Compelled: A Cyn And Raphael Novella m6840

Compelled

Look what people are saying about D.B. Reynolds’s latest VAMPIRES IN AMERICA. . . .

“This series is at the top of my list for fabulous Paranormal Romance with plenty of action, thrills, and hot sexy Vampires. No sparkles here, but plenty of charisma.” —La Deetda Reads

“I am loving the direction that Reynolds is taking with the series, and it’s absolutely one of my favorites and one that I highly recommend to vampire romance lovers.” —The BookChick Blog

“Captivating and brimming with brilliance, Christian is yet another defining addition to the ever-evolving world of Vampires in America created by D.B. Reynolds.” —K T Book Reviews on CHRISTIAN

“Did I mention that the sizzling sex factor in this book is reaching the combustible stage? It is a wonder my Kindle didn’t burn up.” —La Deetda Reads on DECEPTION

“It’s the brilliance of her characters and the staying power of the world she has created that always keeps me coming back for more.” —KT Book Reviews on DECEPTION

Also by D.B. Reynolds from ImaJinn Books

Vampires in America

RAPHAEL

JABRIL

RAJMUND

SOPHIA

DUNCAN

LUCAS

ADEN

VINCENT

Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars

DECEPTION

CHRISTIAN

The Cyn and Raphael Novellas

BETRAYED

HUNTED

UNFORGIVEN

COMPELLED

Compelled

A Cyn & Raphael Novella

by

D.B. Reynolds

ImaJinn Books

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

ImaJinn Books PO BOX 300921 Memphis, TN 38130 Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-721-2

ImaJinn Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

Copyright © 2016 by D.B. Reynolds

Published in the United States of America.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief ages in a review.

ImaJinn Books was founded by Linda Kichline.

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Cover design: Debra Dixon Interior design: Hank Smith Photo/Art credits: Cemetery (manipulated) © Melkor3d | Dreamstime.com Couple (manipulated) © Konradbak | Dreamstime.com

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Chapter One

Malibu, CA

CYN SNAPPED OFF the light in the bathroom, then detoured to the small office alcove she sometimes used during the day while Raphael slept. She grabbed her cell phone and dropped it on her side table when she reached the bed. It was late, almost sunrise, and Raphael was already in bed, sitting up, leaning against the headboard while he scowled at something on his tablet. The sheet was pulled up to his waist, but she knew he was naked underneath there. He always slept naked and expected her to do the same. Usually she did, but not when she was pissed. And tonight, pissed wasn’t far off. Here she was, standing just a few feet away from him, half-naked, wearing nothing but a pair of very sexy, barely-there panties, and he hadn’t even glanced up. Was the thrill gone? She hadn’t thought so. But had they somehow slipped into old-married-couple status already? Jesus, she wasn’t even thirty years old! “Panties off, lubimaya,” Raphael ordered without looking up. Cyn narrowed her gaze in his direction and contemplated a rebellion, even knowing it would be pointless, because he’d get his way in the end. Mostly because he was bigger and faster, and before she knew it, her panties would be history. Still, she had to take a stand, didn’t she? Make a point? She rolled her eyes in disgust and hooked her thumbs under the narrow band of lace at her hips. Fuck. She was just about to yank the underwear off when her cell phone rang. Clearly those frisky bitches of fate wanted her panties on. Picking up the phone, she glanced at the display and sucked in an unhappy breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Raphael lift his head at the sound, saw him shift to full alert mode. She swiped a finger over the screen and was about to answer the call—albeit

reluctantly—but Raphael beat her to it. Using his damn vampire speed, he rolled up to his knees and grabbed the phone from her hand. “Wait!” she cried, but it was too late. Raphael took one look at the caller ID and growled. Actually growled. He was like a big jungle cat, sitting there glaring at a slimy worm that had dared to climb his tree. Except this worm’s name was Nick Katsaros, and he was, to Cyn’s considerable surprise, an ancient sorcerer. Raphael glanced up at her. He knew as well as she did that this call could only mean one thing. A month had ed since Raphael had been taken captive in a plot orchestrated by Mathilde, a vampire lord from Southern . She’d used an ancient magical device known as the Amber Manacles to capture Raphael, and then combined the power of a hundred or more master vampires to hold him captive while she plotted to steal his territory. The plot had failed, in large measure because of Cyn’s determined efforts to free him, but also because Nick Katsaros had shown up out of the blue to deliver the one thing she hadn’t even known she’d needed—the key to the Amber Manacles. She’d known Nick for years before she met Raphael. He’d been her charming and wealthy sometimes lover, her traveling fuck buddy who’d show up in his Ferrari, spend a night or two in her bed, and then disappear until the next time. She’d assumed he was a salesman of some kind, albeit a really, really successful one. Turned out he was an ancient sorcerer. Cyn hadn’t even known sorcerers existed before last month. But Raphael had. He’d not only known about sorcerers, but he’d seemed to know about Nick specifically. Just as Nick had known all about Raphael. And the only thing the two of them seemed to agree on was that they hated each other’s guts. But Nick had come through in a way that had probably saved Raphael’s life and Cyn’s sanity. And so, when she’d inadvertently left the manacles behind in the chaos surrounding Raphael’s rescue, she and Raphael had promised to help Nick recover them, if it turned out that he needed their help. Which he apparently did, because she could think of no other reason why he’d be calling, and especially this close to sunrise. He’d probably gotten his time zones mixed up and figured

Raphael would already be down for the day. He was in for an unpleasant surprise. “Raphael, let me—” she started to protest, but knew before she even said his name that it was pointless. Her alpha badass vampire wasn’t going to let her talk to Nick, no matter how pissed off she might get about it. He stabbed his finger at the answer icon and put the phone to his ear. Cyn didn’t have vampire hearing, so she couldn’t hear what Nick said. But she heard Raphael’s response well enough. “I’m afraid her pain-in-the-ass vampire is quite awake, sorcerer,” he said, his voice steeped with aggression. “What do you want?” He scoffed loudly at whatever Nick said next. “You’ll talk to me or no one.” “Raphael, give me the phone,” she said tightly. He gave her a dark look and spoke into the phone, saying, “I honor my commitments, pizda. You don’t need my Cyn for that.” She sighed. Pizda was Russian, and it was not a very nice word at all. Raphael rarely resorted to truly vulgar swearing. Apparently, Nick brought it out in him. She sighed again, deeply. “We don’t always get what we want,” Raphael said, sneering. She held out her hand in a silent demand, but he didn’t even bother giving her a dark look this time. “You touch her, you die,” he snarled at Nick. Cyn’s patience was so far gone that it wasn’t even in the same time zone anymore. She snatched the phone—her phone—away from Raphael, only succeeding because she took him by surprise. She ran for the bathroom and managed to get inside, but didn’t get the door closed before Raphael was there, his eyes firing silver sparks of anger. Giving him a defiant glare of her own, she put the phone to her ear. “What is it?”

“Finally. That overbearing gorilla you’ve hooked up with needs to learn some phone manners.” “Nick,” she snapped. “You know he can hear every word you’re saying.” “God forbid he permit you a private phone call.” Next to her, Raphael cursed audibly—more filthy Russian—and Nick laughed. Cyn closed her eyes, striving for the strength to deal with these two idiots. “Enough. What do you want?” “I told the vampire. You promised to help me recover the manacles. I’m calling in that promise.” She swallowed a groan. “They weren’t in the house, then?” She was referring to the house in Hawaii where Raphael had been imprisoned. That was where she’d left them in her rush to get him out of there. “No, they weren’t, Cyn,” Nick said deliberately. “So you’re going to help me find them.” “It must have been one of the security guys who took them. They were the only people there, but they were unconscious when we left.” “I agree. It was either them, or someone who came to their rescue, assuming someone did. But it’s a big world, sweetheart. And those manacles could be anywhere. How soon can you get here?” “I don’t know,” she said, stalling. “I don’t even know where ‘here’ is. I’ll need —” That was as far as she got before Raphael’s temper snapped. He grabbed the phone, and she let it go, surprised it had taken him this long. “The agreement was for both of us,” he grated out. “You can have my help alone, or you can have the two of us, but you will not be getting my Cyn without me.” Cyn was leaning on Raphael’s shoulder, straining to hear, so she caught Nick’s next words.

“Does Cyn let you get away with that caveman shit? I’m surprised. The woman I knew—” Raphael didn’t let him finish. “Time is up, sorcerer. Which is it?” “Christ, I liked it better before you came into her life. Fine. I want her, so you can tag along. Try not to slow us down, okay?” “Where and when?” Raphael demanded. “The trail went cold in Lawrence, Kansas, so we’ll start there. It’s a college town, so even you won’t stand out, vampire. We can meet for dinner at six tonight. That is, Cyn and I will meet. You can us later.” “We’ll meet at midnight,” Raphael responded, demonstrating what Cyn thought was amazing restraint in refusing to rise to the bait. “Oh, fine,” Nick agreed, drawing out the last word. If Cyn could have reached through the phone and punched Nick, she would have. He knew perfectly well that Raphael wouldn’t be able to arrive in Kansas by six tonight unless he travelled through daylight, which he rarely did. She did wonder what the hell was wrong with Nick that he felt compelled to lob endless taunts in Raphael’s direction. It couldn’t be jealousy over her, because they’d never been anything more than fuck buddies. Whatever it was, it was going to stop once they met up in Kansas. “I’m afraid there isn’t much in the way of fine hotels—” Nick was saying. “We’ll sleep on the jet,” Raphael interrupted. “My people will make the necessary arrangements.” There was a moment of silence on Nick’s end, and when he finally spoke, he was much more subdued. “Right. Well, good chat,” he said, with a fraction of his previous snark. “I’ll see you tonight at midnight . . . at the airport, apparently.” “We’ll advise you of our location once we arrive.” “Great. See you tonight, Cyn sweetheart,” he shouted and then hung up without waiting for a response.

Cyn shook her head. Nick just couldn’t resist getting that final dig in, and yet, he hadn’t lingered even long enough to hear Raphael’s hissing response. Something was definitely up with him, but he wasn’t her biggest concern right now. No, her biggest concern was the unhappy vampire lord scowling down at her cell phone right now. She took the phone from Raphael’s hand and hit the disconnect button, then walked over and tossed it onto the bedside table. It was very nearly sunrise in this part of the world, and they needed to talk before he fell into his daylight sleep. But Raphael had other plans. Before the phone hit the table, Raphael had wrapped an arm around her waist and slammed her onto the bed, stripping away her panties while she was still bouncing from the impact. Cyn laughed in delight. This was Raphael at his most alpha, primitive best. And it was glorious. There was no romance, no tenderness. This was all about fucking hard and fast, about establishing his claim, marking her as his. He shoved her legs open with his hips, spread her pussy wide with his strong fingers, and then sank his cock into her body, not caring if she was ready for him or not. Cyn’s laugh cut off with a groan. He was thick and long, and it hurt. And she loved that, too. Loved the way he filled her completely, forcing her body to stretch around him, loved the burn of tissues not yet slick and ready for him as he buried himself deep inside her. She dug her teeth into his shoulder, her mouth filling with blood as Raphael growled his hunger and pistoned his hips against her, driving himself to the hilt every time. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched upward as she met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into the powerful muscles of his back. Raphael lifted his head then, his eyes gleaming silver as he stared down at her. There was no reason in that gaze, no humanity. In that moment, he was a vampire lord and she was his prey, his possession, his mate. His fangs split his gums as his fingers twisted in her hair, yanking her head sideways until her neck was stretched taut and bare. He moved with coiled speed, head dropping as fangs sliced into her skin, piercing her vein. Cyn bucked wildly, the combination of his blood in her mouth, his bite in her vein, his cock slamming into her pussy. . . . This was heaven. Exciting, erotic, fucking fantastic heaven. She cried out when the first orgasm hit her, her sheath

squeezing so hard that the muscles of her stomach clenched. Raphael grunted in reaction, the sound shivering over her sweat-sheened skin as his mouth continued to suck long drafts of her blood. The second orgasm hit her, and she screamed, the sound breaking down into sobs as emotion overwhelmed her, and she could only hold on as pleasure broke over her in waves. He was her anchor, her joy, the only man she would ever love. Raphael shoved a big hand under her ass, lifting her hips so he could go even deeper while she thrashed helplessly beneath him. His cock flexed inside her, and he reared back, blood dripping from his fangs as he lifted his head and howled his release. A rush of wet heat filled her body as ripples of sensual pleasure left her trembling, still hanging on to him for dear life. He lowered his head abruptly, staring at her as the silver left his gaze and reason returned. His eyes fell to her neck, where blood still trickled warmly over her skin. With a soft curse, he bent his head and licked the wound shut, depositing a nuzzling kiss of apology at the same time. Cyn smiled. She didn’t need any tender regrets from him. She loved it when he showed his true nature, loved knowing she could drive him to that extreme, could rip away the civilized man to reveal the snarling beast at his core. He lifted his head to meet her eyes, his gaze now showing nothing but unapologetic arrogance. She ran her fingers through his short hair. “Do you trust me?” she asked. His response was immediate and unequivocal. “Yes.” She grinned. “Then get some sleep, fang boy. Because tomorrow we’re going to Kansas.”

Chapter Two

Lawrence, Kansas

FOLLOWING CYN’S directions, Nick pulled to a stop outside the airplane hangar that Raphael had somehow managed to secure for his private use on very short notice. Fucking vampires. All of them could go fuck themselves, but especially this one. He couldn’t really blame the line vamps, the ones who went about their lives almost like regular humans, notwithstanding their need for blood. And even that wasn’t so bad, not with blood houses and clubs drawing in willing volunteers to offer their veins. No, it was the powerful vampires, the vampire lords who irked the hell out of Nick. He was a sorcerer—magic ran in his veins and fired his nerves. He’d been born that way. No one knew why one child was born with magic, while the vast majority weren’t, but no one had thought to ask about it either. Not back when he’d been a child. He’d grown up among a populace so primitive that the sun, the moon, the lightning—virtually anything they couldn’t understand—had been seen as either a god or a gift from one. Having been born with magic, he’d been considered a child of those same gods, a child sent to Earth for reasons no one understood or questioned. There had been the priests, of course, those who pretended to know the will of the gods and tried to assert control over children like Nick. But the gods didn’t really exist, and the sorcerers weren’t about to be controlled by anyone. Nick frowned, wondering at the path of his thoughts. He rarely thought about his youth. It had been eons ago, an era so far back in time that it was lost to human history. Thinking about it only reminded him of everything he’d lost, and how long he’d been looking to recover it. He let the Ferrari idle for a moment, then goosed the gas pedal, taking pleasure in the unique crackling roar of the powerful engine. Raphael wasn’t the only one

with a private plane. But Nick used the extra space on his jet to bring along a suitable vehicle to drive, while the vampire wasted his on bodyguards. He scanned the shadows around the hangar, noting the many vampires lurking in the darkness. Nick didn’t need bodyguards; he was fully capable of defending himself. Honesty compelled him to acknowledge that Raphael probably didn’t need guards either. But it was a thing among powerful vampires, as with kings or rock stars. The entourage was more about impressing others than it was any particular need. Fucking vampires. How the hell had his Cyn ended up with a vampire lord? Well, okay, so she’d never really been his, and really, he wasn’t all that surprised that she’d hooked up with Raphael. As he’d tried to explain to her in Hawaii, she had a unique talent. It was like an extra sense that she’d been born with, maybe even a tiny kernel of the magic of old, that let her feel the magic of others. It was the reason she’d been drawn to him, and almost certainly why she’d been drawn to the vampire too. As for why the vampire had wanted her . . . well, shit, Cyn was beautiful, sexy, and fairly violent when provoked. There wasn’t a more perfect woman for a creature like Raphael. She was not only stunning, but fearless, and the fact that she was also a human magic detector would have made her irresistible. Vampires liked to pretend they were nothing more than the next step in human evolution, but they were drenched in magic for anyone with the senses to detect it. And vampire lords like Raphael knew the truth of it, no matter what they itted to. With a final blast of the engine, he shut down the Ferrari, opened the door, and unfolded his long frame, pretending not to notice the piercing looks of the vampire guards. He had to give it to Raphael—the bastard had a well-trained security team. One of the guards stepped to the sheet-metal door and pulled it open just as Nick approached. No doubt, they’d been muttering away to each other on their Bluetooth earbuds from the moment he’d turned onto airport property. His arrival wasn’t a surprise to anyone. Except maybe to himself. Even a few weeks ago, he’d never have believed he’d be working with vampires. It was just bad luck that vicious bitch Mathilde had gotten her hands on the Amber Manacles and then been stupid enough to use them on Raphael. Although maybe it had been good luck. What were the chances, after all, that the

first time the manacles had surfaced in hundreds of years was to imprison someone he knew? Or at least someone he knew of and had access to. It was almost as if the damn things had wanted to be found, as if they knew they were far too dangerous to exist in this world. And that was attributing self-awareness to things that were nothing more than magic-infused pieces of metal, crafted by a very skilled sorcerer. He stepped over the raised threshold and entered the hangar that was, for the time being, Raphael’s domain. He scanned the interior. The hangar space was sharply diminished by the presence of a Learjet 60, which was crowded into a hangar meant for much smaller aircraft. A conference area had been set up next to the plane—a table big enough to accommodate the six leather chairs that were arranged around it. All of it sat on a huge rug which covered the concrete floor. And how the hell had the vampire managed to arrange that? This wasn’t even his territory. In fact, Nick was surprised that Raphael had managed to travel here on such short notice. He’d rather counted on him not being able to come. Actually, he’d been hoping he could secure Cyn’s assistance without her broody lover tagging along. Vampire lords were notoriously hostile to one another and very prickly about letting each other wander around their domains. Raphael’s presence here only a few hours after he’d agreed to the meeting seemed to the rumors Nick had been hearing about a coalition among the eight vampire lords who ruled North America—at least the vampire part of it. If that was true, if the powerful vampire lords really had ed together and were all buddy-buddy now . . . that would a formidable force. They could take over the continent if they wanted, and they wouldn’t hesitate to go after anyone who threatened their power base. Especially not a sorcerer like Nick. Vampires and sorcerers had never gotten along, and that was a massive understatement. They’d done their best to wipe each other from the face of the earth. Nick was damn strong, for all that he rarely used his power anymore, but he’d be hard-pressed to stand against the combined might of the North American lords. But he was getting ahead of himself. A conference table and a rug did not a revolution make. He felt the door close behind him, which made him aware of how long he’d been

standing there staring. And that thought propelled him into motion. It wouldn’t do to let the vampire think he’d been impressed, or even worse, intimidated. Nick hadn’t been intimidated by anything or anyone in thousands of years. He wasn’t going to start now. He started forward in a deliberate stroll, permitting himself a casual glance around, taking in the guards on the perimeter, the two at the bottom of the plane’s stairs, the one at the top. Jesus, did Raphael really need this much protection? He smiled privately, thinking it was because of him. Cyn might not understand how powerful he was, but Raphael surely did. Movement at the top of the stairs drew his attention. He turned in time to see Cyn appear in the plane’s open doorway, her attention on whatever, or whoever, was farther back inside. She was dressed for work, which meant she was armed. Her weapon was in a shoulder rig, worn over a black, long-sleeved tee. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black combat-style pants that hugged her very fine ass and firm thighs, before traveling down her long legs to be tucked into a pair of black combat boots. He had very vivid memories of fucking that body. But he wasn’t stupid enough to let that interfere with what they needed to do tonight. Cyn belonged to Raphael in a way she’d never belonged to him. The truth was that he’d never even tried to catch her, partly because of his own sense of selfpreservation and partly due to his genuine care for Cyn. He was way too fucked up for any woman to tie herself to him. On the other hand, if he’d known Cyn was going to end up with a fucking vampire lord, he might have tried to grab her for himself first. She grinned at the person he couldn’t see inside the plane, then turned and started down the stairs, at which point she glanced up and saw him standing there. She smiled and waved, but stopped halfway down and waited until Raphael appeared in the doorway above her. Of course, the vampire wouldn’t let her greet Nick without him. Raphael’s gaze landed on Nick and stayed there. No smile or wave from the vampire, Nick thought, snickering to himself. Raphael slipped an arm around Cyn’s waist when he reached her, putting her behind him when they stepped onto the floor of the hangar. Well, that was just insulting. Cyn didn’t need protection against anybody, much less Nick. He’d

never hurt her. The vampire, on the other hand, he wouldn’t mind shoving a stake into, but he wasn’t that suicidal. First of all, Raphael wouldn’t be easy to kill. But secondly, Cyn would kill anyone who tried, even her old lover Nick. And that was assuming Raphael’s many minions didn’t get to him first. The vampire had some powerful people around him. Nick was a formidable sorcerer. He could take on many of them—maybe even most of them—but even he had his limits. “Vampire,” he said, meeting Raphael’s black gaze and feeling slightly foolish as the two of them stood only a few feet apart, staring each other down like a couple of prize fighters after a weigh-in. Raphael didn’t say anything, just stared daggers at him, while Cyn ignored them both and headed for the conference table, muttering something about testosterone and assholes. The vampire gave Nick a final sneer, then followed Cyn, taking the seat next to her on one side of the rectangular table. That left the seat at the head of the table empty, and Nick was strongly tempted to take it for himself, but a look from Cyn—one that threatened bodily damage if he tried— had him pulling out the chair opposite her instead. He couldn’t let it go at that, however. He shot her a grin as he sat down and said, “Good evening, darling. How was the flight?” She just rolled her eyes and placed a hand on Raphael’s forearm, as if to forestall any reaction. “Would you like anything to drink?” she asked instead. “We have the usual. Water, coffee, tea, . . . vodka.” “What about the unusual?” he couldn’t help asking. She gave him a saccharine sweet smile and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know sorcerers drank blood. Would you like it warmed?” Next to her, Raphael snorted his amusement. It was on Nick’s tongue to suggest he’d like his blood hot from the vein, namely Cyn’s, but that whole not-suicidal thing came up again, so he just tipped his head in Cyn’s direction in a silent touché. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, assuming control of the meeting, which ittedly was the wisest course, because he and Raphael would either bicker

back and forth all night, or come to blows over it. “What do we know?” she asked Nick. Nick turned his chair sideways, legs crossed, one arm on the tabletop, pretending an ease that he wasn’t feeling. If it had been the two of them, it wouldn’t have been a pose, but having Raphael so close was like steel wool scraping at his nerves. And this time it had nothing to do with Cyn. He might have thought— okay he did think—the vampire was bad for her, but even he had to it that it was obvious they loved each other. And he knew vampires well enough to know that Raphael would protect her. So it wasn’t concern for Cyn that left him feeling so raw that he expected blood to start leaking from his pores at any moment. No, that was Raphael himself. The damn vampire wasn’t simply powerful. His strength was several orders of magnitude beyond that of any vampire Nick had ever met. Nick’s own power reacted to Raphael’s presence, preparing for an attack, demanding a response. It was a constant state of readiness that was exhausting. He forced himself to focus on Cyn’s question, wanting to get out of this damn hangar as soon as possible. “I’ve ID’d the guards involved,” he said. “And you were right; there were just the four, which means one of them has to have taken the manacles from the house in Hawaii.” “How’d you get their IDs?” she asked. “Connections. I checked airline manifests for departures on the days following the rescue. There was always a chance one or more of them might have stayed behind, but I got lucky. All four left the next day, their fares paid for by their employer, who’s a fairly well-known security contractor. I confess, I was a little surprised Mathilde used North American talent instead of bringing in her own from Europe.” “She was already flying in a large number of vampires from Europe to bolster her power,” Raphael said, surprising him. “Adding daylight personnel would have added to her expense, and to Mathilde, one human was the same as any other.” He twisted his arm beneath Cyn’s hand, changing their positions so that her fingers were entwined with his on top of the table. “Yeah, well, it was good luck for us,” Nick continued. “Four tickets in first class the very next day, purchased by a high-profile purveyor of private security

personnel? Pretty much a dead giveaway.” “How’d you get that data?” Cyn persisted, with a touch of suspicion. “Not just the manifests, but information on the purchaser?” “I told you, darling. Connections.” She ignored the darling, regarding him instead with a curious tilt to her head. “Federal connections,” she concluded accurately. No one had ever claimed Cyn was all beauty and no brains. At least, no one who knew her for more than ten minutes. Nick nodded silently and continued, not wanting that shrewd brain of hers to delve too deeply into exactly what kind of federal connections he might have. His arrangement with the government wasn’t exactly aboveboard. In fact, it didn’t appear on anyone’s budget request or organizational chart. Let her think he’d bought a Homeland Security official or two. “Anyway,” he said, “four guys were on that flight, two from the same hometown.” “Lawrence, Kansas,” she said, understanding immediately. He tipped his head in agreement. “I figured why not start there? Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. And luck was with me again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the manacles wanted to be found,” he said, echoing his earlier thoughts. “Is that possible?” “With the manacles? I don’t think so. With some other objects . . . it is possible, in a manner of speaking. Some artifacts are designed to be profoundly visible to those like you, Cyn, with the power to see them.” Her mouth tightened unhappily. “I’m not sure I buy into this whole magic detector idea you have of me.” “No?” Nick said, shifting a lazy look in Raphael’s direction, meeting the vampire lord’s cold eyes. “What do you think, vampire? Can our Cyn sense magic?” Raphael’s expression promised revenge, but all he said was, “My Cyn is extraordinary in every way.”

