the center of his chest was ever going to get better? The physical pain in his leg had been excruciating, but still easier to deal with then the pain in his heart. At least his leg healed. Well, one leg had healed to leave scarring; the other had been amputated just above the knee. It was a good thing that the rest of him was in such great condition. The physiotherapy had taken less time than anticipated. His prosthetic leg had been fitted a lot earlier than expected, leaving him to get on with his life. And that was where the trouble had really started. What was the rest of his life? All he had known was his once-happy life in a small town. With his mates from school and college. Most of them continued on to live nice, normal and neat lives. What would they think of him now? He had gone on to join the Navy. And the boy they had all assumed would turn out to be nothing had thrived and come into his own in the armed forces. Until the day they had recruited him for something special. Something secretive. Something deadly. And as it turned out, something that would change his life, and his heart, forever. 119

Roman gripped the shower seat as he breathed deep and tried to get a grip on his emotions. He had no idea what the rest of his life would hold, but for now he would follow the suggestion of the simpering little psychiatrist. He would write about his experiences. He would tell his tale. But first, he would do some research. He would find out how and why he and his team were chosen for their missions. His plans were already in motion. He’d contacted his once-superiors to gain security access to the research information. Hopefully, he’d hear their decision soon. With a purpose in mind, Roman reached up and turned off the water. He grimaced as he leaned over and retrieved his arm crutches. He now had to maneuver around the things scattered on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bath to dry himself, looking wistfully into the porcelain tub. He had missed his long luxurious baths while he was in the field, covered in dirt and grime. Back then, showers had been a sporadic luxury. He had yet to have a bath since being back. Getting in and out of the tub was still out of his capabilities and that is what annoyed him the most. He had been most capable once. The trill of his telephone echoed through the bathroom and he quickly picked it up, glad to have a hands free unit that he took everywhere with him. "Hello." "Mr. Grisham? This is Paul Heathrow. We spoke yesterday regarding the access to some archive files?” There was a pause on the phone. One which Roman had no intention of filling. "Yes, well. I’ve called to say that you have the clearance necessary to access the files. You can start your research as of Monday morning." Excellent. Now the real work could begin. "Thank you, Mr. Heathrow. I’ll see you Monday." He was about to hang up when the man added, "I’m afraid there is one condition that has been added to your request though. You will have to be assisted at all times by a fully qualified librarian." Anger surged through Roman. How could he freely access all the information he needed if he was to be babysat by some quaint little librarian? "That was not part of the agreement. I was lead to understand that I would have full security access." "That is still correct, Mr. Grisham, but I have been told to give you an assistant. She is very capable and also has full security access. I believe you’ll find her discreet and very confidential. I’m sure there will be no problems." Full security access? Why would they give someone else full access so easily after he fought so hard for it? "What is the name of the assistant?" he demanded. "Her name is Germaine Andrews. I can assure you, Mr. Grisham, that you’ll find her most adequate." ~* * *~ 120

Monday morning shone bright, glaringly mocking Germaine's mood. She’d been regretting her moment of bravery all weekend. The only thing stopping her from fleeing the city altogether had been Paul's words vibrating through her head about the possibility of living her life happy. Away from her past. Bracing herself, Germaine slid the security card through the machine that allowed her entry into the cold sterile room. It was so different from her safe haven downstairs. This room was bright. Harsh sunlight shone through sparkling windows and bounced off arctic white walls. She heard the constant whirring of machines, their incessant noise buzzing through her head. Still there were only a handful of select employees who were able to venture into this section of the building. There would be very few people with whom she would have to interact. Fewer people who would stare at her scar and look at her with pity. Paul stood at the doorway nervously fidgeting with a security tag. She walked over to greet him and he gave her shoulders a fatherly squeeze before he led her through another security door. She stifled the urge to inwardly cringe at the unaccustomed contact. She stiffened her resolve before allowing herself to be led into the room. Germaine stifled an instinctive gasp. The handsome masculine man sitting at the small white table sent immediate electrical impulses coursing through her body. Never before had she reacted so instantaneously to a man. Her barriers were so strong that appealing good looks rarely affected her. Nothing productive would result from her yearnings and she cringed again and fidgeted uncomfortably. "This is Mr. Grisham. He’s interested in doing some research and requires your assistance." Paul spoke directly to Germaine, though her attention was still placed on the attractive man who remained seated. He lifted his head in a slow, predatory manner. His gaze rose to meet hers and she blinked. His dark brown eyes told her instantly that he didn’t want her assistance in any way, and she took a step back. Placing his hands on the arm rests he used his upper strength to raise himself slowly from the chair until he was able to get his feet under him. Germaine swallowed as his biceps rippled from the effort. He stood still for a fraction of a second before he started toward her. He had a lopsided gait that oozed sensuality. He was moving slowly and deliberately like a predator, even though his limp was pronounced. She shivered, and she had the feeling that he could move at the speed of light if needed. She had met men like him before. They were dangerous. Deadly. She tried desperately to raise her emotional barriers against him. He stopped in front of her, completely ignoring Paul. He held out a strong deeply tanned hand. "I’m Roman Grisham." A slight smile played against his hard mouth. Steeling herself, she reached out and grasped his hand firmly. She made sure she had a good firm hand shake. She needed to be on an equal footing with him. Well, as equal as anyone could be with this man. "Germaine Andrews." It was all she could think to say. All rational thought slipped away as the warmth of his hand seeped through her and his gaze held hers. 121

