Emergence

EMERGENCE

…Hope Bradley looked both innocent and alluring as she breathed deeply in the center of Oz’s bed. Her long black hair curled around her face and shoulders, a hint of the silken strands reaching out to touch one rosy areola that peaked under his regard. Her skin was so pale, so soft and smooth. Black hair covered her head but not her body, making the full lips between her thighs ripe for the plucking. Surprisingly full breasts graced an otherwise slim frame. Her arms and legs were toned, her belly flat and ridged with muscle, a sight that intrigued Deacon more than any woman ever had. Hope’s long lashes kept the midnight blue of her eyes hidden. And her lush, cherry-red lips captured the pearlywhite canines delicately covered by that sultry flesh. “I gotta have her,” Oz panted, and Deacon nodded in understanding. They’d shared women before, though not often. And as much as Deacon wanted Hope to himself, to fuck her until this burning hunger for her died out, he wanted Oz to know her as well. For his brother to feel the lusts of a vampire, to maybe understand what Deacon felt, and more, to know the rapture that Deacon would soon feel. Deacon watched as Oz leaned in, and he stopped his friend, a sudden realization startling him that he hadn’t thought of it before. “She’s going to bite you.” “Whatever.” And that more than anything told Deacon Oz was a goner. Never before had the man invited a vamp bite.

He was emphatically against sharing his blood. Or at least, he had been before Hope. Now he was panting, his body trembling as Hope’s and Deacon’s desire flooded the room…

ALSO BY MARIE HARTE Darkson’s Forfeit Firebreather A Royal Continuum

EMERGENCE BY MARIE HARTE

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

EMERGENCE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by Marie Harte ISBN 978-1-60272-186-9 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

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CHAPTER 1 Marksdale, Illinois Crouched behind an overturned crate covered in refuse and an ungodly stench better left alone, Deacon Cain stemmed the flow of blood at his neck with the heel of his left palm while also gripping the silenced .44 tight with his fingers. In his right hand, he held a two-way radio tightly and snarled, “I don’t give a shit what Genaro said about you keeping out of this. Get your ass down here and help me nail this one. The cops have gaps all over the perimeter, doing more harm than good. At this rate, our mark is going to skate. And there was another one…a female not like the others. We’ll need to pick her up, 1

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too.” “Didn’t fall for your pretty face, eh?” The humor in his partner’s voice set him on edge, and not for the first time did Deacon feel the need to bust that once-broken nose yet again. “Dammit, Oz. She nicked me, and I’m bleeding like a sieve. It’s only a matter of time before they’ll be coming out of the woodwork.” Deacon glanced around the seedy alley in one of Marksdale’s worst slums. He could feel the press of hungry gazes upon him. “Shit. I hear you.” On the phone, what sounded like keys and scuffling followed the slam of a car door. “I’ll be there in five. Had a feeling you might need me.” Thank God none of them followed their boss’s orders. “I don’t need you. Genaro needs you if we’re going to nab this particular vamp. I’m just lonely for your ugly-ass company. Now hurry the hell up before the mark bolts,” Deacon growled before shoving his high-tech walkie-talkie back into his jacket. He cursed the mysterious female again, pissed he’d let her catch him unaware. He thought he’d been so quiet, undetected as he watched their mark interact with more of his kind for over an hour. Just as the vamp had done twice a week for the past four months. Like clockwork, Magellan Fiero always met with the same fanged buddies, in groups of three and four, in this dangerously crime-ridden section of town. Why Genaro insisted they wait to bag him, Deacon had no idea. But he had a job to do, so like any other night on this miserable case, Deacon had watched and waited in his spot 2

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across the alley in the rundown apartment building on the ground floor. Deacon glanced behind him at the now-burning building, then across from him at the warehouse alive with the sounds of bullets, bare-knuckled brawling, and inhuman screeching. What the hell had he run into tonight? He tried to piece everything together as he waited for Oz to show. Everything had seemed normal up until a half hour ago… until a rush of unknown vamps entered the run-down warehouse. The minute Deacon had recognized one of them from Perimore’s Most Wanted sheets, he’d finally understood why Genaro had wanted them to wait. Magellan, apparently, had ties to the factious Underground, a clan of vampires who’d been striking at the very heart of Perimore Corp—Deacon’s employer. Excited at his find, Deacon had quietly gathered his transceiver to alert his squad when, in the span of a heartbeat, the few lights in the warehouse had gone dark and vamps scattered like roaches. Focused on the warehouse, Deacon hadn’t heard or sensed anyone behind him in the apartment. A surprise attack had nearly decapitated him, and if Deacon hadn’t possessed such quick reflexes, he’d now be dead. Fortunately, he always kept his weapon close. Two shots to the forehead had killed a tall, blond vamp. And another bullet through the ear into the brain had taken care of the brooding hulk who normally watched over Magellan. Unlike the movies, killing vampires wasn’t all that hard with the right equipment. They hated silver and sunlight and couldn’t survive without a brain. Stakes through the heart, 3

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unfortunately, did nothing more than piss them off. And at the speed vamps healed in conjunction with their superior strength, Deacon had always felt a silver bullet to the back of the head the wisest course of action. After dispatching his attackers, and knowing he’d be a fool to sit where the vamps knew he waited, Deacon had bailed out an open window, just in time to avoid a small detonation that lit the room and several unlucky vamps howling inside. Before he could question why the vamps would take out their own in pursuit of him, bullets had sprayed the alley and he’d ducked for cover. Once the noise cleared, Deacon had risen to take a shot in the direction of the shooters. But his instincts forced him to lean back and something stung his neck. Glancing up toward the roof of the warehouse, Deacon had locked gazes with the mysterious female who’d shown up tonight to meet Magellan. Covered in a hood that shadowed her face, her eyes, however, glowed like rubies in the dark. She’d held up a blade—much like the one currently embedded in the wooden crate by him stained with his blood—and through a blaze of moonlight, he saw her motion, as if blowing him a kiss. She’d faded back into the shadows, no noise or movement to identify her whereabouts. His neck throbbed where the knife had bitten into his skin, and Deacon cursed the situation, wishing Genaro had briefed them about the whole of it. Because despite the weapon in his hand and the strength he always held in check, Deacon felt curiously vulnerable as he waited for his partner. Blood 4

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attracted vamps like nothing else on the planet, and Deacon had unwittingly stumbled into what appeared to be a huge part of the underground vamp community. Or, as the press like to call the group, The Nox. Nox Liberi, Latin for “Night Children”—the politically correct term for bloodsuckers. Utter bullshit, in his opinion. If it had fangs and drank blood, walked and talked like a vampire, it was a vampire. Hell, he ought to know. But God forbid you said the word “vamp” around the liberal dogooders and PR ass-wipes at Perimore. The company’s public relation hounds were sticklers for nice and tidy, two characteristics Deacon and everyone in the Nox Squad were sorely lacking. Scurrying footsteps sounded just above him, forcing him to once more concentrate on the situation at hand, something he was finding increasingly difficult to do. Danger surrounded him, yet Deacon’s mind wandered when it should have been alert. And with his distraction came the realization that he’d reached a critical point in the month… and had gone without. Gone without and now faced a horde of angry vamps out for his blood. Shit. Talk about going from bad to worse. Glancing around, Deacon noted a few of the predators clinging to the walls above him, and he swore he could feel their hunger wrapping around him like bony fingers of need. He consciously ground his palm deeper into his wound, cherishing the contact with his own mortality. An adrenaline junkie, Deacon was never as happy as he was when immersed in a life or death situation. And he clearly understood that 5

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tonight would be much more than surveillance gone wrong, but a brush with death if he didn’t find his way out of this one. The next attack, when it came, knocked him on his ass, coming from out of nowhere. But a firm grip on his weapon proved advantageous, and Deacon fired one shot pointblank into the head of bloodsucker number one. Brain-dead, the guy lay there, his features obscured by the shadows and the overturned garbage cans littering the tarmac with more trash. Deacon met his second and third attackers, however, sensing them just before they landed on top of him. He fired again, plugging one in the neck and the other in the chest, narrowly dodging the bodies dropping out of the sky. The vamps hit hard but managed to find cover, disabled but not down, not yet. The female who’d nicked him, however, had yet to make another appearance, and the same with Magellan, whom Deacon hadn’t seen since the bullets had started flying. He feared that if he gave them much more time, they’d vanish. Four months of surveillance down the drain. No, he had to find Magellan and tag him before he could bury himself deeper in the Underground. Magellan… and the female. The female Deacon couldn’t see but could sense with every fiber of his being. He knew she was still out there, watching, waiting. As he stared at where she’d been, he wondered about her. Her hair color, her scent, the feel of her fangs as she pierced her victims’ necks while they shuddered in orgasmic ecstasy… 6

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A slam to the back of his head took him down, and Deacon knew he’d been still for far too long, his need for sustenance making him both weak and dangerously unstable. Unfortunately for the vamp leaning close with bared fangs, Deacon’s weakness disappeared under a frenzy of unnatural hunger. In two seconds he broke the vamp’s neck with preternatural skill, and within moments the sweet, tangy taste of blood slid down Deacon’s throat, washing away the pain and the needs burning him from the inside out. Fear of discovery tingled at the back of his mind, but the satisfaction from his kill overrode caution. Sated finally, Deacon released his hold on the vamp and slid to the ground, his being a mass of sensation as the vamp’s blood slowly fed his starving cells. What could have been seconds or hours later, heavy footsteps and the background of shrill sirens stirred Deacon’s awareness. “Shit, Deacon.” Oz’s voice sounded thready. “What the fuck?” “Oz?” Deacon felt something pass over his mouth and neck, and then… nothing. *

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From a darkened rooftop nearby, Hope Bradley stared at the dead bodies strewn about the alley, watching as two large men braced themselves in the middle of so much carnage. A tall, muscular, black male handled the dark-haired man she’d warned earlier, surprising Hope with his gentleness in such a warlike frame. 7

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Both men looked hard, carried weapons and appeared more than able to kill. Hell, she’d seen the dark-haired guy take on half a dozen vampires and live. Very, very strange, not to mention impossible, for a human. She would have paid him more attention if Magellan hadn’t been in danger. And from his own kind, no less. Magellan Fiero, her savior, now dead because she’d been a step too slow. Frowning and trying not to let the tears fall, she resolved to mourn her friend and dead brethren later, after she gathered the information and evidence she’d come here to acquire in the first place. Taking the bag Magellan had thrust her way before a Nox traitor had carved him up, Hope pulled the strap over her head and moved to leave. She could easily jump to the rooftop a few feet east of this one, and from there, make her way out of the slum toward the Upper East side, where she currently maintained a residence. But something stopped her, and she glanced down again at the pair slowly stumbling from the alley. The large male half-carried, half-dragged his bleeding companion with him, keeping one hand on his gun. The way both men moved and carried themselves, she figured them to be either Marksdale cops or Perimore Corp goons, and she didn’t know which was worse. A billion-dollar corporation, Perimore Corp had their hands in everything, the least of which were city politics. Ever since the Nox had been officially “accepted” a hundred years 8

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ago, the United States had turned into a country seething with intolerance—the exact opposite principles on which the country had been founded. Illinois, even in this day and age, was no different. And Marksdale, Illinois, now the capital of the state, was ruled with an iron—and very human—fist by Perimore’s prodigal son, Mayor Mark Perimore Wade the Fourth, asshole extraordinaire. Hope sneered, mentally comparing Wade’s playboy good looks and aristocratic carriage to the men in the alley. Whereas Wade bought his women and his intimidation, his thugs probably took what they wanted when they wanted it. As a Nox Liberi, Hope respected strength and the ability to enforce what was right. What she didn’t care for were obnoxious playboys who played dirty when they didn’t get what they wanted. And the equally corrupt police force in the city suffered a similar lack of conscience when Wade started throwing his money around. Which made her wonder where the humans in the alley fit. She still didn’t understand why she’d saved that giant bleeding all over the place. He’d been an instant from death at Perimore’s hands. Would have served him right to be killed by the very people he worked for. But if he was in fact one of the honest, hard-working members on Marksdale’s police force, she couldn’t just let him die. She’d meant to throw past him, but the guy had jerked, as if sensing her attack. She still didn’t know what to make of that. Regardless, he’d suffered a cut neck, but the bullets Perimore’s thugs fired his way had certainly missed their mark. Then again, if the corporation was 9

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shooting at him, maybe he really wasn’t a bad guy. A headache brewing from too much speculation, Hope clutched the bag to her side and ran toward the edge of the roof. Pushing off the building with incredible strength, she sighed as she felt the wind whispering over her, and she could only imagine how birds must feel when they flew. Landing gracefully on the balls of her feet, she continued her journey east, knowing home, and hopefully answers, were right around the corner. *

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Three hours later, Hope twitched as her restless night continued to plague her. As bad as the evening had gone, with her friends dying alongside the traitorous Nox, the fight should have alleviated her hungers. Yet Hope felt her body clamoring for something just out of reach. Bloodlust had never made her so fidgety, but Hope knew she’d find no relief or rest until she dealt with her immediate needs. Not wanting to but acquiescing to her body’s demands, she placed a phone call and waited. Twenty minutes later, an indecently beautiful man showed at her door. Thor, owner of one of the downtown Nox Liberi clubs, grinned as he stared at her in the open doorway of her apartment. “Baby, you going to ask me in or what? You know us humans can’t go where we’re not invited.” She smiled tiredly at his joke and stood back, shutting and locking the door behind him. When she turned, he was already there, his body warm, comforting and aroused against her. The 10

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last thing she should want right now was sex, but her weary mind deferred to her body, and she found herself growing wet as he pressed against her. She and Thor normally played a great deal before she fed from him, and as much as he’d asked her for more, she’d never felt comfortable having sex with a man she mostly thought of as a friend. She took his blood and he received an indescribable high, not to mention automatic orgasm, through the chemical stimulation of her saliva. Normally, drinking his blood was enough, but not tonight. Tonight she needed more, her dominant Nox coming to the fore. The touch of Thor’s cooler flesh made her hunger grow, and the Nox pheromone— what Perimore’s scientists labeled Tilanus—wafted from her skin in a heady perfume that wrapped around them both. Thor moaned against her mouth as she kissed her way over his neck, nipping but not actually biting his skin. “Christ, Hope, what’s with you tonight? Not that I’m complaining, but you’ve got me so hard I’m ready to come right now, and you haven’t bitten me yet.” She let up from his neck and realized he had his hands under her overlarge T-shirt and over her breasts. To her shock, her nipples swelled, and she closed her eyes, imaging someone else touching her, tasting her, taking her to bliss… The man from the alley, the one she’d nicked, setting his fingers over her nipples, putting his hot mouth where Thor never had and was currently moving right now. “Thor.” She arched into his mouth, astounded at how good his lips felt suctioned to her breast. A few tugs and he had her 11

