Spectra: A Cynical Superhero 5v2a2g

Spectra

A Cynical Superhero

Amy Sumida

Copyright © 2018 Amy Sumida

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781729078495

Legal Notice

This book is copyright protected. It is only for personal use. You cannot amend, distribute, sell, use, quote, or paraphrase any part of the content within this book without the consent of the author or copyright owner. Legal action will be pursued if this is breached.

More Books by Amy Sumida

The Godhunter Series(in order)

Godhunter Of Gods and Wolves Oathbreaker Marked by Death Green Tea and Black Death A Taste for Blood The Tainted Web

Series Split: These books can be read together or separately Harvest of the Gods & A Fey Harvest Into the Void & Out of the Darkness

Perchance to Die Tracing Thunder Light as a Feather

Rain or Monkeyshine Blood Bound Eye of Re My Soul to Take As the Crow Flies Cry Werewolf Pride Before a Fall Monsoons and Monsters Blessed Death In the Nyx of Time

Beyond the Godhunter A Darker Element Out of the Blue

The Twilight Court Series Fairy-Struck Pixie-Led Raven-Mocking Here there be Dragons Witchbane

Elf-Shot Fairy Rings and Dragon Kings Black-Market Magic Etched in Stone —Completed Series—

The Spellsinger Series The Last Lullaby A Symphony of Sirens Harmony of Hearts Primeval Prelude Ballad of Blood A Deadly Duet

Spectra (Spectra)

Fairy Tales Happily Harem After Vol. 1 Including: The Four Clever Brothers

Wild Wonderland Beauty and the Beasts Pan's Promise The Little Glass Slipper

Other Books

The Magic of Fabric Feeding the Lwas: A Vodou Cookbook There's a Goddess Too The Vampire-Werewolf Complex Enchantress

Special Thanks: To my best friend, Karmen Dinello for checking and correcting my military and forms of address. Thank you for helping me bring my new world to life.

Chapter One

The clicking of my heels echoed like gunshots throughout the empty street. It was a little after midnight, and I was heading home from the corner where my cab had dropped me off. I lived in the Supermarket. No, it's not a grocery store; it's an area of town reserved for supernaturals. Most normal people don't know it exists and can't even see the way in; thus the drop-off point for my cab. However, the U.S. Government is aware of the supermarkets in most of their major cities, but even their highest officials couldn't get past the gates without permission. Every supermarket had an entrance that was protected by a simple misdirection charm; simple but effective. If you weren't a supernatural and you tried to walk into a market without a supe escort, you'd be diverted in a circle and find yourself back where you started.

I was nearly to the elusive Market entrance when a flash of red caught my attention. It wasn't something anyone else could have seen. I'm a unique supernatural with the ability to see and manipulate colors. I see the full spectrum —all spectra, actually—when I focus on it; from ultraviolet to infrared. I can even see auras when I look for them or when they burst into being due to extreme conditions. When something highly emotional happens, it triggers a response in the light wavelengths surrounding a body. Happiness will flare out in pale yellow, love with blushing pink, and violence is usually a shade of red; a dark, dirty red.

The red bursting out of the alley before me was all kinds of dirty.

“Damn it to hell,” I muttered. “I was nearly to the arch.”

I was always on guard when I walked home, but it was more in self-defense than out of any desire to help people. Don't get me wrong; I'm not heartless. I want to help others just as much as the next person. I just know better than to stick my nose into every altercation that I happen across. That being said, this particular altercation looked as if it needed some immediate nosing into.

I clicked my way to the mouth of the alley and peered down it in irritation as I clutched my new Christian Dior saddle bag tightly under my arm. I could hear the muffled sounds of whimpering and the shuffle of bodies pressed tightly together. Despite the thick darkness, I knew exactly where they were. The colors condensed around them; two auras being forced together. And one of them was not happy to be there.

I abhorred rapists.

I blinked to clear my vision as I sighed deeply. Unfortunately, the odor of garbage and urine permeated my breath. You'd think that the alleys of Washington DC would be cleaner, and you'd be wrong.

I coughed delicately from the stench, and the would-be rapist peered over a moldy cardboard box to narrow his vicious stare at me. I instantly saw the dirt in his aura spread and thicken into mud. He lifted his fist to punch the woman beneath him—most likely to disable her while he dealt with me—but before he could land the blow, I blasted him with purple.

The despicable defiler reeled backward; his lust and violence swept away by the sexually dampening color. While he floundered in confusion, I worked the wavelengths around him; twisting and shifting them to create the illusion that his eager appendage—which was sticking straight out of his pants—had fallen off.

I don't care how psychopathic or brutish a man is; make him think that his dick has fallen off, and he'll turn into a puddle of sobbing jelly. This particular jellypuddle screamed as well as sobbed; snatching up the illusion of his severed member to hold to his chest like a baby. The woman scrambled out from beneath him and came stumbling out of the alley; sobbing nearly as much as the man was.

“Thank you!” she cried as she grabbed my arm. “I don't know what you did but —”

“I didn't do anything,” I said meaningfully. “I just startled him. But you're welcome.”

The woman's eyes went wide as she nodded vigorously. “Of course you didn't,” she stammered. “I sure as shit didn't see anything.”

I smiled tightly at her. “Are you all right? Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

“My fucking dick!” The man screamed. “What did you do to me, bitch?”

“Oh, do shut up. Your disgusting manhood is better off without you,” I huffed as I shoved a thicker wave of purple into his brain.

The man fell backward into a heap and started to snore.

“I...” the woman stared from the man to me. “No; I'm okay.”

“I'll call you a taxi then,” I offered as I pulled out my cell phone and dialed. “And then the police.”

A woman answered, and I gave her the address; she informed me that a cab was right around the corner. Good; I wouldn't have to babysit for long.

“Won't I need to give a statement to the Police so they can press charges?” The almost-victim asked.

“That won't be necessary,” I said after I hung up with the taxi company. “I'm confident that as soon as he awakens, the Police will determine that he's unstable and take him swiftly to an insane asylum. Justice has been dispensed; trust me.”

“I... uh, I think they're called mental health facilities now,” she stammered. “Insane asylums are horrors of the past.”

“What a pity,” I murmured as I stared at the living piece of filth in the alley. “He could have done with some horror.”

The woman followed my gaze and her stare hardened. “You're right, and if they're just taking him to the psych ward, you don't mind if I...” She waved her hand toward him.

I lifted a brow and smiled wickedly. “By all means; take your vengeance.”

I called 911 as she stomped back to the man and kicked him in the balls ferociously. He whimpered in his sleep, and I suppressed a chuckle as I was transferred to the police. That pain was going to solidify the illusion I'd left him with. As soon as I was connected to the DC Police, I notified them of the man who was attacking women and then hung up before they could ask for my name.

“Thank you,” the woman said as she straightened her dress. Then she held out her hand, “I'm Mary.”

“Amara,” I said. “And here's your cab.”

I waved down the taxi and saw Mary settled into it. Just before I closed the door, she grabbed my hand.

“You saved my life,” she whispered. “That son of bitch was whispering in my ear the ways he was going to kill me after he raped me. I know I've already said it, but thank you. Thank you for startling him.”

“You're welcome.” I squeezed her hand gently and then looked at the wide-eyed cab driver. “Please see to it that she gets inside her home safely.” I handed him a twenty. “Can you do that?”

“Yes, Ma'am; I'll make sure to see her safe,” he said with all seriousness. “You gonna be okay out here alone?”

“Oh, yes,” I said with a smirk. “I'll be just fine.”

I shut the door and started clicking my way back down the street. As the cab pulled away, Mary's grateful face stared out at me through the window, but then her gaze shifted to my left and widened. She pointed violently, and I swung about; ready to defend myself.

But there was no one there.

I glanced back at the cab in confusion. Mary was staring out of the back window; her expression as confused as mine. I waved her off, but as I did, I searched the area for any color shifts; auras that hadn't been there before. All living things have auras, even plants. So, there were some softly pulsing colors shifting around the trees lining the road, but other than that... wait.

“It can't be,” I whispered in disbelief.

Flares of bright white were emanating over the railing of a flight of concrete steps. The stairs led to an apartment building, but the light came from the hollow on their far side. He must have been ducking quite low in the depression because only the edges of his halo were showing. Yes; I said “halo.” There are three types of supernaturals: Alien Races, Evolved (also know as Mutated), and Transformed (through accident, experiment, or magic spell). The guy hiding so ignobly behind the cement wall was a Triari; one of the first types of supernatural. You may know his kind better as Angels.

Don't get too excited. There are several races who have been greatly misunderstood by humans, and the Triari are at the top of the list. These aliens have nothing to do with God or Heaven; they're just an advanced race with ingenious toys and powerful weaponry. Right beneath them on the Falsely Labeled List are the Bleiten, aka Demons. Triari tend to be the nicer of the two, but not always. In fact, the Triari and the Bleiten have been at each other's throats for years, and neither of them seems to care if their battles bleed onto foreign soil.

Both races are known for their unearthly good looks, but the Bleiten can shift their appearances into something monstrous to intimidate their enemies. The Bleiten-Triari War spread to Earth a few, unforgettable times; leaving its mark on human religions worldwide. The myths of Angels and Demons were born; the Bleiten's brutal battle-forms setting them firmly in the role of villain. Not that it wasn't accurate; the Bleiten are savage killers.

But back to the Triari. To counter the Bleiten battle-forms—many of which included leathery wings—the Triari created battle wings of their own. Those massive, feathered appendages seen in angel paintings everywhere are real, but they are manufactured, not grown. The Host provides each of its soldiers with a pair of feathered, flying devices that meld with the muscles in the shoulders and are controlled via brainwave sensors. The higher ranking the Triari, the nicer the wings he's given. Humans revered the Triari; not just for those awesome flying devices, but also for their beauty, strength, and shining auras—their halos.

The question was; why was an angel following me?

I turned around as if I hadn't seen him and started heading toward the Supermarket again. With my senses on high alert, I could see him coming up behind me; his blinding aura was like a spotlight pointed at my back. In fact,

halos were so bright, that most humans could sense them; they believed it was proof of angelic purity. Purity; what drivel. It couldn't be further from the truth.

Triari soldiers—pretty much the only Triari who came to Earth—were trained to suppress their emotions. This didn't make them unfeeling precisely, just very calm and aloof; the perfect demeanor for battle. Triari soldiers could switch on their emotions as soon as their mission was complete, but when they were on the job, they kept their feelings under wraps. This tight control resulted in an aura that flared white. Allow me to explain; you may have heard that white is the absence of color. That's not altogether true. White is a compression of all the colors in the spectrum. The colors are there—within the whiteout—they're just squeezed so tightly together that they seem to be one.

“You can ignore them, but you can't get rid of them, darling,” I muttered as I pulled one of his controlled colors to the surface.

I heard a startled groan and the shuffle of stumbling feet behind me. I casually turned on my heel and strolled back to where the Triari had fallen. He stared up at me in shock; one hand pressed to the sidewalk and one over his chest— directly over a spot of determined walnut-brown that was bleeding into his shiny halo. A nearby streetlamp shone directly into his eyes; making them shine like polished sapphires. The light glossed his fine hair as well; making the blond appear as pale as his halo. He had high cheekbones, a long nose, and swooping brows, along with the radiant complexion his kind were known for—a step away from being an actual inner-glow. He was exceptionally handsome, but that was common for Triari. He was also tall—just a foot shorter than me on his knees— with a body on the athletic side but not what I would call muscular; more water polo player than wrestler. My gaze lowered to the gold pin on his lapel; a symbol of three sets of wings ed together and splayed out so that one set pointed up, one went straight out, and one angled down. The Trinity Wings.

“An Arc?” I asked with shock and horror.

Arcs were nearly the highest order of the Host—the Triari military—one rank beneath the Princes who were, in turn, just beneath their King. And no; there's no H in Arc—silent or otherwise. Although, I suppose it's the least of what humans got wrong about them. Arcs were only sent on the most dangerous or important missions, and I had one on his knees before me. That was bad. Very bad.

I released his aura and backed away warily.

“How did you do that?” He whispered in a low voice that I inappropriately found to be sexy.

“What do you want?” I countered.

“Just to talk.” He held out his hands in the universal I-don't-want-to-hurt-you gesture.

I didn't believe it for a second.

“Then why are you stalking me like a miscreant?” I asked as I lifted my chin in challenge.

The Arc's lips twitched and his shoulders relaxed. “After watching you mess up that other miscreant, I wasn't sure how to approach you.”

“You saw no such thing,” I said calmly. “All I did was startle the man. He must have been on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

“So, he was about to rape that woman, but because you startled him, he lost his mind completely and then fell into an exhausted slumber?” He asked with a wave back toward the alley and the sleeping rapist within.

The sound of a lone police siren cut through the quiet. I glanced down the street and grimaced; that would be the cavalry. When you want them there, they take forever, but when you needed them to take their time, they were suddenly punctual. Go figure.

“Let's get into the Market, and then we can talk,” I said irritably.

“Don't want to deal with the authorities?” He said the last word as if it were laughable than anyone could have authority higher than his own.

“Not particularly.” I started walking crisply toward the Market's entrance.

The Triari came abreast of me and looked me up and down.

“You're not what I expected,” he murmured.

I glanced down at my Chanel suit and frowned as I brushed a piece of lint off it. “Since I have no idea why you're stalking me, I can't decide whether or not to be offended.”

“You're lovely,” he said with a grin. “Sophisticated. You speak with a refined accent. I expected someone a little more... casual.”

“Casual?” I lifted a brow. “I can be casual. You just happened to accost me on my way home from work.”

“I did not accost you.” He rolled his eyes. “In fact, I believe I was the one who was attacked.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” I sniffed as I ed beneath the red, Chinese arch that led into the Supermarket.