Roman's grin widened into a genuine smile making him devastatingly handsome. "I’m sure we’re going to get along just fine Gerri."

Enjoy the first chapter from…

Ursa Major by Mary Winter Sarah Doyle's job with a reputable Washington firm sends her to the Alaskan National Wildlife Refuge to write an honest report about oil drilling. She's aided by Liam Phillips, owner of RoundTheBend Eco Tours. All she wants is a few weeks in the wilderness and to keep her personal opinions in check so she can write the unbiased report her firm requests. Get in and get out. That's what she's done in the past, and what she expects to do now. She hadn't counted on her sexy, rugged guide or the feelings he kindles inside her. Liam is a man who will do anything to save his home and keep his secret safe. The remote countryside keeps his people hidden. It's their refuge and their home. He expects a stuffy political puppet, not a woman as untamed as the land he loves. His goal is to give Sarah the information she needs and send her back to Washington D.C. as soon as possible. However, pressures back in Washington DC, and from Liam's people, are mounting. Sarah has to persevere for her own peace of mind, for an entire ecosystem, and for a people she doesn't even know. But time is running out and Liam may have to reveal his darkest secrets in order to save everything.

Chapter One Sitting in the seat of the commuter plane, listening to the tinny vibration of metal, the whoosh of air currents buffeting the tiny craft, Sarah Doyle forced herself to uncurl her fingers from around the armrest and breathe deeply. After flying across the lower fortyeight states, then so far north that the sun never set this time of year, she expected she’d be less fearful of flying. Maybe the isolation was getting to her? Looking out the window over the Alaskan landscape, Sarah saw nothing except an occasional cabin and small settlements undeservedly called towns. “We’re almost there,” the pilot called over the intercom. The twenty-six seat plane was barely half full. She had the row to herself. The rest of the passengers were all avid fishermen and their excitement built as they neared their destination of Deadhorse, Alaska. They spoke of salmon runs of years past, of fishing in Yellowstone, of the catch they hoped to land this year. Sarah managed a smile at the sole flight attendant. She’d seen the pilot as she’d boarded, an older man who had flown this route since he was in his twenties. His graying hair and full beard marked him as several decades older than that, and his easy smile should have put Sarah at ease. Yet, the more she looked out the window, the more she saw this starkly beautiful landscape, and the more she feared what she had to do. Hodges & Associates sent her out here on a mission. She couldn’t let her spiritual or her environmental 122