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melting, her fangs lengthening as she panted with pleasure. “Take off my panties and touch me,” she ordered. Thor’s large hand rid her of her underwear, and he rubbed her mound, sliding his fingers between the wet cleft at the juncture of her thighs. “Hope, baby, can’t we fuck? Just once?” he pleaded, his arousal impossible to miss as it strained against his jeans, a hard bulge riding against her hip. “Can’t,” she moaned. “Don’t want to… hurt… you…” Some dim part of her knew if she took him inside her, she’d never be able to resist the compulsion to simultaneously feed. And that hunger would no doubt bleed him dry. “Then let me give you a little something before you give it back to me,” he rasped, sounding desperate as he waited. At her slow nod, he shoved a finger inside her. Hope bucked, stunned at the sensation she’d been missing for so long. His finger filled her, touching the inside of her that so few had ever reached. And then he added another finger, widening her as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Desire grew until it felt as if a monster had taken her over. She bit her lip, drawing on the coppery taste as she neared orgasm. Thor was a giving donor, but she’d never been so aroused with him before. She closed her eyes, reveling in their embrace, in his touch. Her imagination took flight: dark hair flashed, large arms encircled her and a deep voice murmured her name as something hot and thick pushed inside her… Her thoughts soared as climax rushed through her. Crying out, Hope rode Thor’s hand until she felt limp, her passion 12

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sated, if not her desire for blood. She blinked up into intense green eyes and soft blond hair and smiled. “Hope, honey, if you don’t bite me soon, I’m afraid I’m going to seriously lose it. Please. I’m on fire for you.” Blinking at the reality of what she’d done, she quickly led Thor to her bedroom. He threw off his clothes and lay down, waiting with anticipation, his cock long and hard and moist with arousal. “I’m begging, Hope,” he pleaded. Dismayed by his hoarse groan, at the desperation she’d forced on him, Hope quickly covered him and gently sank her teeth into his neck, welcoming the taste of his sweet, red nectar. Thor immediately tensed and began to shake, his body shuddering with delight as she drank down his blood. Rippling orgasms washed over him and he moaned her name as she brought him unceasing bliss with her bite. After a while he quieted, his breathing raspy as she gave him an aroused high from which he’d derive hours of pleasure. Finally sated, Hope pulled away from Thor. His eyes were closed, his mouth curled into a satisfied smile. And speaking of satisfied… She grimaced down at her messed shirt covered with his release. She tossed the dirty shirt into the laundry and left the bedroom to take a brief but refreshing shower, pondering her odd response to Thor. The Nox fed from humans. It was accepted as a way of life. Humans gave the Nox sustenance that other Nox simply could not. The oxygen rich cells she lacked in herself she 13

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found plentiful in Thor. And the genetic incompatibilities between the Nox and animals made drinking from them an impossibility. So the Nox drank from humans. Those humans receptive to bloodletting routinely found hosts to give them the high they wanted in exchange for blood. But there were rules, unwritten but there all the same. Hope never fed from Thor while having sex with him. One lust would lead to another, possibly pushing her into a frenzy that would see Thor dead while she sucked him dry. Hope had always been very careful to focus on blood, on the physical hunger for sustenance when with Thor. Tonight, however, his touch had made her think of that stranger from the alley, a male she had no business wanting, let alone thinking about. So why was she? And why had she let Thor touch her so intimately when always before they’d teased? Kissing, some petting, but nothing more than her need for blood and Thor’s orgasms, Thor’s pleasure. Sadly, Hope realized she’d have to end her association with him. No matter the reason for her odd behavior, she worried that if he affected her this way again, she might very well kill him. And Hope liked Thor too much for that. Her thoughts wandered as the warm water sluiced down her body. Now, that muscle-bound jerk from the alley, however… If he turned out to work for Perimore as security or as one of Perimore’s paid cops, she’d gladly take her turn with him. She had a history with certain members of the corporation that made friendly discourse with those assholes impossible. Hard to like a group that had once tried to kill 14

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you. But Hope had a feeling Mr. Muscles would bring her more pleasure and satisfaction than she could handle. Not to mention, should he indeed be associated with the wrong side of Perimore, the justice she’d feel in ridding the world of one more anti-Nox freak. Ecstasy for her, death for him. A winning combination.

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CHAPTER 2 Deacon groaned as someone helped him to sit up. Blinking into the bright sunlight streaming through his bedroom window, Deacon became aware of several things at once. He was no longer in the alleyway, but lay on his bed in his home. He wore clean sweatpants, but his clothing and gun were conspicuously absent. And Oscar Z. “Oz” Williams was staring at him as if he had three heads. “Deacon?” Oz stepped back and studied him, his features even, his dark brown eyes devoid of emotion. The vamps in the alleyway and the heady taste of rich, coppery blood came back to Deacon as he gazed at his partner. “Oz?” How much had Oz actually seen? Had he witnessed 16

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Deacon, a supposed human, killing a vamp with his bare hands? Or worse, had he seen Deacon drinking the vamp’s blood? “Want to explain why I found your mouth covered in blood, and why the vamp beside you had his throat ripped out?” Damn. What to say? “Spit it out. Because I’m not moving until I hear the truth.” Oz’s voice lowered ominously as he crossed his arms over his chest. Oz’s pistol, Deacon noted, gleamed on his hip. Deacon ran an unsteady hand through his hair, knowing he should have confided in Oz years ago. Hell, he and Oz had been through everything together from the time they’d both turned sixteen and run away from their state-run home. “First off, I’m not a vamp.” Oz nodded. “Obviously. Or you’d never be able to withstand sunlight. Tell me something I don’t know.” “Fine.” Deacon sighed. “My mother was infected before I was born. It made me, well, something else.” “What else?” “I don’t know.” Deacon edged his legs over the side of the bed and took a steady breath. Oz hadn’t moved, hadn’t tensed or reacted as if Deacon were a threat. And Deacon took that as a good sign. “We know that vamps drink blood. That they have superior senses and strength and live for a few hundred years before they die. They don’t tolerate sunlight. And they normally don’t produce half-human children.” “Come again?” Oz blinked and took a step back, sitting in 17

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a plush leather chair. He leaned forward, his interest palpable. “My mom always claimed I was the son of Satan, when she wasn’t swigging from a bottle of JD.” Deacon grimaced. “Far as I can figure it, her contamination wasn’t normal, because Mom wasn’t a vamp. I never knew for sure, but I think maybe my dad was.” “No shit.” Oz’s eyes narrowed. “But if that’s true, you should have taken vamp characteristics. The few cases of vamp and human progeny on file have always turned out vampire. Or so we thought.” “It’s the only explanation I have for who I am. I’ve been like this since I was six. And I couldn’t ask a doc to tell me the truth. The minute it’s clear you have vamp DNA you’re marked. I wanted a normal life. At least one out of the projects.” And away from my mother. Oz nodded. “So what’s with you drinking vamp blood? I thought vamps couldn’t drink from their own? They only do humans.” “I don’t know. It’s complicated. As far as I can tell, I’m human… and a little bit more. I’m stronger and faster, and don’t seem to be showing any signs of aging.” “Yeah, now that you mention it, you’re as pretty as you were after we left the Chicago PD. And that was what? A whole three years ago?” “Funny, smartass.” Deacon grinned, allowing himself the pleasure since it seemed Oz had accepted the truth. “I don’t have any problems with daylight. Can eat as much garlic as I want and am not allergic to silver. But once a month I need 18

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blood, vamp blood. Because if I don’t get it, I get a little, ah, loopy.” “Describe ‘loopy.’” This he hadn’t wanted to explain. But, hell, he owed it to his partner and best friend. “It’s like a vamp frenzy. You know vamps lose all restraint when they go into bloodlust, and I get dangerously strong and know exactly what I’m doing, even though I’m pretty much a victim to my instinctual need to feed. It sucks, but it’s my reality if I’m not careful. Not something you’d ever want to see.” Oz wiped a hand over his face. “I’ll say. Finding you with blood around your mouth was some weird shit, especially since it was obvious who you’d drunk from. And brother, you had a funky kind of glow. Like a clingy shadow of light, not to mention you had one helluva scent.” “Scent? What did I smell like?” At that, Oz flushed and stood, finally looking uncomfortable. “Forget I said anything.” “Ah, okay.” What the hell was that about? But Deacon didn’t want to push Oz more than he already had. “I’m sorry I never told you before. I meant to, but I didn’t want to screw up our friendship.” Oz muttered under his breath and closed the distance between them. He pulled Deacon to his feet, and for a moment, Deacon thought that was the end of it Then Oz’s meaty fist lashed out and connected with Deacon’s jaw. Deacon accepted it as his due and fell back onto the bed. 19

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“You son of a bitch. Next time use your brain. We’re family, Deacon. And family is all we got, right?” Deacon felt a burning behind his eyes and chalked it up to his throbbing cheekbone. “Right.” He cleared his throat and stared up at his friend. “Can I get up now? Or you planning on hitting me again?” Oz remained curiously silent before he glanced away. “Look, I admit I have a few secrets of my own. Things that lately don’t make much sense…” “Oz?” “Shit. It’s nothing. But I’ll tell you if it becomes something. See, I appreciate the fact that I can tell my best friend anything and he’ll roll with it. I trust you, Deacon.” Oz glared at him. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I held it in for so long. But let’s face it, buddy. Whenever we’re vamp-close, I can almost see your skin crawl. You have a thing against people with fangs. Why the hell would I have told you about me? You’ve said it yourself. I need all the friends I can get.” “Fine. But now you know better. When it comes to vamps…” Oz paused. “I can’t explain it. Let’s just say the scent of vamps puts my back up.” There it was again. Oz’s odd references to scent. But seeing the wild look in his friend’s eyes, Deacon decided to just drop it. “Great. So if all’s forgiven, can we get something to eat? I’m damn near starving.” The tension left Oz’s massive shoulders. “Right. And we 20

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can talk about what went down last night, and about this hot chick that nailed your throat.” Oz chuckled and yanked him to his feet. “And if you ever hold out on me about something this important again, I’ll feed you your fucking teeth one by one.” Deacon nodded. As they walked into the kitchen for food, he felt like he’d been freed from a huge burden. Whatever secret Oz was keeping couldn’t be worse than his. And no matter what it was, Deacon would stand by his friend, his brother. By the spark in Oz’s eyes, he knew the giant felt the same. *

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Two omelets and a pound of bacon later, Deacon leaned back in his chair and sighed with contentment. “Shit, man. Never seen you eat so much.” Oz eyed Deacon’s stomach and whistled. “Aftereffects from your blood binge, right?” Not having to hide it anymore was a huge relief. “Yep. But it’s my own fault. I should have fixed the problem before it became one.” “So how, or I guess the better question is, where do you get your blood? From a vamp, right?” Deacon shrugged. “I have a few contacts I’ve used for information that don’t mind trading. I take the blood offered, as well as the info, and provide protection in exchange.” Oz choked on his own coffee. “Protection? So all that crap about hating vamps…” Oz’s eyes narrowed. “You just playing me, Deac?” 21

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“A little. Now hold on a minute,” Deacon hurriedly said when Oz looked to lunge at him. “I really do hate the rogues we’ve been rounding up for Perimore. The drug pushers and runners concocting that damned vamp venom need to be put away for a long time. I mean, that shit’s more addicting than crack. But I realized early on that not all vamps are bad.” “Biased much?” Oz snorted. “I guess this means I was right about you.” “What?” “Those comments you mutter under your breath about Genaro and the corporation. Your attempts to get the rest of the guys to go easy on the Underground. Oh, don’t worry, Deacon. You’re subtle, man. But I know you.” Oz smirked. “I even suspected you weren’t quite human, but I thought I’d wait and let you tell me the truth. Only took you five years.” “Bullshit. You never knew a thing.” “Really? Do you honestly think I’d be this understanding about my best friend being all vampy if I hadn’t had some forewarning?” Deacon stared, considering Oz’s controlled menace. Truth be told, he was tolerating Deacon’s news awfully well. “Hell. When did you first suspect?” “At the twenty-fifth birthday party that Susie Herman gave you. Late that night, I nearly ran into a ragged looking vamp in an alleyway and was about to plug him before he could do me. But the bastard was nearly dead on his feet, a look of bliss on him, like he’d been drugged. And then I saw you looking pretty powerful.” Oz’s eyes took on an odd expression. “And 22

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that scent…like… Oh hell.” “What?” “Nothing, just something my grandmother once told me.” Oz looked spooked, and Deacon frowned. “You okay, buddy?” “So now that we know Genaro’s after the Underground and Magellan’s dead, where do we go from here?” Oz changed the subject and Deacon happily let him. Oz was putting off some weird vibes, and Deacon didn’t want their friendship suffering any more unexpected hits. Who knew how much more his friend could take before he reconsidered and said to hell with everything? “Tell me you don’t sense that Perimore’s not exactly been on the up and up with their whole vamp hunt, anyway? You’ve never liked the company, and you always hedge when we talk about it.” Oz continued, meeting Deacon’s gaze with a bland—normal—one of his own. Thank God. Deacon swallowed another mouthful of coffee and reluctantly nodded. “Genaro didn’t tell anyone he was going after the Underground, just that he wanted some suspected Nox drug runners watched. So why is he holding out on us? Hell, Perimore created the Nox Squad to keep the public, and the company, safe. What’s going on that’s keeping Genaro quiet? Suspected in-house traitors? More politicking with that asshole Wade?” “Thinks because he owns the police department he can tell the corporation what to do.” Oz snorted. “Good thing Perimore’s stocks went public fifty years ago. Only the 23