Cyn was studying Raphael, an odd look on her face, but her expression gave nothing away when she turned her attention back to Nick. “We’re here, so I’m guessing one of the two local boys brought the manacles home with him. But why do you need us? Why not walk up to the door, offer them a bunch of money, and buy the damn things? That has to be why they took them in the first place, to sell them.” “If only it were that easy,” Nick commented. “First, you’re right. The present owner does plan to sell them. But the present owner is not the man who took them from that house in Hawaii. That man died under suspicious circumstances within a week of his return here to Lawrence.” “Suspicious how?” “Local authorities are calling it a suicide. His parents don’t believe it, and neither do I. I’m pretty sure his good buddy killed him in order to get his hands on the manacles, which, in turn, he now plans to sell for the kind of money that would motivate a man to kill his best friend. Assuming he hasn’t already. Sold them, that is.” “So we find our killer and get the manacles, if he has them. If not, then we find out who bought them and track down the buyer.” “If only it were—” “Yeah, yeah, I get it. What happened?” Cyn said resignedly. “Our best-friend-turned-killer is in the wind. I assume it’s to prevent the local authorities from charging him with his buddy’s murder, with maybe a touch of fear about the kind of person who might seek to buy something like the manacles from him. That’s probably a wise instinct on his part, although it’s difficult to say until I discover which buyer he’s dealing with.” “So, the manacles aren’t here, the buyer—if there is one—isn’t here, and neither is the guy who lifted them in the first place. Then why are we here?” “Because it’s the last confirmed location I have for the manacles, and because our killer’s parents are still here, and he lived at home.” “You think the parents might know something?”

“It’s worth a shot.” She shook her head. “I still don’t know why Raphael and I are here. You don’t need us for this.” “You’re right. I only need you, but the big . . . vampire wouldn’t let you come alone.” It wasn’t what he’d been about to say, but he’d switched words at the last minute in response to Cyn’s squinty-eyed glare. She’d walk away if he pushed too hard, and he really did need her on this. She was better at the kind of straightforward investigation that this case called for. Plus, she wasn’t above a bit of breaking and entering if it came down to it. His own skill—apart from the true magic of his sorcery—lay along the lines of persuading people to do what he wanted, but some folks were not only immune to his charm, but put off by it. Cyn, on the other hand, could be quite disarming when she put her mind to it. People tended to want to please her, which meant they generally told her what she wanted to know. He was sure it had something to do with her looks. Study after study had shown that attractive people received more favorable treatment. “You want me to talk to the parents of the guy who sold the manacles,” she guessed now. “I want both of us to talk to them. You’re going to be my wife.”

CYN DIDN’T NEED to feel Raphael’s hand squeezing her fingers almost hard enough to break bones to know what his reaction would be to Nick’s announcement. He wouldn’t undermine her by saying anything in front of Nick, but he definitely did not want her going off alone with the sorcerer. “You want us to pretend to be a couple to disarm the parents,” she guessed. “What’s our story? Just ing through, thought we’d drop in and see an old friend? How do we know him?” “The military, of course. It’s clearly the centerpiece of the guy’s life so far.” “This is a waste of time,” Raphael interrupted with a growl. “Put me in the same room with the parents, and I’ll tell you everything they know.”

“I thought we’d hold out on the torture techniques until absolutely necessary,” Nick said mockingly. “Don’t lecture me about cruelty, sorcerer. I know the history between our races as well as you, and I know who you are.” The air in the hangar was abruptly charged with violence as the two of them glared their hatred across the table. Cyn’s heart was racing. Her brain knew she wasn’t in danger from either one of them, but it was difficult to convince her body of that, what with her well-honed survival instincts flaring bright and sharp and urging her to run. She wasn’t alone in her reaction, either. Raphael’s vampires had gone on full alert all around the hangar, and Juro leapt from the small plane, hitting the concrete floor in a single bound before coming to a sudden halt at the bottom of the stairs. She glanced at Raphael, knowing he’d told Juro to wait. The big vampire wouldn’t have paused otherwise. The other guards were similarly watching and waiting, on alert, but not moving in. Nick grinned suddenly, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which were still hot with anger. There was a history between these two, she realized. Raphael had said he didn’t know Nick personally, and she believed him as far as that statement went. He didn’t lie to her anymore, didn’t hold back unpleasant truths. They’d nearly lost each other the last time he’d tried something like that, and he’d sworn it wouldn’t happen again. She believed him about that, too. He loved her so deeply that it scared her sometimes. Not because she feared him, but because she worried she couldn’t possibly live up to the depths of his love. She reached over with her free hand and stroked Raphael’s forearm, drawing his attention to the hard grip he had on her other hand. He relaxed it right away, but didn’t let go. Nick stood suddenly, his gaze fixed on their clasped hands, before he lifted his eyes to meet her curious stare. He gave her that same grin, the one that most people would buy at face value. She didn’t, but she didn’t know what was behind it either. Why was Nick so obsessed with her relationship with Raphael? So far, this meeting had only produced more questions. And most of those had nothing to do with the missing manacles. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, Cyn. Assuming your keeper will open the

cage door, that is.” She sighed. He just wouldn’t let it go. This little adventure was going to be exhausting if the two of them couldn’t stop sniping at each other. “Any particular time the parents are home?” she asked, knowing Nick would have researched that sort of detail. “I want to try the mom alone first. She’s a homemaker who sometimes runs errands in the morning, but she’s always home in the afternoon, because she babysits the grandkids after school.” “I’m not doing this in front of kids,” Cyn told him firmly. “I’m wounded that you think so little of me.” He said it lightly, but a small stab of guilt hit her anyway. The conflict between him and Raphael was beginning to wear on her. She really didn’t think Nick would ever bring kids into a potentially dangerous situation. “I’ll pick you up at one,” he said. “The kids don’t get to Grandma’s ’til three thirty, so we should be good. And I know how you like to hang around in bed and sleep late.” Cyn closed her eyes when he said that, feeling the tension ratchet back up in Raphael’s big body. “Okay,” she said, coming to her feet. She’d had enough for one night. “Nick, if you could e-mail me everything you have—” He nodded, smiling, until she continued. “—then I think we’ve done all we can, and this meeting is over. Like right now.” “I’m wounded.” “Uh huh,” she said dismissively. “Thanks for coming. I’ll see you here tomorrow afternoon.” Nick gave her a suggestive leer as he stood. “If you need me for anything at all —” “Nick,” she breathed, both exasperated and worn out by his constant teasing.

“All right, all right. I know where I’m not wanted,” he said, laughing. “I’ll have my girl send you those files, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned and strolled toward the exit, but spun around when he reached for the door, to get in one final shot. “Don’t worry, vampire. I’ll take good care of her.” Cyn wished for something heavy and a good throwing arm at that moment. Nick gave her a knowing wink and pulled open the door, ducking outside before she could lay her hands on a suitable projectile. This was one of those times when she wished for some magic of her own. And speaking of magic . . . She heard a creaking groan and looked back to find the wooden table straining under the grip of Raphael’s powerful fingers. Cyn reached down and placed her hand over his, sliding onto his lap as she did so. Cyn wasn’t big on lap-sitting, but sometimes it was necessary. “Look at me, Raphael,” she ordered softly. It took a moment, but he shifted his eyes to meet hers. “If I kill him,” he said in a voice completely lacking emotion, “there will be no reason to hunt down the manacles.” She laughed nervously, not at all certain he was joking. “We should probably get the damn things back anyway,” she reasoned. “I hate it that Mathilde used them against you. And really, this is partly my fault. I never should have left them there in the first place.” He hugged her closer. “As I recall, you were otherwise occupied at the time,” he said roughly. And she felt a rush of liquid warmth between her thighs at the memory of those first few moments when she’d unlocked the manacles and set him free. He’d been hungry, starving. First for her blood . . . and then for her body. “We should get back to Kansas City,” she said, but made no effort to move. She might not be a lap-sitter, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the sensation. Being close to Raphael, having his arms around her, his heart beating against her ribs . . . she wished they could forget about all the bullshit in their world. Forget about European invaders and ancient mystical devices. Forget even about ancient sorcerers, even if one of them was Nick.

She frowned as that thought crossed her mind, but then Raphael patted her butt and said, “You’re right. And the sorcerer is gone by now, so we can leave, too.” Cyn stood and took his hand, then pulled him to his feet behind her. His standing was a signal, and his vampires were suddenly on the move, hustling in from their watchful corners to establish a new perimeter as she and Raphael made their way, not back onto the Learjet, but into one of the big, black Escalades parked at the rear of the hangar. What they hadn’t told Nick, what Raphael would never agree to tell him, was that they hadn’t flown from LA to Lawrence. The Lear, for all its comforts, wasn’t nearly big enough to hold all of the personnel necessary for a trip like this. Raphael’s security was always tight, but for this trip, Juro had gone all out. He seemed completely in tune with Raphael when it came to the threat posed by Nick, and Cyn was reminded again that she needed to ask Raphael about what was obviously a long and ugly history between vampires and sorcerers. She hated being kept in the dark, especially when it came to things that might threaten Raphael’s life. In fact, she was a little pissed that no one had volunteered the information before this meeting. Regardless of that, the fact of the matter was that they’d flown Raphael’s Boeing 707 into Kansas City and driven to Lawrence. The Lear had already been in Lawrence by then, having been flown in during the day along with several of Raphael’s daylight personnel who met with their counterparts on Lucas’s staff. Lucas was Lord of the Plains Territory, which included Kansas, and so it had been necessary to coordinate this visit with him. It was a big deal among vampires when one lord visited another one’s territory, but ever since the North American vamps had come together in an alliance, things were easier. Even without the alliance, though, it wouldn’t have been a problem for Raphael to visit Kansas. Lucas was Raphael’s child, and they remained close, no matter that Lucas now ruled a territory of his own. They could have just gone ahead and met Nick in Kansas City, where the 707 was parked. But since that was also where Raphael and his vampires were sleeping during the day, he wasn’t about to reveal that location to Nick. So, they’d driven to Lawrence earlier, and were now driving back to Kansas City. There were three SUVs in the small convoy. One of Raphael’s security people was driving their SUV with Juro in the enger seat. Jared was back home in Malibu. He’d wanted to come with them—Raphael’s vampires were all sort of

clingy in the aftermath of Hawaii—but with the war going on, someone had to stay behind to hold down the fort, and this time around that someone was Jared. It was quiet and comfortable in the vehicle with just the four of them, and a sense of being separate from the world zooming by outside fostered an atmosphere of privacy. Cyn snuggled closer in the curve of Raphael’s arm. As usual, she was the only one wearing a seatbelt, which made it easier to cuddle in the dark cocoon of the back seat. “What’s the deal with you and Nick?” Her voice was almost sleepy sounding, she was so relaxed. She felt Raphael’s heavy shoulders move in a shrug. “He’s a sorcerer. I told you, they can’t be trusted.” “Yeah, but why? What’s the history between you guys?” “I never met him before Hawaii.” Cyn wanted to punch him, or maybe just dig her elbow into his hard gut. He was being deliberately obtuse. “Raphael,” she said with forced patience, “why do vampires hate sorcerers? Everyone seems to know about it except me, and I’m getting sick of being in the dark while you and Nick throw conversation bombs at one another.” “Conversation bombs?” he repeated, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. “Raphael.” He sighed lightly. “It goes back to before I was born, though not before your friend Nicolas Katsaros was.” She blinked in surprise. “But you’re nearly five hundred—” “Exactly. I don’t know precisely how old Katsaros is, but I can feel the weight of his years pressing on me when we’re in the same room. He is ancient, my Cyn.” “Like hundreds of years ancient or . . . ?” Her question trailed off leadingly.

“Thousands,” Raphael said simply. “That’s impossible,” she said immediately. “I can buy vampires being hundreds of years old and still walking around looking good—” “Thank you,” he muttered. “—but thousands of years? I’m not sure I can buy that.” He shrugged again. “The truth is not dependent on belief, yours or anyone else’s. I will agree,” he hurried to add, when she surrendered to impulse and elbowed him in the gut, “that Katsaros’s situation is unique. Sorcerers of his age aren’t exactly littering the earth, but that doesn’t change the facts. He is ancient. Precisely how ancient, I don’t know.” “Huh.” She thought about it a minute, then frowned, realizing what he’d done. Or at least tried to do. “But you’re not going to distract me with that,” she assured him. “I want to know why vampires hate sorcerers, and vice versa. Because it’s obvious that Nick doesn’t like you any more than you like him.” She could feel the weight of Raphael’s stare when he turned and gave her a long look. He was probably wondering why he couldn’t have fallen in love with a stupid woman, or at least someone more pliant. She smiled sweetly back at him, and he choked back a laugh. He did love her, even though sometimes he might wish he didn’t. “The hatred goes back centuries. Again, long before I was born. This much I know to be true, because my Sire was there and she told me about it. Vampires have always outnumbered sorcerers, because sorcerers are born, not created. And they’re fairly rare. No one knows why one child will be a sorcerer, but his siblings won’t. Or why a sorcerer parent is no more likely to produce a sorcerer child than anyone else. “Vampires, on the other hand, are made creatures. Our numbers depend only on the whim of our Sires. As recently as five hundred years ago, powerful vampires were siring armies of offspring to defend themselves against attacks from both humans and other vampires. Which meant that for every sorcerer, there were at least a few hundred vampires. “This imbalance made sorcerers uneasy. Even though only a very few vampires

were powerful enough to rival them, more were being made every year, while sorcerers seemed to be dying off. Some hypothesized that the earth was losing its magic and could no longer sustain even the few sorcerers being born. I don’t know about that, but I do know that the sorcerers decided vampires were the problem, that we were soaking up all of the magical energy, and that’s why sorcerers were dying. “In their wisdom,” he said, his tone making it clear that he didn’t think wisdom had any part in what happened, “they crafted a plan of wholesale slaughter, seeking out the daytime resting places of vampires and killing them while they were helpless. The idea and necessity for vampires to have a daytime guard force was born during this time. At first, the sorcerers simply killed the human guards in order to get to the vampires. But those guards had family and friends, some even had human lords to whom they were sworn, and their deaths did not go unnoticed. At the same time, the vampires started fighting back, and the sorcerers learned a difficult lesson . . . they were no longer the only power on earth. Most of them didn’t even approach Katsaros’s level of ability, and they suddenly found themselves as helpless as the vampires they’d so eagerly slaughtered.” “So what happened?” Cyn prodded, when he lapsed into thoughtful silence. “A truce of sorts. There was nothing formal, it was more understood. Vampires and sorcerers simply stopped killing each other.” “Just like that?” “I’m sure it was weeks or months before it ended completely.” She frowned. “You said sorcerers were dying off. How many are there now? And why haven’t I heard of them before this?” “I don’t believe anyone’s taken a formal count, but I would guess there are fewer than a hundred of them left in the world, and no more than one or two of those are as powerful as Katsaros.” “I wonder how old he really is,” she murmured, privately wondering about herself and really old guys. Raphael was flirting with five hundred years, and now it turned out that Nick was even older. Sheesh. She caught the flash of Raphael’s smile and knew he was following her train of thought.

“His past is a bit murky, which makes it difficult to know. Maybe he’ll tell you his full story now that you know the truth of him.” “Maybe,” she said doubtfully. It seemed to her that if Nick had wanted her to know his history, he would have told her what he was in the first place. He’d never even hinted at being anything but an ordinary human. She glanced up as the lights of the Kansas City airport came into view. Juro skirted the main terminals in favor of the general aviation service area. A lot of the private aircraft flying into Kansas City favored the smaller and more centrally located downtown airport, but their runways couldn’t accommodate a Boeing 707. On the other hand, private hangar space at the international airport was at a . Fortunately, Lucas knew a guy who knew a guy, and one of the regular maintenance hangars had been made available. True, the hangar was currently being renovated and so it wasn’t exactly luxe, but then, all Raphael and his people needed was a private space that could be secured against intruders. The hangar was completely lit up when they arrived. Anyone watching would assume the 707 was simply in for service. But as soon as the three SUVs crossed the threshold and were parked next to the jet, the big doors were closed and locked. Cyn was accustomed to the routine and so she waited patiently while the security personnel in the other two SUVs piled out and verified the safety of the hangar, before giving Juro the go-ahead via the wireless comm they all wore. One of the security vamps approached the SUV, but Raphael beat him to the punch, opening the door and stepping outside before holding out a hand to Cyn. She was accustomed to this, too. Most of her life, she’d resisted the idea that she needed a man to open her car door or help her disembark—unless she was wearing a skirt and heels, that was. In those cases, men were very handy to have around. But she’d learned during her time with Raphael that it was one of the ways he cared for her. And so she took his proffered hand with a smile, laughing when he used the connection to tug her closer, wrap an arm around her back, and pull her in for a quick kiss. This was an entirely different Raphael than the one who’d been sitting in that other hangar, meeting with Nick. That Raphael had been all coiled tension and . . . well, hatred wasn’t too strong a word. Regardless of the circumstances of his meeting with Nick, the instincts that had kept Raphael alive for so long had held him on edge, waiting for the attack he knew was coming.

But now he was back among his own people, and there was work to be done. His responsibilities didn’t stop just because he wasn’t in Malibu. The 707 was like a flying office, and he had both corporate and vampire business to attend to. “I have a conference call in ten minutes,” he said, his fingers running lightly up and down her spine as he guided her over to the aircraft stairs. “Good timing,” she said, puzzled at the precision of the call’s scheduling. “Good logistics,” he corrected. “My people set it up as soon as we left Lawrence.” Cyn nodded. She should have known. “What will you be doing?” he asked, once they’d climbed the stairs and were inside the luxuriously appointed aircraft. “Research,” she said simply. “I trust Nick—” Raphael scoffed loudly, and she continued. “—as far as his own interests go,” she finished, giving him a so there look. “But when it comes to anything that puts you or me in danger, I don’t trust anyone but myself and my own sources. I’ll start with the basics. I’m sure he’s right about the four guards, and we already know it had to be one of them who took the manacles. Everything after that, I’ll check for myself.” He kissed her again. “I knew there was a reason I picked you as my mate.” “You didn’t pick me, fang boy. I picked you, and it was purely physical.” He gave her the smug grin of a man who knew exactly what he was worth. Cyn patted him on his solid chest and then left him to his master-of-the-universe affairs, heading to their personal quarters at the rear of the plane. Ten minutes later, she had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, and was sitting barefooted and cross-legged on the bed with her laptop in front of her. She settled in for a long night of what she did best . . . research. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t exactly what she did best—she was happier in the field with a gun in her hand—but that didn’t meant she wasn’t damn good at it. Before the sun rose, she’d know more than Nick did about their missing guard . . . and maybe even a bit more about Nick himself than she’d ever thought to look for.

Chapter Three

ONE O’CLOCK CAME way too early. Actually, her alarm had been set for eleven o’clock, because she’d needed to get showered and dressed and then drive all the way to Lawrence where she was meeting Nick. As it was, she cut it too close. When she pulled up in front of the locked hangar where the Lear was secured, Nick was already waiting, leaning against a shiny red Ferrari, ankles crossed, looking for all the world like a man with time to spare and nowhere to go. Nick had always had that air about him, a carefree attitude that made it look like he hadn’t a worry in the world. She’d bought into it then, but now she knew better. “A Ferrari?” she said skeptically as she stepped down from the big SUV and closed the door. “If you’re going to drive, you might as well drive the best,” he answered cheerfully. “Uh huh. I think we’ll take my vehicle this afternoon.” Nick looked so aghast that she laughed. “The Ferrari doesn’t exactly say young couple on a cross-country road trip. I think Mrs. . . . what’s her name anyway?” “Anna Briley. Her son is Gary, Jr.” “Is Gary Sr. still alive?” “He is indeed. He’s an attorney with a large firm in Kansas City, very highly regarded. However, with any luck, we won’t be meeting him.” “Well, I think Anna will be more likely to talk to us if we show up in an SUV instead of a Ferrari. But at least you’re dressed for the part.” She gestured at his low-slung jeans and black leather jacket over a dark blue T-shirt. She could it to herself that he looked good. But then, Nick had always looked good.

She had excellent taste in men, after all. “We could be a wealthy young couple. Maybe I married you for your money,” he persisted, still pushing for the Ferrari. “Besides, I’m not comfortable leaving my car out here.” “I’ll have one of the guards move it inside the hangar.” Nick scoffed loudly. “If you insist on taking that truck, I’ll move my own car.” It was Cyn’s turn to scoff. “In your dreams. You’re not getting inside that hangar, and you know it.” He laughed. “It was worth a try. Where are you coming from anyway? I thought for sure the vampire would chain you to his bed during the day.” Cyn rolled her eyes, not bothering bother to address that last comment. “Getting up this early makes me hungry. I grabbed some lunch.” “The bloodsucker doesn’t let you eat?” “Nick,” she said impatiently. “What’s your problem with Raphael?” “He has you.” “Bullshit. You and I were never more than friends, and you know it.” “We were a little more than friends, darling.” “So we fucked when you came to town, but that’s all I was to you. A fuck buddy for when you visited LA.” “You make it sound so tawdry,” he drawled, then sighed at her stubborn expression. “Maybe I think you deserve better than a bloodsucking creature of the night.” “Fine. If you’re not going to be serious about this, let’s just go. You can brief me on the way.” She started to open the driver’s side door on the Escalade, but he stopped her. “I’ll agree to the truck, but I’m driving.”

“Why?” “Because I’m the man, darling.” She blew out a dismissive breath. “Neanderthal.” “It’s our honeymoon. I’ll let you drive when we’re old and gray.” “In your dreams.”