beliefs get in the way. No matter if DC politics sickened her on the best of days, and made her wish she were far, far away on the worst. The plane began a steep descent, cutting off her thoughts. Sarah swallowed hard, her fingers once more gripping the armrest as the plane bumped and jolted its way down to the strip of runway outside of Deadhorse. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to block out the images of bloated, dead carcasses the town’s name invoked. A slight bump announced the plane’s touchdown, and she breathed a sigh of relief. On firm ground once again. She used the moments while the plane taxied to the terminal to calm her racing heart and wrap her political shell around her. She was here on a fact finding mission. Once she met up with Liam from Round the Bend EcoTours, she’d see the Brooks Range and what the oil pipeline was doing, or not doing, to the environment. Once that was done, she’d return to her cushy apartment in Washington D.C., where the wildest thing she had to deal with was the non-stop city traffic, and write her report. Fair and unbiased. She could do this. She had to do this. The plane stopped and the pilot thanked them for flying with him, as if any of them really had a choice. She fished her sunglasses out of her carry-on and put them on before disembarking to gather her luggage. Just a small suitcase and camping supplies, but she had no doubt they’d be enough to carry into the terminal. She scanned the area, but didn’t see anyone who looked like her contact. I don’t know why you’re worrying about this. Just write your report and come back. It’s not that big of a deal. Her fiancé’s words haunted her as she slung her backpacking frame over her shoulders and pulled out the handle on her rolling suitcase. Sarah curled her lip in disgust. Walt Beamer hadn’t been beyond the city limits a day in his life and didn’t understand what it meant to be out here. He didn’t understand what her work meant to her. She drew in a breath of fresh, clean air, available even here at the airport, and smiled. Just inside the terminal, Sarah removed her sunglasses and blinked at the sudden change in lighting. The small building housed worn chairs that looked left over from the ’70s and a few vending machines. A man leaned against the wall next to the coffee machine. Thick hair the color of polished mahogany hung in soft waves nearly to his collar. He towered over most of the men—other than her, there were no women—in the terminal. Dressed in a long-sleeved black turtleneck that stretched across his broad chest, worn blue jeans, and heavy hiking boots, he radiated masculinity. Just looking at him made her throat dry and her pulse leap. She’d be in the backwoods of Alaska with him. Her body hummed at the prospect, and she struggled to keep her fiancé’s image foremost in her mind, though compared to this woodsman, a slick city lawyer had no chance. Guilt assailed her. Just because she and Walt were having problems didn’t mean she should act impulsively. She could be professional. After all, she’d come out here to write her report on the impact of drilling on the environment. An impartial report, as her boss had reminded her time and time again with an implied “wink and nod.” She knew exactly what her boss expected to read. First, she’d gather the facts. Then, she’d write the report they required. The man straightened. He gave her a long perusal, his shuttered gaze not giving anything away. His attention lingered on the thrust of her breasts against the faded oversized University of Mary Washington sweatshirt she wore, then down the length of her legs. He 123

gave a slight nod at her hiking boots, as if she wasn’t completely without common sense, then with the leisurely stride of a man completely in control of his environment, he walked toward her. A hint of a smile crossed his chiseled lips as he neared. “Sarah Doyle?” He held out a large hand. She released the handle of her small suitcase and clasped it. His handshake was firm, but not overly so. Where his fingers touched hers, tingles shot up her arm. “You’re Liam?” She released his fingers. He nodded. “Let me help you with that.” “Thanks.” Sarah slid her backpacking frame from her shoulders, deciding there wasn’t any harm in letting him carry it to the vehicle. She’d carry it often enough if her plans to live out in the field bore fruit. “I appreciate that.” She grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “The truck’s this way.” Without waiting for her, he easily lifted her gear, the muscles in his biceps bulging. Sarah tried not to notice, just as she tried to ignore the way his jeans clung to his rear. She had an engagement ring tucked in her dresser back home. She shouldn’t be looking at him this way. Damn Walt and his angry words. She sighed, knowing she’d have to make a decision one way or the other about his proposal. And right now, the fact that she’d taken off the ring and put it in her jewelry box spoke volumes. She followed him to the truck, where he opened the door and helped her inside. Moments later, they were on their way. Not one to chatter, Sarah watched as the scenery changed from the homes and small businesses designed to cater to the oil workers, to the sparse landscape. On the horizon, she thought she saw an elk, though the thought of wildlife so close to town seemed foreign to her. She’d read there were bears here. Both black bears and grizzlies, and a shudder wound its way down her spine at the thought of meeting them in the woods. “Cold?” Liam asked. His voice sounded like Swiss chocolate. Just the sound of it chased the chill from her and filled her with liquid heat. Damn it, why was she so hot for this guy? “I’m fine. Just a shock from the weather in DC,” she answered. “I’ll bet. The lower 48 has nothing on us.” His smile flashed white teeth against his tanned skin. “The lodge is just about five miles from town. We’ll be there shortly.” He turned onto a gravel road, maneuvering the large quad-cab truck easily between ruts and larger rocks. True to his word, he pulled up in front of the lodge before much longer. The two story building, built from stone and logs, rose from a flat plain around it. Liam pressed the garage door opener on the sun visor, and the door opened to reveal room for three cars, though one of the bays held an ATV and a snowmobile. A red jeep sat in the other parking spot. He pulled the truck in and stopped. Just as before, he held the door open for her and grabbed her backpack frame before she could protest, then led her into the building. An open floor plan showcased a large living area with a fireplace and a kitchen with a spacious dining area. A short hall led to closed doors, and a wooden staircase led to the upstairs rooms. A balcony overlooked the living room with its large windows that looked 124