Red is a very powerful color; it gives off energy and boosts sexual desire. It's the perfect color for a charmed entryway. As we ed beneath it, the sound of the approaching siren faded and the dull drone of the Supermarket replaced it. Not that the Market was noisy; it just had a sound and a feel of its own. The Supermarket was active twenty-four-seven; supes had all sorts of sleeping habits and peak hours so there were always people strolling about the streets. I instantly felt safer; the Triari wouldn't attack me out in the open in front of so many witnesses. But I didn't want to lead him to my home either.

I stopped walking and turned to face him.

“How about a drink?” He offered with a wave of his hand toward the nearest establishment.

The establishment happened to be a bar called The Wilds; my favorite hangout due to several reasons but the top one being that I was raised in it. My foster father owned the bar, and I didn't want to bring the Triari there during one of his busiest times of night.

“I'd rather not,” I said disdainfully.

“Too classy for a bar?” He asked with a grin.

“Too tired, darling,” I corrected. “How about a coffee instead?” I indicated a diner across the street.

Mama's Diner—affectionately referred to as Mama Mutant's Diner—was situated perfectly; as most businesses in the Market were. More often than not, supes would go drinking at The Wilds and then stumble across the street to gobble down some greasy nourishment before they headed home to sleep it off.

“Coffee is fine,” the Arc agreed.

We waited for a break in traffic and then crossed the road. The main door jingled merrily when the Triari pushed it open for me, and Mama looked up from her perch behind the front counter. She smiled brightly when she saw me and wobbled off her stool. The wet sound of tentacles hitting linoleum carried over

to us and then a sucking, popping followed as Mama met us halfway across the diner. As soon as she was beyond the cover of the counter, the origin of the noises—and of the nickname for the diner—became apparent; Mama was from the Evolved category of supernatural. She had the upper body of a middle-aged woman but halfway down her thighs, her legs turned into thick tentacles. Make Ursula jokes at your own risk.

“Amara, sweetie!” Mama exclaimed as she gave me a hug. “Who have you brought in tonight?” She looked the Triari up and down and sighed. “Triari, eh? That's—” she cut herself off with a blank look.

“That's what?” I asked.

“Nothing.” She laughed a little forcibly. “Nothing, sweets. I was just trying to what we had on special tonight. You two make yourselves comfy in a booth. I'll grab some menus.”

She hurried back to the 50's soda-shop counter, and I frowned from her to the Triari. The Arc shrugged and went to sit in one of the few open booths at the end of the line of windows. The other patrons eyed him warily as they hovered over their bowls of Mulligatawny soup, slabs of meatloaf, and piles of smothered chicken. That tiny lapel pin might as well have been two feet tall; it was spotted that quickly. Everyone there instantly knew that this wasn't someone to mess with, and they already knew that about me. The two of us together must have been truly unsettling.

The thought made me smile; it wasn't often that the Supermarket was unsettled by me.

“You're looking chipper,” the Triari noted as I slid onto the squeaky, red, vinyl bench across from him.

“Here you go, my sweetlings,” Mama said as she plopped down the laminated menus with her hands and the coffee cups with her tentacles.

Nimble things; those tentacles. Mama could walk on a bent section while using the tips to do other things. She always said that she wished she had more of them. Personally, I was grateful that I could for human. It made venturing out of the Market a lot easier, and the same could be said for gaining employment. Supes like Mama had to either find ways to mask their mutations or find work in the Market.

“We've got roast beef for tonight's special,” Mama said with a concerned look my way. “I'll give you a few minutes to decide.”

“Thanks, Mama,” I said absently as I pushed the menu away and looked up at the Triari; I already knew the menu by heart. “Now, who are you, and what do you want with me?”

“Can I at least decide on my meal first?” He asked as he perused the menu.

“I said yes to coffee, not cuisine.” I huffed out an annoyed breath and added cream and sugar to my coffee.

I sipped the warm brew; tapping my toe irritably on the linoleum floor. My gaze

wandered out the window to where a pile a cloth seemed to be gliding by. It shifted and a little moon-face smiled up at me from the depths of a hood; pale and round. Erin waved her tiny hand at me before she set it to the pavement and pushed herself along on her skateboard. I fluttered my fingers back at her just as a breeze blew the sides of her jacket apart and revealed her spring-like lower half. Erin bounced on the curls of her legs—gaining momentum from the motion —and giggled as she sped along the sidewalk. I ired her and the others like her; those who were able to rejoice in their differences. Most of the time, mine just made me feel isolated.

“My name is Kyrian,” the Triari finally said as he set down the menu, “and I'm here because of your father.”

I frowned and flinched. “My father is dead. He died years ago; along with my mother.”

Kyrian nodded as if that confirmed something for him. “He was a scientist, correct?”

“So?”

“Do you know who your father was, Amaranthine?” He asked with the cold levelness of his kind.

“You get the fuck away from her, Tri-man,” a grating voice came from behind me; accompanied by the cocking of a shotgun.

No one ran for the doors at the sound of the gun; no one moved at all. They just watched the drama unfold with gleeful fascination. Leonard, who took up an entire booth with his flab folds (he was like a human Shar-Pei), was jiggling with anticipation. It wasn't often that there was a reason to wield a human weapon in the Market, and if a gun was going to be used, the supes wanted to be there to see it.

“What are you doing?” I hissed at Landry in shock.

“Mama called me,” my foster father said evenly. “Said you were here with an Arc.”

“Why does that warrant a shotgun?” I asked in a clipped tone.

“I'm not here to harm her,” Kyrian said calmly; as if there wasn't a weapon pointed at his head. “The opposite, in fact. Amara is in danger, and I've been sent to protect her.”

“Bull fucking shit,” Landry bit out each word. “Get up, Mar, and back away from the Arc. Don't take your eyes off him either; they're tricky bastards.”

I stood immediately; if there was anyone I trusted implicitly in this world, it was Landry.

“Amara, I really am here to help,” Kyrian assured me.

“I don't need any help, thank you very much,” I said as I slipped behind Landry's bulk.

My foster father was an evolved like me. You know how they'll say that someone is as strong as a tree? Well, that saying fit Landry to a T. He was solid and thick, with rough, bark-like skin covering nearly his entire body. His fingers creaked as he tightened them on the trigger, but not because of age. Landry's whole body creaked when he moved, and when he decided to make a stand, he practically put down roots; no one could budge him.

“Now, you're gonna sit there and have your coffee like a nice, civilized Triari and then you're gonna fly your shiny ass out of my Market, you got that?” Landry said to the angel.

“That's not happening, Mr. Ash,” Kyrian said. He took a sip of his coffee before he continued. “Amara can refuse my help, but that won't stop me from watching over her. If you would permit me five minutes to explain, I think you'd see that it's for the best.”

“You got five seconds,” Landry said.

“The Bleiten are coming for her,” Kyrian said concisely.

Nearly everyone stood up at once and rushed out of the diner.

I sent Landry a horrified look, but he kept his steady stare on Kyrian. I'll refer

you back to my earlier description of the Bleiten and how they weren't as nice as the Triari; generally speaking. But, there's a bit more to it than that. The Bleiten are the opposite of the Triari; they use their emotions as a source of power instead of suppressing them. It must work because they're some of the strongest, fiercest warriors in all the worlds, and are relentless conquerors. These were not people you wanted to piss off, or even slightly annoy.

Years ago, the Bleiten got into a tiff with the Triari over a planet they both wanted to inhabit. The planet was devoid of higher life but abounded with natural resources; a rare prize indeed. Thousands of lives were lost on both sides before it was discovered that the planet's environment was tainted. The air was toxic to both Bleiten and Triari; neither race could live on the planet. The wars had been for nothing. All those wasted lives and the wasted wealth prompted a grudge that literally bled out over the other alien races and then onto Earth. So far, the Bleiten were ahead.

“Why would the Bleiten be after me?” I tried to sound skeptical, but my voice trembled.

Kyrian narrowed his gaze at me and then transferred it to Landry. “You didn't tell her?”

Landry's jaw creaked as he clenched his teeth.

“Landry?” I asked in confusion.

“Later, kid,” Landry growled. “I didn't think you needed to know. I damn sure didn't think the Triari or the Bleiten would come looking for you.”

“She does need to know—now.” Kyrian tapped the table with an imperious fingertip. “They're already here. It's only a matter of time before they find her.”

“I've hidden her well,” Landry said. “You only found us because you knew where to start looking.”

“And you think they don't?” Kyrian lifted a brow. “All they need to do is find that house.”

“The house is long gone,” Landry countered.

“But her scent is soaked into the earth.” Kyrian cocked his head at my foster father. “You should have realized that.”

“That earth is scorched,” Landry hissed. “Her scent was burned away like everything else.”

“She didn't burn like everything else,” Kyrian protested. “Her scent is fresh.”

“Impossible,” Landry spat the word. “Even for her.”

“I have visited the site; I assure you that it's there,” Kyrian said.

“Fuck!” Landry hissed. “It can't be.”

“I don't like the sound of this,” I muttered. “Not any of it.”

“Me either, sweetie,” Mama said. “Land, you'd best get our girl out of DC.”

Landry grimaced and nodded.

“I'm not going anywhere,” I said firmly. “I've made a good life for myself here, and I'm not running away from it because some flippant, flying fucker says the Bleiten are after me.”

“There's no point in leaving,” Kyrian said before Landry could start arguing with me. “They'll find her. Better to make a stand.”

“Against the Bleiten?” Mama scoffed. “Only a Triari would say that. Amara, honey, you don't understand yet, but your daddy was an important man, and you're special. You gotta run. You can't let them get a hold of you.”

My heartbeat started to speed up. “What are you talking about?”

“If they have her scent, why ain't they here?” Landry suddenly challenged Kyrian.

“I never said that they had it,” Kyrian corrected him. “I said they could get it.”

“Then there isn't a problem,” Landry declared as he lowered the shotgun. “I'll just have the land burned again; better this time.”

“You're going to burn bare dirt?” Kyrian asked with interest.

“I know a guy,” Landry said as he took my hand. “Come on, kid. I expect we're about to have the sort of conversation that requires alcohol instead of caffeine.”

Chapter Two

The Wilds wasn't your average bar. Oh, it had all the trappings of a normal, working man's, watering hole. There was the requisite bar with its lines of bottles set with military precision on shelves behind it, the solid wood tables that were scarred from heavy drinking and heavy brawling, and a sound system that had seen better days. But that's where the normal ended. Those bottles were filled with alien alcohol and the mixers were things that most humans wouldn't be able to pronounce, much less consume. Supernaturals congregated at the tables in their full glory—no masks or illusions to hide them—and the music was literally out of this world.

Then there was the bar's owner. Landry Ash was of the Evolved class of supernatural; a class I had thought I was also a part of. But if I was correctly understanding what he was saying to me, it seemed that I wasn't evolved at all.

“My father was Triari?” I asked Landry for the second time.

“Drink this, kid,” Landry said gruffly as he slid a shot of penbruth across the bar to me.

Penbruth was the strongest liquor Landry stocked, and it was the only stuff that could keep me drunk longer than three minutes. In addition to my colorsuperpowers, I also had amazingly fast healing. That was usually a good thing, but when I wanted to get drunk, it could pose a problem.

I shot the liquor and then narrowed my eyes at Landry. “Not only am I Triari, but

I'm also an experiment?”

“You're not an experiment,” Landry huffed in irritation. “You know about that shit with Tuburo?”

“The planet the Triari fought the Bleiten over.” I nodded.

“Well, after they found out it was toxic as all fuck, your father was asked to make a vaccine,” Landry said. “The high muckity mucks told him to get in his lab and come up with something that would make the Triari immune to the poisonous environment.”

“Immune?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Landry grimaced.

“Did he?”

“Yeah.”

“That couldn't have ended well,” I whispered.

“It worked too well, actually,” Landry said. “When your dad tried it out on

samples of living tissue, the vaccine made them immune to everything; including death. It wasn't really a vaccine at all, but a potion. One drink of the stuff would speed up cellular and tissue regeneration to the point where it became difficult to spot the damage before it was healed. Wounds closed as they were made, skin thickened, and any toxins introduced to the body were destroyed immediately.”

“He made an immortality elixir?” I asked; dropping my voice even lower.

“You got it, kid.” Landry sighed deeply; his chest creaking. “Thank goodness it was your father's creation; he had a way of looking at things from all angles, and he saw the downside of immortality. As luck would have it, the Triari King agreed with him. He told your father to destroy the elixir and burn his research. The planet Tuburo and the elixir made to colonize it were both abandoned.”

“Okay.” I scowled. “So, how did my father get here?”

“Well, your daddy was a wicked smart man,” Landry said with a sad smile. “The Bleiten knew that.”

“They found out about the elixir?”

“That they did,” Landry confirmed. “And they set out to get it from your father; by any means.”

“They assumed that he'd how to make the elixir,” I concluded.

Landry nodded. “The Triari King sent your dad into hiding here on Earth. Then he met Laura, your mother, and they got married. Your dad, Mama, and I had become friends before Laura came into the picture, and after Jetek met her, we all became close. We were overjoyed when Laura got pregnant; especially your father.”

“ the bottle,” I murmured.

Landry slid the penbruth over, and I poured myself another shot.

“The first eight years were great,” Landry went on. “You were a bright kid; not just bright—genius. Your father was so proud of you; you'd obviously inherited his epic intelligence. You said your first words at three months, Mar. Full sentences a month later. Languages have never been a problem for you; all you had to do was hear one spoken, and you learned it.”

“Yes; I like words,” I murmured.

“But then you started slurring those words,” Landry said grimly. “The human doctors found cancer in your brain.”

“What?” I gaped at him.