THE BRILEY RESIDENCE was a few miles out of the city, a big, gray stone house surrounded by a large wooded lot, with a long, gravel driveway leading off the main road. Cyn glimpsed an enclosed sun porch on the back of the house, overlooking the woods and what was probably a natural water source—a pond or small lake. She figured they probably needed the enclosed porch to keep the mosquitoes from eating them alive during the summer. Or whatever. “Do they have mosquitoes in Kansas?” she asked Nick idly. “How the hell would I know?” She laughed. “Wasn’t that covered in sorcerer school? You know, bugs of the world or something?” “Sorcerer school? Are you probing, babe?” “You can’t blame me for being curious, babe. How many years did I know you, and not once did you mention the whole ancient sorcerer thing.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t really relevant. Did your vampire tell you his life’s history?” “In fact, he did.” She didn’t mention that it took months for Raphael to get around to it, and that it was after he nearly tore them apart. “Bully for him.” He pulled up in front of the Briley home and jammed the gearshift into park. “For this afternoon, you’re mine. Don’t forget it.” “Don’t worry about me. I may not be a professional liar like some people, but I

can hold my own.” “When did I ever lie to you?” he demanded. “Oh, did you think I meant you?” she asked innocently. “Very funny. Come on, wife. Try to pretend like you love me.” She put her hand on his arm. “I do love you, Nick. I just wish I knew you better.” He stared at her hand on his arm, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. For a brief moment, she saw a terrible sadness in his whiskey-colored eyes, and then he grinned and it was gone. “I don’t think the dark and broody one would approve, darling.” She shook her head lightly. There was clearly a lot more to Nick than she’d ever known. But now wasn’t the time for a heart-to-heart between old lovers. They had a job to do. “Let’s do this,” she said. “What do I call you?” “Baby, darling, honey.” “Nick, I’m serious.” “Me, too,” he insisted then grinned. “Nick will do. There’s no reason not to use our real names. Nick and Cindy Clark.” “Why do I have to be Cindy? I hate that.” “Because Cyn is too unique. And it’s only for an hour or so.” “The things I do . . .” He laughed. “Yeah, this is a real sacrifice. Come on.” He met her in front of the Escalade and took her hand, squeezing slightly. Cyn felt . . . odd, holding another man’s hand, especially a man who’d once been her lover. But even she couldn’t object to the gesture. A real married couple would hold hands, especially a young couple on a trip they’d probably planned for a while. Maybe even a delayed honeymoon. Yeah, you’re probably overthinking

this one, Cyn. She smiled slightly at the thought. Nick led her up the short walk to a tall set of wooden doors with cut-glass inserts. She could hear the doorbell as it sounded inside, and then footsteps before a woman’s voice called, “I’m coming.” Cyn shook her head at the woman’s response. Before she’d shacked up with Raphael, she’d barely answered her front door, and then only after ing the visitor’s identity on her security video. If she didn’t know the person, she didn’t bother answering. And she sure as hell never announced her presence to strangers. The door opened to reveal a pleasant-looking woman of sixty or so, wearing dark slacks and an Oxford-style buttoned shirt in white with faint pink stripes. Her dark hair was neatly cut and highlighted with gray in a way that Cyn knew came from a good stylist. She gave them a friendly, if somewhat puzzled, smile. “Hi,” Nick said, pulling out some of the charm he’d always had in abundance. It was why she’d assumed he was a salesman. “Mrs. Briley?” The woman nodded and he continued. “I’m Nick Clark, and this is my wife Cindy. I served with Gary a couple of years back.” “You were in Afghanistan?” Nick nodded. “And before that in San Diego. We met in boot camp.” Her smile widened. “Gary Junior hated boot camp.” He grinned. “We all did, but it kept us alive later on.” Anna shook her head. “A terrible thing. I worried so much when he was over there.” “That’s what my mom tells me, too,” Nick agreed. “But we made it. Which is why we’re here. I told Gary before we got out that Cindy and I were going to take this trip, and he said to stop by. So here we are.” “Oh, dear. I’m afraid you’ve missed him, but . . . well, where are my manners? Come in, won’t you?” she said, stepping back and inviting them inside. “Would you like some coffee? A cold drink?”

Nick kept hold of Cyn’s hand as he moved into the house, following Anna to a seating area next to a big, open-concept kitchen. Cyn glanced around curiously. The house was nicely furnished, albeit not to her taste. The floor was tiled in multiple hues of brown and beige, and there was a lot of wood everywhere. Wood cabinets, wood ing, wood mantel on the fireplace. Between the wood and the tiles, there was an awful lot of brown. But she supposed some people would find it homey and welcoming. Those same people would probably think her own décor was cold and uninviting, she thought with a slight smile. To each her own. “Coffee?” Anna repeated, heading into the kitchen. “If it’s not too much trouble,” Cyn said, speaking for the first time. “We got an early start this morning, and the coffee in the room was pretty awful.” “Oh my, yes,” Anna agreed. “We always bring a thermos of our own if we can. Cream and sugar?” “For me,” Cyn said. “Nicky takes it black. Thank you.” Nicky gave her a dark look. He liked a lot of sugar in his coffee, and she knew it. She smiled. Bitch, he mouthed silently, making her swallow a laugh. “Will Gary be back soon?” Nick asked, settling onto the sofa and pulling Cyn down next to him. “We could grab a bite somewhere and come back later.” “I’m afraid not,” Anna said, sounded truly apologetic. “He took off a couple of days ago for a job interview. Arizona, I think.” “Darn,” Nick swore softly. Cyn rolled her eyes at the PG swear word. “But we’re heading that way, so maybe we can meet up. Do you have a cell number for him?” “I don’t,” Anna said with what sounded like real dismay as she set a tray in front of them, bearing the two cups of coffee, along with cream and sugar. “He said something about roaming charges and getting a new cell phone once he got there. But I haven’t heard from him yet. I can let him know you stopped by next time he calls, though,” she added brightly. “I’ll give him your number.”

“That would be great,” Nick said, as Cyn disengaged her hand and stood. “Could I use your bathroom, Mrs. Briley? We’ve been on the road for hours.” “Of course, and do call me Anna. It’s just down the hall there, past the office. The towels are fresh.” Cyn smiled. “Thank you,” she said and started off toward it, while Nick kept Anna busy answering questions about her many grandchildren. She found the bathroom easily enough and made a lot of noise closing the door, albeit from outside in the hallway. Her real goal had nothing to do with the bathroom and everything to do with the office so handily located next door. As far as Cyn could tell, there was no one in the house except Anna, and she trusted Nick to keep her busy. Stepping into the office, she swept a cursory glance over the desk and credenza, muttering a soft “yes” when she saw a cordless phone sitting on its charger on a bookshelf. With a quick glance back in the direction of the kitchen, she stepped over to the phone and hit the menu button, seeing that the directory and call log were both full of numbers. She’d hoped to find a cell phone, but this was actually better—no necessary. She slipped the phone into her purse. They wouldn’t be able to go too far from the house, probably not even to the end of that long driveway, but that should give her plenty of time to copy the call log, and check the directory for Gary Jr.’s cell number. Leaving the charger base empty and being careful not to move it from its original location, she tiptoed back down the hall, opened the bathroom door quietly, closed it again, then flushed the toilet and washed her hands, drying them on one of Anna’s clean guest towels. Nick looked up when she walked back into the room, and she gave him a wink. He raised one eyebrow then stood to meet her. “We should get going, darling,” he told her. “I want to make Colorado tonight.” Cyn nodded, then walked over to Anna Briley and shook her hand. “Thank you for inviting us into your lovely home, Anna, and for the coffee, too.” “Well, of course, dear. I’m only sorry you missed Junior.”

“Did you give Anna our number, Nick?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. “Sure did. I’m thinking we’ll hook up with Gary in Arizona.” Cyn turned back to Anna. “Thank you again. I hope we didn’t intrude.” “Not at all. You have a safe trip now.”

“WELL, THAT WASN’T very useful,” Nick grumbled, as he turned the key in the ignition. “Maybe we should turn your fucking vampire loose on old Anna, after all.” “No need,” Cyn said absently, pulling the phone from her purse. “I don’t know the range on this thing, so take your time.” Nick barked a surprised laugh. “Look at you, little Miss Petty Thief,” he said, while taking way too much time to turn the Escalade around and get it heading slowly back down the driveway. While he did that, Cyn scrolled through the directory, looking for Gary Junior’s number. They already knew he’d been living with his parents since returning from Hawaii, so she assumed any number she found would be his cell. She wasn’t surprised, however, to discover the number listed straightforwardly as “Junior’s Cell.” Everything about Anna Briley had said neat and organized. She wouldn’t take half-measures with something like a phone ID. Thumbing the number into her own cell phone, Cyn started on the call log, tsking to discover Anna had lied about talking to her baby boy. There were daily calls both to and from Gary’s cell, which told her everything she needed to know. If she’d had the time, she’d have used Anna’s phone to call Gary and get a location on the phone, but her time was up. The phone’s screen went blank when they were still thirty feet from the end of the driveway. “Do you—” Nick started to ask, but she interrupted. “I’ve got his cell, and it’s active. They’ve spoken every day, sometimes more than once.” “Well, at least we know he’s not dead yet. You going to toss that here?” he

asked, stopping to signal like a good citizen before turning onto the highway in a direction that took them away from the city. “No,” Cyn said shortly, punching more numbers into her phone, ones that she’d memorized before the cordless handset lost its signal. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, or she’d lose the memory. The numbers included Gary Senior’s office number, along with two other numbers that appeared even more often on Anna’s phone than Gary’s cell number did. One was an Alicia Briley, who Cyn figured must be one of Gary’s two sisters. She’d noted a family portrait in the house that told her Anna and Gary had three children—one son and two daughters. The third number she’d memorized was for Belinda Stone, but she figured Belinda was Gary’s married sister, the one who’d produced the grandchildren who would soon be coming home to Grandma and providing a nice distraction. With any luck, the missing handset wouldn’t be noticed for several hours. “Problem?” Nick asked. “No, I just had to get those numbers entered before I forgot.” She finished storing the final number, then removed the battery from the handset and shoved both pieces back into her purse. “I’ll destroy those once I get back to the plane. Hopefully, the Brileys will assume one of the grandkids put it in the garbage or something.” “Blame the kids, huh?” “They won’t care. Where are we going?” she asked, looking around, then twisting to look behind them at the distant buildings of Lawrence. “This is just in case Anna was watching. I’m pretty sure she bought our story, but we’re supposed to be in a hurry to make the Colorado border tonight, and that’s this way.” “Oh,” she said, letting her surprise show. “Good thinking.” “Gee thanks, Cyn,” he responded dryly. “So what’s our next move, oh wise one?” “I’m going to ping Gary’s cell and get a location. But I need my equipment for that.”

“Back to the airport, then.” “Right,” she agreed. She didn’t mention that it was the Kansas City airport she needed to get to.

NICK DROVE BACK to the airport, stealing the occasional sideways glance at Cyn. She was on her cell phone, not talking, but scrolling and typing. She couldn’t be talking to Raphael, so maybe she was ing one of her sources, or checking in with the vampire’s daylight security people. He was more than a little surprised that she’d been allowed to go off with him alone this afternoon. Although, for all his teasing about Raphael controlling her every movement, he knew her better than to think the vampire or anyone else could dictate to her. Satisfying his curiosity over Cyn’s relationship with the vampire was one of the side benefits of being here. He rarely was out in the field like this, hunting down artifacts. He had people for this sort of thing. But he had a special interest in the manacles, one that he didn’t intend to share. He would have tracked them down regardless, but he hadn’t been able to resist calling Cyn on her promise from Hawaii. Unfortunately, the vampire had come along, too. He didn’t know what Raphael had told her about the history between sorcerers and vampires, but he knew it couldn’t be good. Raphael hadn’t been alive back then, so whatever he knew would be based on hearsay and stories told over the centuries, some of which would likely even be true. Any way you looked at it, theirs was a bloody history, and he’d played his part in it. But there had been brutality on both sides, and he suspected that part hadn’t been included in the vampires’ retelling of those events. Still, it grated on him that Cyn would know only the vampires’ one-sided version. “So what did the vampire tell you about me?” Cyn looked over at him, shaking her head. “His name is Raphael, and he said only that it was a bloody time, and that you were there.” “I’m sure his presented me in a good light,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “I don’t know that person, Nick, the one you were all that time ago. I only know you. Or I thought I did.”

“You do know me, Cyn. I’m not the man I was then.” “No, but you’re not the man I thought you were, either. So who are you? Are you even human?” He laughed. “I certainly am. My parents were both as human as you. I just happened to be born with a unique talent, one that was rare all those millennia ago and is nearly extinct now.” “Sorcery,” she said. “To put it simply, yes. Some children can sing or paint, others are brilliant or beautiful. I can work magic.” “I still have trouble with that. The whole idea that magic exists.” “And yet, you have a vampire lover.” “Right,” she said softly. “Raphael.” He hated the way she said the vampire’s name. There was so much emotion in that single word. “How old are you, Nick?” she asked. “Even Raphael didn’t know.” “What a shock. Something the great Raphael doesn’t know.” She shook her head and looked away. “Why do you care?” he asked. “About you?” she said, turning back to give him a surprised look. “Because I love you. Because we’re friends.” Nick felt a sudden warmth in his chest at her declaration. He knew she didn’t love him the way she did the vampire. But then, what she’d said before had been true; they’d never had that kind of connection. They’d been friends, sure. And lovers, too, but only casually. “Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know exactly how old I am. I was born so long ago that there’s no human record of my time.”

She was quiet for a moment and then asked, “What’s it like to live for so long? Don’t you get . . . tired of life?” “It’s a little more complicated than that. I haven’t exactly lived all of those years.” She frowned. “You mean you’ve been in some sort of sleep? Under a spell or something?” Nick had circled back toward the airport and now turned down the side road that would take them to the private hangar which housed Raphael’s Learjet. “A spell was cast,” he agreed. “But the intent was not to put me to sleep. It was far more malicious than that. You see, sorcerers are a competitive lot, and we don’t like to share. I can say with no exaggeration that I was one of the preeminent sorcerers of my time. Only one other even came close to my level of power. His name was Sotiris, and we hated each other with a ion that knew no reason. We were constantly at war, forever sending our human armies out to fight and die in our names.” Nick didn’t know why he was telling her this. He’d never even been tempted to tell anyone before. Maybe he was just tired of being alone, tired of being the only being alive who knew who he was and what drove him to the choices he’d made. He pulled to a stop in front of the hangar, leaving the engine running. “I had a great army,” he said, staring into the middle distance, as if he could conjure up the images of that fateful day. “I was their general, their god, and they believed in me . . . in my leadership and my cause—even though that cause was nothing more than the defeat of Sotiris. We were on the verge of victory, when my enemy acted.” “What did he do?” Cyn asked, and he could hear the trepidation in her voice. She wanted to know, but she was afraid of the answer. “My army numbered in the thousands, but they were strangers to me for the most part. My inner circle—four great warriors whom I’d called from the far corners of the earth—they were the ones who planned and fought by my side, the ones I fought for. Their lives meant as much to me as my own. Sotiris

understood this. He knew what their loss would mean to me.” “No,” she breathed. “There was a traitor among us. I don’t know what Sotiris promised him to betray us, but I know what his final reward was for his treachery, because I hunted him down and delivered that reward myself. He screamed for days, begging for death before I finally released him, and still, it wasn’t punishment enough for what he’d done.” “What happened to your men?” He looked over at her. “My men,” he said thoughtfully. “My brothers in every way that counted. Sotiris cast a great spell. It must have taken weeks to plot, to lay all of the elements in place, but it took only seconds to cast. My men were shaped in stone and hurled into the sands of time, leaving me with no way to know where or when they’d gone. I searched for months, using every bit of magic at my disposal, but I found nothing. Finally, in desperation, I used elements of Sotiris’s own spell and cast it upon myself, thinking it would bring me closer to wherever my lost brothers had ended up.” He shook his head. “That was more than two thousand years ago, and I’ve spent every day since then searching, following the slightest clues, and still I’ve found nothing. Not a trace.” Cyn studied him for a moment. “You said you have a team of hunters.” “Strictly speaking, my hunters are not mine. They’re employed by your FBI, but they report only to me. Their job is to locate and recover dangerous magical artifacts.” “The FBI believes in magic?” He chuckled cynically. “The FBI believes in control, especially of things they cannot understand.” “I have a feeling your FBI hunters are searching for more than magical artifacts.” Nick smiled. He wondered again if the vampire appreciated what he had in Cyn. “None of them know the entire truth of it,” he itted. “I’ve never told anyone

else what I just told you. But my hunters do know that I’m particularly interested in unusual statuary, anything that gives off a magical buzz.” “Your people are all over the world?” He shook his head. “There aren’t that many of them. The ability to detect magic is rare, and most of the people who possess it don’t even know what they have. You, for instance.” “So you say.” He chuckled again. “You always were stubborn. Ask your vampire. He knows I’m right.” She scowled. “How do you find people to work for you?” “For the most part, they come in through the regular FBI intake process. Agentsin-training are given any number of tests, including one that measures magical sensitivity, though it’s not called that, of course. Those few who test positive are screened more extensively, and then referred to me. I take the best of the best for my team.” “How many?” “It varies. Right now, I have a dozen agents, all based in the US, but their searches take them all over the world.” She studied him for a moment. “I’m sorry, Nick.” He sighed. “I’ll find them someday. I won’t stop until I do. I think if I could only find one of them, the others would be easier. There’d be a trace of the spell Sotiris cast, enough to enhance my search efforts.” “Where do the manacles fit in?” “The Amber Manacles. A nasty little bit of magic created by a long-ago sorcerer with more arrogance than talent.” “Are they something the FBI wants?”

“The FBI has no claim on the artifacts my team locates.” “But you said—” “I said my team were employed by the FBI, but I’m not. And the FBI is no more qualified to protect those magical items than the average man on the street. The artifacts become part of my collection, secured at my home, by my magic.” “Where is your home?” “You already know that, Cyn.” “I know what you told me, but nothing else was true, so—” “It’s Florida. Pompano Beach. You should come visit my collection sometime. But leave the vampire behind.” She shook her head in disgust. “That’s going to get really old by the time we finish this.” Nick gave her his most charming grin. “I told you not to bring him.” She groaned and opened the SUV’s door, then seemed to this was her vehicle. “Get out of my truck,” she muttered. She reached over and snatched the keys from the ignition, as if worried he’d drive away without her, then slid from the vehicle and walked around to the driver’s side door. Nick stepped out to meet her. “You’ll call later?” She nodded. “As soon as I have something. If Briley’s phone is on, it’ll be fast. If not, I’ll have to wait until he turns it on to call home, which shouldn’t be long since he’s talked to his mom every day this week. Either way, I’ll call you as soon as I get a ping.” Nick nodded, then looked up as the distinct sound of his Ferrari announced the car’s arrival, driven by what he assumed was one of Raphael’s daylight guards. The man eyed him steadily as he climbed from the car, not displaying even the tiniest sign of appreciation for the fine motorcar he’d just had the privilege of driving, even for a short distance.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” he told Cyn. “Patience isn’t my strong suit.” She made a face. “I .” He laughed. “Don’t tell the vampire that.” Then he climbed into his car and drove away, giving her a wave through the open window.

CYN SMILED AND lifted her hand to wave back at Nick, but inside, she ached with sadness. She couldn’t believe she’d known him all this time, without really knowing him. He’d never even hinted at the tragedy that had shaped almost his entire life. She’d wanted to hug him, to tell him he wasn’t alone, but there was Raphael to consider. For all that he trusted her, he wouldn’t be happy if she hugged Nick, no matter what sentiment drove it. And he would know. Mostly because she’d tell him up front, but also because he was probably following her in his dreams while he slept. He could do that if he was really determined, especially if she was in danger. Today’s outing hadn’t been terribly dangerous, but just being with Nick would be danger enough for Raphael. That also meant that he’d know everything Nick had just told her. She wondered if Nick knew enough about vampires to understand that. Although, to be fair, Raphael’s ability to follow her in daytime was unusual, even among vampire lords. She sighed and climbed into the driver’s seat of the Escalade. She had a long drive back to Kansas City ahead of her, and at the end of it, she’d have work to do. But, most important of all, she needed to be there when her vampire woke for the night.

Chapter Four

CYN WAVED A greeting to Steve Sipes, who headed up Raphael’s daylight security team. Whether they were home on the estate or traveling, Steve was an important part of Raphael’s close-in security team, and she trusted him completely. She nodded at the two guards stationed at the foot of the stairs, then made her way quickly up and into the jet. The heavy door at the top was closed, but by now, she was an old hand at opening those things. The guards would have been happy to help, but she was the only one allowed up the stairs. Steve was an exception to the rule, but only in an emergency. And if the emergency was severe enough, like if the plane was on fire or something, Steve had discretion to bring his team all the way on board. That alone was the measure of Raphael’s trust in him. But there was no emergency this afternoon, so Cyn was alone as she closed the hatch behind her and made her way down the quiet aisle. Most of Raphael’s vampires slept in the special temporary quarters set up for them in the hangar itself, but a few slept on board the plane. She and Raphael had a private bedroom, while the others shared a windowless sleeping chamber to one side of the aircraft that doubled as a seating area at night. No one liked to sleep on the plane, but sometimes it was necessary, and it was as comfortable as money and ingenuity could make it. She let herself into their dimly lit bedroom. There were no windows back here at all, so no danger of any sunlight intruding, but there was a dim lamp burning on her side of the bed. Raphael needed that light too when he first rose. Vampires had remarkable night vision, but even they needed a little bit of light to see by. Going right to the small, utilitarian desk, she booted up both of the computers she had there and entered everything she had on Gary Briley, Jr. One system was put to work on an in-depth search, casting a wide net for just about anything her searchbots could find, while the other began tracking his cell phone, digging up all activity for the last month. Not only where he’d been, but calls made and received. That particular search was quite illegal, just as it was illegal for her to

have access to those phone records at all, but there were vampires occupying sensitive positions all over the United States, including inside the various phone companies, and their loyalties were unhindered by human law. Rather than sit and watch the screens, she stripped off her clothes and hung them neatly in the tiny closet, all the while wishing she were back home in Malibu. She knew she shouldn’t complain—the bedroom in this 707 was as elegant as one could make it. But it was still an airplane, which meant she had to make do with limited space and, even worse, nothing but a quick, warm shower. This was Cyn’s definition of camping. No long, hot pummeling of water, no soothing session in a deep soaker tub . . . no room service, either. Although Raphael would certainly be having room service when he woke up, she thought grumpily. She could have used the relaxation of a hot shower about now. Between the lack of sleep necessary to Nick for his visit to Mrs. Briley and remaining awake all night with Raphael—not to mention the high stress levels of dealing with the hostility between the two men—she was worn out. Raphael had promised her a vacation after Hawaii, which seemed counterintuitive, now that she thought about it. Most people took vacations in Hawaii. But, regardless, she’d accepted that there wouldn’t be any vacations until the European invasion had been completely defeated, and there was no end in sight to that. Not that she could see. In fact, she was deathly worried about her friend Colin, who was mated to Sophia, the vampire lord who ruled over all of Canada. Sophia had finally reached out to consult with Raphael, and he’d brought Aden into the conversation, since his territory was one of those bordering Canada. Colin was missing, and while Cyn knew his fate was in good hands, she still wished she could be looking for him herself. She was worried. Unfortunately, Raphael didn’t have the luxury of dealing with one crisis at a time. Any of the eight North American lords could stand against the European invasion, singly or together. But only she and Raphael could deal with Nick. They’d made a promise and had to make good on it. Not to mention the fact that the manacles were extremely dangerous and could very well come back and bite them in the ass someday if they didn’t deal with it now. She walked out of the bathroom, still toweling off as she sat down in front of her computer. The detailed search she’d set up on Gary Briley, Jr. and his family was still digging away, but the results she had so far didn’t add much to what Nick had already told her. The phone search was more interesting, however. Gary, Jr.,