out onto the Alaskan wilderness. Everything was polished wood with bronze trim, the leather couches and heavy bookshelves giving the place a masculine air. Sarah suddenly felt very small and very feminine. “Let me give you the nickel tour.” He pointed down the hall, showing her the master bath, the closed door to his study. Upstairs, there appeared to be six bedrooms, with a couple more bathrooms. He showed her to a room close to the stairs decorated in a North Woods theme. “Don’t get too comfy. We’ll head out early tomorrow morning. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to take you downstairs for dinner. I’ve got some work to do.” From downstairs, male voices rumbled, and he listened to them for a charged moment before hurrying downstairs. No sooner had he left than her cell phone rang. Sarah answered it. “I trust you made it all right,” Ken’s voice crackled across the connection. “Just got here. Everything okay?” She’d been given her instructions. She hadn’t expected her boss to call so soon. “Yeah, fine.” Ken’s voice shook. Sarah knew he lied. Something was going on. First this mission, her employer’s insistence that she not sway her report one way or other, when Ken knew the kind of work she did. In fact, he’d told her repeatedly that was why she was picked for this project. “Let me know as soon as you start on the report, all right?” “I will. Don’t worry, Ken. You can count on me.” “Good.” Muffled sounds of a hushed conversation filtered through the phone line. “I got to go.” The line went dead. Sarah stared at her silent phone for a moment. It rang again. “Don’t worry, Ken,” she said as she lifted the phone to her ear. “I have it covered.” “Well I’m glad to hear that,” Walt’s voice sounded. “You made it all right?” “Just got here.” She sat down on the bed, the comforter soft beneath her. “So how soon can you wrap up your work and come back? I have an important function in two weeks. I’d like you to be there.” Sarah rolled her eyes. They’d discussed this. “I have an open ended assignment, Walt. I’ll be here as long as it takes to get the job done.” He guffawed. “Go out, take a look around and write your report. You’ll be home in a week.” Sarah shook her head, feeling displeasure pull the corners of her mouth down. He didn’t understand. “I take my work seriously, Walt. I’ll be here as long as it takes.” From downstairs, she heard rustling. She needed to find out more about her host. Interviewing him would be the perfect place to start gathering information. “Good bye.” She disconnected the call. Later, she’d deal with Walt and decide just what she was going to do about him. ~* * *~