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public’s controlling interest keeps the mayor in check.” “You got that right.” Deacon ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Mark Wade practically controlled the city. The town had been named for one of his forefathers, and he literally owned the law since Illinois had turned peacekeeping over to wealthy private citizens decades ago due to the city’s financial burdens. Marksdale now sparkled like a gem, if you discounted the rough edges of poverty and greed surrounding Wade and his bastion of boot-lickers. For the right price, companies like Perimore thrived in the midst of drug wars and crime on the rise. The only reason Deacon and Oz had joined a monster like Perimore Corp in the first place was because they’d been recruited, tempted by the ability to do some actual good, minus all the red-tape the department battled daily. The creation of the Nox Squad was supposed to dampen natural Nox aggression and stamp out the public’s fear of the bloodsuckers—of the rogue bloodsuckers, Deacon reminded himself. Only the best in the state police departments and military had been hired. But even with all the squad’s experience, who knew how much they’d actually managed to accomplish? Deacon sighed and concentrated on Oz, who waited patiently for him to continue. “Oz, something’s going on. Last night, groups of vamps were fighting each other, and that never happens. Almost as strange as vamps coming together, when for the most part, they’re solitary creatures.” “Don’t you mean people?” Oz smirked. “I mean, now that you’re one of them. Does that mean I should call you one of 24

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the Night Children? The Nox Liberi? Or do you prefer ‘creature’? Maybe just ‘vamp’?” “Dick.” Deacon punched Oz in the shoulder hard enough to bruise. “We need to know what Genaro’s agenda really is. And to say I don’t trust him is an understatement. It’s always bothered me that a man with so much power in the company oversees our small squad. Should have some minion of his doing it, you know? Weird chain of command, if you asked me.” “Yeah.” Oz rubbed his shoulder. “Think we should bring the rest of the team in for this? I know Flynn and Simon are out of pocket, but Billy and the others might need to know where we’re going with this.” “Eventually.” Though the Nox squad technically worked for Perimore to clean up the supernatural citizens in Marksdale, the squad actually did what they thought best under Flynn’s leadership. But with Flynn away on temporary leave, Deacon figured their best course of action would be to control the situation as best they could, with discretion. “For now, let’s just keep it between you and me. I don’t know if you’ve felt it, but lately I’ve sensed something not right in the squad. It’s like one of us isn’t exactly one of us, if you know what I mean.” Oz frowned. “And if you aren’t counting yourself,” he paused and grinned at the finger Deacon shot him. “I thought I was the only one feeling that way. The last op we were on nearly went to hell. At the time I thought it was circumstance, but now I’m not so sure. I’d hate it if one of our guys isn’t on 25

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our team.” “Yeah, but if he’s not on our team, who’s he playing for? The Underground? Organized crime? Mark Perimore Wade the Fourth? I think that if, and I do mean if, one of us isn’t being honest, he’s probably playing for Wade’s boys— Perimore’s A team. “Genaro’s been tying our hands for no good reason, and it’s like pulling teeth to get answers about what the company’s been doing lately with the vamps we bring them.” Deacon quieted, asking the question he and Oz had been tossing around for months. “In the past year, the vamp venom polluting the city has doubled while we continue to bring Perimore more and more supposedly rogue vamps. Oz, do you really think the Underground is responsible for the new wave of venom polluting the city?” Oz looked troubled, and Deacon experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of his belly. Not good. “No, I don’t. You want the truth? I think the corporation is less than honest with us on a lot of fronts. And I think the reason they want the Underground so damned bad isn’t to rid the city of drugs, but to bury whatever answers they don’t want found. If we want the truth, we need to find us a bad-assed vamp who’s not afraid of Perimore. Someone with the Underground, maybe.” Deacon immediately recalled the female who’d manage to wound him, and he fingered his healing neck. “You know, with the right incentive, I bet Magellan’s friend will tell us everything we want to know, or at least point us in the right direction. We just have to find her.” He made a snap decision. 26

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“Let’s check in and share what we know with Ghost. Another set of eyes and ears couldn’t hurt. We know he’s safe, and he’ll cover us with Genaro while we find out what’s what.” Ghost hated Perimore almost as much as he hated drug pushers and murderers. To this day Deacon still didn’t know why the man had joined the Nox Squad. “And then?” Oz stood, taking one last drink of coffee. “And then I’ll introduce you to a special friend of mine with a rack to die for and a great set of teeth.” Good old Cherry, who’ll lead us to that other female who owes me, big time. And she’ll pay with her mouth, one way or another. *

*

*

Hope stared at the very spot where Magellan had taken his last breath. A week later, and she still couldn’t stop seeing his Nox guard, Dallas, standing over him with a silver dagger in hand. Then the lights had dimmed and Dallas had vanished as if he hadn’t just killed the leader of their last hope—the Underground. Her eyes burned, the need for vengeance almost as strong as her need for blood. After saying good-bye to a tearful Thor, she’d been hesitant to use her regular sources, for fear she might do to them what she’d almost done to Thor. Hope couldn’t imagine living with herself if she’d lost control and killed a friend. So, thinking that perhaps her connection to her donors had increased her desire to drain them, she’d turned to those who sold their blood for money. A disgusting practice, but for the right price, she’d scored two clean, willing women. 27

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Women—who didn’t instill the same lusts Thor had. She paused in thought, aware Thor had never before made her want so desperately. It had to be that male from the alley, the one who haunted her thoughts, aroused her desires and confused the hell out of her, all at the same time. For days, she’d recounted what she knew, gathering what information she could from her sources on the street. Unable to resist, Hope moved to the window overlooking the alley below. Even under the moonlight, she imagined the brown-haired male hunkering down below the crates, clutching at the sweet blood pouring through his fingers. It made no sense to desire a man she’d never clearly seen, but she when she thought of him, she recalled the faint scent of cinnamon in the air. Without a clear picture of him, she could only piece together what she’d been told along with fragments of memory from that night a week ago. Deacon Cain, a former Chicago Police Department officer now working on the Nox Squad, Perimore’s elite security team that specialized in taking down what Perimore Corp considered rogues, stirred her curiosity. Disappointed in Cain, though she shouldn’t have been, Hope found herself relishing the opportunity to meet him face to face once more. She fantasized about using him to sate herself sexually while giving him what he deserved for hunting down her friends, all in the name of prejudice and the almighty dollar. Images of a hazy Cain naked and bound before her had her frowning. The enemy shouldn’t spawn so many sexual fantasies, because desire was a weakness Hope herself had used to ensnare an 28

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opponent. With a sigh, she realized she would just have to kill him and be done with it…after he told her what she needed to know. A soft noise alerted Hope to the fact that she wasn’t as alone as she’d thought, and she spun around to study the quiet space. Quickly palming a throwing knife in one hand and a gun in the other, she put her back against the wall and faded into the shadows. Only her kind would be able to see her now, her ability to fold into the light one that confused humans well enough. “Come on out, honey. I’m not gonna bite.” A large male rounded the corner, and Hope recognized him as the one who had been helping Cain the other night. What was his name? Oscar something? She cocked her pistol and he froze, his eyes narrowing on the dark wall along which she stood. He raised empty hands, showing her the gun he had strapped to his waist. Yet his very acquiescence told her he wasn’t alone. Cain was with him, somewhere. Her jittery nerves confirmed it. “I know you’re here. Now why don’t you come on out so we can talk?” She put her finger over the trigger and readied to squeeze. “One move and you’re going to seriously hurt. Now tell your partner to join you.” “Partner?” “Deacon Cain, your partner. Do it now, or I’ll blow off your left kneecap. Makes walking a little tough, you know.” He frowned and took a healthy step back. “Kind of 29

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bloodthirsty, aren’t you? Aside from the obvious, I mean.” “For a vamp?” She hated that word. So many races and ethnicities cried foul at the use of any derogatory term. And people were nowadays jailed for using one. But to insult a “bloodsucker” went unnoticed, it was so common. As if Hope had asked to be born like this, so different, so reviled. Was it her fault a meteor shower had introduced the population to alien spores that managed to not only live, but thrive in certain human hosts they took? Or that after several generations, the spores would forever alter their hosts’ DNA, so that a new race of people were born with the genetic anomaly of what people called vampirism? Hope considered herself a Nox Liberi, the polite world’s description of what she’d become. Night Children sounded much better than Nosferatu and references to creatures that turned into bats, for God’s sake. Stepping out of the shadows to speed this up, she saw Oscar’s eyes widen with appreciation. Typical. Hope had yet to meet a male who didn’t respond to her enhanced prettiness and scent. The virus knew what it was doing. How better to draw prey than to appeal to its ideals of beauty and attraction? “I’ve been told ‘vamp’ is an ugly word.” Oscar smiled, and she was startled to note how handsome he looked with a grin on his face. “You prefer Nox, right?” “What I’d prefer is for your sorry-assed partner to show his face. You have three more seconds before you say goodbye to that left knee.” She lowered the muzzle of her weapon, aiming true. “One, two—” 30

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As she’d suspected, Cain attempted to attack her from her blind side. Despite what she’d seen him do in the alley, however, she hadn’t anticipated his overwhelming strength and agility. A mistake. His body slammed into hers with such speed and force she could do little but roll with him. He tried to knock her weapons out of her hands, but she held tight. And as Hope fought for freedom, she realized she might have bitten off more than she could chew. Suddenly another pair of hands wrestled her gun from her hand. She stabbed at Oscar with her knife but caught Cain instead, who swore and suddenly pinned her helplessly beneath him as if she were of no more consequence than a pesky fly. Winded, she could only stare up at him in awe. “What the hell are you?” No human could overpower a Nox Liberi. Not even Oscar with all his muscles could have overthrown a Nox with as little effort as Cain had shown. “I’m the law. And you’re going to answer a few questions for me, Hope. One way or the other.” She glared at him, flashing a set of fangs in her anger. But the terror and anger she might have expected to see on Cain’s face didn’t come. Instead, hunger flashed in his gaze, a burning need soon reflected by the large body pinning hers to the ground. She felt the push of his firm erection against her groin, and despite the knowledge that an attraction for this man was not only stupid but dangerous, her body melted under his. “Wow. You two are putting out some serious vibes.” 31

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Hope managed to break eye contact with Cain and glanced at Oscar, who stood over them both with a massive erection straining his jeans. Good Lord, but she could feel a frenzy building within her, and she’d just fed last night. Two lusty males wanting sex with her, their blood pumping like mad with their bodies’ zeal to procreate. Her gums ached as her fangs protruded farther, and she could feel her pores pushing the pheromone through her skin. The sudden vision of what she’d done to Thor several nights ago penetrated. Desire throbbed, and she tried to warn them away as she struggled in Cain’s hold. She wanted answers, and she wouldn’t get them if she gave in to the lust beginning to overtake all sense. “Back off,” she growled, her voice low. “You’re fucking with the wrong Nox.” “Not yet,” Cain murmured, his green eyes fairly glowing as he lowered his head toward hers. “But soon, baby, soon.” “Shit. Deacon. Here? Now?” Oscar rubbed his cock through his jeans, his features twisting with arousal. “Dammit, she’s getting me rock hard. It’s never been this bad before, and it shouldn’t be now.” From Magellan’s information, Hope knew that some of Perimore’s people had been inoculated with blockers to dampen the effect of vamp-induced lust from the drugs they routinely confiscated, as well as from the Tilanus the Nox emitted. “She’s got some powerful pheromones,” she heard Cain say as if from a distance. “And this isn’t synthesized.” The wound she’d made on his forearm was too near to disregard, his spicy blood too damned tempting. She tried to 32

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rationalize the taking of it as a sound thing to do. In her saliva, Hope possessed a chemical which affected humans by altering their suggestive inclinations. And though she’d never heard of another Nox who could do so, Hope had polished the ability to increase her influence over others with harder, deeper bites. So without another thought, she bucked under Cain’s hold and grabbed him. Clamping her lips to the knife wound on his arm, she began drawing in the life-quenching liquid with long, slow swallows until her reasons for taking his blood no longer mattered. Her sex throbbed along with her canines as she tasted the promise of coming bliss. “Oh, yeah,” Deacon groaned and pushed his arm harder into her mouth. In a flash, he had her cuddled on his lap off the ground as she fed. And before she could process anything more than the taste of his enticing essence, he pushed her hair back and pulled her harder into his arm. Pain suddenly centered in the crook of her neck, and to her shock, she felt him feeding from her. “Alright, you two. Enough. Christ. At least take it somewhere clean.” Oscar sounded frantic but Hope was too far gone to deal with the human. Drugged on Deacon’s taste, she wanted nothing more than to savor the bite of lust in his blood. To feel him thrusting deeply inside her while she fed. Unfamiliar hungers teased one another, the taint of repulsion she should have felt at combining blood and sex in one act nowhere to be found. Deacon, however, showed some restraint. He broke his 33

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hold on her neck and licked the spot, his cock so stiff against her she thought he might break. “You’re right.” His voice was hoarse. “Let’s get her home, now.” Hope wanted to protest, even tried to pull away from the decadent taste of his blood, but Deacon wouldn’t let her. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. First we’re going to take care of this. And then we’ll get to the rest. Just suck it, Hope. Slow, deep draws.” Ignoring the fact that he knew her name, she licked at the salty flesh covered in his blood, taken with his scent, the faint smell of cinnamon overlying the coppery heaven saturating her body. He murmured something in that husky voice that made her want to devour him whole, and then oblivion overtook her, and she floated in ecstasy, unaware of anything but Deacon Cain.