it seemed, was on the move. Running scared, maybe? But from whom? His buyer? The auction where he’d sold the manacles was a darknet site. She didn’t do much on the darknet, but she knew the basics. It overlaid the Internet, using specific software and protocols to limit participation to only those who were invited. Nick seemed to be more familiar with it than she was—big surprise there—so she was leaving that part of the search up to him. But she didn’t need details to know that the kind of person who would buy something like the manacles—the kind who, first of all, would even know such a thing existed and, secondly, where to find it—might be someone to avoid. Maybe Gary, Jr. had bit off more than he could chew. Maybe his buyer wanted to be sure no one could track the manacles back to him, and Gary, Jr. had become a liability. Deciding the computers could work without her for a while, she draped the towel on the rack in the bathroom, then crossed the compact room and slid beneath the sheets next to Raphael, resting her head on the solid muscle of his shoulder, draping one leg over his hip. Even in daylight sleep, he was still a presence. It was as if he was simply too much in the world for something as ordinary as sleep to stifle his energy. She curled her arm over his chest and breathed deeply for what felt like the first time in hours. She was never more at peace than when she was with him. Closing her eyes, she drifted almost immediately into a deep sleep. She woke a few hours later when the familiar weight of Raphael’s arm dropped over her back, and his deep voice rumbled in her ear, “You showered.” “Of course, I showered,” she muttered grumpily. “The last thing I need is you sniffing and licking me all over, trying to get rid of the smell of sorcerer.” He chuckled, low and deep. “You’re in a mood,” he said, then rolled over, tucking her beneath him before leaning down to trail his tongue over her neck. “You don’t like my tongue on you?” Cyn flexed hard, shoving him onto his back as she followed, ending up with her legs straddling his hips. “I love everything you do with your tongue,” she murmured, leaning over to brush her breasts against his chest as she licked his mouth, tangling her tongue briefly with his in a hard kiss. “But I have better uses for it than licking imaginary sorcerer taint off my skin.” She bit his lower lip, then let him pull her into a longer kiss, his fingers digging into her hips as she rocked back and forth on top of him. His cock was already hard beneath her, a

firm ridge over his belly as she ground against him. Raphael growled, his fingers tightening as his hands moved down to cup her ass. She could feel his muscles bunching, ready to throw her onto the bed and take her, could read the determination in his dark eyes as he watched her from beneath half-lowered eyelids, his gaze unwavering, like a predator watching its prey. Cyn gave him a wicked grin. “Unh uh. This is my turn,” she taunted, then slid down his body, her hard nipples scraping over his chest and belly, before she squeezed her breasts together to cradle the length of his erection as she slid down even further, her bare pussy wet against his firm thigh, her hair slipping over his groin when she finally took him in her mouth. Raphael hissed his pleasure, his strong fingers twisting in her hair, tugging until she could feel the burn in her scalp. She twirled her tongue around the tip of his shaft, lifting her gaze to find him staring down at her, not meeting her eyes, but staring at her lips as they surrounded his hard cock, watching the wet slide of her mouth up and down. Gripping him at the base, she squeezed his thickness, while she teased the swollen tip, gliding her tongue around and down, licking up the drop of pre-cum. Sucking hard, she took him fully into her mouth, her fingers sliding down to cup his balls as she stroked her tongue along the sensitive underside of his penis, from base to tip, and then again, letting him feel the press of her teeth before sucking him deep into her throat. Raphael’s muscles clenched, fighting the urge to take control, to force her to swallow his cock while he thrust hard and deep. Cyn took him as far as she could, humming her pleasure at the taste of his satin skin, the iron thickness of his erection, knowing the sound would vibrate along the sensitive nerves of his cock, thrumming over his wet skin. She rolled her eyes up to look at him again, meeting his hungry stare. “Cyn,” he growled in warning, and she knew her time was limited. Raphael was as alpha a male as she’d ever known, willing to surrender to her for only so long before he was driven to seize control. Her fingers tightened around the base of his cock as she swallowed, taking more of him until her lips met her fingers. Then she swallowed again, sliding him deep into her throat as he threw his head back and groaned. She held him there, filling

her throat, caressing his length as she swallowed over and over again, his muscles turning to rock beneath her. She waited as long as she could, until she ran out of air, and then she released him, forcing herself to go slowly, sucking and licking as she lifted her head, her cheeks hollowing out as she worked his length in and out of her mouth. His balls tightened in the cup of her fingers, his cock swelled between her lips, and she knew he was close to coming. She wanted the heat and taste of him, wanted to revel in the knowledge that she could break that rigid control of his, could make him lose it entirely. But this was Raphael. With a growled curse, he pulled her off of his cock and flipped her to her back, shoving her knees to her chest and spreading her thighs as he drove his hips forward, slamming his cock into her soaking wet pussy, pistoning in and out with absolute focus. His eyes gleamed silver in the low light, his fangs bared in a thrilling snarl of heat and hunger. The sight of him thrusting above her nearly made her come, but she held out. Not yet, not yet. She moaned a hunger of her own, nails digging into his powerful biceps, feeling his muscles flex every time he pumped his cock deep inside her and dragged it back out again. He leaned forward without breaking the rhythm of his thrusts, and shoved his face into the curve of her neck, his tongue rasping over her sweat-dampened skin in a sensuous glide from her throat to her ear until his lips closed over her jugular vein and pulled gently, toying with her, knowing what she wanted. Rumbling a wordless curse, he struck without warning, his fangs slicing through her skin and into her vein. She cried out in pain even as the euphoric in his bite shot into her veins in a searing flood of heat and desire. The orgasm crashed over her in a rush of unimaginable sensation, her pussy clenching around his cock, her abdominal muscles contracting so hard it hurt. Blood ran down his arms as her nails dug in, as he kept sucking her vein, kept driving his cock into her body as the orgasm consumed her. Cyn bit her tongue to keep from screaming, agonizingly aware, as her own blood filled her mouth, of the many sensitive vampire ears far too close. Raphael drew in a noisy breath, his nostrils flaring against her skin as he scented the fresh blood. He lifted his head, tonguing away the wound in her neck as he kept fucking her, licking his way up to her mouth and closing his lips over hers as he

drank in the blood from her damaged tongue. He came suddenly and hard, and Cyn swallowed the groan of his climax as his cock bucked inside her, his release filling her with warm, wet jets of cum. Raphael collapsed finally, his full weight coming down on her as she stretched her legs wide, and then wrapped them around his hips. He licked the inside of her mouth lazily, gathering up the last bit of blood from her injured tongue with slow, soft sweeps, before lifting his head to murmur sweet words of Russian against her lips. Then he pressed his mouth against hers in a kiss that lasted long enough that his still-firm cock reacted deep inside her. She raised her arms to circle his neck, and he rolled them over, his cock pulling out as he tucked her tight against his side. She flung a leg over his hip, her pussy wet against the searing heat of his skin. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Words weren’t necessary. The two of them were connected, by blood or magic or whatever anyone wanted to call it. She and Raphael beat with one heart, dreamed with one soul. They lay that way until the sounds all around them intruded. The gentle bounce of the plane as his vampires woke, the voices, human and vampire, as his team transitioned from day to night. “Are we leaving this place?” he asked finally. And Cyn knew what he was asking. He wanted to know what she and Nick had discovered. Had they found their missing guard or, even better, the buyer of the cursed manacles? And how long before they could finish this task and go home to Malibu? “I need to check my computers,” she said lazily, her voice still thick with sated desire. Raphael chuckled, a sound full of male satisfaction. To the world at large, he was a powerful vampire lord, someone to respect and fear. But in bed, he was just a guy. A guy with uncommon sexual skills to be sure, but still a guy who took smug pride in having his woman draped over his body, her pussy still pulsing with leftover tremors from the climax he’d given her, her voice heavy with delicious contentment. She stroked her hand down over his ridged abdomen, past his flat belly, and circled his cock with her fingers. He stiffened almost instantly, in every way, and she gave her own version of a satisfied chuckle.

Raphael slapped her ass. “Behave or we’ll be here all night.” “Would that be a bad thing?” “Only because I want to put this ordeal behind us.” “Hmmm. Point taken,” she agreed. She permitted herself a final stroke of his very fine cock, and then patted his belly and sat up. “I, um, borrowed Gary’s mom’s phone while we were at the house and kept it long enough to get a few phone numbers. We should have a location by now, and maybe more.” She slid from the bed as Raphael’s fingers trailed over her ass, teasing between her cheeks. “Now who’s not behaving,” she scolded, then turned away with a grin and crossed the short distance to where her computers were still hard at work. She detoured to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to sit on, keenly aware of the sticky wetness between her thighs. No complaints. Sitting in front of her computers, she saw that while they were both humming along, the hard work had already been done. Her search bot was still scouring the ether looking for tidbits of info on Gary, Jr., but it had already found most of what was out there. Her other system, meanwhile, was now locked onto his cell phone, which had been pinging off the same cell tower for the last twenty-four hours. Gary, Jr. might be a great soldier—she didn’t know either way—but he wasn’t all that good at hiding out. Or maybe they were wrong, and he wasn’t hiding at all. Maybe he was taking a nice spa vacation, celebrating his ill-gotten windfall from the manacles. “We’ve got Gary, Jr.,” she said over her shoulder. “Who the fuck is Gary, Jr.?” Raphael rumbled from right behind her. Sneaky vampire. She forced herself not to react. “Gary Briley, Jr.,” she told him. “The guy who snagged the manacles, and who, we’re now pretty sure, has sold them.” Raphael lifted her bodily from the chair and sat down so he could see the computer screens. “Sold them to whom?” he asked, ignoring her outraged stare. “They’d have no real value unless the buyer knew what they were.” “Exactly,” she agreed, then silently picked up the laptop and walked back to sit

on the bed. Raphael grinned and ed her on the bed, bumping hips as he sat down. She elbowed some room for herself, then continued. “The manacles were offered at auction on a darknet site. Transactions are private, but we know that the manacles’ listing was pulled, which suggests they were sold already. That means Briley must have seen the buyer at least briefly for the exchange of money and goods.” He studied the screen. “You’re using his cell phone to locate him. But how do you know he’s with his phone? Maybe someone else is using it.” “Ah, but Junior is a momma’s boy. He calls home every day like clockwork. Sometimes more than once. And Mom’s calling him back, too.” “Let’s go get him then.” He stood. “You can shower while I shave.” Normally they’d shower together, but the plane’s stall wasn’t big enough for their usual shower time activities. “Okay.” She reached over and snagged her phone from the bedside. “Let me call Nick—” She managed to bring up Nick’s number, but didn’t get any further before Raphael snatched the phone from her hand. “Why do we need him?” “Because we’re working this together,” she said patiently. “And because he knows more about these magical manacles than we do. Unless you’re holding out on me?” His lip curled in disgust, but he hit the call button on her phone. She reached for the phone, but managed only to tap the speaker button before he yanked it away. “Raphael,” she said impatiently. “Cyn baby.” Nick’s cheerful voice came over the speaker. “Are you ready to run away with me?” “Don’t push your luck, sorcerer,” Raphael growled.

“Oh. It’s you. Where’s Cyn?” “I’m right here,” she called, ignoring Raphael’s glare. “I’ve locked onto Gary Briley’s location. He’s a couple of towns over, and my guess is that he’s living at a motel and spending most of his time at the same one or two establishments. Restaurants probably, given the time pattern.” “You discovered all of that from a cell phone?” “Gary’s not exactly going to be winning his Boy Scout badge for covert action. He’s obviously homesick, calling his mom a few times a day, and even his dad once or twice.” “I have to say, I’m deeply dismayed to discover that Anna Briley lied to us,” Nick said with false sincerity. “Well, he’s her baby boy. I’ve heard that mothers do that.” “I wouldn’t know,” he muttered. “Yeah? Well, neither would I,” she agreed. “Is there any—” “We’re leaving within the hour,” Raphael interrupted. “You can meet us there.” Cyn opened her mouth to argue that they should all go together, but the words died unsaid. First, because she and Raphael were in Kansas City, not in Lawrence as Nick had been led to believe. But second, and more importantly, because Raphael was giving her a death glare that promised all sorts of retribution if she made the offer. She supposed he had a point. And besides, sharing a ride with Raphael and Nick would be sheer hell. She’d end up getting out of the vehicle and walking, while the two of them went their merry way together. “I’ll text you the location, Nick,” she said instead. “It’s a small town, so you might want to think about renting a different car for the trip. Something that will blend in.” “Oh right, because the vampire and his blacked-out SUV convoy is low key,” Nick scoffed.

“Don’t worry,” he added, before she could say anything. “I’ll blend, and I’ll see you there.” “Okay, I’m sending—” But Nick was gone. Raphael tossed her phone on the bed and grabbed her wrist, tugging her into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, letting it heat up. “There’s not enough hot water,” he snapped. “We’ll have to share.” “Raphael, there’s no room.” “There’s enough,” he growled and stepped into the stall, pulling her in after him. Once they were in, though, he started laughing. He couldn’t even close the damn door all the way. Cyn was slender enough, but Raphael was a very big guy. They could barely move, and with the hot water filling the small cubicle with steam, it was like groping in a sauna. “I told you,” she said with a grin. Raphael didn’t laugh like that very often. He rested his forehead against hers. “I hate it when you talk to him.” “I know. But I don’t know why. I’m yours, fang boy. You’re stuck with me.” “My heart knows that, but my gut wants to kill every man who’s ever touched you.” “Aw, that’s romantic . . . in a creepy, stalkerish sort of way.” His hand moved behind her, and he swore. “Fuck, there isn’t even enough room in here to slap your ass properly.” He shoved the shower door all the way open and stepped out of the stall. “You shower, I’ll shave.” “In other words, back to the original plan.” “You know, you and your ass will eventually have to leave that cramped shower stall.” Cyn shivered dramatically. “I’m so scared.” Raphael shut the shower door with a muttered, “Smartass.”

Chapter Five

NICK MADE A right turn into the coffee shop parking lot, but not before double-checking the in-dash GPS to be sure he’d entered the address correctly. Cyn hadn’t told him where they were meeting. She’d just texted an address in a town about sixty miles northwest of Lawrence. He’d assumed it would be some shadowy motel parking lot, though he didn’t know why, since a coffee shop made more sense. The last thing they wanted to do was spook Gary Briley into running. Or at least trying to run. Nick was pretty sure that between him and Raphael, they could stop the murdering little weasel from getting away. But it was the fact that Raphael was part of the night’s festivities that made the coffee shop so unlikely. As far as Nick knew, vamps didn’t drink coffee, and they sure as hell didn’t eat pie. He parked the boring mid-sized SUV that he’d rented in an effort to blend in. He understood now why the vampire had gone with the big Escalade SUVs for his regular transport. At least they had some flash and powerful engines, while he’d been reduced to a mere six cylinders and cloth seats. He didn’t bother to lock the doors when he got out. Maybe someone would steal it, and he could ride back to Lawrence in one of the vampire’s SUVs, which were parked side by side at the back of the lot. Three of them. Talk about overkill. A little bell on the coffee shop door dinged, announcing his presence. The restaurant was crowded, and it seemed like every person turned to look at him, their gazes lingering suspiciously when they realized he wasn’t one of them. In more ways that you know, he thought smugly and made his way to a couple of booths in the back corner, which were occupied by several suspiciously large men and one stunningly attractive woman. “Cyn darling,” he said, ignoring everyone else as he slid onto the empty bench seat opposite her and Raphael. She just rolled her eyes and took a bite of her toast, while the vampire flexed his shoulders, drawing attention to the fact that it was his arm that was draped over the seat behind her. “Casual Friday all around,

I see,” Nick commented. Much like himself, Raphael was wearing jeans. But while he’d paired his with a long-sleeved cashmere sweater, the vamp had on a leather jacket over a plain T-shirt. His bodyguards were similarly dressed—all four of them, which, given the three SUVs, meant some of vamps had remained on watch outside. “You see that motel across the street?” Cyn asked, not bothering with the niceties. Nick glanced casually out the window. It was a pretty standard American motel —two stories in an L-shape around a parking lot, open walkways with all of the rooms facing out. A blue neon sign announced MOTEL, with a smaller red VACANCY below that. “I’m assuming that’s where our boy is spending his nights,” he said, signaling the waitress for coffee. “And this is one of his favorite restaurants,” Cyn told him. “Ah. Don’t you think he might be suspicious if he waltzes in here and sees that?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the bodyguards, who weren’t even pretending not to pay attention. “Give me some credit,” she said dismissively. “This is his breakfast spot. He likes junk food for dinner.” “Okay, Nancy Drew, this is your show. What’s the plan?” “He’s in his room. We watched him come back just a few minutes ago. So, I’m going to walk over there and knock on his door.” Nick blinked, his gaze shifting to Raphael. He waited for a reaction, for the vampire to shoot down the idea of Cyn exposing herself to danger like that. But there was nothing. The guy seemed perfectly okay with it. “What if he has a gun?” She shrugged while she took a bite of scrambled eggs and swallowed. “He probably does, but why would he shoot me? I’m a pretty woman who’s locked herself out of her room and wants to use his phone.”

“Why wouldn’t this woman go to the motel office instead?” She winked. “Because the night manager takes his dinner break in just about ten minutes. He’ll be gone an hour.” “How do you know that?” “The manager told me when I checked in. He was very helpful, offering to fix anything that was wrong with the room, too.” “I bet he did. Okay, so you’re in the room with Briley. Then what?” “Well, then I disarm him . . . literally . . . and open the door to you guys.” “You vamps need an invite?” he asked Raphael. It was Cyn who answered, shaking her head. “Not necessary. A motel’s like a public place.” “Do I have time for a piece of pie?” Nick asked, smiling up at the waitress when she delivered his coffee. “Sure,” Cyn said, finishing off a breakfast that belied her model-like figure. “Knock yourself out.” “You want anything else, hon?” the waitress asked Cyn. “More coffee?” “Coffee would be great,” she said, with a smile. “And maybe one of those chocolate cupcakes.” “You got it. And what about you, handsome?” Nick grinned. “I’ll have the boysenberry pie,” he told the waitress. “And a scoop of ice cream. Chocolate, if you have it.” “Sure thing.” Nick waited until the woman was gone. “My sources tell me the manacles were indeed sold. They’re trying to dig out the name of the buyer, but no luck yet.” “Briley will know, though, right?” Cyn asked. “You wouldn’t ship something

like that with FedEx. It would have to be delivered in person.” “I’d agree with you, but Briley’s a novice. Who knows what arrangements he’s made.” “Yeah, but he’s hiding from someone. Otherwise he’d be home with his mommy. That tells me he knows his buyer, or at least knows enough about him to be afraid. I want whatever he knows.” Nick contemplated that idea. “There are a handful of collectors who’d know enough about the manacles to want them for themselves. Most are human, though there is one other sorcerer operating in North America right now.” “One,” Cyn said, giving him a puzzled look. “You mean there are only two of you on the entire continent?” He shrugged. “Two of us who have enough power to matter. I told you, we’re rare birds.” Raphael made a quiet scoffing noise, so quiet that Nick almost missed it. “You have something to say, vampire?” The vampire lord gave him a smug look and opened his mouth, clearing intending to say something snarky, but then Cyn shifted slightly in her seat and did something that changed his mind. He tugged the back of her hair and said, “Even if Briley has a name, it’s mostly likely false. The buyer will have used a pseudonym.” “True, but as long as Briley can describe him, I’ll know who he is. It’s a small community.” The waitress returned at that moment with his pie and Cyn’s cupcake, along with a carafe of coffee. She freshened all three cups—Raphael had a cup in front of him that was half-empty, though Nick hadn’t seen him drink from it. Once she was gone, Nick pulled over the packets of sugar and doctored his coffee. He’d just dug his fork into the pie, when the sound of Raphael’s chuckle startled him into looking up. The vampire was grinning as he watched Cyn eat her chocolate cupcake. She was being all proper, using a fork, but with every

bite, she was making a little yummy noise that reminded him of other times and other nights. Nick coughed and took a sip of coffee to distract himself, forcing his thoughts to things that had nothing to do with cupcakes or that sound she was making. Instinct had him glancing up to find the vampire eyeing him suspiciously. Nick was sorely tempted to do something foolish. To give the big bad vamp a lascivious wink, or to grin knowingly. But common sense prevailed. It would have been great fun to taunt Raphael into coming after him, to find out once and for all who really was the stronger of the two of them. But there were too many civilians around, and, besides, they had other business tonight. Damn it. “Good coffee,” he said instead and focused his attention on the truly excellent boysenberry pie. “We should move before our boy changes his routine and goes out for the evening,” Cyn said, pushing her plate away. “We’ll leave the vehicles here. The noise of them arriving might make him look out the window.” “The sorcerer can play guard while he finishes his pie,” Raphael said dryly. Nick laughed. “In your dreams, vampire. I’m the only one who knows the buyers well enough to tell if Briley is lying to us.” Raphael snorted dismissively. “I’ll know if he’s lying.” Nick wanted to punch the arrogant asshole in the face. He was halfway out of the booth when Cyn interrupted. “Yeah, okay,” she said impatiently. “Raphael, let me out. I’m going over there to take care of business. You two can rumble in the parking lot. Maybe find a good soundtrack and turn on the stereo real loud.” She didn’t wait for a response, but got up quickly once Raphael stood to let her out. Tugging at her jacket to be sure the Glock in its shoulder holster was covered, she strode out of the coffee shop. Nick expected the vampire to storm after her, but he simply stood there watching her walk away, with a bemused little smile on his face, half dopey love and half pride. Nick couldn’t decide if he still wanted to punch the bastard, or if he needed to vomit instead. “Are you going to let her go over there by herself?” he asked.

The vampire cut his eyes to Nick with a sneering look. “My Cyn is not your concern.” “Her safety on this mission in just as much my concern as yours.” “Jeez, you two—” A female vamp with white-blond hair whom Nick hadn’t noticed when he walked in spun away from the counter, giving the two of them a disgusted glance. “—get a room.” She didn’t look back as she followed Cyn from the restaurant. Raphael laughed, surprising Nick yet again. He’d dealt with plenty of powerful vampires in his long life, and he’d found them to be generally humorless, especially when it came to underlings. He’d have expected Raphael to slap the vamp down for daring to make any comment, much less one that snarky. Behind them, the rest of the vampire guards were sliding out of their booth with much creaking of leather jackets and clunking of heavy boots. One of them counted out some bills and dropped them on the table, and then they all waited for Raphael to decide what to do. The vampire jerked his head and started for the door, walking past Nick without so much as a glance. The guards followed, although they paid him a lot more attention. He knew how vamps worked. Those guards were all Raphael’s children—they’d lay down their lives for him in an instant. Nick sighed. Those damn manacles. He hadn’t even told Cyn how important they were to him. Not the whole truth anyway. But he’d have put up with a hell of a lot more than vampires to get them back. Hell, if it had been only Cyn he was dealing with, he might even have enjoyed this little adventure. But the fucking vampire was a pain in the ass, and so were all of his damn children. He sighed again, knowing he had to see this through, but also acknowledging to himself the real reason he’d called Cyn to help him out. He hadn’t honestly needed her help, but he was lonely. For the first time in his long life, he actually longed for human companionship. All those centuries ago, he’d never needed anyone but his brothers-in-arms, his warriors who lived as fiercely as they fought. The five of them had been inseparable, drinking and fucking and fighting. And when he’d lost them, when they’d been ripped from his side, it had left an open wound in his soul, a bloody hole in his heart. And no one else had filled even a tiny part of that void for a long time.

But then he’d met Cyn. He’d caught sight of her across the room at one of LA’s trendy clubs, and all he’d seen was a beautiful woman that he wanted to fuck. Until he’d actually met her, and she’d been so much more than a fuckable beauty. She’d somehow become a friend, and he’d missed her. How pathetic was that? And, damn, was he glad at that moment that his mind was impervious to vampire intrusion. Speaking of which, the vampires had all left the coffee shop, leaving him standing there like an idiot, feeling sorry for himself. Shaking his head in disgust, he pulled out some cash and left the waitress a huge tip, then followed the gang across the street, where he could see Cyn already knocking on Briley’s door.