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Liam sank into the leather executive chair behind his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he agreed to show Sarah around the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, it mostly was at the behest of people he couldn’t refuse. His father had just left to meet with them, no doubt to tell them that his son would be more than happy to follow their urging. Sanctimonious bastards. They stay in their hiding, giving out orders. They didn’t know how it really was. A memory of being trapped in a four-by-four Russian cell filled his mind, and for a moment, his breath stuck in his lungs. He was there, body trembling, weak from hunger and exhaustion, waiting for his tormentors to come and beat him again. He shook his head, and as quickly as it had come, the horrible memories receded. His brother’s heavy footsteps sounded outside the room. Liam reminded himself he was back home in Alaska, not trapped in a Russian holding facility. Cameron had been there too, presumably in the cell next to his, and yet, his younger twin showed no signs of the haunted dreams. He simply did what he had to do. And they had both escaped. “Hey bro, looks like you got yourself a live one,” Cameron said. Without asking he sank into one of the two chairs sitting in front of the desk and scanned the walls filled with pictures of their adventures across the globe. Some for fun. Some at the urging of the organization to which his father answered. Liam sighed. His younger brother acted the playboy, and lived it, too, from his sunstreaked brown hair the same shade as his own, to the board shorts he wore in spite of the highs that wouldn’t quite reach sixty degrees. “I want you to lay low for a while. There’s no need in you getting caught up in this craziness. I’ll take her out, show her what she wants to see. Hopefully she’ll be back in DC before long.” He reached for a topographical map and unfolded it on the nearly bare desk. One end leaned against his computer. He used a Ducks Unlimited mug to hold the other end down. Cameron leaned over the map. “Any idea where you’ll take her?” He wagged his eyebrows at his own double entendre. Used to his brother, Liam tried to ignore Cameron. “I thought we’d head towards the Brooks Range.” He traced a route leading well away from the oil fields. “Spend a few days out there. Let her see how wild and untamed it really is out here. Then hopefully she’ll do the right thing.” “Write the report telling them not to drill.” Cameron barked mocking laughter. “She’s from DC. She works for politicians. Even if she does the right thing, do you think that they’ll follow her recommendation?” “They better. It’s what the Quintursa wants done.” “They’re nothing but a bunch of old men out of touch with reality.” For a moment, Cameron’s façade faded to show the determined man beneath. Then he smiled, and once more his happy-go-lucky glamour was in place. “And right now, bro, reality looks pretty damn hot.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. “Stay away from her, Cameron.” Liam folded the map, not wanting to think about his brother making moves on Sarah. It was none of his business, though he’d looked for rings. Didn’t want a jealous boyfriend yelling about Sarah being alone with he and his brother in the middle of nowhere. The entire drive, he’d smelled the lavender scent of her shampoo, the light floral fragrance that surrounded her. One he hoped she didn’t take into 126

their tent. She smelled like springtime, and to bears and other animals with a keen sense of smell, that meant food. Around her, his body thought of something else all together. “Well, don’t we sound like a bear with a thorn in its paw.” Cameron straightened. He studied Liam for a moment. “All right. I’ll stay away like a good little boy. There’s something about this woman that you’re not telling me. Could be her long wavy hair, or the body that’s curved in all the right places. Or maybe, just maybe, my big brother has finally found a woman who’s going to get under his skin.” Laughing, Cameron turned on his heel and left the study. Liam watched him go. Once more, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Just listening to his brother’s words, teasing though they’d been, conjured a mental image of Sarah Doyle. Cameron pinned it right. She had long, wavy hair held back with a clip, and a body that-even under a baggy sweatshirt and jeans--definitely curved in all the right places. Long legs that made a man wonder what they’d be like wrapped around his hips. What Cameron didn’t mention was the intelligence in her hazel eyes. Or her scent. That lavender smell that tugged at his gut. Springtime. Food. Flowers. Everything he shouldn’t want and couldn’t have. He breathed a heavy sigh, still swearing he could smell her even through the floor that separated them. The Quintursa wouldn’t be happy with this development. Not at all. He fired up his computer, the wallpaper of an Alaskan Grizzly reminding him exactly what was at stake. Everything. Deadhorse, Alaska was as close as it came to a company town. As much as he’d hate to see the oil business and the jobs it brought leave, he’d hate to have this land and its creatures destroyed even more. A slippery slope, one he’d been walking all his life. The best he could hope for was that Sarah would write her report and Washington would listen. It was a long shot, but right now, it was all they had. The phone rang just as he checked satellite and weather maps to plan their camping excursion. Picking it up, he listened for his brother. Luckily, Cameron was gone. “Round the Bend EcoTours, Liam here.” “She’s arrived?” The Quintursa agent gave no greeting. He never did. From the sound of his voice, Liam thought it was the same one he’d been working with for a while, but he never could tell. Damn bastards were far too secretive by far. As if Liam would ever betray any of them, or their secret. “Yeah, she’s here. We’re heading out in the morning. I was just double checking the forecasts.” “Good. We have more information on Hodges Associates. I hope this Sarah knows what she’s getting into. Bill Hodges is in some mighty deep pockets, none of them friendly to our cause. I’m sending you everything we have. She is not to know. Understand?” Liam nodded, used to the super-spy secretive nature of the organization that governed his kind. Most of the time he thought they took themselves entirely too seriously. But then, several months in a Russian prison changed his outlook and his life. “Copy. She isn’t to know a thing.” “And anything you gather you’re to send directly to us. We want to know everything about this woman.”