“Your parents were devastated,” Landry said. “Your mother cried for days. The doctors—both human and supe—said there was no hope for you; you had a month—tops.”

“Cancer?” I muttered as memories of white rooms and people in white coats surfaced.

“Your dad; he mixed up a fresh batch of that elixir,” Landry whispered.

“No,” I said. “No way.”

“He gave it to you, Amara,” Landry said. “He made you immortal.”

“Immortal?” I scoffed. “Do I look eight-years-old to you? If I were immortal, I wouldn't age.”

“The stuff was made for Triaries,” he went on. “But you're only half Triari. Jetek assumed that was the reason it worked differently with you. You healed a little slower than his tests had predicted, and there was a major side-effect.”

“The colors,” I whispered.

“The colors,” he confirmed. “Despite the slight reduction on your healing rate, it was still rapid; the cancer was gone in minutes. Your parents were concerned that you might remain a child—just as you said—but you aged normally. I've been watching you carefully, kid. You matured into an adult normally, then you exhibited minor changes until you hit twenty-three, but after that, you simply stopped. Fifteen years; that's all you had to grow.”

“I... no. This isn't possible.”

“Look in the mirror, kid,” he huffed. “You ever see a thirty-four-year-old woman with a face like yours? Hell, you ever see someone close a wound in ten seconds?”

I frowned. “I thought it was my mutation; thicker skin or something.”

“You aren't Evolved, sweetheart; you're Alien and Transformed.”

“A hybrid?” I asked in shock. “Two things I thought I wasn't.”

“Jetek used to say that he had cursed you,” Landry muttered.

“My father said that?” I asked. “Why?”

“Because he named you after that bloody elixir,” Landry explained. “The Amaranthine Elixir; that's what they called it. Jetek said he couldn't stop himself from naming you Amaranthine as well. It was such a beautiful word, and it meant everlasting; a mystical flower that never fades. But it became a selffulfilling prophecy.”

“I knew that I was named after the flower, but I didn't know why,” I whispered.

Then something occurred to me. “Landry, for years I thought I imagined it, but I there being other people in the house the night it burned down. I my mother hiding me. Is that all true?”

“It was the Bleiten,” he said with a growl. “Those fuckers found your father. I'm assuming he didn't tell them shit because when I showed up, your place was on fire and both your parents were dead. It wasn't the flames that killed them, kid.”

“Where was I?” I asked in a low voice.

“Hiding in a cabinet; as you ,” he confirmed. “Your mom put you there and told you not to come out; no matter what.”

“So, I didn't,” I murmured as a hazy memory surfaced.

My mother was whispering urgently, “Get inside, Amara,”

“I don't want to,” I whimpered.

“You get in there, and you don't come out, baby.” She shoved me inside. “No matter what you hear; don't come out. You promise me; stay hidden until someone you trust comes for you.”

“I promise,” I whispered.

It was dark and there were cobwebs in the corners, but I wasn't going to disobey my mother. I stayed in that place until Landry found me. And that was the last time that I saw her. There had been terrible sounds; great whooshes of air, men shouting, and my mother screaming. Then came heat and smoke. But I didn't cough; the smoke didn't bother me. It was the fire that hurt. When the flames finally reached me, I had screamed. My body kept repairing itself, but it also kept burning. I remained in a constant state of first-degree burns.

“You came in and pulled me out,” I said in amazement. “You could have been killed, Land. You're extremely flammable.”

“I heard you screaming, kid.” He gave my hand a pat. “I went in and grabbed you, and I hid your face in my jacket as I took you past the bodies of your parents. You were all blistered and your hair was gone, but still, you didn't come out of that cabinet until you saw me. And you healed in seconds, Amara. As soon as I got you out of the house, your hair grew back and your skin lightened to a healthy pink. I think you would have survived, even if you had stayed in that cabinet.”

“It hurt.” I swallowed roughly. “I would have come out eventually.”

“Healing fast doesn't take the pain away. That was the one thing your father couldn't cure.” Landry poured himself a shot and downed it. “The Bleiten murdered your parents but they left without the elixir, and that was the end of it. So I thought.”

“And now, they're back?” I asked. “What can they be thinking? That my father told an eight-year-old child how to make the elixir? I didn't even know that he

gave it to me.”

“It's in your blood,” Kyrian said as he took the stool beside mine.

Landry grimaced as I narrowed my stare at the Arc.

“In my blood?” I asked in a deadly tone. “They think they can extract it?”

“Reverse engineer it; for lack of a better term,” Kyrian said with a nod.

“And the Triari don't want to do that?” I asked skeptically.

“No,” he said firmly. “Our king knows that immortality is not something that should be pursued. Life has an ending for a reason.”

“Easy for you to say,” Landry snorted. “You fuckers live a thousand years on the average.”

“And how long do you think you'll live?” Kyrian shot back.

“I don't know; I'm evolved,” Landry said gruffly. “No one can say for certain with an evolved.”

“I think it's safe to assume that you'll last at least as long as a Sequoia,” Kyrian said. “That's over three-thousand years.”

I widened my eyes at Landry.

“Possible, but not probable,” Landry said.

“At least I'll have a friend for awhile,” I whispered.

“Hey, kid.” Landry took my hand. “Don't you worry about the future, okay? That shit takes care of itself. We gotta focus on the present.”

“And presently, there's an Ungaru tracker after Amara,” Kyrian said.

“They got a fucking blood-sucker on her trail?” Landry hissed. “What's he tracking her with?”

“It's possible that the Bleiten kept a sample of Jetek's blood from the assassination,” Kyrian said. “With it, they'd be able to supply the tracker with a familial link. I'm assuming that's how it's being done.”

Leave it to a Triari to be coldly reasonable, even when talking about one of the most repellent alien races around. The Ungaru are the truth behind the myth of

vampires; they prolong their lives by drinking blood from other living creatures. Animals don't have enough life energy for them, so that leaves people. The Ungaru got very good at discerning different blood types and finding even the smallest traces of blood. This made them extremely skilled trackers; as long as you had a blood sample to supply them with. They made excellent assassins for the same reasons. I suppose when you have a talent for something, it's wise to pursue a career in it.

“The bastards,” Landry snarled. “They kept Jetek's blood? What kind of sick shit is that?”

“The smart kind,” Kyrian said. “It's obviously come in handy.”

“But the Ungaru won't be able to find me unless I bleed,” I pointed out. “So, I'll be careful to not cur myself.”

“If the Ungaru gets close enough to you, he may be able to smell your blood through your skin,” Kyrian said.

“Then I'll be sure not to get close to an Ungaru,” I countered crisply as I stood. “Goodnight, gentlemen. It's been an illuminating evening.”

“Hold on.” Kyrian grabbed my arm. “I'll walk you home.”

“No, thank you.” I eased my arm out of his grip and backed up a step. “I'll be ing on your offer of protection. Thank you just the same.”

“You can't be serious?” Kyrian scoffed. “After all you just heard, you're not going to accept my help?”

“I don't know what you're after.” I lifted my chin. “Frankly, I don't trust you.”

Landry chuckled.

“I don't care, Amara,” Kyrian said. “I have my orders and... what the fuck?”

As he'd been rattling on about my poor choices, I'd been collecting colors around me; colors exactly like those of my surroundings. Basically; I'd made myself invisible. And then I tip-toed out of The Wilds so that damn angel couldn't hear my heels clicking on the wood floor.

Chapter Three

The next day, I was called in to translate for the President. Yes, of the United States. I'm damn good at my job, and I'm also the only supernatural translator who can speak the languages of all the known alien races as well as most of the human races of Earth. I hadn't thought that I was needed to translate an alien language this time, but I was mistaken.

I was about to follow the President of the United Arab Emirates out of the Oval Office when President Matthew Colton of the United States grabbed my arm and quietly asked me to stay behind. I said goodbye to the U.A.E. President and hung back while he and his entourage were escorted out of the White House by secret service agents.

“Yes, Mr. President?” I asked after the door had shut.

“There has been an incident involving a supernatural,” he said grimly. “Would you be willing to work with Homeland Security in their investigations? They need someone discreet who can translate alien languages.”

“Sir, no disrespect intended, but this must be a hell of an incident to compel you to ask me personally.”

“Any major crime involving supernaturals can be a matter of great importance, but this one is particularly sensitive. The Department of Homeland Security conducted their initial investigations and then brought the results to me,” President Colton said. “I'll be monitoring things from this point forward, but if

you agree, you'd be working directly with DHS. I don't know how long it will take—it's already been two days—but I can't imagine them needing you for more than a few hours at the most. Are you available now by any chance?”

“I can hardly refuse.” I gave him a soft smile.

President Colton was the youngest president America had ever had. At thirtynine, he was single, dashingly handsome, and utterly charming. He had won the presidency despite all of those qualities. Your average single woman would love him as a boyfriend, but most Americans wanted more than a pretty face in office. And they got it. Colton was smart, persuasive, and diplomatic; he had yet to make a change that I didn't fully . However, that pretty face combined with his present occupation made him the most eligible bachelor in America.

The President had been romantically linked to a few actresses and even an heiress, but no one could roast him for his dalliances. He was a single man and America loves a good romance—or twelve. The Secret Service was having a hell of a time protecting President Colton, his privacy, and his girlfriends, and Colton's romantic affairs made the news as often as his political ones. You'd think with all of the women he'd dated, the Secret Service would also be up to their armpits in ex-girlfriend drama and even a few scandals. But Colton tended to leave his ladies smiling, and not a single one had a bad word to say about him. That alone was impressive. He intrigued me. What was it about this man that made women spout his praises even after they parted ways?

“I wouldn't ask if I didn't need you badly, Amara,” President Colton purred.

“Are you trying to flirt me into saying yes?” I asked him with narrowed eyes. “Because it will take more than innuendos to sway me, Mr. President. Besides, I've already agreed to it.”

POTUS laughed and then claimed my hand to kiss it gallantly. “Then I think I'll accept your agreement before I screw it up by saying anything else.”

“Very wise,” I noted.

“Elaine will have an agent drive you to the DHS building and escort you to the Deputy Secretary,” he said. “Thank you, Amara; this has the potential to turn catastrophic.”

I went serious immediately. “Then it's my honor to help, Mr. President.”

I knew President Colton had a personal interest in me; I could see it in his aura. Yes; colors could come in handy in all sorts of ways. But Colton had never acted on his attraction, and I valued my job too much to encourage him beyond the meaningless flirtation we occasionally shared. So, I kept it professional as he walked me to the door, and I didn't say anything when his hand brushed my elbow. A few dates with the President, even one as charming as Colton, was not worth losing my White House connections.

“Ms. Madison.” Elaine, the President's secretary, waved to a man standing near her desk. “This is Agent Kelson; he'll drive you to Homeland Security.”

“Agent Kelson.” I nodded to the man.

“Ma'am.” He nodded back and waved me down the hallway.

Kelson led me through corridors I'd never been down before and then out into a parking lot. There wasn't much conversation between us on the short drive to the Department of Homeland Security, nor was there much on the walk through the building. He said more to security than to me. But then we were met by Special Agent Theresa Longchamp, who'd been sent to bring me through the maze of busy offices, and I tried to dismiss him.

“Thank you for your help, Agent Kelson,” I said; expecting him to leave me in Longchamp's hands.

“I'll be with you until you're finished, Ma'am,” Kelson said. “And then I'll drive you home.”

“You must be important,” SA Longchamp noted.

“Not as far as I know,” I murmured with a confused look at Kelson.

But Kelson had gone quiet again.

“Thank you for agreeing to translate for us,” SA Longchamp said as she led us through a large, open room full of desks and then down a side corridor. “Trying to find a translator to handle this has been a Herculean task.”

“I'm happy to help.”

“I've been told to brief you along the way,” she said as she nodded to another agent in ing.

“I'm all ears.”

“There was a bank robbery two days ago,” SA Longchamp began. “A security guard was wounded badly and a few civilians received minor injuries. The robbers were a team of supernaturals who spoke a language we've yet to identify. All of our translators are stumped.”

“A bank robbery?” I asked in surprise.

“I know it doesn't seem important enough to warrant this kind of attention,” Longchamp said. “But the abilities and attitudes of these supernaturals have everyone on edge. They didn't care that they were seen by civilians or even caught on camera; the cover-up alone has been a nightmare.”

“And you think they might be working themselves up to something larger?” I asked.

“It was the Wells Fargo, just three blocks from the White House,” she said with a heavy look my way.

“Shit,” I whispered. “That's a little close to home.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It felt deliberate. You'll see the CCTV recordings and be able to judge for yourself, but in our opinion, they don't seem as interested in the money as they do in the intimidation of their hostages. When the police showed up, the supernaturals took great pleasure in walking right out the front doors and disarming them with their abilities.”

“Disarming them how?” I asked. “What abilities?”

“Several ways,” Longchamp said. “Some handguns were torn out of police hands by unseen forces, some were heated to burning temperatures, and some were frozen. All of the attacks came at once; the police were unable to fire a single shot.”

I nodded. “Those are all common, supernatural abilities.”

“They don't appear so common on the video,” she said as she opened a door and waved me inside a room. “And the police officers didn't find them ordinary at all.”

“Fair enough,” I said as I moved past her.

Inside the room, there were rows of desks set in front of a wall of monitors. Several screens showed subjects on surveillance; all men. At the desks, the computers were manned by grim-faced people, and to the side of the room, large boards were devoted to pictures of video stills and close-ups. I glanced around in fascination at the muted but frantic activity as I followed Longchamp through

the thick of it.

“I don't give a shit if she's the best translator in the fucking world,” a bald man growled at a slightly younger fellow. “We shouldn't be letting one of those freaks into our building, much less our investigation.”

“Sir, I think you should know—” the second man's eyes were rounded and focused on me.

“What if she's a spy and takes this information back to them? What if she's working for them?” Baldie cut off the other guy.