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CHAPTER 3 Half an hour later, Oz licked his lips as he stared at the beautifully naked Nox lying in the middle of his bed. “Damn, Deacon, what’d you do to her?” “I used my blood to sway her. You know the way vamps mesmerize humans? I’ve found I can control them, but only if I take their blood. And it’s a good thing I put her out, or we’d have been fucking in that nasty warehouse. She’s sexier than any Nox I’ve ever met.” Oz stared down at Hope, his arousal impossible to miss in his heated stare and the obvious erection straining his jeans. The minute they’d entered the house, they’d taken Hope straight to Oz’s room, which held the bigger bed, and stripped 35

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her to nothing. The sight of the sexy woman lying so vulnerable in bed had made Deacon’s skin itch to touch hers, and he found the press of clothing unbearable. Without speaking, he began stripping out of his clothes, and Oz followed suit. Thanks to the inoculations Perimore insisted the squad take, he and Oz were immune to STDs and the ability to impregnate a female, at least for the next three months, before they’d have to take another dose. So thank God, no need for condoms. Because the thought of filling Hope with his cum was more than enough to set Deacon on fire. Naked and hungry for more than blood and sex, Deacon wondered what it was about the woman that made him crave with such intensity. He studied Hope Bradley, an unassuming name for a woman who packed such a carnal punch. And speaking of punch… Deacon glanced at her small arsenal on Oz’s desk and couldn’t help but grin. “I think I’m in love.” Oz smirked, staring at Deacon’s groin. “Yeah, I can see that. It’s been a while, but I’m all for sharing. You?” “Yeah. But mind what I say about her. Nox thrive on dominance,” he emphasized, not wanting to refer to Hope as a vamp anymore. A sudden need to possess her struck him, and he had to force back a growl as Oz shifted closer to her. “Let me take charge of her while you get yours. But hurry the hell up or I’ll be fucking whatever hole I find. I can tolerate her pheromones longer than you can. But only for so long, got me, Oz?” 36

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“Yeah.” Oz’s body was hard and hungry. He paused, however, before joining Hope on the bed. “I don’t understand this. I don’t like vamps. But this one, she’s different. She seems so human. And I have to have her.” He glanced at Deacon, confusion lining the desire in Oz’s troubled gaze. “You sure this is okay? I’m not cool with taking a woman who’s out of it. And she seems pretty vulnerable.” Deacon shook his head as he stepped close enough to Hope to reach out and touch her. “Trust me. When the bloodlust hits, all the hungers are there. She’s just processing what I gave her, and for some reason my bite has a decidedly sexual effect on the Nox.” Deacon glanced down at his arm even now healing from Hope’s bite. Odd, but that had never before happened so quickly. “She took my blood willingly enough, and she’s gonna really need it. As pleasurable as this will be for us, it’ll be just as good for her. Not to mention it’ll save her from draining some poor sucker dry. I can control her.” “Yeah, okay then.” Still, Oz seemed reluctant, and Deacon knew why. Hope Bradley looked both innocent and alluring as she breathed deeply in the center of Oz’s bed. Her long black hair curled around her face and shoulders, a hint of the silken strands reaching out to touch one rosy areola that peaked under his regard. Her skin was so pale, so soft and smooth. Black hair covered her head but not her body, making the full lips between her thighs ripe for the plucking. Surprisingly full breasts graced an otherwise slim frame. 37

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Her arms and legs were toned, her belly flat and ridged with muscle, a sight that intrigued Deacon more than any woman ever had. Hope’s long lashes kept the midnight blue of her eyes hidden. And her lush, cherry-red lips captured the pearlywhite canines delicately covered by that sultry flesh. “I gotta have her,” Oz panted, and Deacon nodded in understanding. They’d shared women before, though not often. And as much as Deacon wanted Hope to himself, to fuck her until this burning hunger for her died out, he wanted Oz to know her as well. For his brother to feel the lusts of a vampire, to maybe understand what Deacon felt, and more, to know the rapture that Deacon would soon feel. Deacon watched as Oz leaned in, and he stopped his friend, a sudden realization startling him that he hadn’t thought of it before. “She’s going to bite you.” “Whatever.” And that more than anything told Deacon Oz was a goner. Never before had the man invited a vamp bite. He was emphatically against sharing his blood. Or at least, he had been before Hope. Now he was panting, his body trembling as Hope’s and Deacon’s desire flooded the room. Deacon was nearly drunk on it himself. “Okay, but I’m watching. The minute it’s too much, tell me.” Having to wait to have Hope was taking all of his willpower. And the strange possessiveness he was beginning to feel about the Nox began to unnerve him. Oz nodded and leaned down to kiss Hope. “Wake up, baby.” “Open your eyes and look at him, Hope,” Deacon 38

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murmured, instilling a command he knew his previous bite would force her to obey. She slowly groaned, her breath fanning Oz’s face with a sweetness Deacon could smell even an arm’s length away. His cock pearled with cream, and he gripped himself, fighting for control, for the urge not to push Oz out of the way and mount the woman here and now. “Os-Oscar?” She licked her lips, and both men groaned. Oz kissed her gently, and Deacon caught hold of his own needs, delaying his pleasure as he watched his best friend take Hope. “Call me Oz.” Oz deepened the kiss before lifting his head to stare down at her, waiting. For a split second they all remained frozen. And then a wash of need crashed over them as Hope let loose the reins on her full desire. The effect was devastating. “Mother of God,” Oz groaned before she pulled him down to her. Deacon watched as Oz shoved her thighs apart and plunged deep, no finessing or coaxing required. Oz was a big man, but Hope, fragile-looking Hope, took him like a champ. Oz broke the kiss and leaned up, but not far enough away to stop Hope from closing her lips around his nipple. Fully expecting her to bite, Deacon was surprised when Oz continued to pump, not coming immediately. Hope must not have bitten him, and the sight of her sucking on Oz, her ripe lips surrounding his friend’s darker flesh, was so erotic it shot Deacon’s control all to hell. 39

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No longer able to wait, he joined the pair on the bed. Oz grinned and nodded, and pulled out of Hope only to rearrange the pair. He sat back on his knees and pulled Hope’s hips up to meet him, sliding his glistening cock back into her. Oz threw back his head and panted as he fucked her, his large hands holding her tight. Deacon felt Hope’s desire like a throbbing in his bones, and he took one perfect nipple in his mouth and bit, hard. She gasped, arching into Deacon’s mouth. Oz groaned. “Shit, Deac. Do that again. God, she is so fucking hot, so wet.” Oz began pounding into her with greater, faster strokes, and Deacon clung to her nipple, drawing on her incredible taste. He gave her other breast as much attention, his cock so hard he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He let her go and ravaged her mouth, aware that this woman had managed what no one else ever had. Even before when he’d been a victim of bloodlust, he’d held a small part of himself back. But with Hope, he couldn’t find it in himself to hold anything back. She had his undivided attention, his complete desire. And his every fantasy narrowed into what it would feel like to thrust inside her, to fill her with his seed in every way possible, and then some. Deacon commanded her mouth as he teased her fangs and took charge of her tongue. With bold strokes, he did to her mouth what he wanted to be doing with his dick right now. Thrusting in and out, taking what was his until he was spent… A heartbeat from coming on the bed, Deacon stilled and heard 40

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Oz nearing his end. Turning, he saw the sweat beaded on Oz’s forehead, saw the man’s tight abs flexing with every powerful thrust and heard his groans as he neared completion. Needing Oz to finish so he could begin, Deacon followed instinct. He shot to his knees and straddled Hope’s belly, facing Oz. “What—” Before Oz could finish the thought, Deacon bit his neck and began drinking. Oz tried to jerk away but Deacon held him tight. Surprisingly, Oz resisted his body’s call to orgasm, and the odd, chocolaty taste in the man’s blood made Deacon’s head spin. He drank for several moments before Oz groaned and finally began shuddering. Deacon groaned with him, more than aware of his own pressing need as his cock, brushed Oz’s belly… and he liked it. The thought of taking Oz in the ass grew stronger as he continued to feed, and when Oz continued to come, Deacon thought to demand his obedience, wanting to master Oz’s frenzy. Hope moaned, and like that, the connection between Deacon and Oz weakened. Despite his lust, Deacon withdrew from Oz and licked his neck to seal the wound. Unsteady, Oz looked ready to pass out with a huge, dopey grin on his face. “That was fucking incredible.” Oz pulled out of Hope, still surprisingly hard though cum seeped from his slit. “Finish it, man.” Taking Deacon’s hand, he wrapped it around his cock and sighed with pleasure. “Oh, yeah. Make me come again. I’ve needed this for so long.” 41

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Stunned, but in the grip of his own needs, Deacon shoved his friend onto his back beside Hope and began jerking him off. Oz stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, and his gaze pushed something beastly in Deacon. The need to control Oz’s pleasure mixed with Hope’s scent, and as Deacon pushed his friend toward another orgasm, he felt satisfaction that he’d proven himself master of them all. Hope leaned over Oz, covering half his chest. Her dark hair spilled over Oz like an inky scarf. Deacon saw a flash of her teeth before she bit Oz’s nipple. As if a switch had been thrown, Oz roared and shot like a geyser, his cum coating Deacon’s hand and some of Hope’s belly. She sucked the small nub while Deacon milked Oz’s cock until his erection finally flagged. Hope released Oz’s nipple and leaned back, her eyes wide. But before she could put any distance between them, Deacon grabbed her arm and drew her to his side. Neither looked at the other, but stared down at Oz. A look of utter bliss crossed his face, and Oz sleepily motioned for Deacon and Hope to lean down. “Thanks,” he murmured and kissed Hope. Then he shocked Deacon by doing the same to him. The feel of Oz’s mouth was shockingly carnal, and Deacon wondered that he felt such attraction for his best friend when he’d never before had such feelings for a man. Within seconds, however, Oz was asleep, his body high on the drugging effect of their bites. Hope closed her eyes and licked a crimson drop off her lower lip. And Deacon had had enough. He growled low in his 42

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throat, and Hope blinked up at him. “He tastes really good,” she whispered, glancing at Oz in puzzlement. “Like chocolate?” She shook her head and fixated on Deacon, and her eyes narrowed. “What have you two done to me?” “It’s called lust, sweetheart.” Was that gruff voice his? “Now let’s get cleaned up. Neither of us is finished, I don’t think.” He could still smell her need, and it was eating at him. “We have to shower. Now.” The flash of red in her eyes warned him to back off. But the beast within him recognized its like and howled its approval. He could feel bloodlust rising within him again, and wondered if he and Hope would make it out of this joining intact. Two beings with a need to control. Two creatures with a hunger for blood…and hot, dangerous sex. Deacon held out a hand and she took it, leaving the bed like an angel with blood-red eyes. They walked with each other warily, approaching the large shower stall in the bathroom, and regarded each other with both hunger and caution. Deacon took the next step, not letting this particular Nox manage him. He felt an instinctive need to dominate, to take what he wanted without asking. “Get in.” “You get in.” Her eyes glowed, her posture dared him to cross her, and her breathing had her breasts flushed and her nipples hard. Two nubs he wanted to bite and suckle again until she came. Deacon started the shower and notched the temperature at 43

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a mild warm. He pulled her into it and grabbed a bar of soap. Forcibly washing her, he caked on the soap over her breasts and between her thighs, wanting her clean when he went down on her. God, he wanted to taste her, to feel her pleasure burst as he savored that clit. Shaking with his own need, Deacon rinsed her off and turned her around, pressing her breasts against the cool tile. “Spread your ankles.” She didn’t move, pleasing him with her stubbornness. With Oz, she’d permitted the big man to take her, controlling the outcome by allowing it to happen. But with Deacon she fought, increasing his need to have her. Only a strong male would take Hope to ground. And Deacon planned on fucking her until they were both spent. He kicked her feet apart and covered her, holding her hands in place against the wall of the shower. “I’m going to fuck you until you scream, Hope. I’m going to eat you, and take your blood and bathe in it if I fucking want. Because I’m your master, baby. I own you tonight.” And tomorrow, and the next day, some animalistic part of him added. A part far from rational. But Deacon couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to wash her with his cum, to mark her as his. Now. Hope panted, her body arching into his, and her ass teased his cock one too many times. “No one owns me. I’m one of the Night Children.” She glanced over her shoulder and licked her lips, her gaze focused on his mouth. “Yeah, well, I own the night.” Deacon let go of her wrists and spun her around so that her back hit the wall. Lifting her 44

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ass in his hands, he spread her thighs and positioned the head of his cock at her moist entrance. With one quick thrust, he impaled her. Groaning, he began pumping his hips, nearly losing it when her walls clamped down on him and she began moaning his name, gripping his shoulders with her small hands. She held him as if she wanted to both push him away and pull him tight, and her conflicting resistance set him on fire with the need to dominate. His balls felt so tight he wanted to burst, and his cock had never been so damned hard or thick before. He was building to an all-consuming pitch as he took her harder, his thrusts jolting her into cries of need. But it wasn’t enough, and they both knew it. The water beat down on them as he stared into her eyes, seeing the angry red flames vanish beneath twin orbs of dark blue desire. “Lock your ankles behind my back,” he ordered as he lifted her higher, enabling him to brush her clit with each press of their bodies. She clung with welcome as he slammed home time and time again. “I need…” Hope panted as he took her, soft, breathy moans that demanded he ride out their passion. “What? Tell me,” he growled and sucked at her pulse, but not piercing with his teeth, as he brought them closer to climax. “Bite me,” she whispered, tilting her head to offer her neck. The submissive gesture nearly undid him. And then she added an almost inaudible, “Please.” 45

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Deacon didn’t need to be told twice. He sank his fangs into her neck, feasting on the full-bodied sweetness of her blood. The taste exploded on his tongue even as he came inside her, his orgasm all-consuming. He was dimly aware of her taking her own pleasure, of her shattered cry as she clenched him tight and pierced his shoulder with her fangs. The blood and fluid surging between them created a bond he was loath to break, even after his knees started to go weak from such an intense coupling. She finally eased her teeth out of him, and he murmured his protest. The small pain felt good, a testament to his vitality and hers. And her fangs that bespoke her inhuman heritage, that sameness, gave him a sense of belonging as nothing before ever had. With regret, he released his hold on her and withdrew from her warmth, allowing her body to slide slowly down his. This close, he was reminded of her smallness, how fragile she appeared next to his large frame. Protective urges rose, the desire to keep the female safe, to guard her while he took her again and again in hopes of prolonging his line… Deacon shook his head, bewildered at the thoughts racing through him. “Deacon?” Hope cupped his jaw and he closed his eyes, nuzzling her palm. God, she felt so damned good. After feeding, his senses were enhanced. And the smell of him all over her, of their mixed scents, aroused him anew. Despite the water washing away the seed that dripped down her thighs, his scent was imprinted in her flesh. He could almost see it there, 46

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lingering like a title of ownership. “Hold on, Hope. I need to taste you.” He barely knew what he said, his gaze focused on the smooth pussy under the spray of water. Taking to his knees, he moved quickly, not giving her time to protest. Deacon clamped his mouth over her clit, the nub still engorged as it throbbed with her spent release. He tasted her spicy cream, his mixed with hers, and his cock hardened like a stone. With one hand he began stroking himself while he licked and suckled her. She clenched her fingers in his hair, the fight in her still there under the surface, but her tight grip quickly eased as she began grinding her hips closer to his mouth. Her breathy moans took him closer to completion. “How are you doing this to me?” He glanced up, the sight of her flushed breasts making him wish he had another mouth and more hands, to experience all of her at once. Instead, he closed his eyes and focused on her clit, teasing the small bud with pricks of his teeth and the light press of his tongue. She was so fucking wet, and he needed to come again. Taking her deeper into his mouth, Deacon jerked himself faster, harder. “I’m coming.” She gushed into his mouth, and Deacon found his release. He jetted onto the shower floor and swallowed her essence, wanting to savor forever the tangy treat. Grunting as he lapped her, he continued to shoot, amazed at his own 47