CYN CROSSED THE main street at a run. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, but there was enough that she had to time it carefully. Elke was right behind her. Apparently, she’d left the sausage-fest back in the restaurant measuring their dicks. The thought made her smile, because she’d seen both of the contestants’ dicks, and . . . She gave herself a mental slap upside the head and shut down that train of thought, just as Elke caught up to her, and the two of them started across the parking lot. “Stay out of sight,” Cyn said quietly. “He’s already spooked. It won’t take much to shut him down.” Elke rolled her eyes. “Really? I thought we’d go up to the door together. You know, like in those porn movies where they all end up in bed together.” Cyn snorted. “What do you know about porn movies? “Hey, Mal has introduced me to a whole new world,” Elke said, referring to the Hawaiian cop who’d followed her home after they’d rescued Raphael and now seemed to be a permanent part of her life. “Why am I not surprised?” “Because he’s a sexy hunk of man who’s all mine?”

“Exactly what I was thinking. Okay,” Cyn said, going all business. “You wait over there where he can’t see you.” “And after you’re in?” “Once I’m in, I don’t care how you handle it. Though it’s probably better if we don’t alert the neighbors. Raphael will be able to get what we need without resorting to screaming or crying.” “You mean from Briley, right?” Cyn stifled a laugh. “Stop that. Go.” She waited until Elke’s pale blond head was out of sight behind a big black truck with huge tires, then unbuttoned the top three buttons of her Henley-style shirt and knocked on Briley’s door. It took a while, but eventually she heard movement from inside the room, including the clear sound of a slide being racked on an automatic weapon. So Briley was armed. No great surprise there. She glanced over, but there was still no sign of Elke, which meant the female vamp probably hadn’t heard the gun noise. Otherwise, she’d be over here already, shoving Cyn out of the way. The door opened a few inches, to the end of the chain lock, leaving a gap for Gary Briley to peer out at her. She could have slammed that door open if she’d had to, pulling the flimsy chain right out of the wood frame. But she was playing nice tonight, so she summoned her best pathetic smile. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you, but I locked myself out and my cell phone’s—” “Go see the manager,” he interrupted rudely. Cyn managed to squeeze out a few tears. “I tried that,” she said pitifully. “But the manager’s gone on dinner break, and he won’t be back for nearly an hour. If I could just use your phone, I could call and maybe get his cell or something.” Briley was looking her up and down, noting her skin-tight blue jeans, the generous cleavage displayed by her unbuttoned shirt, and hopefully her sad but eager expression. She wasn’t much worried anymore about the gun hidden under her jacket. He seemed quite taken with her visible attributes and didn’t seem interested in frisking her. At least not for weapons. Ick.

Briley gave her a final perusal, then grunted, and closed the door long enough to disengage the chain lock with a hollow rattle. The door opened, and he did another head-to-toe scan. “Have we met?” he asked, his head tilted to one side, his face scrunched into a puzzled look. “I don’t think so,” Cyn replied. She’d been worried about this, that he might her from Hawaii. He wasn’t one of the guards she’d dealt with personally, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t caught sight of her before everything went to hell. “I’m sure I’d have ed,” she said, almost choking on the flattery. But it worked. Briley stepped back in an implicit invitation, and Cyn gave him her most brilliant smile as she stepped into the room. “Thank you,” she said. “Not everyone would invite a stranger into their room. Not in this day and age.” Briley gave a rough laugh. “I think I’m safe.” That kind of pissed Cyn off. Did he think he was safe just because she was a woman? She’d show him exactly how unsafe . . . But before she could show him anything, she felt Raphael enter the room. She didn’t need to see the alarmed look on Briley’s face to know he was there. Raphael was a force of nature. He didn’t walk into a room, he displaced air, like a one-vampire storm system. She smiled as he came up behind her and didn’t stop until her back was against his chest, his hand on her hip. She’d known when she’d left him and Nick bickering in the coffee shop that he’d never let her walk into Briley’s room alone. “Only a fool underestimates my Cyn,” Raphael informed Briley. And if they’d been somewhere else, she’d have given him a kiss for that vote of confidence. But kisses would wait. They had business to take care of right now, and the clock was ticking. Nick and Juro filed in behind Raphael, and she glanced over at Briley, gauging his response. His face was hard with anger as his room was suddenly filled with dangerous people. “What the hell?” he swore, backing away as far as he could get, fear replacing outrage when Juro closed the door and positioned himself in front of it with his arms crossed. “Who are you people?” Briley demanded. Raphael stepped past Cyn, his gaze fixed on Briley, his movement the lethal glide of a hunter, stalking his prey. “You must me,” he crooned. “We were together in Hawaii.”

Briley shuddered at the first words from Raphael’s mouth, the sound itself enough to trigger the part of his human hindbrain that ed dark nights spent shivering in caves while monsters roamed beneath the moonlight. “I nuh, never—” he stuttered. “I never went back to that room,” he whispered. “I didn’t know you were there. None of us did until you were gone.” “So you say.” “It’s true.” His eyes went wide, and he gave Cyn an accusing glare. “You! I knew I’d seen your face before. You started it all with your sad story and killer bikini. Bitch.” Raphael growled audibly, causing Briley to jerk back and stare at him. “You will watch your words when you speak to her, human. Your survival is not essential to my visit tonight.” Briley paled. “We didn’t know,” he rasped. “That woman hired us through the company. We did the job when we got there, but we wanted nothing to do with her.” “Mathilde,” Raphael supplied. “Her name was Mathilde, and you were right to fear her.” Briley was foolish enough to see that as some kind of vindication. A reprieve. He relaxed visibly, drawing a deep breath. “I don’t know anything about her. I don’t know where she is.” “Mathilde is no longer anyone’s concern. But then, you’re not hiding in this charming motel because you fear Mathilde, are you, Gary?” Raphael said kindly. Briley blinked in surprise at the use of his name, but then his expression shut down. “I don’t know what you mean.” Raphael tsked softly. “And here we were having such a good talk.” He must have done something vampy at that point, because an invisible force abruptly shoved Briley down and into a chair. His eyes practically bulged out of his head with terror when he struggled to escape and found that he couldn’t. “What are you?” he gasped, staring from Raphael to Cyn, and then beyond her to

Nick and Juro. Raphael smiled slowly, letting his fangs slide into terrifying view. Briley opened his mouth to scream but could only choke wordlessly as Raphael took away his voice. Cyn frowned. Or maybe it was his air that had been taken away, since he was now turning a pretty shade of purple. “Raphael,” Cyn said softly, even as Nick started forward behind her. She put out a hand to stop him at the same instant that Briley sucked in a harsh breath. Raphael took a moment to swing his head around and aim a threatening glare at Nick. “I know my business, sorcerer.” “Then, let’s get on with—” Nick started to argue, but it was Cyn who shut him down. “You weren’t there in Hawaii, Nick,” she murmured. “I was. So be quiet.” Nick gave a put-upon sigh, but didn’t say anything further. “Your friend stole the manacles,” Raphael continued to Briley, his voice quiet, but filled with menace. “Or maybe you conspired together to steal them. But then you got greedy, so you killed him and sold them on your own, taking all the money for yourself.” “We didn’t steal anything,” Briley insisted. “You broke free and that Mathilde woman never came back. Those handcuffs, or whatever you call them, were just lying there.” Raphael huffed a laugh. “You object to being called a thief, but murderer is just fine?” Briley looked away. “I wasn’t the one who killed him. All I did was recover the handcuffs after he was dead. They were half mine anyway.” “You’re lying,” Raphael said flatly. Briley opened his mouth to protest, but Raphael continued. “But then, I don’t give a fuck whether you killed him or not. I know you sold the manacles, and I want to know who your buyer was.” Briley was shaking his head in denial. “I don’t know who he is. The site is set up

that way. He used a fake name like everyone else.” “What did he look like?” “We never met. He wired me the—” He screamed, or at least he tried to. What came out was a high-pitched squeak as Raphael clamped down on his air once again. “You’re lying again. Now tell me what I want to know, or I’ll rip it from your screaming mind.” He shook his head helplessly. “He’ll kill me if I tell you.” Raphael raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?” Briley deflated, head hanging, his words a resigned mumble. “He called himself Frederick. An old dude with a British accent.” “How much?” For a moment, Cyn thought Briley would refuse to answer, and she wondered if the money was worth his life. Because, while Raphael might seem outwardly calm, she knew better. He was riding a fine fury that was just begging to be set free. Briley finally seemed to sense his danger. “A hundred thousand dollars,” he itted. “Cash.” “A hundred thousand dollars in your pocket, and you’re staying in this dump?” Nick commented, then turned to Raphael. “We don’t need him anymore. I know Freddie. And you . . . ,” he added, speaking to Briley. “You’re lucky to be alive. Freddie’s not above killing to get what he wants.” Briley’s alarmed gaze traveled from Raphael to Nick and back again. “Who are you people?” he asked again. “Your worst nightmare,” Nick intoned, and Cyn turned to give him a disbelieving look. “What?” he asked. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” She shook her head slightly, then moved up to touch Raphael’s arm. “Let’s go,”

she said quietly. “He killed his partner,” Raphael reminded her. “Not our problem.” He turned to give her a quizzical look. “I’ve taken care of it,” she said, meeting his eyes. He stared at her a moment longer, then smiled slightly and said, “We’re leaving.” Several things happened after that. First, Briley nearly fell out of his chair as Raphael suddenly released whatever hold he’d had on him. At the same moment, Juro stepped away from the door and yanked it open. Cool air rushed in, and out in the parking lot, the rest of Raphael’s guard snapped to attention. The three SUVs had been moved into place, and his guards now scrambled to provide a security barrier between the vehicles and the rest of the parking lot. Off to one side, Elke straightened to attention, her mouth turning up in a cynical half grin when she spied Cyn. Raphael herded Cyn toward the exit with a hand against her lower back, while making sure to keep his body between her and Gary Briley. Cyn thought this was overkill. Briley was no threat to her or anyone else in their party. Sure, he’d killed his buddy—a crime for which she’d done her best to see that he paid, having sent all of the evidence she and Nick had separately gathered to the local police. Notwithstanding his recent felony, however, she didn’t think he was crazy enough to attack Raphael. As they exited the room, Juro stepped over and opened the back door on the nearest SUV. Raphael started for the vehicle, still hustling Cyn ahead of him, but Nick’s voice stopped him. “What now, vampire?” Raphael waited until Cyn was safely inside the vehicle, before spinning to confront Nick. “You said you know this man.” “Frederick Chapman. He’s a flunky, a front man for Isaac Marshall, who’s the real collector.”

“Where will we find Marshall?” “He has a place in Florida, but his main estate is in Dobbs Ferry north of New York City. That’s where his collection is, and this time of year that’s where he’ll be.” Raphael nodded his understanding. “Dobbs Ferry is a drivable distance from Manhattan. We’ll meet you there in two nights. My Cyn will send you the details.” “We need to lock down Briley first. I don’t want him trying to cover his ass by warning Marshall, either directly or through Freddie.” Raphael lifted his chin in Juro’s direction, then gave Nick an impatient look. “Done. Are we finished here? I’d rather leave before all of this activity brings unwanted attention.” “Afraid of little blond vampire hunters named Buffy?” Nick half-joked. But Raphael wasn’t amused. “No, the police,” he said coldly. “We’re leaving.” He climbed into the SUV without another word. Cyn leaned over just before he shut the door in Nick’s face and called, “I’ll text you our address!” She caught Nick’s grin and then the door closed. “You two are going to drive me nuts,” she muttered. “You should both go home and let me deal with this alone.” “In your dreams,” Raphael growled, pulling her away from the window and snapping her seatbelt on before sliding his arm around her. Up front, Juro gave the order for the driver to move out. Cyn gave Raphael an amused look. “I bet you never used that phrase before you met me.” “I never did a lot of things before I met you. I had a nice, peaceful life.” She laughed. “You mean boring, I think.”

He smiled, then leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “I love you, my Cyn.” “Love you, too, fang boy.” She was quiet a moment, then said, “Listen, as long as we’re going to be in Manhattan anyway, I might as well call Sarah and—” “You’re not going shopping.” “Why not?” she demanded. “Because the last time you two went shopping, you were kidnapped.” “Pfft. An aberration. And we escaped, didn’t we?” “Yes, but I aged fifty years.” “Only fifty? I think I’m worth at least a hundred.” “You can shop as long as you go at night, and Elke goes with you.” Cyn considered it. She didn’t really need his permission to do anything, but she doubted Sarah would go against Rajmund’s wishes on the matter, and Raj was certain to go along with Raphael and insist on a vampire guard. And, besides, things were tense with Christian consolidating his power and wrapping up the war in the South, not to mention whatever the hell was happening up in Canada with Sophia. “Done,” she agreed. She was silent for a moment, then clapped her hands. “We’re going shopping!” she said, putting a little bounce into the words mostly to irritate him. “After we’ve recovered these accursed manacles.” “Yeah, yeah,” she said, brushing away his words. “Work before play and all that tedious shit. But then . . . shopping!” Raphael just shook his head and pulled her closer as they sped through the night back to Kansas City.

Chapter Six

New York City, New York

IT WAS ONLY a three-hour flight from Kansas to New York City, but by the time they got back to the airport in Kansas City, it was too close to dawn to make the trip. If they’d left then, with the time zones working against them, they’d have arrived in New York after sunrise. And that would have required human pilots, and then sleeping the entire day at the airport. Raphael was willing to compromise when the situation demanded it, but in this instance it definitely didn’t. At least, not as far as he was concerned, and Cyn agreed. She was beginning to wonder what the real story was with Nick and the Amber Manacles. After their little conversation with Gary Briley, they had not only the buyer’s name, but it turned out that Nick actually knew the guy. So, why couldn’t he just this Isaac Marshall and offer to buy the damn things? Surely Marshall would be willing to sell for the right price, especially if that price was high enough to permit him to buy a few other items for his collection. It’s not as if the manacles could be used for much, not as if they were a magic lamp or a genie in a bottle or anything. Unless you planned on holding someone prisoner with them, you were pretty much out of luck. She was still thinking about all of that when the sun set on their second night in Manhattan. They’d made the short journey from Kansas City the previous night, but rather than hustle from the airport to meet Nick, they’d taken time to settle in properly. Raphael owned a gorgeous townhome in Manhattan, one that was fully renovated to accommodate vampires. There were three separate sleeping vaults, two private ones—including the one Raphael and Cyn shared—and then one big vault that was split into smaller rooms for Raphael’s security staff and whoever else happened to be travelling with him. Nick was staying at a hotel, and so Raphael had agreed that the three of them

should meet at the townhouse to plan their next steps. He wasn’t happy about having Nick in the townhouse, but he’d agreed to it. For Cyn’s part, the constant antagonism between the two of them was beginning to wear on her in a serious way. More and more, she found herself contemplating how easy it would be to do this job on her own. A quick in-and-out burglary with no one the wiser. In fact, she was wondering why she hadn’t insisted on just that from the very beginning. There were some things that should never be attempted by committee, and burglary was definitely one of them. Getting dressed for the evening, she pulled a sweater over her head and looked up to find Raphael studying her with a knowing look on his handsome face. He was altogether too good at figuring her out, even though he swore he never probed into her thoughts. She was confident she’d know if he snooped in her head, but he’d had nearly five centuries to observe human behavior, and he knew her too damn well. Time for a distraction. “Did you call Raj?” she asked, sitting down on the bed to pull on her boots. “I mean, since we got here,” she amended, since Raphael had called his fellow vampire lord before leaving Kansas, in order to secure permission to visit New York. It was common courtesy and just plain good planning for Raphael to call Rajmund, who ruled the Northeastern territory, before they arrived. And then there was the whole shopping excursion to plan. Raphael eyed her silently. His expression didn’t give anything away, but she knew he thought she was up to something. “We spoke earlier,” he said finally. “If there’s time, we’ll be meeting before we leave.” “You and Raj can have a drink while Sarah and I shop,” she suggested brightly. He rolled his eyes. “Are you ready?” She stood and stamped her feet in her boots. “Ready, master.” He stood and threaded his strong fingers through her hair, tugging slightly so she looked up at him. “ that, lubimaya.” He kissed her softly, smiling at her confused look. “ who truly is master around here.” Cyn went to punch him, but he caught her fist with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go see what that damn sorcerer wants now.” He took Cyn’s hand and led her out of their suite and down the stairs. All the

while, the same idea kept running through her thoughts . . . it would be so much easier if I did this alone.

NICK HEARD FOOTSTEPS on the marble and turned in time to see Raphael and Cyn round the bottom of the stairs. They were holding hands. Wasn’t that sweet? He had no doubt Raphael was possessive as hell when it came to Cyn, just as he had no doubt the vampire’s usual possessiveness was on steroids these last few days. He took no small amount of pleasure from knowing that he was the cause of the vampire’s agitation, but at the same time, he was forced to it that he envied what the two of them had. As much as he didn’t want to see it, there was no doubting the strong connection between them. Raphael didn’t just desire Cyn, he didn’t only want to own her, he actually loved her. That was an emotion Nick couldn’t recall ever seeing from a vampire as powerful as Raphael. Vampires like him owned people, even their lovers. They didn’t love them, and they sure as hell didn’t commit to a monogamous relationship with one of them. Nick looked at what Cyn and Raphael had, and he wanted it for himself. He longed for it. He was so tired of being alone, of searching for his warriors and fearing that he’d never find them, that he might be alone forever. Sure, he had people who worked for him, good people whom he cared about. But he didn’t have friends, didn’t have the camaraderie of his brothers-in-arms. And he sure as hell didn’t have a lover waiting for him to come home at night. He gritted his teeth, wondering what had come over him lately. Maybe it was being around those two for days on end. He needed to recover the manacles and get the hell away before they had him drinking the same happily-ever-after Kool-Aid. “Hey Nick,” Cyn said brightly, but she didn’t try to hug him. Apparently, the vampire had drawn the line on that. “How’s the hotel?” “One of the best in the city, darling. Don’t worry about me.” “We’re not,” Raphael said flatly. He pulled Cyn down to sit next to him on one of two facing couches and gestured for Nick to take the other. “Tell me about this collector.” “Us,” Cyn corrected him, with a scolding look. “Tell us about this collector.”

Raphael squeezed her hand and leaned over to brush a kiss over her temple in apology. How sweet. Fuck, he needed to get away from here. “You want to know about Isaac Marshall,” he said briskly. “Right,” Cyn said. “But first, I have a question. Why not just buy the manacles from Marshall? I know it’s not a question of money, so what’s the deal?” “You underestimate the mindset of a collector. Marshall’s collection is one of the top five in the world, and it didn’t get that way because he was willing to sell. In fact, I’ve never heard of a single piece from his collection ever going up for auction. He acquires, he doesn’t sell.” Cyn frowned. That actually made sense. She’d known people just like that when she was growing up. Her father, when it came to his art collection, for example. “Cyn, I know you’ve already done a computer search on him,” Nick said, changing the subject. “What’d you find?” She nodded. “He’s a boring man who heads up a private family trust and sits on the boards of two very significant publically traded corporations. If it weren’t for his money, he’d be invisible.” “That’s it?” he asked, a little disappointed. He’d have expected Cyn to see the man behind the façade. “Give me a little credit,” she said dryly. “No one’s that invisible, not with as much money as he has. So I went looking in all the wrong places. He’s got some very unsavory, albeit legal, hobbies, though he does a good job of hiding them. For some reason, no one in the press has called him on his underground activities, but if it matters, I’ll find out why. Either he’s paying a lot of people off, or he’s got some good enforcers on his side.” “Or he’s making use of magic,” Nick suggested. “He doesn’t have any inborn magic of his own that I know of, but I’ve never met him in person, so I can’t say for sure. There are certainly devices in the world that could cast a sufficiently threatening nimbus around him and his activities that would prevent anyone from exploring too deeply. Or it could be something as simple as a forgetfulness charm. Though that would only work if he was rigorous in confining his unsavory pleasures to one location.”

“Is that possible?” Cyn asked, looking at Raphael, not Nick, which pissed him off. He was the magic expert in the room. He’d been born with his power and had been practicing magic for millennia, while the damn vampire had just woken up one night with a taste for blood. “I generally avoid sorcerers,” Raphael told Cyn, his arm on the back of the couch behind her, his fingers tangling idly in her dark hair. Yeah, yeah, I get it. She belongs to you, Nick thought to himself. But Raphael was still talking. “I’ve heard tale of such devices created ages ago when magic was said to have been free in the universe for anyone with the skill to harness it. No longer, however.” He shifted his gaze to Nick, giving him a malevolent stare. Cyn turned a puzzled look on Nick. “Do you think Marshall plans to use the manacles for something . . . violent? Granted, his sexual tastes are unconventional, but I couldn’t find anyone who’d been hurt by them. His partners are all part of the same underground community and seem willing enough.” Nick regarded her silently for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to convince her that getting the manacles back was an urgent matter without revealing too much. He’d assumed she and Raphael wouldn’t need much convincing, because of their personal experience with the manacles. And it had seemed to be enough, right up until the moment Isaac Marshall was identified as the buyer. Cyn had a point about Marshall not being violent, and not particularly dangerous, at least not overtly . . . though he had no doubts that Marshall would feel quite justified in killing anyone who tried to steal from him. Unfortunately, that only argued against going after the damn things, because it might be more dangerous to try to take them, rather than leaving them in place. But Nick had reasons of his own for getting the manacles into his own collection. Reasons he wasn’t eager to share. He glanced up and found the damn vampire staring at him, his black eyes intent and seeing far too much. Suddenly, the vamp’s lips curled into a smug smile, and he laughed.