“Thinking that I would know every supernatural simply because I am one is akin to thinking that you know every bald man on the planet,” I said dryly. “I can assure you that I have nothing to do with this crime, but if you'd prefer to work with a fully human translator, I'm more than happy to go home, kick off my heels, and leave you to shine your head and search for one. You won't find anyone with my skills, but you may be able to find a few who can pool their efforts.”

The bald man turned around crisply and glared at me as soon as I began my speech. As I spoke, his shiny head turned red; along with his aura—a bright, furious red.

“Sir, this is Ms. Amara Madison; our translator,” SA Longchamp introduced me. “She's come at the President's personal request.”

“If you leak anything, Missy, I'll throw you in a pit so deep you'll never see daylight again,” the bald man said.

“Who are you?” I asked blandly. “I like to be formally introduced to people before I exchange patronizing insults with them.”

“I am Walter Lathem, the Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security,” he snarled importantly. “Who the fuck are you?”

“She just introduced me,” I said as if he were an idiot. “But since you seem to be going senile, I'll tell you who I am; I'm a woman who doesn't work for people who threaten me or call me 'Missy.' Agent Kelson,” I turned to my SS escort, “I believe it's time to leave.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Kelson said immediately.

We began to walk out.

“Get your ass back here!” The Deputy Secretary shouted.

“Was I unclear?” I asked Agent Kelson.

“I don't think so, Ma'am,” Agent Kelson said with all seriousness.

“Perhaps I'd better use he can understand,” I mused to Kelson. Then, over my shoulder, I said to Lathem, “Shove it up your fat, racist ass, Deputy Secretary.”

I started walking again, and the Deputy started shouting more obscenities. I kept going; calmly striding out of the building with SA Longchamp chasing me; begging me to stay. I kept repeating 'no' to her all the way to the front steps. She finally gave up when we reached the street and went back to face the DS on her own.

Agent Kelson helped me into our car in silence and then started driving me toward the Supermarket.

“Well done, Ma'am,” Kelson said over his shoulder.

I stared at him in the rearview mirror. “You don't think that I should have taken the abuse for the good of the country?”

“The President will see to the good of the country,” Kelson said. “And I'll be informing him of exactly what the Deputy Secretary did to impede his own investigation.”

“Thank you, Agent Kelson.” I smiled at him in surprise.

“My pleasure, Ma'am,” he said. “My cousin is evolved. She's a good girl who wouldn't hurt a fly. I wouldn't stand for anyone speaking to her like that man just

did to you. But I didn't have to stand up for you; you handled it like a lady and then told him where to shove it like a man. It was so much better than anything I could have done and it was a joy to watch. I only wish I could have recorded it to replay for the President.”

It turned out that Agent Kelson had quite a lot to say, and I appreciated every word.

Chapter Four

It was still mid-afternoon when Agent Kelson dropped me off in the East End's Chinatown, or Chinablock as it was called now. After the riots in 1968, most of the Asian population had moved away so it wasn't much of a town anymore. They left their mark, though; even on us supes. I thought about that as I ed beneath the red arch and into the Supermarket.

Most supernaturals liked humans; they were just like us except less complicated. It would be nice to think that humans would like us too and maybe even be excited to know about the supernaturals living among them, but I suspected that most were like that asshole deputy. If there ever came an “incident” that couldn't be covered up by human politicians, there might be another World War. Except this time it would be more literal; fought in every country—supernaturals against humans. The thought was enough to make my stomach turn.

“Hey, Color-Me-Badd, how you doing?”

I looked to my left and saw the statue of a man in a Captain Morgan pose with his lifted foot on the front stoop of an apartment building. The statue had the classic features of your average Greek Adonis and the build of a Spartan warrior but was dressed in modern clothing. An odd but eye-catching piece of stonework. Then the statue broke character and cracked a smile at me.

“A has-been band from the eighties.” I rolled my eyes and kept walking. “No; that's not acceptable.”

Among the supernaturals, there were a select few who believed that because we were born with powers, it was our duty to look after those who hadn't. These dogooders had the nerve to call themselves superheroes instead of supernaturals. They ran about the human sections of cities in silly costumes and got into all manner of trouble in their mission to help humans. Not that I hated humans or didn't want to help them; I helped that woman the other night, didn't I? But I didn't think it should be my responsibility to patrol the streets for free just because I was born different. Well, born different and then made even more so by my scientist father and his unfading elixir. I huffed my angled bangs out of my face. Either way, I hadn't asked for this.

“Come on, Mara, just hear me out.” The statue suddenly came to life; his skin and clothing shifting into more healthy hues.

Right; back to the “superhero.”

“Get stuffed like an olive, Davorin,” I said as I resumed walking.

Davorin chuckled. “You always have the best come-backs, Mara.”

“How hard is it to say 'Amara?'” I asked him. “It's one more letter.”

“But your friends call you Mara,” Davorin pointed out with a wicked smirk.

“We're not friends,” I said coldly.

When he wasn't stone, Davorin was stone-cold sexy. He had mahogany hair that shone as if it were polished, luscious lips that begged to be bitten, and ivy-green eyes outlined in thick lashes. Oh, and rock-hard abs.

If only he didn't dress like a ninja in his free time and refer to himself as Gargoyle.

Yes; it's a catchy name. Davorin could turn anything into stone and then back again; including himself. The moniker was appropriate. Unfortunately, he'd been after me for months to his budding superhero team and get my own ridiculous name. I told him he could call me Coma because that was what I'd put him into if he kept hounding me. That didn't intimidate Davorin in the least. In fact, he'd been coming up with his own names for me ever since; a new one every time we met.

“Don't say that,” Davorin purred as he chased after me. “We're close; you and I.” He butted his shoulder against mine and sent me stumbling. “Oh, shit; sorry.”

Davorin grabbed me before I fell into the road, and I wound up pressed tightly against his chest. I took a deep breath of expensive cologne mixed with male musk and clenched my teeth. The last thing I needed was to develop an attraction for the Living Pigeon Perch.

“You okay?” His voice dropped even lower, and his aura flared from the blushing-pink of flirtation to a lusty, amorous red.

I changed it to a sedate amethyst and pushed out of his arms.

“Don't think that I don't know what you just did there, Amara.” Davorin caught my hand as I tried to leave. “Have dinner with me; I promise I won't talk about the group. It would be a normal date.”

“Normal?” I lifted a brow as I pulled my hand away. “I don't think so.”

“Around seven, then?” He asked.

“Davorin darling, if you show up at my house tonight, I will grind your balls into dust,” I threatened sweetly.

“Oh, how she wounds me,” he cried dramatically. “Threatening my stones; that's low.”

I hid my smile as I hurried away.

Chapter Five

It was a good thing that I refused Davorin's dinner invitation because three hours later, two agents from the Secret Service braved the Supermarket to knock on my door. They had to get special permission just to enter the Market, even when going in at the President's request. It was mainly because of the gate spell. That ward was so good that the Market couldn't even be found from above; nonsupernatural eyes would just skid away from it. Humans couldn't even parachute in unannounced. And since they couldn't make it past the gate without a supernatural, the agents also had to be escorted. So, not only did a pair of blacksuited SS men show up with ear-pieces and all on my doorstep, but also Mandy Grundage, Mayor of the D.C. Supermarket.

“Ms. Madison, these men are here from the White House,” Grundage said imperiously as she patted her blonde curls; they were hairsprayed to the point of looking enameled.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” I asked the agents directly.

“Ma'am, I'm Agent Dawson and this is Agent Craig,” one of them said as he gestured to the other. “We have orders to escort you back to the White House for a private dinner with the President to discuss matters of state.”

Grundage's coppery snake eyes couldn't go any rounder, but they sure tried.

“The President wants to talk about matters of state with me?” I couldn't help messing with them.

“Um, it's about the situation,” Agent Craig said. “The one you were briefed on.”

“I turned that job down,” I said.

“The President would like you to reconsider,” Agent Dawson said.

“Okay.” I sighed and looked as if I were pensive. “No.”

“Perhaps you could speak with him before you make a decision?” Agent Craig suggested patiently.

“What's for dinner?” I asked.

“Ms. Madison!” Grundage nearly screeched.

I ignored her. I'd never liked the woman. And it had nothing to do with her snake traits. Although, they didn't help.

“Excuse me?” Agent Craig asked me; completely ignoring the Mayor.

“What is the President going to serve me for dinner?” I asked more slowly.

“Does it seriously make a difference?” Agent Dawson asked.

“Yes.” I didn't blink.

“She wants to know what they're serving for dinner,” Agent Dawson said into his communications piece. “Uh-huh. Okay. Yeah; I know.” He looked up at me. “There's a choice of prime rib or roasted chicken for the main.”

“What is this; a bad wedding reception?” I huffed.

“Ms. Madison, the President of the United States is asking you to dinner,” Grundage growled. “Just go!”

The agents looked at each other in bafflement.

“Fine,” I huffed and grabbed my coat. “I guess I'll have the prime rib. But there had better be something phenomenal for dessert.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Agent Craig said. “I'm sure there will be.”

I locked up, and we all tromped down my steps to the street. I lived in a brick townhouse in one of the nicer areas of the Market. Being a translator paid well. On the tidy street before my place—parked under the shade of a young maple—

was a black SUV with yet another stoic agent in the driver's seat. Agent Craig opened the door for me, and I slid into the luxurious, leather interior.

“You will keep me informed, I assume?” Grundage asked Agent Dawson.

“I'm sure that someone will notify you when it's appropriate, Ma'am,” Dawson said to her.

From eighteen to eighty, every woman was a Ma'am to a secret service agent. But Grundage didn't like the Ma'aming or the brush-off. She started to grumble when the agent expressed how urgent their mission was—mission; that's a laugh —and how he didn't have time to argue with her. The doors were shut on her furious face, and the SUV lurched forward. There was a smaller car behind us; some kind of sedan. It tailed us until we left the Market and then it stopped and turned around—the escort, I presume.

I chuckled. “Nice going; you just pissed off the most important supernatural in the D.C. Market.”

Agent Dawson frowned. “I was just doing my job.”

“Your job may have hurt supernatural-human relations in this city,” I noted casually. “But hey, as long as the President gets his dinner date, right?”

“This isn't a date, Ma'am,” Agent Dawson explained. “This is—”

“Do they beat all the humor out of you in your training?” I interrupted him. “It was a joke.”

“Not a funny one,” he said dryly.

I shot a blast of yellow at Agent Dawson, and he burst out into a surprised bark of laughter. He covered his mouth with a horrified look as Agent Craig gawked at him.

“It appears that it was funny, after all,” I murmured as I stared innocently out the window.

Chapter Six

“Thank you for accepting my invitation,” President Colton said as he stood to greet me.

“I don't think I had much of a choice,” I said honestly.

I glanced around the President's private dining room before I took the seat he pulled out for me. The walls were buttermint-yellow and very tall. An enormous painting hung on one of them; a portrait of some old, jowly, intimidating fellow who looked as if he'd never missed a meal in his life. I suppose that was appropriate artwork for a dining room. The table was oval but small; a fourseater with lots of elbow room. The guy in the painting would have taken up half of it. There was a bowl of peonies in the center of the table and real silverware set to the sides of the White House china.

“I'm sorry that you thought so,” President Colton said as he resumed his seat. “And I'm sorry for the brutish way you were treated by Deputy Secretary Lathem. I've taken him off the investigation and temporarily removed him from duty until he can be assessed for competency.”

“You what?” I gaped at him.

“I can't have a bigot investigating a crime involving people who he's biased against. Nor can I have that same bigot as the Deputy Secretary for Homeland Security; that's a racial war just waiting to explode. And I have no desire to go down in history as the President who started the second civil war,” Colton said

reasonably. “I had no idea that Lathem was such a racist. If I'd known, I would have acted sooner.”

“Fair enough,” I murmured as an elegant salad was slid in front of me. “Thank you,” I said to the stealthy waiter.

He nodded discreetly and crept away.

“I hope the rest of this meal doesn't feel too much like reception fare,” Colton teased me.

“They blabbed, huh?”

“Agents Dawson and Craig are part of my personal security team,” he said. “They tell me everything. Also, I was listening in through their mics.”

“You were eavesdropping?” I asked in surprise.

“I needed to know if I had to dress for dinner or if I could stay in my underwear,” he said blandly.

“You were not sitting around the White House in your underwear.” I rolled my eyes. “But thank you for that amusing imagery.”

“I'm here to entertain.” Colton held his arms out and grinned brightly. “Also; I live here. I assure you that there are moments when I'm just in my underwear.” He leaned in to whisper, “Sometimes, I'm even naked.”

I shook my head and started on my salad.

“When you have a moment, could you hit Play and take a look at this?” Colton slid a tablet over to me.

I glanced down as I chewed. A video was already loaded and ready to be watched. It was the interior of a bank; tellers at one end and the entrance at the other. A group of men was spread out through a cowering crowd, but despite their aggressive postures, they held no weapons. I hit Play.

And then I froze.

“What is it?” Colton asked. “Do you recognize the language?”

“Of course, I recognize the language. I know all of them,” I huffed without thinking; I was that startled. Then I gasped. “I'm so sorry, Mr. President.”

“Forget it,” he waved it aside urgently. “What language is it? And what are they saying?”

I stopped the video and went back to listen again.

“It's Bleiten,” I murmured.

“The Demon language?” His jaw dropped. “But they haven't visited Earth in years.”

“Yes,” I muttered as I waved him into silence and listened intently.

The supernatural bank robbers didn't appear to be Bleiten; at least, not all of them did. So, why were they speaking it? Bleiten never spoke their native tongue in mixed company. On Earth, they used the language of the region they were in. When in Rome and all that. Unless, of course, they didn't want to be understood.