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stamina. When finally he ceased, he gave her one last swipe of his tongue and stood. Hope, he noted, swayed on her feet, her eyes closed as what looked like bliss racked her body. Her nipples were hard, her breath coming in pants and gasps. When she opened her eyes, he saw they were hazy, sated with desire. “That was… I don’t… Cain…” She couldn’t seem to speak as she stared at him, her gaze both replete yet puzzled. “I know.” He slicked her hair back, marveling at her purity, at the glow of her skin and the shine in her eyes. “I’ve experienced bloodlust and cravings, but never anything like this.” A sudden thought grabbed him and he felt himself flush. Hell. Had he really jerked off his best friend, too? What the hell kind of aphrodisiac was this woman? She grinned, surprising him. “I should be mad at you for taking advantage, but if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, I might have hurt Oz.” Her grin faded, replaced by speculation. “You’re not upset about that small bite I gave him, are you?” “Hell, no.” Now Deacon knew he was blushing. “I know what that looked like, what he and I, ah, did, but I’m not into men. Really. There was just something about that moment, about Oz…” She nodded. “He’s not human.” “What?” “You didn’t taste it? Humans taste like honeyed copper, satisfying but mild.” “I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever had Nox blood.” It was becoming easier to avoid saying “vamp.” Hell. Great sex and 48

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he was getting soft—Deacon glanced down at his finally calm cock—literally. “I’ve never had Nox blood.” Now she looked uncomfortable. “But I know we don’t normally mix blood and sex.” “Maybe you don’t, honey, but there are plenty of vamps out there who do. Offing humans seems to get them off as much as the blood does.” She froze and he wanted to smack himself. Talk about killing the mood. “First of all, Deacon Cain, you aren’t exactly human, and you sure as hell aren’t fully vamp,” she mocked, crossing her arms over that luscious chest. “You work for evil incarnate, so don’t tell me about the big bad vamps of the world.” “Evil incarnate?” Oddly enough, he wasn’t at all offended by her description of Perimore Corp. To his way of thinking, the only thing the company had going for it was the Nox Squad and a handful of scientists who actually wanted to help humanity without a huge profit involved. “Please. Don’t act like you don’t know, or even that you care. Perimore hurts people, and not just us lowly ‘vamps.’” Her gaze frosted over, yet Deacon found her even more alluring. “I know Perimore’s not right. Hell, the only reason Oz and I joined the company was to better serve and protect the community.” He snorted. “With Wade working the P.D. and Genaro muddying the truth all over the corporation, someone’s gotta play it straight.” His gaze narrowed. “So give me something I can use to hurt Perimore. Help me fix what’s 49

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so damned wrong with the company. Because my boss is shutting doors on me everywhere I turn.” She stared back at him, her gorgeous frame giving him other ideas. Her eyes widened as she noted his growing arousal. “You might want to hurry it up before I forget myself and take you again. And again. And again.” When she didn’t smile, he sighed. “Look, Hope. If I was as bad as you’re saying I am, I could have killed you tonight or taken you back to Perimore. I’m on your side.” Considering his options, he played a card he’d been keeping close to his chest. “Ask Cherry Tysk if you don’t believe me.” Her mouth opened in surprise. “How do you know Cherry?” “She’s a good friend of mine.” And a leading source of information that helped enormously against the venom peddlers on the streets. Not to mention she was the Nox who kept him supplied in blood and sex whenever the mood hit. “She might have mentioned me. I’m the guy she laughingly calls Abel. You know, as in Cain and Abel?” “You’re Abel?” Hope stared at him for several seconds before turning her gaze to his dick. Then she started laughing. “You’re more than able, aren’t you? Man, she really wasn’t kidding about you.” He grinned and joined in her mirth. “So you can trust me. At least a little.” “I guess I can at that.” Hope chewed her lower lip, starting when he rubbed his thumb against her bruised flesh, kissing it 50

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better. “You’re lethal, you know that?” As if she could talk. Deacon grinned and kissed her again. Amazingly, he felt as if he’d known Hope forever, when by rights he knew very damn little about her. So why the hell was he trusting her? “Okay, Abel. You asked for it.” Hope sighed. “Perimore has more than a few bad apples. The whole barrel’s corrupted. They’re the ones pushing what you guys call vamp venom throughout the city. All those rogue Nox that have been arrested? The only thing rogue about them is that they refuse to concede to Perimore’s demands. So the corporation abducts and keeps them against their will, using them to produce the Tilanus pheromone, the one that enthralls humans. Your corporation is not only milking vamps, it’s synthesizing and mass producing the drugs to fund the company.” “Holy shit.” “And I have proof.”

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CHAPTER 4 As Hope sat in Deacon’s kitchen facing him and Oz, she still didn’t know quite what to think. She’d had sex with not one, but two of the Nox Squad, whom she’d always considered the enemy. And not only that, but she’d drunk blood while having sex, and it had given her a euphoric high like nothing else in this world. Even now she couldn’t look at Deacon without wanting him. God, the man got to her on so many levels it was unfathomable to think she’d only just met him—and had sex with him—a few hours ago. Staring at his sexy face, at those light green eyes narrowed on his friend, at the thick brown hair framing a masculine face with a square jaw and strong, 52

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full lips, she could easily understand what Cherry saw in him. Trying in vain to ignore the wave of jealousy nearly crushing her, Hope reminded herself that she and Deacon had only just met and that she didn’t have a claim on the man. Just because he was the sex-god that Cherry gushed about every time they talked didn’t mean Cherry had a claim on him either. Hope’s fangs lengthened in her agitation, and she ruthlessly suppressed the instinct to find Cherry and gut her. Damn it all, but the thought of Deacon with another woman actually hurt, and how nonsensical was that? His interaction with Oz had been sexy and strangely nonthreatening. Yet Cherry was a good friend, a loyal Nox, and a leader in the Underground. A woman Hope should have felt happy to share Deacon with…if she were like normal Nox Liberi. Not wanting to roll down that road again, Hope tried to focus on what was important in the here and now. If Cherry said Deacon was okay—or more than okay, as the case may be—then who was Hope to question his loyalty? “So did you call Cherry yet?” he asked. “I did, and she verified your identity.” The little tramp. Flushing at the disingenuous thoughts of her friend that just popped into her mind, Hope cleared her throat—and her thoughts—and smiled at Oz. “How are you feeling?” Oz showed not the slightest embarrassment for anything they’d done, whereas Deacon refused to look his best friend in the face. Interesting dynamic there. “Like I’ve just come back from heaven. You two pack a 53

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helluva wallop, honey. No wonder so many addicts sell their souls for vamp venom. It’s phenomenal.” She stared at Oz, curious about the large man who was so unlike any human she’d encountered before. “Never tried it before?” He shook his head. “Why? Because you’re like Deacon? Or because you know you’re mostly immune to it?” Oz shot her a startled glance. “What?” “You don’t taste human, Oz. And since Deacon seems to be clueless about what a human does or doesn’t taste like, I’ll let you in on a secret. Humans taste a little like honey. Thick and sweet and almost addicting after a while. But you…you tasted like fine chocolate. And you didn’t fall prey to my pheromones or Deacon’s bite right away. It took two of us to sate you, and I’ve never seen that before.” Oz looked uncomfortable, and Deacon finally gazed at him. “You did mention secrets earlier.” “I’m bi.” “Gee, I’m surprised.” Deacon sneered. “Well, you didn’t object to getting me off. And that bite was more than to feed a physical hunger, buddy. That was pure sex with teeth.” “Actually,” Hope interjected, not wanting to intrude but needing to correct a misconception so many of them had about the Nox. “The saliva we Nox secrete is all about the physical hunger. Without it it’s much more difficult to, ah, acquire the blood we need.” “You’re trying to tell me Deacon wasn’t into me? That he 54

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bit me just for a quick fix?” “Not at all.” Hope tried not to smirk, amused at Deacon’s obvious discomfort with the discussion. She could see Oz’s laughter in his warm gaze. “From what I could tell, Deacon was way into you.” “Hope.” Deacon glared at her, then glanced upward as if seeking patience in the ceiling. “Could we please move on to more important matters?” “Come on, Deac. You had a hard-on the size of Montana while you were feeding off me. And though your Nox babe started it, if I’d have made a move, I could have finished it.” Deacon narrowed his gaze. “As if you were in charge. Look, Oz, you—” “It doesn’t change anything for me,” Oz said simply, and Hope found herself liking him all the more for it. “You’re my best friend and you always will be. You turned me on, I did the same to you, and we’re past it. Unless you want to, you know…” He glanced meaningfully toward the bedroom, and Hope coughed to stifle more laughter. “Hell no,” Deacon muttered, though Hope didn’t think he sounded as sure as he meant to. Oz chuckled, stirring Deacon’s irritation. “Fuck you. And no, not literally. You’re still my best friend, but you keep that monster dick of yours in your pants.” He must have noticed the interested look Hope gave Oz because he added in a snarl, “And away from Hope.” Oz raised a brow. “No problem, bro. You and the little woman can make all the sex you want to…once we take Perimore apart.” 55

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Hope shook her head, aware no one seemed to be asking her what she thought of being Deacon or Oz’s plaything. “Hello? Standing right here.” Deacon ignored her. “Long as that’s straight. She’s mine.” “Unless she wants to share.” Hope glared at him with her hands on her hips. “Oz is awfully big and good with his equipment. And let’s not forget how handsome he—” Deacon muffled her with a hard, punishing kiss that had her instantly wet. “Down boy,” Oz said with a chuckle. “You’re getting me all hot and bothered again, and we both know how much you don’t want to fuck me.” Deacon pulled away from Hope and glared at the both of them. “You,” he said to Hope, “are mine. So get that through your pretty little Night Children brain. And you,” he said, turning to Oz. “Will turn off whatever the hell vibes you’re putting out, Mr. Not-So-Human-With-Secrets.” Oz had the grace to appear uncomfortable. “About that… It’s not really something I can explain, it’s—” “You’re right.” Hope took a step closer to Oz and sniffed. “Oh, wow. I hadn’t noticed before because you distracted me.” She ignored Deacon’s smug male satisfaction. “But, Oz, you even smell like chocolate. Fuzzy and warm and melting.” She licked her lips but stopped when Deacon growled. The sound of a male claiming his mate penetrated, and she stared at him in shock as she realized why his possessiveness didn’t bother her as much as it should. “What are you looking at?” he rumbled, and she realized 56

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he had no idea what he was doing. “Deacon, what are you?” He sighed and explained what he’d apparently confessed to Oz the other day. To her surprise, what he said made sense. “I used to work for Perimore many years ago.” She continued past their shock. “I was a part of management before I learned the truth about what goes on there. The vamp drugs are just a part of the evil infesting that company. Over thirty years ago they used Nox blood to create new strains of the virus that makes Nox Liberi what we are. And if you two weren’t tagged at birth, it sounds like you, Deacon, and maybe Oz, too, have a different Nox strain inside you. Because I’ve never heard of a Nox that could withstand sunlight and silver, or that only needs to feed once a month.” Deacon studied her, slowly nodding. “Makes sense as much as any of the other half-baked theories I’ve had. My mom must have had the strain inside her, which explained why she wasn’t a true Nox. And she passed it down to me.” He frowned. “We have to take Perimore apart. Who knows how many innocent people they’ve played with?” “But it’s not that simple.” Hope sighed, wishing it were. “For all the bad things Perimore has done, they employ a large percentage of Marksdale’s population, as well as those in the surrounding cities. They also fund two hospitals and have actually found cures for several Nox and human ailments. “It’s not that I don’t want to destroy the company, it’s just that after all the work the Underground has done studying such a plan, we’ve found that the repercussions in doing so 57

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would be worse than leaving Perimore alone.” “We can’t just do nothing.” Oz shook his head. “But we can fix some of the internal problems we know about. We were hired to fix the drug problems in the city. What say we start doing that very thing from the inside out?” Deacon looked from Oz to Hope, waiting. “I’m all for it.” She agreed without hesitation. “We need to free those Nox we, the Underground, haven’t been able to get to. And with the notes Magellan gave me before he died, I think I might have a way. But I need access to the corporation’s basement levels.” “Hell no. You’re not going anywhere near the building.” Deacon violently disagreed. “I work on the squad that puts Nox away. You don’t want to be anywhere near the enemy. One look at you and they’ll bury you in there.” “Especially with your pheromones,” Oz agreed. “Imagine the drugs they could make off of Hope.” Oz shuddered with pleasure. “Just tell us where to go and we’ll do it.” “I can’t. I promised Magellan I would see this through. With the papers I have, I can get you that evidence to prove Perimore’s at the heart of the drug trade. But I can only access that data from inside the corporation’s mainframes. And if we’re going to do this right, then we need to free those Nox imprisoned in Perimore. Just how agreeable do you think they’ll be to go with you if they recognize you guys as the ones who put them away in the first place?” She read the guilt on Deacon’s face and felt her heart softening even more, which unnerved her into stepping back 58

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and away from him. He misread her apprehension, however. “Hope, we didn’t know. We thought we were policing the streets from the bad guys putting the drugs out there. We had no idea the corporation was behind it all.” She nodded, convinced of his innocence but still unsure about these intense and puzzling feelings for a man she’d just met. “Look, it’s going to be light in a few hours. I’ll go back to my place, get the info Magellan gave me and meet you back here tomorrow at sunset.” Deacon stared at her, and she wished she could read his mind, a talent many of the trade rags claimed the Nox had mastered. If only. “Good idea. Your weapons are in the bedroom.” Hope left to get them and Deacon turned to Oz. “You and I need to have a talk.” Oz sighed. “Go ahead.” “I’m going with Hope back to her place. I don’t trust her not to ditch us, not yet. She thinks she can trust us because she can, but I’m not sure she won’t change her mind once she leaves.” “Good call.” Oz kicked back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “What else?” “I…” Deacon didn’t know how to put it. “I’m not sorry about what happened earlier.” At the spark in Oz’s eyes, he hurriedly added, “I’m not saying I want to do it again anytime soon, but I’m honest enough to admit it was a turn-on… for a one-time deal. But the reason I don’t want a repeat isn’t 59