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“Understood.” Already, Liam filtered his information. Some things, like how good she smelled, or the way he knew her breasts would fill his hands, he wouldn’t tell them. Hell, he had no business thinking that way. She was a human. Truth be told, he’d most likely never get a chance to find out anyway. “First impressions?” “I think she’s serious about this. Looks like she knows what she’s doing, though I’ll go over her equipment tomorrow. Didn’t come dressed in a power suit. She looks like she’s ready to go camping. I expect we’ll spend a few days out. I’ll show her the oil rigs. The damage the pipelines do to the environment and what happens when they break, then send her back so she can write her report about how increased oil drilling would be a determent to this national treasure.” “Good. Good. We need to make sure she stays sympathetic to our cause. You have authority to do whatever it takes to keep her on our side. Full authority.” The weight in the agent’s words, made Liam sit up straight in his chair. He’d never been given full authority before, always told in half-truths and couched language what he could, and couldn’t do. “Do you understand?” the agent asked, when Liam didn’t answer. “Yes. I do. Thank you. Full authority to keep her on our team. I hear you.” Already his mind raced with the possibilities. His body reacted differently. Mentally, he willed it to behave. He hadn’t had to seduce a woman yet to get what he wanted. Completely mutual and fully pleasurable. When it came to Sarah, totally out of line. “Keep us posted.” Then, without waiting for a reply, the agent hung up. Liam stared at the dead handset for a moment, before replacing it in the cradle. His email chimed with the anticipated information. Opening it, he scanned the document. Apparently Bill Hodges was quite the piece of work. Not liking what he read, or its implications for Sarah, he knew he’d be spending the next couple of hours stuck in his den. Now, more than before, he needed to warn Cameron away. Best Liam deal with this himself. A flash of movement outside the window pulled Liam’s attention from his computer. He leaned back, watching a bachelor grizzly lumber towards the stand of trees and bushes beyond the lodge. Liam didn’t recognize the animal. This time of year, bears congregated where they could to find food. He’d fielded bear complaints from Deadhorse citizens who couldn’t be bothered to bear-proof their backyards. To a creature determined to gain as much weight as winter, an unlatched garbage can created the perfect buffet. He frowned, knowing once again he’d have to fight the battle of humans versus nature. Inevitably, nature lost. He watched the juvenile male for several moments longer, half wanting to go upstairs and see if Sarah looked out her window at the bear. He doubted she’d seen one so close before. Perhaps this would be the perfect time to introduce her to Alaska’s wildlife from the safety of the lodge. He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. A hint of lavender filled the air. From his position behind his desk, he watched as she descended the stairs and went into the living area. A glance out the window showed the bear had left. Just as well. Maybe she should get her first glimpse of a grizzly in the wild, with nothing but a bit of canvas and him to protect her. Might make a better impact. 128

His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten much today. Dinner first. A chance to get to know Sarah better. He shut down his computer, deciding he’d done about enough work for today. The Quintursa authorized him to use any means necessary to convince Sarah to write a report recommending no further drilling in the refuge. For a moment, he wondered if that meant revealing his secret. He shook his head. They couldn’t have meant that. For centuries his kind had lived among humans, silent guardians trying to protect them from the things they did. Of course, prior to the 1900s, they’d spent more time protecting the humans from Mother Nature than the other way around. A smile quirked his lips. Funny how things changed. He glanced in the living area. Sarah stood at the windows, staring out into the Alaskan landscape. With her arms wrapped around her, she looked very vulnerable, very frail. He wondered what went through her mind. “I’ll start dinner in a little bit. Do you like salmon?” She turned and smiled. “I do. Thanks. I’m sure it’ll taste better up here than from the freezer at home.” “I’m sure it will. Is there anything you need? You settled in all right?” She nodded. “I’m good. Thanks.” He hoped so. From the bottom of his heart, he hoped she was good. Because if she wasn’t, more than an ecosystem rested on her report. She held the fate of an undiscovered species in her hands, and she didn’t even know it. And he couldn’t tell her.

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