I looked closer at the video; one of the men—and they all appeared to be male— was almost completely covered. He had a ski mask on like the rest of them but also gloves, a heavy jacket, a turtleneck, pants, and boots. Only a small ring of skin showed around his eyes. But halfway through the video, something dripped out of his sleeve and landed on the floor. It looked thick and clear—like hair gel —and the stone floor started to smoke where it hit.

“What the fuck is that?” I whispered as my eyes went wide.

“You caught that, did you?” Colton asked with a smirk. “I thought you would.”

“He's leaking toxic goo,” I proclaimed.

“We were able to collect a sample of the substance and have it analyzed. Your analysis is spot on; it's a poisonous mucus,” Colton said. “Producing poisonous slime isn't exactly your average supernatural ability.”

“No; it's not. In fact, I've never heard of it,” I murmured. “Most of these men are too small to be Bleiten. Only this one here looks large enough.” I pointed to one of the robbers. “But with his mask on, I can't tell for sure either way. This slimedripping fellow is definitely too short to be one of them, but the Bleiten have been rumored to experiment on their own kind. His reduced size could be a sideeffect of whatever made him gooey.”

“So, he may be an experiment gone wrong?”

“Or one gone horribly right,” I said grimly.

“Jesus,” Colton whispered.

“Your god can't help you against the Bleiten, Mr. President.” I rubbed my arms to work the shivers away. “No one can. Except maybe the Triari.”

“The Triari?” Colton perked up. “Do you think they would help us?”

I sighed deeply and contemplated how much I wanted to confide in the President.

“Are you all right, Amara?” The President asked in concern.

“I may know someone whom you can speak to,” I offered.

“A Triari?” His eyes widened when I nodded. “I didn't think there were any left on Earth.”

“We thought the Bleiten had left as well, but there you go.” I waved a hand at the tablet.

“Fair point,” he conceded. “Can you set up a meeting between this Triari and me?”

“I can try; we're not exactly friends.”

“That's all I can ask,” he said gently. “Now, can you tell me what the thieves were saying?”

“They were talking about the robbery; where to stand, who to target, and what to take.”

“They had specific targets?” He leaned forward.

“Not that specific.” I shook my head. “They went for the strongest. It's a common tactic; take out the biggest opponents first and make the weaker cower.”

“But they also had specific things they wanted to steal?” Colton asked.

“Nothing from the drawers,” I said. “They wanted the cash from the vault, and they said they needed to...” I went back and listened again. “Grab a few deposit boxes randomly in addition to one in particular.”

“Which one in particular?”

“They don't say.”

“Well, shit,” he whispered. “That's still more than a team of experts have gotten in two days.”

“The robbers thought it was safe to speak in Bleiten.” I shrugged. “No one on Earth knows that language anymore.”

“No one but you and these criminals,” Colton noted.

“Now, I'm really glad that I walked out of DHS,” I muttered. “If Lathem had

heard that, he'd probably arrest me for conspiracy.”

“He'd take you into custody, which is far worse,” Colton said grimly. “Why do you how to speak Bleiten, Amara?”

“My father had a book on the language.” I shrugged. “I read it once.”

President Colton laughed and shook his head. “You read a book once and learned a language. Just like that?”

“I'm a fast learner; especially with languages.”

“Damn; I wish I had your brain.”

“I wasn't smart enough to become President,” I pointed out.

“This office isn't about intelligence,” Colton said. “It's about diplomacy.”

“Diplomacy is key,” I agreed. “But you can't be an idiot either.” I frowned as a few past presidents came to mind. “Or rather, you shouldn't be.”

“True. So, in an effort to not be an idiot, I'm going to ask an expert for help. Will you help us with the investigation, Amara?” He asked in a very diplomatic way.

“I'm not going back to Homeland Security,” I said stubbornly.

“I can arrange for you to use an office here,” he offered. “Amara, we were able to track the robbers through traffic cams and CCTV after they left the bank. DHS is currently working on identifying them through facial recognition and the assistance of the Supermarket Police. If we can find them and set some surveillance on them, we can discover whether they're just one group of criminals or if they're part of a bigger conspiracy. But we'll need someone to interpret what we hear. We need you.”

“I don't know. What's for dessert?”

“Uh, chocolate cake, I think.”

I made a disappointed face.

“You don't like chocolate cake?” He asked in surprise.

“It's about as mundane as roasted chicken,” I said.

“My chef's roasted chicken is one of the most amazing things you'll ever put in your mouth,” Colton declared.

I lifted a brow, and he turned red.

“Dear God, I don't think a woman has made me blush over something that I've innocently said before,” he exclaimed and then laughed. “All right, Amara, what would you like for dessert?”

“Pear brandy souffle,” I said immediately.

“Is there such a thing?” He asked with wide eyes.

“I don't know, but it sounds good, doesn't it?”

The President of the United States started chortling like a little boy, and then he called in one of the wait staff.

“Charles, could you ask Diane if she can make us a pear brandy souffle?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Charles said with a respectful nod.

“You've got yourself an investigative translator, Mr. President,” I announced.

Chapter Seven

The souffle took forty-five minutes to make, but it was worth the wait. The President and I had coffee out on his balcony while it baked, and his staff brought it out to us on a rolling cart when it was done. It was so delicious that I would have agreed to anything for another bite. I mentioned that to Colton, and he promised that the next time he invited me to dinner, we'd start with dessert. Then my favorite SS agent duo drove me home.

I half-expected to find Kyrian waiting for me on my front steps. But, there was no sign of him. I sighed in both relief and frustration. I didn't want the Arc to know where I lived, but at the same time, it would have been convenient if he'd been there.

I slid my key into the front door and was about to turn it when I saw a shift in the colors around me. It was subtle, but enough of a change to catch my attention. I spun about—ready to blast my attacker with colored light—but no one was there. An eerie feeling crept over my skin, and I knew that I was being watched. Someone was definitely there, he just didn't want me to know it. I searched the area for the glowing edges of his halo, but Kyrian had hidden well this time.

“Kyrian,” I called out, “if that's you, we need to talk so come out.”

Nothing.

“Don't be infantile,” I huffed as I continued to search the street.

A man covered in glistening bumps walked by and gave me a curious look. “You okay, Amara?”

“I'm fine, Fred,” I said with a tight smile. “I just thought I saw Davorin again.”

“That boy still after you to his hero club?” Fred chuckled.

“He doesn't know when to give up,” I huffed.

“It's that stone thing,” Fred called over his shoulder as he kept walking. “It makes him immovable.”

“You can say that again,” I muttered as I narrowed my eyes at the alley across the street. “Suit yourself, Arc. But you had better not try to break in. When you come to your senses, knock like a gentleman.”

I went inside and locked the door behind me. It had been a long day, and I needed a hot shower before I got some sleep. I trudged up the stairs and through my bedroom to the master bath.

I preferred a feminine but classy look. My bedroom was decorated with an Old World flair and a Marie Antoinette twist—sans the guillotine. It was furnished with a four-poster bed hung with heavy silk curtains printed in pale blue toile, a vanity that looked as if it had belonged to the ill-fated queen herself, and more millwork on the walls than any room required. The wallpaper was silk damask—

set into millwork frames against the powder blue walls—and the hardwood floors were covered with thick, pastel, Persian carpets.

The theme continued into the bathroom, where a crystal chandelier hung over a free-standing, claw-foot bathtub set into a curving alcove. Lengths of cream silk curtains were draped back to either side of the nook. The millwork and crown molding were gilded in the bathroom, and the walls were painted a muted, mature pink. The countertops were white marble veined with gold to match the gold fixtures, and an enormous gold framed mirror—crowned with a dramatic swirled carving—was set behind the sinks to magnify the space.

I shrugged out of my clothes in front of the mirror, but I didn't give myself much attention. I was too tired to care about how I looked. I simply flung my clothes over the back of a padded bench that was set within the bathroom's bay window and went straight into the shower; off to the right of the tub. The hot water eased the tension in my back as it filled the entire room with steam. I let it work its magic for longer than I should have, and when I finally emerged, the bathroom was a misty wonderland.

I sighed; relaxing even more in the damp atmosphere. The colors were muted beneath the mist, and it was the equivalent of a hot shower for my supernatural senses. I lingered in it; toweling off slowly and working some lotion into my skin before I emerged from my cocoon. Even with the soft palette of my bedroom, the color wavelengths struck me like sunlight, and I squinted as I adjusted. After my vision had calmed down, I slipped into my silk kimono and went to sit at my vanity to go through my nightly routine.

As I rubbed moisturizer into my face—wondering if I really needed to bother with it anymore—I caught a flare of colors in the corner of my eye. I flinched; my tension returning along with a surge of adrenaline. My bedroom window was to my right, and it was from there that the colors had originated. I focused on the window and caught the edge of an aura, but by the time I reached the ledge, even

the trace of it was gone. I scowled out at the dark street, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Pumpkin,” I mused about the glimpse of aura. “The color of fascination.”

Had Kyrian dropped his halo to watch over me, or had he become so fascinated that his emotions had pushed through that famous Triari control? Either way, it appeared that I had a peeping Tom with wings. My bedroom was two stories up and there were no handholds in the brick wall.

Fascinating indeed.

Chapter Eight

Men; when you don't want them, they're dogging your heels but when you do, they're nowhere in sight.

“Sorry, kid; I haven't seen your blond bodyguard since you left him gaping after your invisible self.” Landry chuckled. “That Triari ran out after you and searched the entire Market before he came back to lecture me on how much you need him.”

“What did you do?”

“I threatened to hose him down with seltzer water if he didn't get the fuck out of my bar.” Landry grinned wickedly.

I laughed. “That must have gone over well.”

“Like a bag of Bleiten,” he huffed.

My face fell.

“Sorry about that; it just came out,” he muttered. “Don't worry; he'll show up. What kind of Arc would he be if he wasn't able to find you again?”

“Meanwhile, the President is waiting for my call,” I grumbled.

“You going back there today?”

“No; they're going to let me know when they need more translating done,” I said. “I think they have other experts who will advise them on supernatural behavior.”

“Experts?” Davorin asked as he took the seat beside mine. “Who needs experts?”

“You do; to help you find your ass,” I said. “Oh, wait; you're talking out of it right now.”

“That's funny, Rainbow Brite. You're a riot.” Davorin smiled in a twisting-pout motion that made his lips even sexier. Then he went serious. “I need to talk to you; women have been going missing.”

“So what?” Landry huffed. “Humans go missing all the time; it's not our concern.”

“Not humans”—Davorin transferred his grim look from Landry to me—“supes.”

“What?” I scowled at him. “I haven't heard anything about missing women in the

Market.”

“They're trying to keep it under wraps.” He grimaced. “Amara, we need to do something, and I'd like your help.”

“I'm sorry, darling, but I have my own issues to deal with right now,” I said with exasperation. “Let Market Police do their job.”

“Yeah, I heard a rumor about the Bleiten coming after you,” he said with a frown. “Is that shit true?”

I gave Landry a tired look and it was confirmation enough for Davorin.

“So, it is true,” Davorin said as if he'd never suspected otherwise. “Amara, the reason I brought this to you is that I think the missing women may be connected to your Bleiten problems.”

“You think that the Bleiten are abducting supernaturals and that it's all connected to me?” I asked in shock.

I didn't even bother to ask where he'd heard the Bleiten rumor. Gossip in the Market had wings; as soon as a piece of information was overheard, it made the rounds like a hungry hawk. And Kyrian had dropped that particular piece of bloody meat in front of a whole flock of squawking supes in Mama's Diner.

“Several different types of supernaturals have disappeared,” Davorin said. “None of them seem to be connected, but they all have one thing in common.”

“I know I'm going to regret asking this, but what do they have in common?” Landry grimaced.

“Their eyes.” Davorin looked pointedly into mine. “They all have purple eyes.”

I felt my face go slack as Landry cursed. I had been born with brown eyes—like my mother's—but after I recovered from my illness, my eyes had changed to deep purple; like the petal of an iris. I knew now that it was just another sideeffect of the elixir, and it seemed that the Bleiten knew it too. If they couldn't track my blood, they could search for someone with eyes the same rare color as mine.

“Hey,” Davorin said gently, “I've got your back, Mara. I can stand guard outside your house when you're home. We'll figure this out.”

“No; it's fine,” I said distractedly. “I'll be all right.”

“You'd be better if you went on the defensive and ed my superhero team.”

“You're not superheroes, darling.” I rolled my eyes.

“More like super zeroes,” Landry said with a smirk.

“I see where you get your sense of humor, Mara,” Davorin said dryly.

“The worst thing Amara could do right now is to go poking around, looking into disappearances that may be Bleiten related, when the Bleiten are already looking for her,” Landry said. “She might as well hold up a sign in Market Park with “Bleiten victim” written on it.”

“She wouldn't be a victim if she attacked them first,” Davorin reasoned.

“No one wins against the Bleiten,” Landry said. “The best you can do is toss a grenade at them and run. Even then, that would probably just piss them off.”

“Everyone has their weaknesses,” Davorin insisted. “And there can't be that many Bleiten here or they would have been spotted by now.”

“Unless they've hired mercenaries,” I murmured.

“Mercs working for Bleiten?” Davorin lifted a dark brow. “That doesn't happen. Bleitens do their own dirty work; they enjoy it too much to contract out.”

“Yes; I'm sure you're right,” I said as I exchanged a worried look with Landry.

“You seriously think they've hired a group of goons?” Davorin asked with a

wide-eyed look.

I just shrugged.

“It would keep them in the clear,” Davorin mused. “The Bleiten have done so much damage over the years that if they started something here, the supernaturals may band together to stop them.”

“If only,” Landry huffed.