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because I’m anti-gay or anything.” Damn, Deacon felt like he was making a muck of it. He wanted to be honest, and he sure as hell didn’t want his relationship with Oz to suffer because of what they’d shared. “That’s good to know, unless you’ve been hiding anti-gay sentiment along with your Nox habits.” Oz’s lips quirked. “But I hate to break it to you. I’m not gay.” “Bisexual, horny, hetero, whatever. You know what I’m saying, you asshole.” “Easy, boy, or I might just have to jump you where you’re standing. That aggression’s always turned me on. Think Hope would like to watch?” “I sure would,” floated through the hallway. “Funny,” Deacon muttered and stood over his chair, relieved that humor once again danced in Oz’s eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that it was just weird, is all. I admit I was aroused. But I’m not into men, and I think of you as my best friend, my brother for God’s sake.” “Relax, Deac. Don’t be throwing incest into the mix. You and Hope said I seem to emit some kind of pheromone of my own. I’ve had plenty of guys come on to me throughout my life. I just never made a big deal of it in front of you.” “Why not? I’m not homophobic.” Deacon frowned. He wasn’t, was he? “I know. But you’re uncomfortable with it, so I didn’t push. But now that I know how hot you are, I’ll have to reconsider tempting you into bed at some point.” Oz shrugged. “Like scratching an itch.” 60

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Deacon frowned, realizing Oz was making fun of him. “Keep it up.” “I intend to.” Oz laughed. “Enough with the sexual innuendo.” Much as Oz was aggravating the hell out of him, memories of Oz’s taste and scent turned him on. He struggled against the urge to rearrange his rising cock under his jeans and focused instead on a sobering topic. “We need to get serious. I’m taking Hope to her place. We’ll get the damning documents and be back here by seven tomorrow night. See if you can’t get Ghost, Sawyer and Curtis to come back with you. Fill them in. Unless you have a problem with one of them?” It was too bad Flynn was inaccessible. They could have used his strategic genius. Oz shook his head. “Those three are solid. I’d bet my life on it.” “Good. Then be ready to plan tomorrow night.” Oz nodded. “I will. And Deac?” “Yeah?” “When you’re balling Hope later, try not to think of me, okay? Might hurt her feelings.” That was it. Deacon lunged at Oz, managing a few blows to his gut before Oz erupted into laughter and returned a few punches of his own. *

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“I don’t need you to come with me,” Hope said for third time, clenching her teeth. It was nearly five in the morning and she wanted to get home. More, she needed to get home, away 61

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from Deacon and Oz and this mess, away to where she could think. “But I need to be with you.” Deacon tried to charm her but it wasn’t working. And if he eyed her neck one more time, as if he thought biting her and mesmerizing her was the answer, she’d knock him on his sexy ass. He huffed and crossed his arms over his muscular chest, still blocking the front door. “Sorry, baby. But I don’t trust you not to disappear. And we need that information against Perimore. Right now, you’re the best hope we have for taking them down.” She couldn’t help the nod of hurt, that he didn’t want to come with her because he wanted to be with her, but because he needed Magellan’s papers. A stupid sentiment she shouldn’t be feeling. “And Hope… I want you alone, where I can better get to know you.” Deacon’s heated gaze trailed over her dark clothing now fitted, once more, with her weapons. “We need some time alone, don’t you think?” “No.” Her hormones were doing jumping jacks, begging her to move closer to him. She deliberately stepped back. “What are you afraid of, Hope? What’s the big deal about taking me home?” His gaze narrowed. “Is there someone waiting for you? Some stud hanging around, waiting for a quick fuck?” She could feel his rage and, damn it, his jealousy, unfounded though it was, had her heart racing with desire. “First of all, it wouldn’t be a quick fuck. I’m all about performance.” She looked down her nose at him, wishing the 62

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arrogant jerk wasn’t so good in bed. The fact that he was both aroused and annoyed her. “But there’s no man at home. I just don’t know that I like you knowing where I live.” “Why not?” Now he looked baffled. “Because I don’t like what you’re doing to me.” She hated to admit it, but for some reason found herself wanting to be honest with him, at least this much. Oz poked his head out from his bedroom, saw them arguing and locked himself back in his room. Lucky guy. “Well I’m not sure I like you twisting me inside-out either, but it is what it is.” Deacon grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out the door. Hope gave a half-hearted struggle, just on sheer principle, but her heart wasn’t in it. So she was twisting him inside-out? Funny, but she liked the sound of that. It put them on equal footing, and it showed her that he saw her as more than an easy lay. She blushed, still not quite sure how she’d become so darned easy. Like most Nox, she had her needs. Though not a prude, it took Hope a while to warm up to a companion. But the sex had never been so necessary. Her fondling bouts with Thor had surprisingly left her satisfied, if not sexually, then emotionally with their shared intimacy. But with Deacon, she needed it all. The disgust she’d assumed she’d feel when feeding from him while having sex didn’t exist. Instead, it seemed natural to take what he willingly gave. And the fact that not only could he sustain her, but that he was actually stronger than she was, made him even more appealing. 63

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“Honey, you keep it up and I’ll fuck you on the street here and now,” Deacon growled, forcing her to concentrate on holding in her desire, something she’d never before had to do. They reached his car in silence and drove for several miles before Deacon again spoke. “So what do you do? What’s it like living as a Nox under the radar?” A good question, and one she didn’t particularly want to answer. It brought up memories she didn’t like revisiting. “I worked for Perimore, like I told you. And they knew I was Nox. But I worked on secret projects. As a result, my status was kept quiet, mostly to keep the government off our backs. I worked night shifts, of course, but many humans in the city do without suspicion. “When I found out what Perimore was really doing with their specimens and ‘research,’ I tried to contact the feds since the state is so corrupt. But Perimore put a stop to it. They killed me.” He whipped his head to hers. “Come again?” “They thought they killed me. I managed to escape a large fire that destroyed millions in equipment and research. I lost my identity long ago.” “How long ago?” “Thirty years, back when Perimore was still just a baby monster,” she said dryly. “I’m now Hope Bradley, an average telecommuter who owns a web-based logistics firm. Only a few in the Underground know who I really am, and hardly anyone sees me unless I want them to. I rarely have to leave my apartment.” 64

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“Even for blood?” He turned down her street, and she sighed. “I had a friend, a willing donor,” she amended before he tried to accuse her of taking advantage of an innocent human. “But we’re no longer together.” Deacon frowned. “Why?” Because you invaded my mind and my life. I can’t get enough of you, and if you think I’ll admit you have that kind of power over me, think again. She cleared her throat. “Doesn’t matter. My point is that no one is waiting for me at home. Not even a cat.” He parked the car in the underground garage she directed him to and turned off the engine. They sat in silence for a moment. “So what’s your real name?” “Hope Bradley.” He shook his head. “What was it before?” She considered him and the strange things he made her feel. What the hell? He knew enough about her to dig up her real name if he wanted to. What would be the harm in telling him? “Angel Redding.” “Angel. Suits you.” She couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, right.” “That night you blew me a kiss after going after my throat, I thought you were an angel. A dark one, I’ll grant you, but an angel nonetheless.” They left the car and took the stairs four flights to her apartment. She couldn’t stand the elevator. Being trapped 65

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inside a small box was well and good for movie vampires, but she’d never been fond of small spaces. “Just for the record,” she said over her shoulder as she keyed in the code to unlock her front door. “I didn’t try to kill you. I was saving your ass from the Perimore goons trying to nail you.” She entered with him close on her heels. He froze once inside her apartment, and she thought he was processing what she’d told him. Then he closed the door behind them, automatically locking them together. “So Perimore was going to kill me? That certainly ups the ante.” “Oh?” Deacon closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. “Seems I owe you my life. And I always pay my debts.” He lowered his mouth to hers and Hope was lost, a slave to his passion…and her heart.

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CHAPTER 5 Deacon kissed her and felt like he was drowning. He couldn’t breathe without her scent, couldn’t function without her skin under his palms. She tasted so damned good, and her appeal had more to do with the woman under the assertive exterior than her alluring blood. Knowing why she fought the company put her in a place Deacon could easily understand. Hope was a fighter, and he found her need for justice as appealing as her looks and taste. No doubt, Hope got him hard just by looking at her. What man wouldn’t want a woman with curves, full, ripe lips, and a passion to set the ice caps to melting? She groaned under his mouth, and he eagerly deepened the 67

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kiss. His fangs pushed past his gums, and a feel with his tongue told him hers did the same. Excitement pulsed through him, waves of pleasure in dealing with a woman so dangerously enticing. His next inhale nearly made his knees buckle. There it was again. That scent that made him lose his mind. Without thinking, he began shredding her clothing, ripping buttons and cloth haphazardly, anything to bare that cool flesh to his gaze. Seeming as lost in lust as he was, Hope tore at his shirt as well, her nails raking over his chest and leaving a pleasured pain trail in her wake. “Fuck me,” she whispered, her mouth sliding down his mouth to his throat. She sucked hard, her teeth pressing but not breaking skin, and Deacon groaned, his need growing exponentially. “Not yet. No.” He struggled to regain control. He had intended to make her mindless with desire, yet again the woman turned the tables on him. Frustrated that he needed to come as badly as he needed to please her, Deacon gripped her hair and kissed her, meshing their mouths with a ferocity that drew blood. The taste of her pushed his fangs completely out, and he had to call on his reserves to find control. “No,” he said again and yanked her head away by her hair. Her eyes flashed and he grinned, a cruel twist to his mouth that echoed in the angry throbbing in his cock. “You’ll do what I say when I say. Now get on your knees, angel. And don’t forget who you belong to. Me. You’re mine, baby. All 68

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mine.” Mine. It fit, and her reaction thrilled him to the quick. Her scent grew stronger as she fought his hold, yet even as she struggled, she quickly moved to her knees. “Take me out and swallow me,” he uttered, his voice thick and garbled under the press of his elongated fangs. Hope snarled but gave care as she freed him from his trousers. His shirt was in tatters and he shrugged out of it. Glancing down, he saw her breasts peaking through the shreds of her own shirt and he frowned. “Strip. I want you naked while you pleasure me. I want to see your tits, and your pussy dripping while you suck my cock.” Hope said nothing, but her eyes sparkled with red glints of arousal and anger. Though she clearly wasn’t used to acting the submissive, her willingness to succumb to the stronger partner pleased him to no end. “That’s it, baby. I’m hard for you, angel. Hard and aching.” She licked her lips, her gaze drawn again to his erection. Quickly losing her clothing, she resumed her place at his feet… and then engulfed him in one hot, deep swallow. “Christ.” Deacon rocked back on his heels, but Hope grabbed his ass, clenching him tight as she deep throated him. And when she added those sexy moans, the soft scrape of her teeth under the head of his shaft, and rubbed his balls with her small, strong hands, Deacon couldn’t help thrusting harder and faster into her mouth. 69

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“You little tease,” he rasped, clenching her silky hair with a tight grip. “You’re doing your damnedest to make me come, aren’t you?” He stroked her cheeks, marveling at the creamy tone and satin texture of her flesh. “That’s it. Taste my need, angel. Feel me growing harder as I ready to come down your throat. God, you have no idea what it does to me to watch your lips hug my cock.” She cupped his balls again and ran a finger between his ass cheeks. The sensation made him shudder. “You little witch. You want to make me lose it, don’t you? Want to take the control back into your hands,” he gasped when she suddenly shoved a finger into his ass. The pain of the intrusion shocked him, and had him coming like a waterfall. He groaned her name as he shot with an intensity that made him lightheaded. And all the while Hope swallowed him until he was bone dry, then gently released him from her mouth. “Hmm. You taste good,” she murmured, and it took him a minute to realize she hadn’t bitten him. Yet his orgasm had been just as powerful as the one he’d had when she’d sunk those teeth inside him. “You were a very bad girl.” He tried to focus, instinctively knowing he had to take charge of this particular Nox. Deacon took a deep breath and slowly removed the rest of his clothes, his eyes glued to Hope’s as she knelt at his feet, her gaze both satisfied and curious as she watched him. “What are you going to do to me?” She grinned, and the sight of her wicked smile pushed him headlong into an 70

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impossible, irrational love. “I’m keeping you. Isn’t that enough of a punishment?” he asked wryly, pleased with her husky chuckle. “But for the immediate future, I think we need to correct a small problem.” “Not so small,” she murmured as she stroked his shaft, which impossibly rose again at her touch. As if he hadn’t just given her everything, his dick had a mind of its own. But Deacon had a point to make. “No, no.” He pushed her hand away and pulled her none-too-gently to her feet. “I think there’s been a little misunderstanding here.” Her nipples puckered, and he could smell her burning arousal, which only made him hard again. Deacon dragged her past an open living and dining area toward a hallway, looking for her bedroom. He found it at the end of the hall and tossed her bodily onto the four-poster bed just begging for some restraints. Before she could move, he blanketed her and sank his fangs into her neck. She cried out and arched into him, and he pulled the first orgasm out of her with a whispered command. “I want you aware while I’m in charge. Don’t move.” He rose, his gaze caught by her effortless sensuality. “Deacon,” she rasped, following him with her gaze. “Let me up.” He gave her his best sinister grin, pleased when she sobered and frowned at him. “I just want to clear this up.” He rummaged through her drawers and found what he was looking for. “Silk ropes?” He held out the ties, surprised she had them. He’d been hoping for some pantyhose or a scarf. 71

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Apparently, his Nox had a thing for bondage. “That wasn’t for me.” “It is now.” Reminding him of her past lovers wasn’t smart, as she seemed to realize. Deacon quickly tied her up, the ropes long enough to reach the posts while still giving some play should he want to turn her over and claim that ass. She reached out to him, and he shoved her back down, his palm centered on her chest. “Dammit. Don’t do that.” Hope frowned, not submitting as easily as she had before. “Angel, I’ll do whatever I damn well please.” He kissed his way from her mouth to her neck, not biting, even though she begged him to with her telltale scent of arousal. “You want me to bite you, don’t you? You want to come with my teeth in your throat and my cock buried in your pussy.” She creamed; he could smell it. Not wanting to wait, he left her neck and centered himself between her legs. Her breathing stopped, and she shivered when he closed his mouth around her tight nub. Lapping at the growing moisture, he smiled when he heard her ask him ever so nicely to make love to her. “Not love, angel. Not yet. This is about discipline.” Her eyes narrowed, and he continued. “About obeying.” “I don’t think so.” “Oh?” He sucked hard on her clit and shoved a finger inside her. Hope bucked on the bed and cursed, then began riding his hand as he thrust his fingers in time to her rocking hips. He could feel her nearing the end and stopped. 72