CYN JOLTED IN surprise when Raphael laughed. Not only because he didn’t

laugh like that very often, but because there was a cruel edge to it that she found troubling. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but in the same moment, everything changed. Nick jumped to his feet, kicking the heavy coffee table out of the way as he launched an attack. She felt the faintest brush of his power before Raphael roared his fury and shoved her aside, pulling on his own power to slam Nick backward, the force of his attack so great that the sofa Nick had been sitting on went flying toward the door. The two of them faced off, only inches apart, chests heaving, hands curled into fists, while a crackling energy pounded through the room. The walls seemed to pulse from the pressure, the crystal chandelier overhead chiming a discordant music. Raphael’s guards were there in an instant, Juro even sooner. Nick gave them an unconcerned glance then turned back to Raphael with a sneer. “Calling in the troops? Afraid to stand on your own, vampire?” Raphael shot a quick look at his vampires, holding them in place as he snarled, “You should have stayed where you belonged, sorcerer. This is my world now.” Cyn felt like she was in the middle of an electrical storm. The hair on her arms was standing stiff and straight, and her ears ached from the unbearable pressure. She was only feet away from them, but Raphael and Nick seemed unaware of anyone but each other. Raphael’s eyes were pure silver and filled with hate, and Nick seemed taller and bigger, radiating a power that Cyn had never known he possessed. She glanced once at Juro, who had settled into a wait-and-see stance near the entrance to the room. But she wasn’t willing to wait. She wanted to know what the hell had happened. Granted, they’d been bickering for days, but what had set them off like this? She played back the conversation in her head. They’d been talking about the manacles and why it was so important to get them back since Marshall had no history of violence. What did it matter whose vault the damn things sat in, as long as they were secure? She tilted her head curiously at the thought. Why did it matter? Why was Nick so set on having them for himself? A loud crack of power abruptly snapped in the room, like a mini lightning strike. And like lightning, it dispersed, reaching up to the light fixture and spreading outward, crackling against the lamp to Cyn’s right and burning a trail over her

bare forearm. She cried out in shock as unexpected pain raced up her arm and squeezed her heart. Raphael spun at the sound of her cry, concern replacing the anger in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her, sheltering her from the energy still sizzling through the room. “Lubimaya,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” Cyn nodded, soaking his shirt with unwilling tears that she couldn’t seem to stop, still trying to make sense of what had happened. She looked over Raphael’s shoulder and saw Nick watching them unhappily. But was that because she’d been hurt, or was it something else? What the hell was happening here? She pulled back enough to meet Raphael’s eyes. “What’s going on?” she asked him, and was surprised when, instead of answering her question, he swung them both around to face Nick. “Don’t.” It sounded like an order coming from Nick, but she could see the plea in his eyes. “What?” she asked, more confused than ever. Raphael shot Nick one of his most cruel smiles and said, “He created them.” She frowned in confusion at first, but then switched her gaze to Nick, staring at him, waiting for him to deny it. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was too busy glaring his hatred at Raphael. But what he didn’t do was deny what Raphael had said. Nick had created the Amber Manacles? She’d thought they were friends, but now she wondered if she knew anything about him at all. “Nick?” she said, asking him for this one truth. His gaze shifted to her reluctantly. “It was a long time ago,” he said quietly. “The world was a different place.” Cyn examined what she was feeling in that moment. It was stupid to be hurt by this news, on top of everything else she’d learned about him. It was even worse to feel disappointed, as if he’d let her down somehow. He didn’t owe her anything. And the reality was that Raphael had done a lot of terrible things in the

past and would do so in the future, too, without a second thought. His world was a violent place, so maybe Nick’s was, too. Magic of whatever kind changed a person; immortality changed him even more. So Nick had created a set of handcuffs designed to torment a prisoner. She’d seen Raphael torture prisoners with incredible cruelty, sometimes in search of information, and sometimes simply to exact revenge on someone who’d crossed him. How was that any different? She sighed, knowing the answers to her questions weren’t easy, if there were any answers at all. Maybe the worlds of magic and humanity should simply never have crossed paths. And maybe that was even more true of sorcerers and vampires. It seemed Raphael and Nick had had the right of it all along. She glanced around at the ruin of the living room. Those two needed to stay far away from each other, because they sure as hell weren’t getting anything done this way. Cyn made a decision in that moment. She’d joked about it to Raphael, but the truth was that she didn’t need either one of them mucking things up, adding their personal drama to what was really just a basic breaking and entering. She’d do it herself. Go in, get it done, and get out. Nick could take the damn manacles and go back to Florida. And Raphael could flip him off, then go uptown to meet Rajmund. And she and Sarah could go fucking shopping. But first . . . “All right,” she said calmly, smoothing a hand over her hair, which was still crackling with electrostatic energy. “So how do we do this?” Nick had been watching her, his hazel gold eyes begging her to understand. But now he shuttered that emotion, his gaze going flat and businesslike. “We need to move on Marshall before he knows we’re coming. He’ll have guards on his estate, and some of the artifacts he owns are quite dangerous in the right hands. He’s not an adept, no magical ability of his own, but he has resources. There’s no guarantee that he doesn’t have someone on staff with enough magical talent to be a problem.” “Can you sense them, if he does?”

He nodded. “If I can get close enough. A decent adept can shield, but not from me. I’ll know if there’s a magic on the estate.” “Okay, so we go in there tomorrow night,” she said. “He’ll expect that,” Nick protested. “By now, he knows that the previous owner was a vampire, but he won’t know that she’s dead . . . which means, if she wants her property back, she’ll come at night.” He sucked in a breath and glanced at Raphael. “Cyn and I should go in during the day.” If Cyn hadn’t been holding on to Raphael, the two of them would have started in on each other all over again. His arms were steel bands around her, his eyes flashing silver as he stared at Nick and said with a deceptive calm, “No way in hell.” Nick opened his mouth to snarl back at Raphael, but Cyn interrupted. “Enough,” she snapped. “This is getting us nowhere. We’ll all go in together tomorrow night. And we’ll deal with whatever, or whomever, we find,” she added in a loud voice when Nick would have protested. “I’m sure between the three of us, we can handle whatever security enhancements Marshall has waiting. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’m tired and I’m sore—” She ignored the flash of guilt on Raphael’s face. “—and I want to go to bed.” She eased herself out of Raphael’s grip gently, not wanting to upset him. She wasn’t angry with him, or with Nick either. Despite the violence of his attack, she’d never felt threatened. He’d actually been fairly pinpoint accurate in targeting only Raphael. She was, however, sad. As if by discovering how little she knew about him, she’d actually lost a friend. But more than anything, she was sick and tired of dealing with their drama. And, besides, she needed some time alone to come up with her own plans for breaking in to Marshall’s vault tomorrow.

CYN WAS ALREADY in bed by the time Raphael finally made it to their suite on the second floor. She knew he’d needed to deal with his vampires, to reassure them that he was all right, and to make sure that they didn’t decide to kill Nick for the crime of threatening their lord. Assuming they could kill Nick. She didn’t

know what kind of power he had, though she suspected Raphael, at least, could kill Nick if he tried. It was likely that the only thing holding him back earlier had been his concern over her reaction. “Everything okay out there?” she asked, glancing up from her iPad as if she’d been doing nothing more than reading a book . . . rather than hacking into the Dobbs Ferry city building office to get blueprints of Isaac Marshall’s estate. It had been shockingly easy. The local government really needed to beef up its Internet security. Raphael studied her briefly, his black eyes trying to see into her brain to figure out what she was thinking. Ha! Fat chance of that. “The sorcerer went back to his hotel for now,” he said finally. “We’ll meet here tomorrow night and discuss our plans on the way to Marshall’s estate.” “You think that’s enough time to plan?” she asked, as if it mattered. By the time they met tomorrow night, the deed would be done . . . by her. “It will have to be. There’s only so much time I can waste on reclaiming something I don’t care about.” Cyn swallowed the conciliatory words that sprang to mind. There was no point trying to persuade the two of them to get along. “What about your vampires?” she asked. “Do they get to party when this is all over with? I mean, as long as we’re in New York?” Raphael smiled as he walked over to the huge walk-in closet, stopping to pull his sweater off before answering her question. “I’ve already sent some of my guard into the city to feed. Rajmund has given us carte blanche at any of his clubs.” Cyn had trouble ing what she wanted to say. A half-naked Raphael was a sight to behold, his chest and shoulders padded with muscle, his abdomen and belly ripped and tight. She licked her lips as he disappeared into the closet, freeing up some of her brain cells. “Did Juro go?” she asked finally, mostly because Juro was living with her best friend Lucia and she wanted to know if he was being a good boyfriend.

Raphael reappeared, fully naked, damn him. He gave her a knowing look before answering her question. “Juro is downstairs. He only feeds from Lucia these days, as you well know.” She shrugged, pretending innocence. “I thought maybe since he’s here, and Luci’s way back there . . .” “And if I was here, and you were way back there?” Her gaze narrowed. “I’d stake you in your sleep.” He laughed, then crossed to the bed, leaning over to kiss her as he pulled the covers back and climbed in next to her. “I want no one but you, my Cyn.” He pulled her down under the covers, tossing her iPad to one side, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. A naked Raphael was a thing of beauty. A naked Raphael holding her close sent a delicious thrill chasing along her nerves, making her pussy warm and wet with excitement. Unfortunately, her pussy would have to wait a few hours. The night was too short, the sun nearly risen. Raphael’s arm was tight around her, but she’d spent enough nights with him by now to recognize the encroaching signs of his daylight sleep. His heart began to slow its steady rhythm, his breathing became deeper, each breath longer and slower, and his muscles gradually took on a languid quality. The fingers that had been playing with her hair fell suddenly still against her neck, and Raphael tipped his head to kiss her temple. “Don’t do it, my Cyn,” he murmured. She stiffened guiltily, then forced herself to relax. “What?” she asked, feigning confusion. He didn’t fall for it, of course. “Whatever it is you’re planning. Don’t do it. Unless you’d like your sweet ass to be bright pink tomorrow night.” She snorted. “Promises, promises.” That drew a sleepy smile from him. She pushed herself up and placed a soft kiss against his lips. “I love you, fang boy.” “I love you too, my Cyn. But I know you. We’ll go after the manacles together tomorrow night as planned. Let the damn sorcerer take the risks to reclaim them. And then we’ll go home and get back to our lives.”

“After shopping,” she reminded him, and he smiled again. “After shopping,” he agreed, his eyes already half-closed. “Sounds like a plan,” she said sincerely. Although she didn’t tell him that the only part that sounded good was the getting back to our lives. And the shopping. Everything else he’d said was bullshit. He couldn’t even say Nick’s name, and yet somehow the three of them were supposed to agree to a plan, act on it successfully, then bid each other a fond farewell . . . all in one night. Yeah, right. “Cynthia,” Raphael said in his best, half-asleep, tough guy voice. He only used her full name when he was trying to project a stern, you-will-obey-me attitude. It never worked, but she gave him props for trying. His breath ran out in a long sigh, and his arm loosened, eventually falling from her shoulder. The sun was up. “Don’t worry, baby,” she said softly. “I know what I’m doing.” She waited until she knew he was asleep, and then she climbed out of bed and got dressed. Early morning was the best time to sneak onto an estate like Isaac Marshall’s. His guards would be relaxed, tired, and still propping themselves up with large doses of caffeine. And then there were his rather vigorous nighttime sexual habits that she’d uncovered. She was willing to bet—she actually was betting—that he slept late most mornings, but especially on the proverbial morning after. Based on his credit card usage, there was a very telling pattern in Marshall’s shady social activities. She knew which nights he habitually indulged, and Sunday night, last night, was a day he never seemed to miss. She hadn’t shared this with Raphael or Nick. She suspected it was because, in the back of her mind, she’d already known she’d be going in solo. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t prepare, however. Contrary to how Raphael seemed to view her actions, she always did her research. She enjoyed the adrenaline rush of taking on a dangerous task, but the real thrill was making it out the other side successfully. She rolled over and grabbed the iPad that Raphael had tossed aside, then pulled up the blueprints to Marshall’s estate once more. She’d already marked the areas in his estate house that she considered suspicious, meaning they were possible locations for his vault. If he was as secretive as Nick indicated, he wouldn’t show the vault itself on these official blueprints. The places she’d highlighted were rooms that didn’t seem to fit their

description. A ballroom with only one entrance marked. A basement kitchen with no plumbing. One of those had to be the vault. Hopefully they weren’t both vaults, because it would be bad enough trying to gain access to one. There were so many things that could go wrong with her plan, but her nightmare scenario was discovering something like a bank vault, with individual drawers and compartments each secured with a separate key. Anything else, and she was confident she could crack the main door security. And after that . . . well, she hoped Marshall was vain enough to display his collection, letting her shop through the aisles for what she wanted. She didn’t wear her usual breaking and entering clothes, which would have been black combat pants and boots, with a long-sleeved T-shirt. That outfit made sense, but it would be much harder to explain if she was discovered. Instead, she went with functional but stylish. Skinny black jeans and black, flat-soled leather boots that hit her knees. She wore a black, long-sleeved T-shirt, but this one had a low, V-neck that framed her full breasts and displayed considerable cleavage. Boobage wasn’t her norm when going into a combat situation, but when discovery was a possibility, it was always good to keep the sexy option open. She’d already ed the blueprints onto her cell phone, so she checked the battery charge, then slipped the silenced phone into her pocket. Letting herself out of the secure suite, she made sure it was all locked up behind her, then headed downstairs. Steve Sipes met her at the bottom of the stairs. “Going out, Cyn?” She nodded. “Having lunch with a friend. She’s in New Jersey, so I’ll be taking one of the SUVs, if that’s okay?” “Sure thing. We don’t use them much in the city. Come on, I’ll walk you to the garage.” She didn’t really need him to accompany her. It wasn’t like there was any security risk inside the townhouse, but she didn’t protest. He was just being a nice guy. They walked in silence to the back of the townhouse where there was a two-car garage. That garage was one of the main reasons Raphael had selected this property. Off-street parking was at a in Manhattan. One of Steve’s men greeted them in the kitchen. Armed to the teeth, he kept his gaze dead serious as

he looked to Steve for some kind of signal. It wasn’t unheard of for her to go out during the day, but two things were different about this particular morning. One, of course, was that they’d all heard about the blow-up last night between Raphael and Nick. But the second thing, and the one that had the guard looking to Steve for direction, was that, day or night, she rarely went out alone. Normally, her daytime bodyguard, Robbie Shields, would be right beside her, but Robbie’s wife, Irina, had been seriously injured in a fall the day before they left on this trip. She was a vampire and old enough to heal almost anything, but the healing went a lot faster with her mate, and his blood, by her side. Cyn had told him to stay home, and Raphael had concurred. Irina was one of his longtime staff people. So, Cyn was alone, a fact which suddenly seemed to hit Steve. “I’m going to send one of my guys with you,” he said abruptly. She almost groaned out loud. So close. “That’s okay, Steve. I’m just going there and back. Once I get there, I’ll be behind her security. Her husband’s mega rich, and their estate’s like Fort Knox.” He eyed her for a long moment, deciding. If anything happened to her, Raphael would have his head, and he knew it. But Cyn knew it, too, and she’d never risk it if she wasn’t confident about the situation she was heading into. No one was going to get hurt. It would be a quick in and out. Marshall wouldn’t even know she’d been there. And if everything that could go wrong did, and the op went sideways? Well, Raphael would know where she was, because he always did. “God damn it, Cyn. If you’re up to something . . .” She laughed. Apparently Steve knew her too well. “It’s lunch, Steve,” she assured him. And that much was true. She did plan on grabbing a burger on her way to Marshall’s estate in Dobbs Ferry. She was always hungry in the morning these days. Probably because she usually skipped dinner to be with Raphael . . . because, of course, she was his dinner. Steve studied her a minute longer, then grabbed a set of keys from the board next to the garage door and tapped in the alarm code. The door buzzed open. “This one,” he said, pushing a button on the remote and unlocking the nearest Suburban with a flash of lights. There were two vehicles parked in the garage. They were identical and kept at the townhouse all the time. It would have been

less expensive to rent what they needed when they were in town, especially since they didn’t visit often. But it was more secure to maintain their own vehicles. Cyn took the keys from him. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll take good care of it. See you in a bit.” The Suburban had been backed in for a quick exit, so she threw her backpack across the center console and slid onto the smooth leather seat. It took a few minutes to adjust everything to her liking—the seats, the mirrors, the radio. Someone had been listening to elevator music. You’d think vampires would have better taste, what with having all that time to develop it. Steve was standing in the doorway watching her. She gave him a little wave, then waited until he’d stepped back into the kitchen and closed the door. Standard security measures during the day dictated that the garage door was never open at the same time as the house door. She hit the button on the SUV’s visor. The garage door slid open nearly silently, and she drove out into the sunshine. “Success,” she whispered to herself as she drove down the alley. But on the heels of that thought was the knowledge that getting out of the townhouse was the easiest part of her still-evolving plan. She wouldn’t know the rest of it until she laid eyes on Marshall’s house, but she really wasn’t all that worried. She’d figure something out. She always did.

Chapter Seven

Dobbs Ferry, New York

CYN SAT IN THE Suburban a half-mile away from Marshall’s estate. She’d had to park so far away because his place was out in the middle of nowhere. Well, not exactly nowhere, but properties out here were big enough that he didn’t exactly have neighbors, and she couldn’t park closer without looking suspicious. On the plus side, there were lots of trees, which provided much-needed cover, and the absence of other houses meant there was little traffic and no one to wonder why she was just sitting there. Especially since she was making good use of a very excellent pair of binoculars to study the place, and so far, everything she was seeing was what she’d hoped for. Every property she’d ed in this clearly affluent neighborhood had some kind of sign posted which d the security company they employed. And every one of them, including Marshall’s, was the standard, home security type of company. This was good news from Cyn’s standpoint, but it was what she’d expected. The mistake that Nick, and even Raphael, had been making with regard to Isaac Marshall was in assuming his security would equal their own. But Marshall wasn’t a vampire lord with hundreds of minions and plenty of dangerous and unpredictable enemies. Nor was he an ancient sorcerer, though Cyn didn’t know what that meant, exactly. Obviously, Nick had enemies, or at least one enemy, the one who’d stolen his warriors from him. And she’d guess his security would be closer to Raphael’s than that of your average wealthy suburbanite. She thought about her grandparents’ elegant home in Bel Air, or her father’s estate in Brentwood. They had state-of-the-art security . . . for their neighborhood. Every door and window was alarmed, with regular patrols by their security company, and in her dad’s case, a guard at the front gate whose main job was stopping solicitors and other unwanted visitors from ringing the

doorbell. Financially, Marshall was closer to her father, in of both assets and profession. Her dad even had an expensive art collection and had remodeled a space in his house to create a safe environment for it. Marshall’s collection happened to be magical devices instead of art, but that didn’t mean he had to secure his entire estate to protect it. Just the room he kept his collection in. She probably should have quizzed Nick more on what kind of magical protections Marshall might have bought for himself, and the best way of getting around them, but if she’d asked too many questions, he’d have grown suspicious. And besides, in the final analysis, it didn’t matter. She was going in there, and she’d simply deal with anything magical that was triggered by her physical intrusion, just as she would anything mechanical. How different could it be? She’d been sitting and watching the front gate of Marshall’s estate long enough to see that there was only one guard in the gate shack. Ideally, she’d have kept up her surveillance for several hours to see when and if someone showed up to spell him long enough for a break, but she didn’t have that much time. She didn’t know how long it would take once she got inside, and she at least wanted to be back on the road to Manhattan by the time Raphael woke. She’d prefer to be a whole lot closer, like lying in bed next to him, because he was not going to be pleased. Hell, he already wasn’t pleased. He had this spooky, sometimes reassuring, way of following her activities during the day and making his feelings known when she did something he didn’t like. That usually being something that put her in danger. And today, she could feel his anger like a simmering heat in the back of her mind, an anger tempered by worry for her. It wasn’t just that he was a control freak, although he was. It was that he honestly feared for her safety, and the best way he knew to express that was to get angry with her. Her vampire. She did love him. She smiled and straightened slightly in her seat, putting the binocs to her eyes as a gardening service pulled up to Marshall’s gate and was waved in without fuss. Granted, this was probably a regular service, but even so, at least a brief conversation might have been in order. Hell, if this were Raphael’s gate, the van wouldn’t have been itted in the daytime at all, and at night, it would have been searched right down to the undercarriage. For that matter, Marshall’s gates themselves were nothing but decorative wrought iron, giving a clear view of the

house which sat about a hundred yards beyond them, an easy shot for even a modestly skilled sniper. It was at this point that Cyn realized how much her life had changed in the last couple of years. Before she’d met Raphael, her own security had consisted of video cameras and reinforced doors. Hell, she’d slept many nights with her second floor patio door open to the beach below, so she could hear the waves better. Now, she was sitting here criticizing Marshall’s security because he didn’t guard against snipers. She put away the binoculars, shaking her head at her own thoughts. Time to give this puppy a test run. If she was right, all she’d need to do was find a spot on the wall that was out of sight of the guard shack and climb over. If she was wrong . . . well, she’d always been a fast runner. She started up the Suburban and drove slowly past, noticing that the guard didn’t even look up. Nodding to herself, she continued on down the twisting road, circling around until the GPS told her she was on the far side of Marshall’s estate. Looking up, she saw that the wall was the same pale gray stone as the front, which seemed to confirm her location. There were too many trees for her to see the house at this point, but once she reached the top of the wall, it should come into view. There was no street parking as such in this neighborhood, but there wasn’t much traffic either. In fact, other than the gardener, she hadn’t seen another car the whole time she’d been sitting there. This had all been part of her thinking about the job. Kids were in school, adults were either working, or recovering from the breakfast rush. Or in Marshall’s case, sleeping late after being out much of the night. Or up much of the night, she thought, chuckling to herself. She pulled over onto the soft shoulder of the road, picking a spot where tree branches hung low, careful to park so that the entire vehicle was off the roadway. Stepping out, she walked around to the cargo hatch and geared up, checking that both of her weapons had full magazines. Her favored Glock 17 went into her shoulder harness, and the second, identical weapon was tucked into the back of her pants beneath her jacket. A short blade went into her boot, something she’d started carrying after she’d found herself bound up with duct tape not so long ago. She added a few other supplies, throwing them into a backpack that was a little smaller than the one she usually carried, but big enough to hold the

manacles once she found them. Looking around, she considered not using the keyed remote to lock the doors, but then did it anyway, figuring the beep of a car remote was one of those noises no one paid attention to anymore. She slipped the key into an outside pocket on the backpack and zipped it shut, then walked down the road and crossed the ditch to the wall surrounding Marshall’s property. Back here, the wall was far less manicured than it had been up front. It was overgrown with vines, and trees grew right up against both sides of the wall, with heavy branches hanging over the top. A ten-year old could have climbed this wall. Probably faster than she could. She patted her weapons to make sure they were secure, drew on a pair of gloves, and slung the backpack over one shoulder as she eyed her options. She could climb the wall—those vines wouldn’t hold her weight, but they’d be useful hand and footholds for a quick up and over—or she could climb one of the trees. Deciding on the most direct approach, she took as much of a running leap as she could and went for the wall. Her foot slipped at first; she hadn’t considered that the leafy vines might be slimy and the boots she was wearing, with their flat soles, weren’t exactly designed for climbing. But she caught hold of a ropey vine and used it to propel herself high enough to get a handhold on the top of the wall. From there, she used some of the upper body strength that Elke was always forcing her to work on and pulled herself up until her hips rested against the lip of the wall, allowing her to get a good look beyond it. What she saw was nothing but trees for about twenty-five yards. Beyond that was a stretch of lawn, and then a big pool against a furnished and covered patio with a brick fire pit. The house looked awfully quiet and locked down, almost as if no one was living there at the moment. Not emptied out, but as if the owners were on vacation somewhere else. She had a moment’s doubt. What if Nick had been wrong, and this wasn’t Marshall’s main home? She’d have done all of this for nothing. But the doubt ed quickly. Marshall’s credit card activity proved that not only was this where he lived most of the time, but that he was living here now. Pulling herself all the way up, she briefly straddled the wall, then flipped over and shimmied down the other side. Going down was always easier than climbing

up. Once she hit the ground, she paused to take stock of things. This far out in the country, there was little ambient noise to muddle her senses. There were no sounds of human activity inside Marshall’s house, no voices, no music, no footsteps. And, thankfully, no dogs. The estate was perfectly quiet. She pulled a smaller pair of binoculars from her pack and searched the doors and windows on the back of the house. Most of the window coverings were pulled back, letting her see at least partway into the rooms, but there was no movement. She also looked for a doggy door or doghouse, any sign that there might be an animal on the property to give her away. But again, there was nothing. That didn’t mean there was no dog, any more than the absence of movement meant there were no people, but she felt confident enough to move closer. Putting the binocs back in her pack and slinging it over her shoulder, she started through the trees, doing her best to walk quietly. She smiled for a moment, ing the first time she’d visited Raphael’s estate, and how she’d felt as if she’d sounded like a herd of elephants compared to his silent footsteps. She paused again, just inside the tree line, paying particular attention to the windows and roof where security might be stationed, but there was no one. Leaving the shelter of the trees behind, she started across the wide expanse of lawn, moving quickly, but not running. In a matter of seconds, she was on the pool deck, ducked down next to a large double chaise. And there was still no activity from the house, no sign that she’d been detected. She’d just begun to feel pretty confident about her chances, when a thought occurred to her. Marshall might not have any guard personnel on his property, aside from the gate, but he almost certainly had at least a basic alarm system. If the house was locked up tight, which it appeared to be, the alarm would be armed. So how the hell was she supposed to get inside? She was no electronics expert, and she certainly didn’t possess the skills to by an alarm in ten seconds or whatever it was. Well, damn. It was times like this when it was handy to have Raphael around. He didn’t need to by the alarm—he could simply zap it out. For that matter, if Nick was such a super duper sorcerer, he probably had a trick or two that would accomplish the same thing. Of course, that assumed the two of them could stop bickering long enough to avoid rousing the entire neighborhood before they even reached the front door. And that thought reminded her of why she was here on a