“You don't give your fellow supes enough credit, Landry,” Davorin said. “Especially those of us on Earth. We like it here; it's become a nice, safe, neutral zone where we can all live together in peace.”

“What the hell do you know about supes here?” Landry scoffed. “You're what; twenty-six? You're not old enough to know what our kind is or isn't capable of.”

“I talk to people,” Davorin said; undaunted. “You're a bartender, you must have heard the same things that I have. Supernaturals from all over the galaxies love it here.”

“Landry isn't the type who enjoys small talk,” I said with a smirk.

“Regardless of what supes think of Earth, as soon as the Bleiten are mentioned, they'll flee,” Landry said. “You saw how fast they cleared out of Mama's the

other night, Mara.”

“Now that you mention it, I also heard there was an arc in Mama's.” Davorin swiveled his stare to me. “Why were you having dinner with an arc, Amara?”

“I was obviously there to warn her about the Bleiten,” Kyrian said as he walked up to the bar. “Now that you mention it; I never did get a chance to order a meal.”

Davorin angled his head to see Kyrian and then widened his gaze almost imperceptibly. But a flash of yellow streaked through his aura and gave him away. Colors are very complex. Different shades reveal different emotions and have different effects on a body. Yellow, for example, can bring laughter and happiness or it can make tempers flare. It all depends on the intensity, tone, and mixture. The yellow that had crossed Davorin's brown and blue aura had been deep and nearly orange; indicating surprise with a touch of anger.

“You've met,” I said feeling a little yellow myself.

“A Triari walking the streets of the Market is an unusual occurrence,” Davorin said as he stared down Kyrian. “I stopped him to see what he was doing here.”

“Boy, you got some big balls,” Landry said with an impressed chuckle.

“I thought so as well,” Kyrian said dryly.

“What did you tell him?” I asked Kyrian.

“I said that I was visiting a friend,” Kyrian said tonelessly.

“We are not friends,” I said just as tonelessly.

Davorin laughed when he saw Kyrian's blank expression. “It's okay, man, she said the same thing to me, and we've known each other for years.”

“That makes us acquaintances. We don't spend time together watching movies or doing friendly things, and so we aren't friends,” I said as I stood.

“We're spending time together right now,” Davorin pointed out.

I ignored Davorin to ask, “Kyrian, can I speak with you privately?”

“Of course,” Kyrian stood.

“Oh, it's like that, huh?” Davorin huffed. “Don't get up on my ; I was just leaving.” He slid off the bar stool and stood between Kyrian and me; his back to Kyrian. “Think about what I said, Amara. You may not consider us to be friends, but I do. I'm not about to let you become a statistic.”

Davorin brushed past Kyrian on his way out of the bar; making the Triari stumble. Kyrian blinked in surprise and a brief sheen of yellow pulsed through his halo. Surprise was making the rounds, it seemed. As Kyrian stared after Davorin, I stared at him. I hadn't had any interaction with Triari soldiers before, but I'd heard that it took a lot to breach their self-control. Davorin must have seriously shocked him.

“Tougher than you expected?” I asked Kyrian.

“Excuse me?” Kyrian refocused on me.

“Davorin.” I motioned after my friendly acquaintance. “You seemed surprised when he knocked into you.”

“I seemed surprised?” He asked skeptically. “I doubt that.”

“You can't fool her, boy,” Landry said smugly. “Ol' Davorin shocked you. Why?”

“I'm not easily moved, and on top of that, I was prepared for Davorin to make some barbaric display of his masculinity. So, yes; it did surprise me that he was able to sway me,” Kyrian finally itted. “He's stronger than I thought.”

“Davorin can turn himself into stone. One of his favorite tricks is to do so internally and harden his core,” I took pity on Kyrian and explained it. “He appears to be his normal self when in actuality, he's rock solid.”

“Ah.” Kyrian nodded. “Yes; I've met others like him before. It makes sense now.”

“You've met others like Davorin?” I asked. “I thought he was unique.”

“Stone men are rare, but they pop up every now and again,” Kyrian said. “They make excellent spies.”

“The statue thing,” Landry said with a nod. “I can see that. They'd be hiding in plain sight.”

“Do you still need privacy to speak with me?” Kyrian asked pointedly.

“No; I just didn't want Mr. Superhero to hear this,” I huffed.

“Superhero?” Kyrian asked with a slight frown. “He thinks he's some kind of savior?”

“In a way.” I waved it aside. “Forget about Davorin. I met with the President yesterday, and he'd like to meet with you.”

“The human president?”

“Yes.”

“Of the United States?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Kyrian said as he settled back on his stool.

“No?” I gaped at him. “Why not?”

“I'm an arc, not a diplomat,” he said. “I'm not allowed to speak on behalf of our race.”

“You're not allowed?” Landry scoffed.

“No,” Kyrian said simply.

“Then get someone here who is,” I said. “Because we may have a Bleiten situation brewing outside the Supermarket as well as in.”

“Outside the Market?” Kyrian narrowed his eyes at me. “What does that mean?”

“A group of supernaturals robbed a bank yesterday,” I explained. “They were speaking Bleiten.”

“A bank?” Kyrian cocked his head at me. “Why would Bleiten want human money?”

I shrugged. “They took some money and emptied a few safe deposit boxes.”

“Which bank?” Kyrian asked.

“Wells Fargo,” I said. “It's right down the street from the White House.”

“All right.” He stood. “Let me my people and hear what they have to say about it. Stay here.”

I gave Kyrian an irritated look as he headed to an empty corner of the bar. As if I'd run off now; how imbecilic. Kyrian pulled a device out of his coat; it was about the size of his thumb and made of shiny, silver metal. He started speaking into it, and his expression shifted into even more serious lines. I watched his aura carefully but there were no more flashes of color to give me a clue as to what he was hearing. Finally, he strode back over to us.

“Take me to your leader,” he declared.

Landry burst out laughing while I rolled my eyes, and Kyrian frowned in confusion.

Chapter Nine

The President was sending a car for us so Kyrian and I waited outside the Supermarket gate to be picked up. The Arc was on high-alert the whole time; scanning the area from the ground, up to the sky, and back down again.

“What do you do for fun?” I asked him.

“Fun?” He looked baffled.

“When you're not on a mission,” I prompted.

“When I'm not on a mission, I'm training for one,” he said immediately.

“You just work constantly?”

“I suppose you could see it like that.” Kyrian frowned. “But I wouldn't know what to do if I wasn't being an arc.”

“You could read a book,” I suggested.

“Oh, I read a lot,” he said with an almost-smile. “I do enjoy that.”

“Really? What do you like to read?” I asked with genuine interest.

“Historical records, works on strategy and warfare, and soldier s of missions,” he said.

“So, you read work-related things.” I grimaced. “How about movies? Do you like movies?”

“I've never seen one.”

“You've never seen a movie?” I gaped at him.

“No; it seems silly to watch something that someone else has made up,” he said. “Like allowing yourself to be drawn into a lie.”

“But you know it's not real,” I reasoned. “It's just to entertain you; to make you feel as if you're living someone else's life for a little while.”

“I don't wish to live a different life.”

“Good for you,” I said with a sigh. “Most people like to experience something

new.”

“Are you unhappy, Amara?” Kyrian stopped scanning the street to focus on me.

“No,” I said. “But I'm not exactly blissful either.”

“You seem very content.”

“Content is not the same as happy,” I pointed out.

He frowned as if he didn't understand.

“You might realize that if you did things that weren't related to being an arc,” I suggested. “All work and no play makes Kyrian a dull boy.”

“If you say so.”

“This is going to get old fast,” I muttered. “I'm all about professionalism, darling, but do you think you can loosen your tight rein on those emotions of yours while you're around me?”

“No,” he said immediately.

“Why not?”

“It would be against policy.”

“Aren't you required to be flexible?” I asked. “You should be allowed to make your own judgment calls.”

“I am,” he said thoughtfully. “I'm an arc; I can choose to do as I deem necessary.”

“Then, for the comfort of your... what is it that you call me?”

“My charge.”

“For the comfort of your charge, why don't you tone down the halo a bit?”

“Tone down my halo?” He asked in confusion.

“Your halo; the white light surrounding you.”

“Yes; I know what a halo is,” he said stiffly. “I just don't know what you mean

by asking me to tone it down.”

“Most people have colors in their auras,” I explained. “You Triaries only have white. It's because you're suppressing all of your emotions; their colors don't show through.”

“You can see auras?”

“I can see a lot of things,” I said evasively.

“Does that have anything to do with what you did to me the other night?” He asked with an air of scientific interest. “It took me two hours to get my emotions back under control.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” I looked away.

“All right; keep your secrets, Amara,” Kyrian said with a pensive look. “For now.”

“I will; they're important to me,” I said. “As your control is to you.”

Kyrian nodded in a conciliatory manner.

“What did your say when you checked in?” I asked him to get us off the touchy subject.

“You'll hear it soon enough.” He nodded to a black SUV that was approaching. “I'd rather not tell it twice.”

The vehicle pulled up to the curb, and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum got out. I couldn't their names; it was the same agents Colton sent to fetch me before. What was it that I'd been calling them in my head? I had given them the same initials to remind myself. Dawson's Creek and Daniel Craig! Yes, that was it; Agents Dawson and Craig.

“Hello, gentlemen,” I said brightly as I climbed into the car. “This is Kyrian; he's an arc angel. So, be nice or he'll bring the wrath of the Triari down on your heads.”

The agents looked at each other with tired vexation and then shut the door on Kyrian and me.

“They like you,” Kyrian said dryly.

I lifted my brow. How the hell was Kyrian cracking jokes without any emotion? Sure, it was more sarcastic than humorous, but sarcasm required some feeling behind it; even if it were only derision. I should know; I'm the Queen of Sarcasm, and I rule the Kingdom of Derision.

But as I pondered Kyrian and his possible journey through my kingdom, he transferred his gaze out the window and went so still that even Davorin would have been impressed. Only Kyrian's eyes moved; roaming the streets for anything suspicious. I got the sense that this was more of his Host training. Perhaps he was conserving energy for when it was needed most while also being vigilant; keeping his mind active while his body rested in the most efficient way possible. That would be impressive. Or perhaps he was just too lazy to move his head.

It probably would have been prudent to tell Kyrian about my color abilities, but I didn't trust him yet. For all I knew, he'd take that information and go straight to his commanders with it. In fact, I was almost positive that's exactly what he would do. And the last thing I needed was for the Triari to know that the Amaranthine Elixir hadn't just given me eternal life, it had also mutated my human DNA. My father had known these people well, and he didn't tell them about me. That was a pretty clear indication that I shouldn't either. Then again, Father hadn't told them anything about me because he wasn't supposed to recreate the vaccine. And yet the Triari found out, didn't they? They'd probably find out about my abilities as well; most of the supes in the Market knew. It wasn't as highly guarded a secret as I'd made it out to be.

But still, I'd continue to keep it from the Triari for as long as I could.

Chapter Ten

Kyrian was treated to a full diplomatic welcome. President Colton greeted us in the Oval Office and offered us coffee and pastries before he suggested that we make ourselves comfortable. Also in attendance were Vice President Theodore French and the Secretary of State Annette Johnson. The Vice President was about twenty years older than Colton, and the Secretary of State was an African American woman who looked even older than that. They both greeted us—I was surprised to be acknowledged as a visitor instead of an employee—and then they proceeded to kiss Kyrian's ass.

“Mr. President,” Kyrian interrupted the ass-kissing, “I've been given temporary authority to speak with you on behalf of the Triari until a superior officer arrives. Mainly, I wanted to warn you of his arrival. A fleet of Triari ships will soon be positioned above North America. Commanding them will be Prince Atren, and when he arrives, he will take over for me.”

“A fleet?” Colton asked. “How many ships is that?”

“Twelve,” Kyrian said. “With approximately four-thousand soldiers on each.”

The Vice President and the Secretary both started to speak in indignant tones, but Colton held up a hand and shook his head at them.

“That seems excessive,” Colton said diplomatically to Kyrian.

“We do not take Bleiten threats lightly,” Kyrian said. “The Host won't descend to Earth unless necessary; only Prince Atren and his entourage will transport down to speak with you. They aren't coming here to threaten America, President Colton. I was under the impression that you were in need of our assistance.”

“Yes; we very well may be, although it's not completely certain yet,” Colton glanced at me. “I assume that Amara briefed you.”

“She provided me with some information about a robbery,” Kyrian said. “She also mentioned that there were safe deposit boxes taken.”

“That's right.” Colton cocked his head at Kyrian. “Why? Is that important?”

“It could be,” Kyrian itted. “Have you discovered who the boxes belonged to?”

Colton looked at Secretary Johnson, and she pulled a sheet of paper out of a file on her lap. She handed it to the President, and he handed it to Kyrian. Kyrian scanned the names and then frowned. His lips pressed together tightly as he handed the paper back.

“The third name from the top; Mr. Samuel Devlin,” Kyrian said. “He was a scientist who worked with the Triari.”

“What does that mean exactly?” President Colton narrowed his eyes at Kyrian.

“I cannot divulge the particulars,” Kyrian said with a stubborn set to his chin. “You'll have to request that information from Prince Atren.”

“Whatever he did for the Triari, it seems it was serious enough to warrant a visit from the Host,” I pointed out. “Was it this possibility combined with the Bleiten involvement that prompted their arrival?”

Kyrian nodded.

“So, whatever was in that deposit box, the Triari don't want it in Bleiten hands,” Colton surmised.

“Correct,” Kyrian confirmed.

“This makes it even more likely that the robbers were Bleiten,” Colton said to me.

“Or that they were hired by the Bleiten,” I suggested. “If the Bleiten wanted to retrieve something from Earth secretly, it might be in their best interests to hire others to do the menial labor.”

“And make such a show of it?” Colton asked skeptically. “I don't know. The whole thing feels wrong to me.”