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“What are you doing?” She squirmed. “Don’t stop, not now.” “I’ll stop whenever I want to.” What he wanted was to fuck her again, to empty his aching balls of every drop of cum. Filling her up seemed an imperative, and Deacon found himself fighting his own instincts as well as her disobedience. Deacon licked her again, and she moaned, then cried out when he stopped. “What do you want me to say?” she grumbled, seeking his touch that remained just out of reach. Her fists clenched at the ties holding her wrists, ties corded perfectly to withstand the force she spent trying to get free. “I want you to submit to me, Hope. To acknowledge my place.” By her side, protecting her, always. He refused to compel her, needing her to want him as much as he wanted— and more, needed—her. “Your place is inside me,” she huffed, looking dismayed when he refused to return to making love. “Whatever you want is okay with me. Now fuck me.” His dick spiked, hearing such coarseness from that soft, beautiful mouth. “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready. You belong to me, Hope. Say it.” She tilted her head to stare into his eyes, yet she didn’t immediately respond. Deacon growled low in his throat, the need to have her under his control a living thing. “I won’t force you to say it. I want you to say it.” He bit the inside of her thigh hard, then smeared a drop of her blood over her clit and sucked it clean. 73

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Hope writhed and begged, but he wouldn’t finish until she gave him what he craved. “I…” She stopped. “What do you really want from me?” To his surprise, he saw a trace of vulnerability in her eyes that had returned to a shimmery, midnight blue. “Everything,” he whispered. “Whatever you have to give and more.” She stared at him, and he swore he could feel her gaze touching that deepest part of him he kept hidden from the world. “You want to mate with me,” she said bluntly. Mate. The Nox equivalent of marriage that went far beyond a piece of paper. The driving sexual needs between compatible Nox often produced strong, healthy children. And the physical ties only compounded the emotional bond between parties. Some even said that mated Nox could feel each other’s emotions, sense each other’s thoughts. And the mating was always permanent. No divorce, and ’til death do us part. He felt the word around in his mind, understood what he was feeling to be true, and nodded. “Mate, marry, keep. You’re already mine, as crazy as that sounds.” He licked her and sighed at the perfection of her taste. “I just want to hear you say it.” Hope groaned and arched her head back. “Dammit, Deacon. We’ve known each other a matter of days. But, hell, nothing else in my life seems to make much sense. I’m yours. Satisfied?” 74

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“Not yet. Not until I have every bit of you under me.” Deacon removed the ties holding her ankles and flipped her onto her belly, propping her up on her hands and knees. The ties holding her wrists crossed, just long enough to enable the new position. Pushing her legs farther apart and tilting her pelvis for better access, Deacon closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet essence of Hope. She drew in a sharp breath and cried out when he buried his face in her pussy and licked long and hard. Drawing back, he greased his fingers with her juices and lubed up her ass nice and wet, his fingers dancing near but not inside her anus. He circled the small hole several times before he pushed forward. The tip of his finger fit tightly in the narrow opening, and her gasp attested to the fact that he was probably right about her being a virgin there. “Now I’m going to take this prime ass. The ass that’s mine, and so tight I’d be surprised if you’ve ever had anything up it before.” “No,” Hope panted. “Never done that.” “But you will.” “But I will. Only with you,” she added to his intense pleasure. Kneeling behind her, Deacon pushed gently, guiding her with soft commands and easy movements until he was fully seated within her. The completeness, the utter oneness of their joining took his breath away. “You’re so thick and deep,” Hope whispered. “So much a part of me.” “And that’s the way it’s going to be from now on.” Deacon 75

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grunted as he slowly pulled out before shoving back into her. Hope moaned his name as he began fucking her, taking her past the pain into the bliss of belonging. He sought her ripe clit as he took her, playing her into another orgasm and yet another before he sank his teeth into her shoulder and came. *

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An hour, and another exhausting round of bed play later, they lay in one another’s arms. “You have a tendency to be a little bossy,” Hope murmured as she snuggled closer to him. “But you’re sexy as hell.” “Hmm,” he agreed, feeling at peace with Hope on his chest. “I can work with that. I guess we’d better get some rest before tonight. Oddly enough, I’m not as dead tired as I usually am at this time of day.” A bedside light softly illuminated Hope’s room. Metallic blinds completely sealed any light from the room, protecting her from the sun. The only reason Deacon even knew the time was from the blazing red numbers of her alarm clock. “Well, I’ve had no sleep going on twenty-four hours. So I think it’s time we got some shut-eye. And I hate to admit it, but you wore me out.” Hope laughed softly and kissed his chest, and Deacon knew true happiness. “Hope?” “Yeah?” 76

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“I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe.” “I know.” “I won’t let Perimore have you. Perimore or anyone else. You’re mine, angel. Don’t forget it.” She sighed. “You need to work on your delivery. You should have said how much you love and want me. That you’d be lost without me, and that the thought of never seeing me again makes you break out in big, ugly hives.” She smoothed her palm over his chest. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.” Deacon dragged her up for a kiss and tucked her head into his shoulder. “How about I’m crazy about you, and I’m going to seriously kick your ass if you do anything that gets you hurt?” “Good enough,” she mumbled into his skin and yawned. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I love you, too.” Warmth unfurled within him. “Good. Now shut up and get some sleep.” He grunted when she punched him in the gut and hugged her tightly, never wanting to let go. *

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Hope frowned as she and Deacon returned to his house at seven on the dot. She wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of being surrounded by the Nox Squad. For too many years the corporation had hunted her kind. And now, here she stood, waiting to be surrounded by elite prior military and law professionals who made capturing Nox look as challenging as a game of Go Fish. 77

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Except the men they’d come to find weren’t here. “Oz?” Deacon raised his voice but the house remained silent. He motioned her to stay put and disappeared down the hallway. Hope felt an itch along her spine and thought it prudent to leave. Deacon returned in a hurry echoing the sentiment. “Something’s not right. We need to go, right now.” They turned back to the open door and saw several black cars pull into the drive. Deacon slammed the door shut and led Hope toward the back door. Unfortunately, they met Oz and the others—Sawyer, Ghost and Curtis, she assumed—waiting in the back courtyard. All four men were bound and gagged, and glaring with rage at Perimore’s uniformed guards surrounding them. An older man, of average height and build, and dressed in a suit, stepped forward. His gaze, however, was anything but ordinary. He had the cold, flat black eyes of a shark. “Genaro,” Deacon spat. “Should have known.” “Yes, you should have. And you would have, if your focus wasn’t currently between your legs.” Genaro nodded to his men and several stepped forward. Deacon remained firmly between Hope and the others. “But then, that’s how we expected a Tilanus7 to react to a full-blooded Nox Liberi.” “What?” “I’ll explain it in detail later.” Genaro finally gave Hope his full attention, and she wanted to shiver under that cold stare. “Ah, yes. The one we’ve been looking for. Angel Redding.” Genaro smiled. “My predecessor spoke highly of you before he died. You do remember Doctor Julio Chavez, 78

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don’t you? Why, without your blood, most of our projects wouldn’t have made it off the ground.” Dread welled in Hope. “My blood?” “You didn’t think just any Nox strain would work on humans, did you? We went through thousands of samples before finding success with yours, and there aren’t as many Nox around as you’d think. Then again, you’re no scientist. How could you know that only a select group of people would react to a specific aspect of your blood? If only Chavez had been more circumspect.” Genaro shook his head. “He was duly punished for killing you. His punishment fit the crime, you could say. Then again, it didn’t, because you’re here, alive, aren’t you?” “What the hell are you talking about, Genaro?” Deacon looked ready to launch himself at his boss. “If it wasn’t for Angel, we wouldn’t have the Nox Squad.” “I don’t—” “My blood made you what you are,” Hope realized, her gaze horrified as it fell on Deacon. “It’s a variation of my blood that’s made you part Nox.” “Not just Deacon,” Genaro added graciously, waving his arm at Oz and the others. “But all the Nox Squad. We recruited the lot of you specifically.” He motioned to his men to close in. “And now we’ll finally get to that research we’ve been putting off for years.” Hope could only imagine that whatever Genaro had in store, she certainly wouldn’t like it. Deacon chose that moment to throw himself into the 79

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approaching guards. “Run, Hope.” She flew back into the house away from Perimore’s men, knowing that their best chance of escape might lie in Hope’s ability to find help, or at worst, a weapon. But a sharp crack to the back of her head took her down. And before she could shake the stupor clouding her thoughts, someone sprayed her with a chemical that turned the world black.

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CHAPTER 6 “One of you want to tell me just what the fuck is going on here?” Curtis growled. “God. I wonder how long we’ve been out.” The five of them had awakened after being gassed to stop their rebellion. They now occupied a vamp holding cell. Deacon had, on more than one occasion, escorted a rogue, or what they’d been told was a rogue, down here, but he knew little else about the layout of the subterranean levels. “Look, I told you guys about Perimore. You know as much as I do.” Oz gingerly cradled his jaw. “Assholes are going to pay for this,” he muttered about the guards, and a flash of something both feral and foreign sparked in his dark-eyed 81

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gaze. “I want to know what Genaro, that little piss-ant, was talking about. What’s Tilanus7?” Sawyer added in a low voice. “And I want to know how Deacon scored such a hot chick. That is totally not computing,” Ghost joked, though he looked as pained and drawn as the others. The guards had done a number on them, using unnecessary violence to secure them in this cell before knocking them out with a foul-smelling mist. As if they knew once the squad escaped there’d be hell to pay and wanted to get in as many licks as possible. Oz grinned and swore, groaning around his jaw. Curtis scowled even darker, his bloodied eye turning his face into a macabre mask of rage. Sawyer grunted, reverting into his tall, dark and silent mode. Deacon, however, had a hard time thinking about anything other than Hope and his last vision of her being hauled, unconscious, away from them. “Deac?” Oz prodded. “Now’s the time to fill us in.” He sighed with frustration and began pacing as he spoke. “Tilanus7 is a variant on the Tilanus pheromone, the one the corporation discovered nearly a hundred years ago.” “Right, that crap the Nox emit before they turn you uncomfortably hard.” Ghost nodded. Deacon continued. “Except the idiots scientists weren’t satisfied studying the damned stuff. Seems they wanted to make their own. And they succeeded.” He frowned, recalling what Genaro had told them. “According to our asshole boss, all of us have something to do with that variant. I, ah,” he 82

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paused, wondering how to come out and say it. Oz said it for him. “Our good buddy is part vampire. Yes, he walks in sunlight and has no problems with silver or garlic. But he drinks blood once a month and gets super strong. For all intents and purposes he’s human…until he needs to feed.” The others studied him, but not one of them looked particularly surprised. “You guys knew about this?” “No.” Curtis scowled. “But I’m beginning to see that we are one naïve bunch of fools.” Deacon stared as Curtis began changing before his eyes. Ghost and Oz cursed, but Deacon was tongue-tied as he saw his friend grow even taller than his impressive six-five frame. Coarse hair covered his forearms and neck, and his face began to morph into something from a Lon Chaney movie. “Werewolves? This cannot be real.” Oz, crazy man that he was, took a step closer to Curtis, who froze and sniffed curiously in his direction. In the blink of an eye, Curtis changed back and looked at Oz with new respect. “So that’s your deal. Nice to find out I’m not all alone with this.” “Huh?” Deacon stared from Curtis to Oz and suddenly understood. “You’re what he is, Oz. Werewolf.” “Yeah, right. I can’t shift—” Oz cocked his head and Deacon watched at his eyes changed into something decidedly beastly. “It comes in spurts, and then you just know,” Curtis offered. “I’ll help you out. Trust me, when you first change, it hurts like a son of a bitch. But now I’m used to it. And I can 83

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control it.” Deacon turned to Sawyer and Ghost. “What about you two?” Sawyer frowned, but Ghost spoke readily. “We’re all just one big, happy family, now, aren’t we? If only Flynn, Simon and Billy could see us now.” Flynn was on leave, Simon was incommunicado on a mission in Canada, and Billy… “Where is Billy?” Ghost shook his head and blinked, as if to gather his thoughts. “Oh yeah, that’s what I meant to tell you guys before we were sucker punched. Billy is the one who set us up. Turns out he’s been working for Genaro for years, reporting on every damned thing we do that the bugs and cameras monitoring us don’t show. They’ve been watching us twenty-four/seven at work and in our homes.” He frowned in disgust. “The fucker followed us to your place, Deac, and took the three of us down with some weird spray that smells like what they used in here. But it had to be less concentrated since we were only out minutes before they tagged Oz.” Deacon didn’t want to believe it, and the look he shared with Oz told him his friend felt the same. But Billy’s defection explained the odd feelings the squad had been putting off lately. “Are we sure he’s the only spy in the bunch?” he had to ask. The others frowned at the thought, but it had to be said. “So, Ghost, you never answered me. What’s your special power?” Deacon asked sarcastically. “I…” Ghost stopped and glanced around him. Closing his 84

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eyes, he did something that made the hair on the back of Deacon’s neck stand on end, and had the others rumbling their displeasure as well. “Sorry, had to short out the circuits on the cameras recording us. My particular talent has more to do with managing electricity than anything else. It’s easier if I just show you.” He held up his hands, and they watched as blue flickers sparked between his palms. “How the hell does that come from Tilanus7?” Oz wanted to know. “Enhanced senses and the hairy stuff,” he paused to motion to Curtis, “I get. But some kind of super computer hacker?” “I tangled with a bolt of lightning when I was little.” Ghost shrugged, and in his eyes Deacon saw a surprising burst of neon blue light. “When I woke up, I was like this.” “And the company knew.” Deacon clenched his fists. Those bastards. They knew about all of us. “Not everything. They’d never let me near a computer if they realized how easily I can manipulate not only electricity, but actual data streams as well. And I can do a lot more than I’ve ever let on.” “Then I bet you’ll be able to get the information we need.” Finally, a sense of something going their way. Deacon glanced around them. “They still can’t hear us?” Ghost shook his head. “Then I need you to…” He glanced at Sawyer. “Wait. Sawyer. What’s your deal?” If Deacon learned that Sawyer had been corrupted as well, he was afraid he’d seriously lose it. Though Sawyer seldom spoke, Deacon had always liked the 85