sunny, Monday morning all alone. She’d been doing stuff like this for years before meeting Raphael, and she could do it today. There was always a way. With seemingly no one watching, she stood and strolled up to the house, ing beneath the patio cover and right up to the glass door. Standing to one side, she peered through the window into a very nice, open concept kitchen and den area. Marshall’s house was big, but not huge. It was definitely a house, not a mansion, with maybe five thousand square feet on two floors, and the possibility of a basement. There would be no endless wings and levels for her to search, which was great. Now, she just had to get inside. She tested the sliding glass door, but it was locked. That would have been too easy. Feeling confident, she took a chance and walked along the entire rear of the house and up the right-hand side, checking out doors and windows, peering around the front, while being careful to remain out of the lone guard’s line of sight. Finding nothing that would help her, she retraced her steps, going to the left this time, and there she found what she was looking for—a narrow door with a window that was cracked open, as if for fresh air. Peering inside, she saw a good-sized laundry room, with a big washer and dryer. The dryer was still running, which was probably why the window was open, but it made her nervous. Was there a housekeeper around? That could be a problem. The good news, however, was that either the alarm wasn’t set, or it didn’t include windows, which would be rather pointless. It was also possible that only the upper floors were alarmed, or even the basement. Either way, she’d found her way in. Pulling the knife from her boot, she quickly slit the screen all the way across, then put the knife away. With her gloved hand, she reached through the narrow opening, pushed the window higher, and felt around for a lock. It was a deadbolt with a thumb turn. A double key would have been more secure, but most up-todate building codes required the thumb turn for safe emergency egress. Good for them, better for her. She turned the lock slowly and quietly, then twisted the doorknob, and she was inside. This was far too easy. Cyn didn’t believe in easy, but she heightened her awareness and kept going. Slipping a glove off, she pulled her sleeve over her hand and felt the dryer as she went by. It was cool, and the selector was set on the wrinkle-free setting, which meant it could have been running on its own for an hour or more. She pulled her glove back on and walked over to the door,

which was opened to a hallway. She listened at the door first, then leaned just her head out, looking first one way, then the other. The kitchen was visible to her right, and then the den, and a formal dining room. To her left, down a long hallway, was the front door. Just before that was a stairway going up, and underneath the stairs was a door that probably led to the basement. She paused to listen. There were still no sounds from either inside or outside the house. At this point, Cyn took a leap of faith and confronted what she considered to be the weakest part of her plan. Nick had said she was some sort of magic detector, and Raphael hadn’t denied it. She still had trouble with the whole magic thing, but if they were right, then Marshall’s room full o’ magic should ping on her senses. The problem was, she’d never done anything like this before, and didn’t know how to turn on her magic detector. Feeling rather stupid, she took a step into the hallway and shook out her arms. She was more into exercise and weights than yoga, but as she stood there in the silent house, she did her best to enter into a meditative state, trying to clear her mind and open up to . . . whatever. Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed the hour, which harshed her Zen, but once her heart settled back into a regular rhythm, she tried again. When it came, she first dismissed it as a cool breeze from the window behind her, but she quickly realized it wasn’t coming from her back. Then she thought maybe the air conditioning had kicked on, but the weather wasn’t hot enough for a/c, and she couldn’t hear any movement of air through vents, or the sound of a compressor. She frowned slightly. The sensation was interesting, if somewhat odd. She’d certainly never felt anything like it around Raphael, but maybe her magic senses had been muddled by the intense sexual attraction between them. Or maybe this really wasn’t magic she was feeling at all. Hell, maybe, she was coming down with a cold. With no other clues, however, she followed that cold feeling to the basement door. Of course. Put the creepy magic stuff in the basement. She took time to study the door before opening it. If Marshall was going to secure anything, it would be his collection. Finding no obvious signs of an alarm, she slowly opened the door, then just stood there for a moment looking downward and listening with all of her senses. A light had come on, showing a set of stairs that

was a lot nicer than the usual damp concrete things you saw in the movies. Cyn wasn’t all that familiar with basements, having never lived in a house that had one. California didn’t have basements for the most part, and the young ladies at the school she’d attended in were not permitted to venture to the basement. But these stairs were a dark, polished wood, as good as anything you’d see in the main part of house. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. It made sense that Marshall would finish his basement nicely if he was going to keep his very expensive magic collection down there. You wouldn’t exactly put a few million dollars’ worth of artifacts next to the water heater in a moldy basement. With the first step she took beyond the door, the sensation of cold grew stronger. This wasn’t the naturally occurring colder air of a basement, this was far more sinister. It was as if something was reaching right into her chest, something ice cold and vaguely malevolent. Her frown deepened. Who knew what kind of devices Marshall had down there? The manacles were certainly bad, but she could imagine all kinds of awful things that were far worse. She didn’t want to go any farther, but she had to. She unsnapped the safety strap on her holster, slung her backpack over one shoulder, and tightened her grip on it, then headed downstairs. The motion-activated lights snapped on progressively as she went downward. By the time she stepped onto the basement floor, the room was fully lit. More than anything, it resembled a so-called man cave—big leather furniture around a heavy coffee table and a huge screen on the opposite wall. Beyond that was a pool table to one side, and beyond that. . . . Beyond that was what Cyn was looking for. By now, that cold feeling was like a sharp blade of ice stuck in her chest, drawing her closer. Whatever was in that room wanted her to find it. She shivered. This wasn’t the manacles she was feeling. She’d touched the manacles in Hawaii, and now that she thought about it . . . yeah, they’d been oddly cold. But she’d been so busy getting them off Raphael, and then everything that had followed, that she hadn’t made the connection before now. But it hardly mattered, because this new feeling was like the manacles times a thousand. If she’d been reluctant before, she really didn’t want to venture any closer now. She sighed, knowing she had to do it, had to see what was in there, to see if it was what they were looking for.

With determined strides, she walked over, did a quick scan of the door for obvious alarms or traps, then turned the knob and stepped inside. Marshall’s collection looked more like a very fine curio shop than a dangerous and valuable assortment of magical artifacts. The room was not that large, maybe twenty by twelve feet with a twelve-foot ceiling. Glass and steel shelves lined the walls, with several waist-high glass cases set up in the middle of the room. There seemed to be a climate control system inside that was separate from the rest of the house. The air was dryer and much cooler than the rest of the basement had been. But it wasn’t the cool air that sent chills shivering up and down her arms, it was the stuff sitting on the shelves all around her. Maybe not all of it, maybe not even most of it, but somewhere in that collection was something evil. Oddly, the concept of evil was something Cyn had never really bought into. To her mind, evil was something concocted by people to justify their own ambitions or sick needs. But as she stood there in that sterile room, she believed for the first time in the existence of true evil, and she felt tainted just by being there. Fighting the nausea roiling her gut, rubbing her arms against the chill, she was suddenly glad for the long-sleeved jacket and gloves which protected her bare skin from whatever lingered in that room. “Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Let’s just find the damn manacles and get out of here.” She began a methodical search, starting with the shelves nearest the door on her left and going around the room. It took longer than she’d expected. The displays were five shelves high and a yard or so wide, with every shelf eighteen inches deep and packed with . . . stuff. Some of the items were recognizable. Not that they looked magical—whatever that meant—but they were in recognizable forms. There was more than one crystal ball, which was almost a cliché, and several different pieces of jewelry. There were also any number of boxes— wooden, stone, lacquered, jeweled—you name it, there was at least one box made of it. There were obvious weapons, daggers or knives mostly, and a few bigger blades, as well. But then there were the odd pieces, the ones that defied description. She might have expected those to give off the most dangerous vibe, but that wasn’t the case. In fact, once she stopped and focused her supposed talent, it was clear that the most dangerous pieces were those in the display cases

in the middle of the room. “Nice of him to sort it for me,” she muttered, wondering what kind of person would spend time and money on a collection like this. How did he know what this stuff did anyway? Maybe he was a magic detector, like her. That wasn’t a pleasant thought. She trailed her fingers over the glass of the display cases, feeling the chill through her leather glove. She was cruising along, pausing whenever something caught her eye, when she was abruptly struck by a sudden sense of urgency. The house was still quiet, but she had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to stay that way much longer. Or maybe it was just her subconscious mind warning her to get the fuck out of there. Either way it was time to find the manacles and leave. She picked up the pace. She’d reached the final display case, which ran the width of the room at the back, and had just about resigned herself to the possibility that Marshall hadn’t added the manacles to his collection yet, when she spied them in the middle of a group of decorative bracelets. She’d been a little worried that she wouldn’t recognize them when the time came. She’d only seen them that once, and ittedly her attention had been elsewhere. But there was no doubt in her mind now. They lay in the center of the case, and she knew if she touched them with her bare hand, she’d find them slimy and cold, just as they’d been when she took them off Raphael back in Hawaii. Scanning the edges of the case, she searched for a lock or hinge, but didn’t see anything obvious. Marshall wouldn’t have locked himself out of his own collection, so there had to be a way. But time was running out, and she didn’t give a fuck about Marshall. So with a quick glance at the still-open door, she pulled out her gun and, turning her face aside, slammed the butt of the weapon against the top of the case, shattering the glass and scattering shards all over the contents. Cyn was sure Nick would have a field day in this room and would probably castigate her later on for not grabbing whatever she could carry, but she was only after one thing. Let Nick do his own breaking and entering. Their deal—hers and Raphael’s—was for the manacles, and that’s what she’d deliver. Scooping them up with one hand, she swung her backpack off her shoulder with

the other, and was about to slip them inside when a voice interrupted her. “You should really wrap those in silk. Magic is a tricky thing.” Cyn spun around to see Isaac Marshall standing in the doorway, looking smug and proper in a three-piece suit. He smiled. “Cynthia Leighton, if I’m not mistaken,” he said. “A vampire lord’s mate. You’re going to be my best acquisition yet.” She stared. Fuck that. The Glock was still in her hand. In a single move, she spun the weapon into firing position and pulled the trigger. But not fast enough. The bullets pinged off the inside of the closed door, followed by the unhappy sound of a heavy bolt being thrown. “Well, shit,” she muttered. Raphael was not going to be happy about this. Her only consolation was that Isaac Marshall would get what was coming to him once Raphael got hold of him. Creepy fucker thought having all this magical crap made him more than he was? He was about to discover just how insignificant one human could be in the face of a very pissed-off vampire lord.

RAPHAEL WOKE IN a fury. He didn’t know whom he was more angry with— Isaac Marshall, who’d dared to imprison his Cyn, or Cyn herself, who’d gone off on her own this morning despite his ordering her not to. He swore to himself this was the last time this was going to happen. From now on, he was locking the damn vault door and not giving her the exit code. He picked up his cell phone and called Steve Sipes. “My lord, I take full responsibility—” “Don’t bother. We both know she’d have figured out another way to do whatever she wanted. She took one of the SUVs?” “Yes, my lord. Early this morning. She said she was having lunch with a friend in New Jersey.” Raphael made a rude noise. “Well, at least this way she has a vehicle we can

track.” “Yes, my lord. I’m sending the GPS and address to your phone. The residence is owned by Isaac and Georgia Marshall.” “Send that information to Juro, as well. We’ll be down shortly.” Raphael disconnected and tossed the phone onto the side table as he climbed out of bed. He headed for the closet to get dressed, but first he took a moment to calm his mind and reach out to Cyn. She was the most courageous human he’d ever met, but she hated being helpless. And even though he was angry that she’d defied him, he didn’t want her to be afraid. She needed to know he was on his way, because nothing and no one would ever stop him from reaching her. Banishing the anger from his thoughts—Cyn would know he was pissed, he wouldn’t need to share that emotion with her—he reached out to her. There was no bond on earth stronger than that between a vampire lord and his mate, especially not when he was the lord in question. “Lubimaya,” he murmured in his thoughts. “Raphael,” she responded, and he could hear the relief in her thoughts, could feel the depth of that emotion. “I’m coming,” he said simply. Their bond was unshakeable, but it was better at conveying general thoughts and emotion, rather than words. “Cold,” she responded, which made him frown. What did that mean? “Cyn,” he called, but there was no answer. She was still there. He could feel her life force, could almost reach out and touch the bond between them. If she could have responded, she would have, which meant . . . A string of the filthiest Russian curses left his mouth as he raced to get dressed, grabbing up his cell phone at the same time. He punched in redial with one hand. “My lord?” “I want the remaining SUV programmed with those coordinates. Did you talk to Juro yet?”

“He’s on his way down now, my lord.” “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” “Yes, my—” Raphael hung up before Sipes finished and punched Juro’s speed dial on his cell phone. “My lord,” Juro’s deep voice greeted. “I’m on my way to the garage.” “Five minutes. Sipes has the coordinates, and I’ll call that damn sorcerer. Let him be useful for a change.” He hung up without waiting for a response, drawing on his vampire speed to dress faster. Cyn was waiting for him.

NICK WAS TURNING down the street in front of the vampire’s townhouse when his cell phone rang. He did a double take when he recognized the number. Raphael was literally the last person he’d ever thought to hear from. He’d expected Cyn to call, but not the vampire. The significance of that struck him suddenly. “Damn it, Cyn,” he whispered and changed directions, heading down the alley behind the townhouse instead. “I’m outside your garage,” he said, by way of answering the call. “What’s going on?” As if in answer to his question, the nearest garage door rolled up to reveal Raphael striding toward him, with vampires swarming all around. He would have rolled his eyes at the spectacle, except that he didn’t see Cyn anywhere in the mix. Leaving the Ferrari running, he stepped out of the car and stood there, holding on to the door. “Where’s Cyn?” he asked, the only question he really cared about. “She went to Marshall’s,” Raphael said tightly. “You can follow us in your car, or me in the SUV. I don’t care which, but you have two minutes.” “I’ll you. Open the other garage, so I can park this thing.” Raphael snorted a response, but signaled one of his people. The closed door

rolled up, and Nick zipped the Ferrari into the spot. A human male was waiting when he got out of the car. He tossed the man his keys and climbed into the back seat of the SUV next to the vampire, noting the huge bodyguard in the front enger seat, not to mention the three other vamps riding with them, two in the third row and one driving. They sped out of the garage almost before his door was shut. This was going to be fun. Only for Cyn would he do this. “So where is she?” he asked, trying to be casual and knowing he wasn’t succeeding. He was far more capable than most humans, but even he couldn’t hide his emotions from a vampire as powerful as Raphael. “Inside Marshall’s house,” the vampire said shortly. “That’s all I know.” Nick cursed. “Why—” “Why is not important. What matters is that she’s there, and she’s in trouble.” “She called you?” Nick asked intently. “She is my mate,” Raphael said, as if expecting everyone to understand what the fuck that meant. Except that Nick did understand. Vampires and their mates had a weird telepathic connection. Something to do with the blood. And for someone like Raphael? With Cyn as his mate? It must be almost like talking on the phone. “What happened?” The vampire’s jaw flexed visibly, his expression revealing anger . . . and something else. Fear? What the hell? “Is she hurt?” Nick demanded. “Did Marshall—” “Tell me about this Marshall,” Raphael interrupted. “I’m not worried about him, he’s a normal human. But I’ve tapped every source I could find and no one can tell me what all he’s managed to collect in there. Tell me what happened to Cyn.” Raphael glared at him in the dark car. Both of them had superior night vision, and they could see each other clearly. Nick was sure the vampire intended him to be intimidated by that glare, to bow and scrape like everyone else did around

him, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was no vampire minion or terrified human. “Tell me,” he demanded again. “I can’t help her if I don’t understand.” The vampire looked like he’d eaten something sour, but finally he said, “I believe Marshall has her trapped somewhere inside his house.” His eyes closed briefly, his face revealing the first true emotion, other than anger, that Nick had ever seen from him. “The last thing she said to me,” the vampire nearly whispered, “was that she was cold.” “Cold,” Nick repeated, thinking. “Damn.” “What?” Raphael ground out. “Fucking Marshall’s playing with things he doesn’t understand. I bet he’s shoved his entire collection into a single room so he can ire it better. But some things shouldn’t be allowed to mingle. They’ll react off of each other, feed each other. And Cyn’s wide open to that.” “What will it do to her?” “Nothing if we get to her fast enough.” The vampire didn’t say a word to that, but Nick felt their SUV suddenly speed up. “Before we go in there,” he said tentatively, “you need to know that there were objects created in the war between our people. Things intended to strip vampires of their power.” “You mean to enslave us,” Raphael said bitterly. “That, too,” Nick agreed. “But not all of them. Some were designed only to rip away your power and leave you helpless.” “Your point?” Raphael demanded. Nick could feel the hatred rolling off of the vampire and knew he was in greater danger than he’d been in a very long time. “My point,” he said carefully, “is that Marshall might have one or more of those devices. If he knows who Cyn is— and he might, you’re not exactly unknown in certain circles—he’ll know you’ll come for her. You’re the ultimate collectible, Raphael. A matched pair for his collection, a vampire lord and his mate.”

“You think he can overpower me?” There was more than a little arrogance in that question. “I think Mathilde did,” Nick said, taking his life in his hands. “And Marshall has the manacles.” “He also has my Cyn,” he growled. Nick nodded. “I love her, too, vampire. Not like you do,” he was quick to add, when Raphael bared his fangs in a snarl. “But I’ll do whatever I can to see her safe.” Raphael grunted his agreement, turning to look out the window as the SUV swerved off the parkway and onto surface streets. It wouldn’t be long now. He could almost feel sorry for Isaac Marshall. Hell was about to descend upon him. And he was just an ordinary human with a lot of expensive toys.

Chapter Eight

CYN SAT ON THE floor of the vault, her head hanging low as she leaned forward over her legs, which were crossed yoga style in front of her. Talking mind-to-mind with Raphael had been exhausting. It seemed to have drained what little warmth she’d retained, leaving her colder than she could ever being. But even her muddled brain understood that this wasn’t an ordinary kind of cold. It was like having a block of ice lodged in her chest, freezing her from the inside out. A fire could have been burning right in front of her, and it wouldn’t have made any difference. She was tempted to try anyway. There were matches in her backpack. But Marshall’s stupid room was filled with nothing but glass and steel, and she wasn’t foolish enough to try burning any of the wooden magical artifacts. Who knew what sort of hellish reaction that would create? But even as the cold deepened with every minute, her mind was raging. She was so angry. Angry at herself, first of all, for being stupid enough to get caught. She’d let that asshole Marshall walk right up behind her. But even more, she was angry at Marshall for thinking he could add her to his collection like one of his crystal balls. She was also scared and not afraid to it it. Not at the possibility that Marshall would actually manage to keep her contained. She never doubted that she’d be breaking out of here soon enough, by either her own efforts or Raphael’s. He’d tear down the building if that’s what it took to free her. What scared her was how long she might have to be trapped in here before that happened, because some of the things that were locked in here with her were bound to be malicious. She couldn’t forget that strong stench of evil she’d picked up earlier. Who knew what that was coming from, or what it could do? She couldn’t take the chance. She had to move while she still could, had to break whatever spell, or artifact, or whatever the hell was working on her, trying to freeze her in place, and she had to do it now. Before whatever Marshall had planned for her became a reality. “You don’t know who you’re m-messing with,” she muttered, hearing her words stutter through chattering teeth.

“Oh, I think I do,” Marshall’s smug voice answered. Cyn’s eyes shot open in surprise. She could see the closed door from where she sat. He wasn’t inside the room with her, which meant the freak was listening, maybe watching her. She wanted to taunt him, wanted to tell him Raphael was coming, and that he’d be sorry. But she didn’t want to give him any warning. So, she ignored him, focusing her energy instead on freeing herself. She lowered her gaze enough to see that she still held her Glock. If she could only get her fingers to move, she could simply start shooting. Even from her position on the floor, she’d hit something on the shelves, something she was sure Marshall wouldn’t want to lose. Maybe something that didn’t react well to being shot. That was a risk, but one she was willing to take. Because Marshall would have to open the door to stop her. And once the door opened . . . she was pretty sure that action alone would break whatever hold the room seemed to have on her. Like cracking a seal, or rupturing a spell. She didn’t know anything about spells, but that imagery made sense to her. Of course, there was also the possibility that Marshall would come in shooting, but she had absolutely no doubt that she was the better shot. A long sigh escaped her lips. Despite her body telling her that the air was freezing, her warm breath was invisible, which only confirmed her belief that this paralyzing cold was unnatural, something other than physical. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her right hand, the one that held the gun. She forgot her aching chest, the cramps in her thighs, the fear choking her throat. Everything came down to her right hand. Her finger twitched. She wanted to shout out loud in triumph, but even if she could have, she wouldn’t have wasted the breath. It happened again, one finger curling into her palm, and then another. She smiled. Isaac Marshall thought he’d already won. Boy, was he going to be surprised.

RAPHAEL WAS PURE rage by the time they approached Marshall’s address. It was only by sheer force of will that he didn’t tear the door off the SUV and storm his way into the house, killing everything and everyone who stood in his way. He could sense Cyn getting closer with every minute, could feel the very

beat of her heart. But there was something else at work, something that kept him from using his telepathy to touch her mind. He was one of the most powerful telepaths on earth, and she was his mate. What kind of magical device did Marshall own that he could block him from reaching her? “You’re certain Marshall has no power of his own,” he confirmed tightly, his gaze riveted on the very conventional two-story house that came into view. “None,” the sorcerer said. “But I’d wager he doesn’t know half of what his collection can do. His ignorance is more dangerous than if he did have power of his own.” Raphael absorbed the words, but had no comment. It was the damn sorcerer’s fault they were here in the first place. If anything happened to his Cyn, the fucker would be the first to die. “Do I stop, my lord?” his vampire driver asked. The gate was flimsy. They could simply blow through it and be done with it. “A stealthy approach would be better, Sire.” Juro’s deep voice rumbled from the front enger seat. He was the only one in the vehicle who’d been with Raphael long enough to tender advice without being asked. And he was right. “There’s a guard at the gate. Persuade him,” Raphael told the driver. The ability to manipulate the thoughts of ordinary humans was a skill possessed by every member of his security team. It would take precious minutes, but there would be no warning for Isaac Marshall. The driver nodded and made the turn, stopping in front of the gates and rolling down his window to speak to the lone guard. Raphael didn’t listen to what he said; it didn’t matter. He focused his energy instead on seeking out the woman who held his heart and soul in her slender hands. She was there, and she was not. That damn barrier of ice still stood between them, but there were fissures in the wall, and he smiled proudly. His Cyn was not so easily contained. He glanced up as the wrought-iron gate glided open, and they rolled up to the house. There were no lights in the upstairs windows, and only a pale gleam from downstairs. That argued for Marshall being alone in there, but rather than leave it

to guesswork, Raphael drew on his powers and searched the house for signs of life. It was a quick task. The house wasn’t that large and it was mostly empty. “Two humans in the house. One is my Cyn, the other . . . it doesn’t matter who it is. If they’re between me and my mate, they’ll die.” Next to him, the sorcerer remained very quiet. Raphael didn’t trust him, but he would use him to save Cyn. He was out of the SUV before it was fully stopped. Juro jumped out ahead of him and, placing his bulk in front of Raphael, grabbed the front door knob and twisted. The sound of the shattering lock was buried under the scream of an alarm system. Before Raphael could do anything about the alarm, he felt a wave of magic roll over him and the alarm cut off. He spun to see Katsaros moving his hand as if writing on the air. Fucking sorcerer. But in this case, it served his purpose, so he gave a sharp nod and entered the dark house, his senses wide open, searching. “The basement,” he said and started down the hall, scanning for the right door. “Here.” He pulled the door open before Juro could stop him, but he’d barely taken a single step when the air filled with Cyn’s furious scream.