“The Bleiten King has a son who is rumored to have a more modern mentality

than his father,” Kyrian said; surprising us all. “He's proved himself in the Horde and has advanced to the rank of Warlord; earning enough respect and influence to be heard and taken into consideration. He's been making changes in the way the Horde functions and the policies of the race as a whole. It wouldn't surprise me to find that hiring outside help was one of those changes.”

“Okay, so hired mercenaries is a possibility,” Colton concluded. “Now, could you take a look at the footage for us and see if you recognize any of these men, Arc Kyrian?”

“Of course,” Kyrian said as he took a tablet from Secretary Johnson.

Kyrian watched the recording carefully—the same one I had seen—but neither his expression nor his aura gave anything away. When he handed the tablet back, he was as calm and collected as usual.

“None of them look familiar, nor do they appear to be Bleiten,” Kyrian said. “Although, it's difficult to determine much with those masks covering their faces.”

“Do you think that the one who dripped this thick substance could be a Bleiten experiment?” I asked him.

“I suppose it's possible that an experiment shrunk and mutated him, but that's a leap without much of a starting point,” Kyrian said.

“The man can burn a hole through stone with his snot,” Colton said. “Shrinking doesn't seem all that impressive in light of that.”

“Fair enough,” Kyrian conceded. “I will remain open to the possibility that this man is Bleiten.”

“I think it's asking a lot to remain open to the possibility that he's a man,” the Vice President said with a disgusted look at the video.

Colton lifted a brow at his VP, but the comment hadn't been made maliciously against supernaturals as a whole. He'd simply been grossed out by what this particular person could do. I saw it in his aura.

“Sorry,” the VP mumbled.

“No offense was taken, Mr. Vice President,” I said. “I'm just as disturbed as you are.”

“Thank you, Ms. Madison.” The VP gave me a grateful grin.

“Since you asked me to identify them, I assume that these other men are unknown as well.” Kyrian motioned to the video.

“For now,” Colton said. “Homeland Security has tracked two of them to apartments in the D.C. area, but they haven't been able to identify the men as yet.

The apartments are rented under false names and paid for in cash. They were, however, able to bug both units. We're hoping to have recordings for you to translate soon, Amara.”

“If you're able to email them to me or play them over the phone, that would probably save us time,” I said.

“I think DHS can manage that,” Colton said. “But Vice President French can take you down to the office we set up for you, and you can speak with Special Agent Longchamp about it. She's manning the office as your and can answer any questions either of you may have about the investigation.”

“I would like to look over their work,” Kyrian said with a nod.

“Very good,” Colton said as he stood and held a hand out to Kyrian. “I'll await the arrival of Prince Atren.”

“It was an honor to meet you, President Colton.” Kyrian shook his hand.

“And you, Arc Kyrian.”

I nodded my goodbye to Colton and Secretary Johnson as the VP led us out of the Oval Office.

Chapter Eleven

I haven't read extensively about space travel, but I knew the basics. Most alien races had spaceports set up in all of the known inhabited galaxies. These ports served as jump points for ships to be launched into and out of. Spaceships can travel from port to port within moments so most of their flying time occurred in the journey to port. The same type of jumping travel can be employed with individuals over much smaller distances, but again; it's port to port. Neither people nor ships can be launched to random locations without a receiver, but once ports were in place, space travel became relatively quick. The White House happened to have a reception port in its secure Alien Relations room and it had been activated to receive Prince Atren and his escort.

So, a few hours into our conversation with Special Agent Longchamp—who was beyond relieved to be working with me outside of the DHS building—Kyrian received a call. The VP had escorted us to the room and left so it was just Kyrian, Longchamp, and I. We had gone over all of Homeland Security's findings by that time, and Kyrian was concluding our meeting by perusing a folder of suspects. So, he simply thanked Longchamp for her time and exited the room to take the call. While he was gone, SA Longchamp assured me that she could forward any recordings requiring translation to me via phone. That was a relief; visiting the White House was interesting but also a pain in the butt.

After a few minutes, Kyrian returned and announced, “Prince Atren has arrived and is requesting our presence at his meeting with President Colton.”

“What? Why?” I asked with suspicion.

“I believe that he wishes to meet you.” Kyrian gave me a meaningful look.

“I can take you back to the President,” SA Longchamp said. “Let me just make a call and see what room they'll be using.”

“Thank you,” Kyrian said with a nod.

Longchamp led us to—and then left us in—the Roosevelt Room; a room directly across from the Oval Office that's used for staff meetings normally and as a preparation room for large delegations before they meet with the President. It was perfect for a private meeting with an alien prince.

The Roosevelt Room was named after both Roosevelt presidents, in case you were wondering, and there are portraits of both men there. Food and beverages had already been laid out down the long conference table, despite the short notice. Kyrian and I helped ourselves to another cup of coffee under the watchful eyes of Theodore Roosevelt on horseback. Then we settled into a couple of the padded, leather chairs set around the table and sipped our coffee beneath the faux skylight.

The door to the right of the fireplace opened (there was one to either side) and President Colton walked in with the Vice President, the Secretary of State, a group of Triari, and three White House aides. One of the Triari was obviously Prince Atren; he walked beside the President and carried himself with the stuffy dignity of a member of the British monarchy... times ten. Despite the title of 'Prince' being one of military rank and not a sign of nobility among the Triari— or maybe because of it—Atren had the airs of someone highborn.

“Ah; they have beat us here,” President Colton said with a casual wave my way. “Have you met my top translator, Prince Atren? This is Amara Madison.”

“No, I haven't yet had the pleasure,” Prince Atren smiled warmly at me.

“It's an honor to meet you, Prince Atren,” I said with a respectful nod.

It was all I could do not to gape at the man. Not because he was stunningly attractive—which he was—but because he had no halo. The man's colors were out on full display; a vibrant wash of several shades of blue; from wise indigo to cerulean dependability, and even a touch of cold, aloof, ice. Then, weaving through it all, was a streak of jet-black authority and the slightly softer, inky darkness of strength. You may think that black in an aura would automatically mean evil, but it doesn't. Evil is rare to see in an aura; true evil isn't as prevalent as you may think. But I have seen it once—when I was peering through the cracks of the cabinet my mother had hidden me in. It was the purest black; a black that consumed all other colors. I will never forget it.

But this man wasn't evil; far from it. Blue was most people's favorite color for a reason; several tones were calming and imparted trust. Prince Atren appeared— judging by his aura alone—to be here with the best of intentions. Whether those good intentions included me, was yet to be seen.

As uncertain as Prince Atren's general intentions were, his personal interest in me became immediately evident by his actions. He took my hand and brought it to his lips to kiss lingeringly. An auburn curl dropped forward over one of his amber eyes in the most endearing way, but I was more interested in what I caught out of the corner of my eye—the slightest hint of cayenne red in Kyrian's aura. That startled me even more than Atren's display. The Prince had annoyed the Arc. But despite Atren's bold flirtation, I saw no hint of romantic attraction in

the Prince's aura. He was trying to charm me for another reason, and I didn't like that at all.

“You have the most amazing eyes,” Prince Atren purred.

“A gift from my father,” I said coolly as I pulled my hand away from the Prince.

Kyrian's lips twitched.

“Your father was an amazing man,” Atren went serious. “I would like to speak to you about him after this meeting.”

“I assumed so,” I said; keeping my tone neutral.

“You knew Amara's father?” President Colton asked in surprise. “This is an odd coincidence.”

“He doesn't know?” Atren asked me with similar shock.

“I didn't know up until a few days ago,” I said with narrowed eyes. “And this meeting is not about me.”

“Still, I'd like to know what he's talking about, Amara,” Colton said sternly.

“My father was Triari and my mother was human,” I said crisply. “Now, if we're done wasting time on my lineage, perhaps I should wait outside.”

“Nonsense,” Prince Atren waved an elegant but large hand. “You are Triari, and you have skills that may be useful. Please attend us, Lady Amara.”

I frowned at the title he gave me, but I didn't say anything. I just nodded and stepped back so the President and the Prince could take their seats first. Two men from the Prince's entourage sat to either side of him, and the rest of the Triari stood along the wall and watched. The VP and Secretary bracketed the President as well, and the three aides sat further down. I took a seat beside Kyrian at the end of the table and sipped my coffee. I knew that the only reason I was there was that Atren wanted to keep an eye on me.

Kyrian had already explained the situation to Prince Atren and informed him about the safety deposit box ed to Samuel Devlin. So, Atren needed just the briefest of recaps before he watched the video. Then he ed the tablet to his guards, and they watched it. None of them gave anything away in their expressions, but Atren's aura turned a bright, angry red.

“Arc Kyrian has informed me that Samuel Devlin was in the Triari's employ,” Colton said to Atren. “Can you tell me what he was hired to do?”

“Mr. Devlin came to our attention around fifteen years ago for his work in bioengineering,” Atren said. “He made some discoveries that were of interest to us.”

“What kind of discoveries?” Colton asked.

“He was able to isolate a type of bacteria that reacted aggressively to Bleiten cells,” Atren said grimly.

President Colton stared at Prince Atren a moment before asking, “Did the Triari hire Devlin to create a bioweapon against the Bleiten?”

“Yes,” Atren said without hesitation. “However, before he succeeded, we released Dr. Devlin from our service.”

“You fired him?” Colton asked in surprise.

“His morality came into question,” Prince Atren said stiffly. “There were reports of him luring homeless humans into his lab to experiment on.”

“Why would he experiment on humans if he was creating a bioweapon geared toward Bleiten?” Colton scowled.

“Precisely,” Atren said as if Colton were proving his point, instead of asking a question. “It was assumed that he had lost his wits. We have our own scientists who continued Devlin's work. Unfortunately, none of them have had any results.”

“I've heard some horrible things about the Bleiten,” Colton mused. “But I don't

know if they warrant biological warfare. Those kinds of tactics usually have repercussions that spread to innocents.”

Atren shrugged noncommittally. “The point is, President Colton, whatever there was in that bank box; it was most likely deadly.”

“You think that he created the weapon?” Colton asked.

“It's possible,” Atren said. “The Bleiten seem to think it's probable.”

I looked back and forth between the two men with exasperation. Was no one going to come to the same conclusion that I had? Finally, I cleared my throat. Everyone at the table glanced in my direction.

“This may be completely off-base,” I said. “But what if Devlin got angry over being fired and approached the Bleiten? Or perhaps the Bleiten found him and offered to fund his work if he created a different bioweapon; one targeting Triari. That would be far more valuable to the Bleiten, wouldn't it?”

Atren's expression went still and then horrified, Colton cursed vividly, and Kyrian lifted an impressed eyebrow at me.

“It's only a theory,” I pointed out, “and it relies on several assumptions; the first being that the Bleiten somehow lost with Dr. Devlin and never received their bioweapon.”

“But it would explain why the Bleiten wanted that box,” Colton said. “There could be notes on how to create a bioweapon in it.”

“There's also a chance that they simply wanted to destroy any references to a bioweapon that could hurt them,” Kyrian pointed out. “But I think Amara's theory is more likely.”

“We need to find these criminals,” Atren declared as he glanced at one of the Triari seated beside him.

Both of the men seated at the table with the Prince wore Arc pins on their lapels; Atren had a hell of an entourage. Or a heaven of one, as the case may be. One of the arcs was dirty-blond and the other had dark hair. The blond was the one who Atren had looked at; he stood up immediately and started for the door.

“One moment please,” Colton held up his hand.

The blond looked back at the Prince, and Prince Atren nodded. The Arc took up a military stance with his hands behind his back and waited.

“Yes?” Atren asked Colton.

“We need to coordinate our efforts in this,” Colton said. “If we both run off and conduct separate investigations, it could take us twice as long to find the criminals.”

“Perhaps,” Atren conceded.

“Jane can take your man to the Homeland Security office we've set up for Amara to work with,” Colton offered. “One of the agents is there; he can speak with her and see where he'd be of best use.”

Jane—a mousy woman in her late twenties—stood up and stared at the blond arc with wide eyes. Prince Atren nodded, and the Arc waved Jane out the door ahead of him with a polite bow. The poor woman looked as if she were going to pee herself. She hurried out the door—clasping a leather binder to her chest defensively—and not only did the Arc follow, but two other soldiers who had been standing along the wall also went with them.

The meeting was wrapped up shortly after that, and the President rushed off to do other presidential things while Prince Atren and his group were taken outside the White House to a line of waiting vehicles. In a show of American hospitality, President Colton had offered to house the Prince and his entourage in one of the finest hotels in D.C. for the length of their stay. Since the Prince still wanted to speak with me, Kyrian and I went along for the ride. But Prince Atren didn't wish to have our conversation overheard by our secret service driver so we didn't speak until after we reached The Willard Hotel. Prince Atren took my hand and whisked me across the lobby in a herd of Triari. We received several curious stares as the secret service agents checked us in, and then I was pulled along once more and deposited in an elevator; sandwiched between Kyrian and Atren. At the door to the Jefferson Suite, our secret service escort handed over the keys to one of the arcs along with a number to call when they'd like to return to the White House. He made sure that we all safely entered the suite before he left.

We walked into the set of luxurious rooms through a black and white, marble foyer. While the Prince got settled in the regal master bedroom, Kyrian took me past several sitting rooms and into an oval office. Yes; the presidential suite was indeed presidential. Fifteen minutes later, after room service had been delivered

(none of them had eaten what the White House offered), the Prince strode into the oval room in a casual button-down shirt and slacks. He poured himself a glass of Coke and took a seat across from me on a bland, beige sofa.

“Amara Madison,” Atren said in a musing tone. “You took your mother's name.”

“Did I?” I asked.

“Your father's surname was Elyonne,” he dropped that gem casually.