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big guy. He could be counted on in a fight and always stood up for his squad, no matter what. Billy was a disappointment, but his flaws—his excesses with booze, money and women— had always been apparent. Simon was a mystery, Flynn moreso. But Sawyer? “Come on, big man. Pony up,” Curtis snarled. Shooting him a dirty look, Sawyer sighed and opened his mouth. To his surprise, Deacon noted a nice set of sharp, white fangs. “So you’re more like me, eh?” he asked. Sawyer nodded. “I can control it.” “I never could, not unless the bloodlust was on me.” Yet Deacon wondered, remembering how he’d used his nails to shred Hope’s clothing. How he continued to feed from her though he’d been sated well over what he normally needed. “But I think I’m changing.” “It’s gotta be Hope,” Oz said. “Genaro said it was her blood they used to change us. So it makes sense that her blood’s mutating what’s already in you.” “Mutating. Thanks, Oz. You sure have a way with words.” The others managed a few chuckles, and the tension in the room subtly eased. “So now we know we’re all a bunch of freaks more like the Nox than not.” Ghost rubbed his chin in thought. “What do we do about this?” “First we bust out of here. Then we free Hope and the other Nox being held captive. While we’re doing that, Ghost will grab the files we need and send them to a Fed I trust.” 86

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Deacon’s mind raced a mile a minute, his every thought to find Hope alive and well, and fast. “Which Fed would that be? Because I don’t know of any who don’t owe either Perimore or our mayor something.” Oz asked. “Actually, it’s a guy Flynn mentioned once.” “If we can trust Flynn.” Much as Deacon hated to admit it, Oz had a point. “Okay. So we keep the info until we know where it’ll do the most good. I didn’t get a chance to fill you guys in before we were taken, but here’s what I know.” He recounted what he’d read in Magellan’s files. An hour later, they were ready. *

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Hope groaned as she lay on a table, her arms outstretched and fastened with silver bindings to what felt like a cool operating table. Shit, shit, shit. “Finally. She wakes.” Genaro’s voice. He slapped her and she blinked up into pure evil. “You know, Angel, finding you alive and well is a godsend. When Julio inadvertently killed you, or thought he’d killed you, he terminated the hope of ever continuing his research. The fire we thought you’d died in also destroyed every last sample of your pure blood. “The other Nox we’ve used to replicate our experiments over the years have given us much different, less applicable results on our test subjects. A few of our people can see in the dark, a dozen turned Nox but with none of the enthralling 87

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ability your kind has on humans. And we have one particular female who seems to be able to read minds, but her ability is on and off again with no rhyme or reason. And we can’t be sure she wasn’t already a touch psychic before we infected her with the strain. But you, Angel, gave us our current Nox Squad. Every member of the team carries your blood in their veins, unknowing recipients of blood donations at some point in their lives. We’ve monitored them, these few who survived, and look at what they’ve become.” The bastard actually sounded excited. “You don’t have a shred of humanity in there, do you?” she asked, trying to shift as far back as she could from the silver bands holding her tight. Her wrists burned, the contact of silver on her flesh blistering her skin. And yet… the pain was normally much worse when her skin was exposed to the precious metal. Her legs remained free, but feeling as weak and unstable as she was from that damned mist they’d sprayed in her face, using her feet wasn’t an option, at least not yet. Worry resurged as she realized Deacon was nowhere near. She saw nothing around her but Genaro, three of his security guards, and two men and a woman wearing white lab coats. “Humanity is overrated.” Genaro shrugged. “And honestly, I think the Nox are the next rung in evolution’s great ladder. We know that when the first meteor hit two thousand years ago, it turned the tiny village of Istanva into a ghost town populated by monsters. The myths that grew about vampires and werewolves in time faded. And then another meteor carrying the same type of alien virus struck several hundred 88

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years ago. And once the governor’s family turned, we could no longer ignore what some of our invaluable, unique ‘humans’ had become.” Had he said unique? Because Hope felt anything but. Life as a Nox had been difficult at best. “Dying” had actually been easier than living, because in death she had created a new life for herself. One in which others accepted her and treated her with respect, with none of the fear and derision often afforded the Nox Liberi. And now she had a man who loved her. A man she’d unknowingly turned into someone like her. But dammit all, she refused to take the blame for what he’d become. If anything, her blood in his system made them more than simply compatible; it allowed for them to be mates in the truest sense. And she wouldn’t let him go without a fight. “Where are the others?” If she let on how much Deacon meant to her, Genaro would no doubt use the knowledge to his advantage. “Your partners in crime, or your lovers in particular?” Genaro pursed his lips. “The Nox Squad is being contained in one of our many holding cells far from here. And take comfort that those we don’t yet have confined soon will be.” Genaro smiled, a chilling grin that set her heart racing, and not in a good way. “You might think of them as your children, eh, Angel? Of course, if you did, then the threesome you had with Williams and Cain might prove a problem. Quite the vamp slut, aren’t you? Though the possibilities of your progeny make for an exciting study.” 89

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That nailed it. She was getting out of here no matter what. Yanking again at her restraints, Hope surprised herself by breaking free. The silver had given her no more than a slight rash on her wrists. Dizzy, she nevertheless sat up and let the power in her blood overtake the weakness still pulsing within. Without knowing how, Hope pushed the bad blood to the surface of her skin. “What are you doing?” Genaro turned to his scientists with a raised voice. “Why is she free? And why is she sweating blood?” Genaro motioned to his men while waiting on an answer. “Strap her back down with steel if you have to. But be careful. We need her.” Bingo. Hope leapt from the table and disregarded the guns worn by the guards. Wary of the tasers, however, she broke one guard’s jaw while sending another spinning into his companion’s weapon. At that moment, an alarm sounded in the room and a scuffle sounded outside, the commotion drawing more attention from her. Hope dragged Genaro to her, forcing herself not to break his sorry, slimy neck. “I know you had Magellan killed. And for that alone you’re going to pay.” The door burst open and Hope turned, using Genaro as a shield. Bullets sprayed the office, hitting Genaro and her, as well as two of the scientists. “Stop it! I’m hit, you idiots,” Genaro screamed. Unfortunately, the bullet that struck Hope nicked her neck, and she began to bleed heavily. In her attempt to regain 90

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control over her shaking limbs, she let Genaro go. He pulled himself across the floor with a bullet in his shoulder and another staining his right trouser leg with blood. The scent called to her, but Hope fought the instinct to feed, not wanting to touch Genaro again if she could help it. Her vision fogged, and she realized she needed to focus. And then Deacon was shouting her name. Large, gentle hands pulled her to safety, and she let herself go, knowing Deacon would be there. *

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Deacon was frantic. Hope had lost a lot of blood and she wasn’t moving. As he raced through the basement with her in his arms, he followed the arrangement he and the others had made, praying they would all meet up later as planned. Sawyer and Oz were rescuing the captured Nox and leading them to freedom. Ghost was downloading everything he could before Genaro reset his safeguards. Apparently, Genaro had someone on the payroll as good with computers as Ghost with the ability to block Ghost’s hidden abilities. Curtis had helped Deacon through the masses of guards and was still protecting his back as Deacon flew to safety with Hope in his arms. He would have felt guilty at leaving his squad behind if all his focus wasn’t on Hope. “Don’t die on me, baby. Not when I’ve just found you,” he prayed. The maze seemed to last forever until Deacon found the corridor Ghost had roughly mapped for him. As promised, the 91

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steel door that should have been securely locked was cracked open, and Deacon stepped through it into a non-secured hallway. Grunting with worry, he flew down another corridor, this one familiar, and found his way outside… into bright yellow sunlight. Horror for Hope faded as he realized her skin remained pale but unmarked, save for the bruises those assholes had inflicted. Apparently, Deacon’s blood had “mutated” her as well. Thank God. Still moving swiftly, he found a car and broke into it. In minutes he had them racing back to her place and standing outside her door in the hallway. But how to get in? He needed her passcode. “Hope? Baby, wake up. We need to get you inside, now.” He shook her, but she refused to wake. An idea came to mind, and he used it. Without thought he lengthened one nail and punctured his throat. Then he pressed Hope’s mouth against his wound. For moments she did nothing, her body still limp, her mouth unmoving. And then she clamped onto his neck and sucked. Fire raced through his loins, and Deacon sighed with relief. Forcibly yanking her from him, he nipped her wrist and used his saliva to enthrall her. “Hope,” he murmured, wanting her more and more as the taste of her seeped in. “Open the door.” She punched in her code, and they entered into safety. Deacon made sure the door locked behind him before he dropped onto the couch and pressed her face into his neck again. As she drew in his blood, she began squirming in his lap, and unable to fight it, he came in his jeans with a sigh while feeding the woman he loved. “That’s it, angel. Take what you need. I’m yours.” 92

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CHAPTER 7 Four days later, what remained of the Nox Squad plus one—Hope—sat around a large picnic table under the warm, September sun. Hope held Deacon’s hand and sat in his lap, still not over nearly losing him. To their combined astonishment, Deacon healed within a day of all his injuries, as did Hope. She could now tolerate sunlight, and her silver burns didn’t linger as they once would have. She and Deacon had truly joined, in mind, heart and body…and ability. “So Genaro’s still missing.” Ghost sighed. He looked the worst for wear of all of them. His shaggy blond hair was constantly mussed, his blue eyes ringed with fatigue and the 93

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remnants of serious bruising. But his handsome face still sparked with vitality, in spite of the trauma they’d recently suffered. “I can’t find a trace of him. Perimore’s new digital security is off the charts. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think I’m blocking myself. Maybe I have a clone.” “God help us,” Curtis muttered. He and Oz had fully healed, as had Sawyer, who sat across from Hope. Curtis, she noticed, continued to give Oz curious looks, and she wondered if that pheromone she’d once identified in Oz but no longer smelled appealed to Curtis’s extraordinary senses. Maybe werewolves were more sensitive to each other than the Nox were to them. “So are you officially calling yourselves werewolves?” Deacon asked Oz and Curtis lazily, as if reading her mind, something he and she were doing much more lately. Curtis told him what to do with himself, but Oz only laughed. A little uncomfortably, he replied, “When Curtis and I come to an agreement, we’ll let you know. But I have to tell you, Hope. Your blood is some freaky, powerful stuff. I’m sensing a lot more now than I ever did.” She sighed. “Sorry.” “Don’t be.” Deacon gripped her hand tight. “Without your blood, we’d all be dead by now. It’s helped us deal with a lot of unfriendly Nox, truly rogue ‘vamps,’ and Perimore.” The others agreed, even Sawyer who rarely seemed to speak. “I have no problem with who I am,” Ghost said. “Because I can do a hell of a lot of good with it. I still haven’t found 94

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Simon, but Flynn’s on his way back from wherever he’s been. He won’t say, not until he sees us. But he knows to steer clear of the corporation.” Hope nodded. They were living together, the six of them, on a large, unassuming farmhouse in Indiana, on a spread one of the very thankful rescued Nox had lent them. For now, until they landed fully on their feet, it would do. And the bedroom she and Deacon shared certainly provided them the haven they’d needed to reassure each other of their love and good health. Just thinking about what they’d shared this morning made her long for more of the same. “Uh, Hope?” Curtis cleared his throat. “You might want to tone it down.” She glanced at the others and blushed. Even Sawyer was eyeing her like a particularly juicy steak. “Sorry.” “Damn, Deacon. Still doesn’t make any sense that you, of all people, get the girl.” Ghost huffed. “What’s wrong with Deacon?” she asked. “Nothing, I guess.” Ghost’s blue eyes sparkled. “But he’s not nearly as good-looking as the rest of us.” “Not to mention he’s a prude when it comes to sex,” Oz added. Curtis snorted with laughter, and Sawyer gifted them with a grin. Hope launched to Deacon’s defense, feeling more alive than ever, and curiously happy, despite what they’d recently suffered. Eventually Perimore would fall. Genaro, Billy and the rest of them were on the new and improved Nox Squad’s 95

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hit list. She and her fellow Night Children, she thought as she glanced at them around the table, would see that justice was served. With the man she loved by her side and the power to once again start fresh, Hope had new purpose to see her through the days to come. And God-willing, the blood she shared with Deacon would allow him to spend his golden years, in his late second or third century, alongside her. And a baby or two along the way wouldn’t hurt, especially if they always shared as much fun making them. Deacon rubbed his thumb over her palm and whispered in her ear. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” She sat on his lap and could feel his erection prodding her backside. “Oh, yeah.” “Then angel, let’s get to it.” He grinned and kissed the side of her neck. “Sorry guys. But we have some unfinished business to take care of.” Oz groaned. “Just keep your scent far away from me. I’ve had more hard-ons since meeting Hope than I know what to do with.” Again, Curtis gave Oz an inquisitive once-over, and Hope grinned, understanding now what the looks meant. “Don’t worry, Oz. I’m sure you’ll soon be getting yours.” Curtis simply blinked at her before turning the discussion to Flynn and Simon and what the future would hold. “I don’t know about the others,” Deacon murmured as they strolled hand-in-hand into the house. “But I know as long as I’m with you, everything will fall into place.” He grinned, 96

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exposing the fangs he could now control at will. “One bite at a time.” Hope smiled. “One bite at a time.” And kissed him.

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M ARIE HARTE

Marie Harte is an avid reader who loves all things paranormal and futuristic. Reading romances since she was twelve, she fell in love with the warmth of first passion and knew writing was her calling. Twenty-two years later, the Marine Corps, a foray through Information Technology, a husband and four kids, and her dream has finally come true. Marie lives in Georgia with her family and loves hearing from readers. For more information about Marie, you can visit her website: http://www.marieharte.com *

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Don’t miss Firebreather, by Marie Harte, available at AmberHeat.com!

Ferin Dekker is wealthy, powerful, and the secret ruler of the mysterious Dracon clan. Lea Venlay is the daughter of his people’s enemy, yet she intrigues him to no end. Determined to find out what it is about Lea that captivates him, Ferin spirits her away into the mountains, seeking answers. Lea can’t believe she's been kidnapped by a man

she’s been unable to stop thinking about. But Ferin is Dracon, and if he knew about the books and research she’s done regarding his secretive clan, he’d be more apt to crush her than kiss her. And then there’s her disagreeable family to contend with. But Ferin surprises Lea by not seeming to care about her secrets. He, in fact, offers to help her learn more about his kind. And despite her vast knowledge of the Dracon, she’s stunned to find their mating practices not at all tame…or monogamous. Can Lea take a chance on loving a Dracon, or is their future nothing more than the fading flames of a Firebreather’s passion?

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