CYN SQUEEZED THE trigger on her Glock. Once, twice. It took far more effort than it should have, but the results were magnificent. Glass shattered and metal crashed as her bullets took out stainless steel s, and five shelves of glass and magical crap smashed to the ground. Almost immediately, something changed in the atmosphere of the room, and she found she could lift her Glock a little farther. She shifted her aim and fired a second time, two rounds into the shelf next to the one that lay in a pile on the floor. The hidden speaker gave an electronic squeal, and then Marshall’s voice came over it. “You bitch! Do you know what you’ve done? I’ll kill you,” he sputtered, and the next thing she knew, the door was opening and the spell holding her frozen lifted. Blood roared through her veins, powered by Raphael’s rage. He was close. He was here. But so was Isaac Marshall. She stood and spun to face the door. Her limbs were clumsy and reluctant, but once more hers to control, as Marshall stormed into the room, a big Dirty Harrystyle .44 Magnum held in his two pale hands. He swung the weapon in her

direction, but he was far too slow. With a defiant scream, Cyn raised her Glock and started firing. Five bullets, center mass, in a nice cluster. She took a moment to ire her work, before collapsing to the floor. “Cyn.” Raphael was there a moment later, scooping her cold body into his strong arms, crushing her against his chest. “You’re freezing.” She smiled weakly. “I know. But it’s not real.” He gave her a look that doubted her sanity, but he didn’t waste any time discussing it. With Juro leading the way, he carried her out of that cursed room, past Isaac Marshall’s bloody corpse, and into the main room of the basement, where she was shocked to find Nick waiting for them. He cast a worried look her way, his gaze scanning her from head to toe. “Cyn,” he said, then turned his attention to Raphael instead. “Let me scan her. Just to be certain he didn’t do anything.” Cyn felt almost drunk as warmth seeped back into her body, fueled by the energy Raphael was feeding her, like a transfusion of hot blood coursing through her veins. “I’m okay,” she said, practically slurring the words. “It was just all that stuff.” “Raphael,” Nick repeated. Her sluggish brain noted the intensity in his voice. Which was weird, she thought. Nick was usually such a playful guy. But wait. She frowned. Nick wasn’t Nick at all. He was a sorcerer, and that’s why . . . oh, right. “They’re in there,” she said, having to really focus to put the words together. She flopped a hand in the general direction of the other room. “I can show you.” She grabbed Raphael’s shoulders, as if to brace herself to stand, but Raphael and Nick both protested at once. She started laughing. She’d done all of this because those two couldn’t get along. And here they both were, working together. She was fucking incredible. “I’m taking her out of here,” Raphael growled, then paused. “You can scan her later.” She saw Nick nod, then glance in the direction of the magical collection. “I can’t

leave all of that to fall into the wrong hands. Marshall’s dead. There’s no telling what his heirs will do, or who’ll learn of his death and come after what’s in there.” Her entire body moved as Raphael shrugged. “Take what you want, destroy the rest. I don’t care. But you have ten minutes to decide.” Nick shook his head. “That’s not enough time. Go ahead. Take Cyn home. I’ll call a car when I’m finished and get back to the city on my own.” “And Cyn?” Raphael asked. “I’ll take care of her—” “She is mine to take care of, sorcerer. Don’t forget that.” Nick shook his head. “She’s yours. But I love her, too,” he added, almost angrily. “Get her out of this place, and I’ll take care—” His lips tightened with irritation. “I’ll scan to make sure she’s okay before you leave.” Raphael nodded sharply, but Cyn just put her head on his shoulder and went to sleep.

RAPHAEL CARRIED CYN up the stairs, fighting against the urge to hold on to her so tightly that it would hurt. He needed to feed her, to let the magic of his blood wash away the poisonous taint that Marshall had exposed her to by trapping her in that room. Even he knew that the man had been a fool to confine all of those artifacts in a single room. And then, to trap Cyn in there, with her sensitivity to magic. She would have been like a sponge soaking up all of the stray energy coiled in that prison. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that much. He wasn’t a sorcerer, but he was a creature of magic, and he knew it when he felt it. Striding over to the SUV, he climbed into the back seat with Cyn in his arms. Juro stood guard outside the open door as Raphael lifted his wrist to his mouth and sliced into his vein. Blood welled instantly, hot and dark red against his skin. “Drink, lubimaya,” he murmured, and held his wrist to her pale lips. She smiled in her sleep, and his heart wrenched. He loved her so much. “Drink,” he repeated

and twisted his wrist to spill a few drops into her mouth. She swallowed instinctively, gasped, then made a hungry, growling sort of noise that made him smile as she grabbed his wrist and latched on. Every pull of her mouth as she drank from him squeezed his heart. He lowered his forehead to touch hers, listening to the small sounds she made as she sucked his blood, drawing strength with every mouthful. “My Cyn,” he whispered. She was safe, she was his. And she was stronger than anyone knew. She hadn’t needed him to escape that place. But rather than making him angry, it only made him proud. Proud that such a woman was his, that she loved him the way he did her. And that she needed him now. It was enough. It was more than he’d ever thought to find. “The sorcerer,” Juro said quietly. Raphael lifted his head. Cyn’s sucking had slowed, becoming more comfort than need. She moved his wrist away so she could lick the trail of blood from his skin, making sounds of pleasure deep in her throat that were making him hard. She shifted suddenly, pressing her breasts against his chest and stroking the straining erection beneath the thick denim of his jeans. Shit. He needed to get her back to the city right now. Juro moved and the sorcerer appeared in the open car door. “How is she?” “Recovering,” Raphael managed to growl. He leaned into the car, and Raphael knew the moment he saw the blood. “Oh,” he said softly. “That’s good. Can I—” “Do what you need to. But if you hurt her, you die.” The sorcerer gave him a look so filled with hatred that Raphael actually found it reassuring. He could deal with Nick Katsaros’s hatred. It was honest, at least. “Hold her,” Nick said. Raphael wanted to point out that that was exactly what he was doing, but he understood what the sorcerer meant. He tightened his grip on Cyn, both physically and mentally, anchoring her to him with the strength of the mate bond. The sorcerer held out his hand and Raphael braced himself.

He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t the wave of warmth that ed over and through him in a soothing caress. His eyes were on Cyn so he knew the moment she felt it, and in that moment, Raphael was so overwhelmed by raw possessiveness that he nearly struck without thinking. It took every ounce of his formidable will, of a self-control honed over nearly five centuries, for him to rein in the lash of power that would have reduced the sorcerer to a fine dust. It was only Cyn’s soft cry that finally cut through the killing instinct and focused his attention on her instead. “Raphael?” She opened her eyes and reached up to touch his face, her fingers stroking his cheek as if he was the one who needed soothing. “Lubimaya,” he said, not even trying to hide the concern he’d been feeling. She smiled, or tried to. “I shot him,” she said proudly. “You did,” he agreed, smiling back at her. “She’s fine,” Katsaros said, then repeated it to Cyn. “You’re right as rain, darling.” She briefly shared her smile with the sorcerer, but when she looked back at Raphael, her expression had sobered. “He wanted to add me to his collection, to keep me in that room like a stuffed doll. Fucker. I showed him.” Raphael’s rage was too close to the surface to conceal. He really needed to kill someone before this night was over, but the sorcerer had disappeared back into the house, and unfortunately, Marshall was already dead. Too bad, that. He could have made the man’s death last for days. Cyn gripped his hand hard enough to hurt, holding his gaze when his eyes focused on her, forcing him to remain rooted to the here and now. “I never liked dolls,” she told him intently. “Can we go home now?” he asked her. “Please,” she breathed, and her eyes closed. But it was simple exhaustion this time. Settling more securely on the seat, he nodded at Juro who closed the door, then signaled for the rest of Raphael’s vampires. The two who’d been in the third row on the drive out climbed in through the cargo hatch to avoid discomfiting

him and Cyn, while the driver slid behind the wheel and started the engine almost before Juro had finished giving the order. “What about the sorcerer, my lord?” Juro asked, glancing over his shoulder. “He’s staying to inventory Marshall’s collection,” Raphael replied. “He’ll call a car when he’s ready.” Juro nodded without comment, and a moment later, they were on their way back to Manhattan.

Chapter Nine

Manhattan, New York City, New York

NICK SHOWED UP the next night without warning. He must have been waiting outside for the lights to come on, or maybe he had some sorcerer’s trick that told him when warm bodies were moving about, because he rang the doorbell only minutes after she and Raphael had come downstairs. Everyone was hustling, because they were flying out later that night. Raphael wanted to get home with her, and she was one hundred percent behind that idea. She was more freaked out than she wanted to it by Marshall’s determination to make her part of his collection. She’d known the guy was out there sexually, but nothing in her research had indicated he was batshit crazy. She’d woken several times during the last hours of the night, torn out of an exhausted sleep by nightmares of being trapped in her own body and shivering with cold. Raphael had been there every time, pulling her close and holding her until she fell asleep again. But maybe the worst part of the whole mess was . . . no shopping. It had broken her avaricious little heart, but it had been her idea to cancel the outing with Sarah. She loved shopping, but all she really wanted to do tonight was go home. And now Nick was here for what was probably going to be yet another dickmeasuring contest between him and Raphael. Forget the fact that they’d had a small rapprochement at Marshall’s house last night. That was ancient history. She sighed as Juro opened the door wide to it him, after first checking with Raphael. Nick looked good in his low-riding 501s and a leather jacket over a designer Tshirt. But then he always looked good, and now she understood why. Sure, part of it was just good genes and probably a lot of gym work, but the other part was his magic keeping him young and handsome forever. Or however long a sorcerer lived. She hadn’t asked, and doubted she’d get a straightforward answer if she

did. He walked into the living room, his gaze skimming over her where she sat on the couch, then went directly to Raphael who was standing next to her. “Vampire,” he said, by way of greeting. “Sorcerer.” “Human!” she sang out in disgust. Both of them turned to look at her. “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” she continued in a singsong voice. Raphael’s mouth curved into a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He knew she wasn’t fine, but he’d never it that to Nick. In his mind, it was none of Nick’s business. And, in this case, she agreed with him. Nick returned his attention to Raphael. “I figured you’d be leaving soon and thought you’d probably find this interesting.” He handed over a piece of paper, which Raphael scanned before holding it out to Cyn. It was a printed copy of an online news report from some local Dobbs Ferry website. The kind that kept track of the police blotter and the local high school football team. But this morning, they had far juicier news to report on. It seemed a local resident, the highly respected and connected, i.e., rich, Isaac Marshall had died the night before in an explosion at his home in Dobbs Ferry. There was no official police statement, but an “inside source” at the police department reported finding indications that the explosion had been intentional. Yet another source—sources did love to gossip—reported that Marshall and his wife had been engaged in an ugly divorce battle, with Marshall vowing he’d burn the house to the ground before letting her have it. Cyn shook her head in amazement. She held up the printed article. “Your doing?” she asked Nick. He nodded. “The divorce part is real. My people turned up a filing from just a week ago.” “I didn’t find anything about that,” she said somewhat suspiciously.

“Don’t feel bad, darling,” he teased. “They wanted it discreet, and Marshall knew enough judges that he could keep it that way. As for the explosion . . . I might have had a hand in that.” “And all that magic crap he’d collected?” she asked, pretending like she didn’t care, like that damn room wouldn’t be starring in her nightmares for weeks to come. Raphael reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers in reassurance. “The magical crap has been dealt with,” Nick told her, his lips tipping up slightly in amusement. “What could be destroyed safely was taken care of on the scene. The rest was moved to my home vault. It will be safe there.” “Safe for whom?” Raphael demanded. Nick didn’t respond directly, saying instead, “You’ll be happy to know the manacles were there—” “I told you I saw them,” Cyn muttered. “—and they’ve been destroyed.” “How’d you manage to do that?” she asked. “I made them. I could unmake them.” No one spoke for a moment, until Nick said, “Cyn, could I have a moment?” Raphael’s fingers squeezed her hand reflexively, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She didn’t say anything, just used his strength to pull herself to her feet. “Sure,” she told Nick. “Give me a minute.” Nick nodded his understanding. “I’ll meet you outside.” Raphael had stiffened at her response, and once Nick had left the room, he stared down at her wordlessly. “Do you trust me?” she asked him quietly. “Yes.” Immediate and unequivocal.

“He’s a friend, and he’s troubled. Besides, you and I both know your vampires are lurking in the shadows out there.” His fingers skimmed up her back to grip her hair, pulling her head back as he brought his lips down to hers in a bruising kiss. “Just to whom you belong,” “I love you, too, fang boy.” He swatted her butt. “Make it short. We’re leaving in ten minutes if I have to throw you over my shoulder to do it.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, master,” she said, laughing at his scowl as she opened the front door. Nick was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against his red Ferrari as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Did you know,” he said as she stepped off the bottom stair and walked over to him, “that there are vampires lurking around your front door?” “One or two,” she agreed, smiling. “Four, actually.” She shrugged. She wasn’t going to play judge in the dick-measuring contest. “What’s really going on, Nick?” “What do you mean?” he asked a little defensively. “I mean you didn’t need me, didn’t need us, to recover those manacles for you. Marshall was nothing, nobody. I managed to take him out, for God’s sake, and you claim to be some big sorcerer. What was it you told me? You were a god, with armies in the thousands. But you couldn’t deal with a tubby financial guy with delusions?” “It’s not that simple.” “Yeah, well, I can handle complicated if you use small words.” “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. It’s complicated because . . .” He

paused and looked away from her, staring sightlessly down the nearly empty street for a long time. “When I first examined the spell that my enemy, Sotiris, used to curse my warriors, there was something familiar about it, as if the magic was my own. But that made no sense. I knew what he’d done; I knew how he’d done it. But still, I couldn’t escape that lingering sense of familiarity. So, rather than casting my own spell immediately, the one that would follow my warriors into the mists of time, I stayed long enough to investigate. And what I found . . . the magic of his spell felt familiar because it was my own. He’d collected every artifact I’d ever created and discarded, devices crafted as gifts for those who served me well, or simply as toys for my own entertainment. In my arrogance, I’d never bothered to keep track of them, leaving them scattered throughout the realms. But Sotiris did. Just as he knew he couldn’t triumph over me one-on-one, he knew he didn’t have the power to steal my warriors from me in a single blow the way he’d need to in order to finally defeat me. So he gathered those artifacts and drained their power—my power—saving it up and harnessing it against me. “I’m responsible for every day my brothers have spent trapped in their stone prisons. It was my power that made those hellish curses possible. So, even as I’ve made their freedom the very purpose of my existence, I’ve also set out to find and destroy every single artifact I’ve ever created. Never again will anyone use my own power against those few people I truly love.” “I’m sorry,” Cyn said and meant it. She couldn’t imagine what he must have felt, the weight of the guilt piled on top of his grief at losing his men. “But still, why bring us into it? You didn’t need us.” He shook his head. “When I recovered from the spell I cast, the one that brought me forward in time . . .” He frowned and started again. “I patterned that spell on the one that my enemy, Sotiris, used. I hoped that by copying his spell, I’d emerge in the same vicinity, timewise at least, as my four warriors. But I’d no sooner begun to search for them, than my enemy arrived, close on my heels, determined to destroy me before I could find them. We fought, again and again. Time had no meaning as we sifted in and out of the continuum, until finally I realized there was never going to be a clean victory between us. But more importantly, I knew I’d never find my warrior brothers if I spent all of my time and energy trying to destroy my enemy. And so, the next time I cast the spell and emerged into yet another time, I forswore the use of magic, except for the small amount necessary for my safety, and to maintain the search.”

“And to stay young,” she reminded him. He shrugged. “I don’t have to try to do that. It’s simply a part of who I am.” She wanted to make some pithy comment, but Raphael’s patience wasn’t endless, so she said, “How long ago did all of this happen?” “From the first time I cast the spell? A few thousand years?” He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “It was before the advent of recorded history, and I’ve never bothered to count.” Cyn didn’t know how to respond to that. To live for thousands of years alone? No thank you. “You were right,” Nick said suddenly. She gave him a questioning look. “About me not needing you to deal with Marshall. But I’ve grown so used to not using my magic that my first instinct is to pursue other means of getting what I want. In this case, that was you and Raphael. Your skills and his power. But no more. If nothing else, this adventure made me see that I’ve had it wrong all this time.” “How’s that?” “I stood in that room last night, with all of those magical artifacts bouncing energy off one another, just waiting for that one small push that would make the whole lot of them explode . . . and I had an epiphany. All these years I’ve spent searching with no results, and maybe it was because magic was slowly disappearing from the world, hoarded by idiots like Isaac Marshall who have no idea what they’re playing with. But even more, maybe by not using my own magic, I’ve been contributing to the void.” “So . . . you’re going to be magicking all over the place now? Showing up on Ellen and shit?” she asked, only half joking. He gave her that devastating grin. “Maybe not Ellen. I’m a late night kind of guy. But I’ll tell you this much. The next time the earth shakes, it might not be your vampire doing the shaking.”

Cyn winced. “You heard about that?” “Sweetheart, everyone with an ounce of magic heard about that.” “He saved my life.” Nick gave her a look filled with more emotion than she could interpret. “He loves you,” he said finally. “I know.” He laughed softly. “Well, we’d better end this before things get maudlin. You take care, Cyn. And if you ever need me, you call, all right? I’ll always answer.” “Thanks, Nicky,” she said, feeling tears welling in her eyes. She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, then stepped back. He gave her a wink as he straightened away from the car, then walked around to the driver’s side, lowered himself into the seat, and closed the door. A moment later, the engine started with a crackling roar. Cyn backed away to the stairs and stood watching as the powerful sports car prowled to the end of the block, then turned and disappeared from her sight. “He’s gone?” Raphael’s question didn’t even surprise her. She’d known he was there. He walked down the stairs and wrapped her in his arms. “Gone,” she said. “Are we ready?” She didn’t even care that her words were muffled against his chest. “We were just waiting for you.” “Then let’s go home, fang boy.”

Chapter Ten

Pompano Beach, Florida

NICK WALKED INTO his office and shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a chair. The housekeeper would take care of it . . . or not. As long as he could find it when it wanted it, he didn’t care where it resided in the interim. Beyond the big windows, the Florida night beckoned, a lighthouse blinking in the distance. Turning away from the melancholy sight, he crossed to a wall of built-in bookcases. Going directly to a specific shelf, he pushed gently against the back , which popped open to reveal a biometric lock. He pressed his left thumb to the scanner and the adjacent bookcase popped open. Pulling the bookcase all the way outward, he entered the secret room, his sanctum sanctorum. The amber key to the manacles was here, what was left of it. He’d chipped the amber away himself before giving the key to Cyn so that she could free her vampire lord. Not that it mattered anymore. The manacles themselves were gone. He’d destroyed them along with most, though not all, of Marshall’s collection. There’d been a few pieces worth holding on to, especially now that he’d decided to add his magic to the mix. He experienced an unfamiliar buzz of curiosity at the thought of using his magic again. Not only for the inevitable thrill it would give him, but because, for the first time in longer than he could , he couldn’t predict the results. His ability was unique enough to change the entire balance of power in the magical world, and he was . . . excited at the possibilities. Smiling at the thought, he gazed around his vault. The artifacts stored here were the product of centuries of acquisitions, and every one of them was stored far more securely than Marshall’s primitive glass and steel. His hunters continued to bring him items from all over the world. Most he destroyed, but some he kept,

either because he didn’t have the power to destroy them safely, or because he thought they might be useful someday. Evil still existed in the world. It would be unforgivably naïve of him to think otherwise. He walked deeper into the vault, all the way to an alcove in the far corner, where four small statues stood on a shelf that was never without light. Rough-looking, crude, made of little more than compressed sand, the figures represented his four warriors. Sotiris himself had gifted the statues to Nick, not as an aid to his search, but to torment him with the knowledge of what they were suffering, to taunt him. He knew what they looked like and still he couldn’t find them. He reached out and touched them one by one—Damian Stephanos, born of sunlight and shadow. They’d grown up together, and no greater fighter or friend had ever existed. He moved to the next . . . Gabriel Halldor, called by Nick’s magic all the way from the frozen north, a giant of a warrior who’d known nothing but battle his entire life. Nick’s fingers hovered over the third figure, Dragan Fiachna, descended from Irish kings, a beautiful man with more than a little of the beast inside him. And finally, the youngest of them all, Kato Amadi from the hot sands of Africa. His journey to Nick’s side had been long and perilous, but he’d reveled in the bloodshed of the battlefield, in the violence that fed the dark magic that resided deep in his soul. Nick stepped back from the alcove, head bowed, hand over his heart, his thoughts twisting restlessly. When he’d begun this adventure with Cyn and her vampire, he’d anticipated nothing more than a quick bit of thievery, one more artifact destroyed. Not a soul-searching experience that made him re-evaluate his choices for the last two thousand years. He’d lied when he’d told Cyn he couldn’t how old he was. He ed every damn year of it, every moment haunted by the knowledge that his brothers were suffering a far more horrific fate than his own. Trapped in stone for centuries, able to see the world ing by, but never to interact with it, never knowing how much longer their imprisonment would last . . . would they even be sane after all this time? Did it matter? Hell, no. His goal was the same. Find them and free them. Only his methods were about to change. No more hiding in the shadows. He was taking this battle to the enemy.

To be continued. . . .

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Acknowledgments

My first thanks have to go to my editor, Brenda Chin, who makes everything I write better, and who is always there to assure me that I really do know how to write. Thanks also to Deb Dixon and to everyone at BelleBooks who work so hard to get my books out to my readers.

Thank you to my friends and fellow writers, Michelle Muto and Steve McHugh, and to Karen Roma for keeping me and my vampires on track. And my sincere thanks to Angela Addams, another friend and fellow writer, whose has kept me going through some difficult times lately.

A huge thank you to my readers whose enthusiasm makes these books possible and lets me do something I love. I’m a lucky, lucky writer.

And, as always, love and thanks to my family, and especially to my darling husband, because without them nothing else would matter.

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About the Author

D. B. Reynolds arrived in sunny Southern California at an early age, having made the trek across the country from the Midwest in a station wagon with her parents, her many siblings, and the family dog. And while she has many (okay, some) fond memories of Midwestern farm life, she quickly discovered that LA was her kind of town, and grew up happily sunning on the beaches of the South Bay.

D. B. holds graduate degrees in international relations and history from UCLA (go Bruins!) and was headed for a career in academia, but, in a moment of clarity, she left behind the politics of the hallowed halls for the better-paying politics of Hollywood, where she worked as a sound editor for several years, receiving two Emmy nominations, an MPSE Golden Reel and multiple MPSE nominations for her work in television sound.

Book One of her Vampires in America series, RAPHAEL, launched her career as a writer in 2009, while JABRIL, Vampires in America Book Two, was awarded the RT Reviewers Choice Award for Best Paranormal Romance (Small Press) in 2010. ADEN, Vampires in America Book Seven, was her first release under the new ImaJinn imprint at BelleBooks.

D. B. currently lives in a flammable canyon near the Malibu coast with her husband of many years, and when she’s not writing her own books, she can usually be found reading someone else’s. You can visit D. B. at her website, dbreynolds.com, for information on her latest books, contests, and giveaways.