“Then I'm glad I went with Madison,” I shot back just as casually.

Prince Atren laughed suddenly; causing the other Triari to stare at him in surprise. He ignored them.

“When we first discovered that you were not only alive but had also been the recipient of the Amaranthine Elixir, we were shocked,” Prince Atren said.

“Yes; I'm sure their eyes widened a whole fraction of an inch,” I said dryly. Then I scowled as I realized what he'd said. “How did you find out about me?”

“We knew immediately that you needed to be located and protected,” he went on without responding to my sarcasm or my question. “But now, it appears that there may be more to this situation than we originally thought.”

“More? Are you saying that you believe these criminals have something to do with me?” I asked.

“It's too much of a coincidence.” Atren pursed his lips briefly. “First, we learn that you survived the murder of your parents, then we hear that Bleiten are hunting you, and now a bunch of supernaturals with connections to the Bleiten are making the U.S. President very nervous.”

“There are supernatural women disappearing too, Prince Atren,” Kyrian added. “And they all have eyes similar to Amara's.”

“So, they are looking for you,” Atren concluded as he stared at me. “Scientific notes stolen and a hunt for a woman with eternity in her eyes. I'm not sure what the Bleiten are after; immortality our destruction. Perhaps it's both.”

I blinked in surprise.

“At least I came up with one theory on my own,” Atren said teasingly. Then he went serious. “For now, I think you should stay here with us, Amara.”

“No, thank you,” I said politely.

“You misunderstood,” Atren said with a soft smile. “That wasn't an offer, it was an order.”

“I'm only half Triari,” I stood as I spoke. “And as far as I'm concerned, you abandoned that half when you sent my father here.”

“We sent your father into hiding, not banishment,” Atren said as he surged to his feet. “We were protecting him!”

“And we both know how that worked out for him,” I said in a low, dangerous tone. “I think I'll take my chances on my own.”

“Sit down, Amara!”

“You sit down, Prince Asshat; sit right down on that enormous ego of yours and spin,” I said calmly.

Kyrian made a choking sound as he stood.

“Get her out of my sight!” Atren said to Kyrian.

“I can do that all on my own,” I said as I strode toward the door.

Two Triari soldiers slid in front of it to block my way.

“Well, what is it; out or in your sight?” I shot back at Atren.

“You're leaving this room but not this suite.” Atren waved at Kyrian.

Kyrian grabbed my arm, and the door guards moved aside for us. He roughly escorted me from the room and down the hallway.

“Kyrian, darling, if you don't remove your barbaric grasp from me this instant, I will lay you low again,” I growled beneath my breath.

“Not in front of them, you won't,” Kyrian said as he glanced at the Triari in the sitting rooms we ed. “If that was an option for you, you would have done it already. But you don't want them to know what you can do.”

That angel asshole called my bluff.

“And turning yourself invisible won't work if I'm holding your arm,” he went on.

“How do you know that I went invisible?” I smiled smugly. “I could have simply disappeared.”

I doused Kyrian in sour orange, and he released my arm as he started to gasp for air. Orange light has a direct effect on breathing, and I knew how to manipulate it to hurt as well as heal. As Kyrian clawed at his throat, I covered myself in the colors of the hallway and went invisible. Kyrian smacked the wall with his fist to

get the attention of the other Triari, but I was already down the hall and through the suite's door by the time they noticed. The Triari ran for Kyrian—in the opposite direction of me—as I ran for the elevator. I pulled back the orange light as the elevator arrived and leapt inside to frantically push the button for the first floor. The elevator dinged, the doors shut, and as I descended, I heard Kyrian shouting my name.

I giggled all the way home.

Chapter Twelve

I was a block away from my house when I realized that I probably shouldn't go there. I was fairly certain that Kyrian had been watching me the other night, which meant that he knew where I lived. It would be the first place he led the Triari to. The Wilds would be the next, and I didn't want to bring trouble into Landry's bar, nor did I want Mama involved. I had a few friends, but I didn't want to strain those precious relationships with Triari/Bleiten stress. There were a couple of hotels in the Market, but that would be another obvious place to look for me. I suppose I could have gone back out of the Market and found a human hotel, but I would have felt exposed there. I stood on the sidewalk and chewed my lip as I debated and then finally made a pained expression.

“I can't believe I'm going to do this,” I muttered as I turned down a side street.

“Do what, pretty-eyes?” A low, growling voice asked casually.

I flinched. Even from behind me, I could see his aura; it was that imposing. A powerful dark gray base was slashed through with splotches of red in cardinal, crimson, and terracotta. Terracotta; another word for dirty-red. The cardinal red of excitement and crimson attraction didn't bode well either, but it was the streak of pure black evil that made my blood run cold. I had a sneaking suspicion of who this guy was, and he wasn't a Triari.

I didn't try to run from the Bleiten. I knew that would be useless, even if I made myself invisible; Bleiten can see in infrared. So, I had to attack him and in such close quarters, that could be tricky. My biggest weakness is my sight. Take away my vision, and you took away my abilities. The easiest way to explain it is to

explain color itself; color exists only in the mind. Objects give off light that receptors in our eyes perceive to be color. Technically, spectral power distributions exist in the physical world, but color only exists in the eye of the beholder. Without my eyes translating those frequencies into colors, it was difficult for me to manipulate them. I could probably alter colors, but I'd have no control over what I was altering; I'd be shooting in the dark. In short; if I didn't have to expose my eyes to my opponent and risk being blinded, I wasn't going to. And, with the Bleiten's bulging aura, I didn't have to; I could see it just fine from where I was.

I twisted the reds to pastel pink—the color of submission—and drove that demon bastard to his knees as easily as I had done to Kyrian. The Bleiten groaned, and when I glanced over my shoulder, our eyes met. His were toxic yellow and wide with shock. I didn't gloat or take the time to kick him while he was down—as tempting as that was—I just ran.

I didn't stop running until I reached Davorin's door.

“What the fuck?” Davorin asked as he looked over my rumpled state. “Get in here, Amara.”

Good; he was using my given name. That meant he knew it was serious. Davorin yanked me into his apartment and then leaned out to search the stairwell before he slammed the door and slid a bolt into place. Then he helped me to a leather sofa that looked as if he'd found it on the street. Despite its appearance, it was comfortable, and when Davorin pulled a thick blanket off its back and tucked it around me, it became even more so.

“Tell me,” Davorin said simply.

“Bleiten,” I whispered. “About two blocks from here. He tried to grab me.”

“Motherfucker!” Davorin surged to his feet and headed for the door.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” I nearly screeched.

“I'm going to find him and follow him to wherever he's hiding those women,” Davorin said as he slid into a leather jacket.

“Don't go out after him alone,” I said urgently. “He was big; really fucking big and there was evil in his aura.”

“You worried about me, Prism?”

“Prism?” I grimaced. “That doesn't even make sense, and it sounds like something obscene.”

“Obscene?” He frowned. “What do you... oh. That's gross, and I'm shocked that you even know that word.”

“I know all of the words,” I said as if he should have known that. “And I know the connection you were trying to make with colors, but it's not applicable to what I do.”

“Whatever,” Davorin huffed. “If I have to explain the name, it's no good.”

“None of those idiotic names are any good,” I growled.

“Well, what the fuck would you call yourself?”

“I don't know!”

“Then don't get mad at me for trying! You have to come up with something better before you can knock my suggestions and act so damn superior.”

“Spectra!” I shouted.

“Spectra?” Davorin got a goofy look on his face. “That's actually really cool. I dig it. But isn't it called a color spectrum, not a color spectra?”

“Spectrum is singular; the distribution of colors produced when light is dispersed by a prism.”

“See? Prism.” He waved at me like I had proven his point.

“Yes, but as I said earlier; it's not applicable. I see more than that,” I pointed out. “I see—and can manipulate—all the spectra.”

“Spectra is the plural form,” he concluded.

“Yes; well done,” I snapped. “You got it after I explained it to you.”

“Hey, relax,” Davorin said as he came back to the couch. “I'm not going out there, okay?”

Davorin put his arm around me and eased me against his side. I sat stiffly for a moment before I relaxed against him. He was surprisingly comfortable for a guy who was so solid, and I enjoyed the scent of man and leather that rose up around me.

“I'll call someone on my team, and have them patrol the area. If they can find him, they can trail him,” he said. “Can you give us a description?”

“He's a big Bleiten kidnapper with bright yellow eyes,” I said angrily. “Oh, and brown hair.”

Davorin chuckled. “Okay, that's a good start.”

“About six foot five,” I added. The more I thought about it, the more I ed. “Wearing human clothes; dark jacket, jeans, and a pale blue shirt.”

“Damn; that's pretty good. Hold on a sec.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Leo, we've had a Bleiten sighting. I'm helping a friend and can't leave, can you look for him?” He paused and smiled at me. “Good. Just track him; don't engage. He's six-five, yellow eyes, dark jacket, jeans, and a pale blue shirt.” He nodded as he listened again. “Yeah; he could lead us to those missing ladies. Great. Thanks.” Davorin hung up and angled his head down to look into my face. “I'm glad you thought to come here.”

“I was on my way home when I realized that I couldn't go there,” I itted.

“Because of the Bleiten?” He asked.

“No, because of the Triari,” I muttered.

I explained it all to him; the President, my father, the elixir, the Triari, and the criminals who spoke Bleiten. If I was going to endanger him, the least I could do was tell him the whole truth. By the time I was done, Davorin was more grimfaced than I'd ever seen him.

“That's why they're after you,” he murmured. “Fuck, Mara, you should have told me this sooner.”

“We're not exactly close, Davorin,” I pointed out.

“Close enough for you to come to me for sanctuary,” he shot back.

“Yes; that's a fair point,” I conceded with a smile.

“And the only reason we're not closer is that you're scared that you might like me too much,” he added.

“And then you took it too far,” I huffed.

“It's true, and you know it.” He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the chair beside him. “You think my friends and I are ridiculous. Therefore, getting involved with me would be ridiculous.”

“Well, yes; that's true,” I agreed.

“Why can't you understand that we just want to help people?” He asked me.

“I do understand that,” I said. “I just think it's silly.”

“Wanting to help people is silly?” Davorin lifted both brows.

“I don't turn my back on someone if they're being attacked in front of me,” I said defensively. “But actively roaming the streets at night like a supernatural cop— which we already have, by the way—is just dumb.”

“We have supernatural cops in the Market, not out there.” He waved his hand as if the human sections of the city were right outside his window. “They need our help.”

“They have their own police force who are perfectly capable of dealing with human criminals,” I said. “You can't spend your days watching over humans; it's exhausting, you have to hide what you are while actively using your abilities, and it doesn't pay—at all. In fact, every time you do it, you risk exposing all of us and getting arrested by humans.”

Davorin smiled softly. “Yeah; you're right. But it's also very rewarding. I saved two kids from a burning building the other night. The firemen couldn't reach them, but all I had to do was turn the surface of my skin to stone and walk through the flames.”

“And how did you get them out?” I asked.

“I wrapped them in a blanket and turned that to stone too.” He smirked. “Then I set them down on the sidewalk and disappeared into the smoke before anyone could reach me. I slipped into the crowd and was able to watch as their parents ran up and hugged them. They thought angels had saved their children.”

“They sound deranged,” I muttered.

“The children were talking about a man made of stone who saved them,” Davorin said. “I suppose it seemed miraculous, and—unfortunately—angels

often get credit for miracles.”

“As I said; deranged. So, where were these delusional parents when their building caught on fire?”

“Out to dinner,” he said. “The babysitter abandoned the kids when smoke started seeping under the door.”

“That babysitter needs to be beaten,” I growled.

“No shit.” He grimaced. “But the point is; it felt good to save lives. It helps all this”—he held out his hands and shifted himself to stone and then back again —“make sense. It makes me feel less like a mistake and more like an improvement.”

“You are an improvement,” I said as I took his hand. “You're evolved; that's what the word means.”

“But I don't feel evolved,” he whispered. “I feel pointless. What's the purpose for a man to turn into stone, Amara? What could the possible evolutionary reasoning for that be?”

I blinked as I thought about it. Then I snapped, “Now, you sound like one of those racist assholes.”

“But if I don't do anything with my talent, then they might be right,” he said. “I don't want to be a parlor trick; I want to be Gargoyle—the man of stone.”

“The superhero,” I murmured.

“Wow; I think that's the first time I've heard you say that word without scorn.”

“It is,” I itted. “It's the first time I don't feel like it's something to make fun of.”

“Then—”

“No; I'm not ing your Scooby Gang,” I snarled and pushed him away. “Try your sappy, burning building story on someone else, Gargamel.”

“It's Gargoyle,” he corrected me with a little smile.

“Yes, of course, it is.” I laid my head on the arm of the sofa. “Do you happen to have any proper food in this place, Man of Stone?”

“I might,” Davorin said as he stood. “If not, we can order in.”

Davorin turned to head toward his micro-kitchen.

“Dav?” I whispered.

He looked back at me in surprise. No; I'd never used his nickname before either.

“Thank you.”

“Mi casa es Spectra's casa,” he said with a smirk.

I groaned and covered my head with a pillow.

Chapter Thirteen

“That Triari Arc is an asshat,” Davorin declared over a plate of pot roast pork, fried rice, and orange chicken. Oh, and eggrolls, of course.

“You know; two hours ago, I would have agreed with you,” I said. “But now that I've had some time to think it over—and filled my belly with a hot meal—I'm not so sure.”

“He was gonna lock you in a hotel room,” he pointed out.

“Because a prince told him to,” I said. “He's an arc; I don't think they have it in them to disobey their commanders. But here's the thing that's really given me pause; Kyrian didn't tell them what I did to him.”

“He doesn't know what you did to him.” Davorin chuckled.

“No, but don't you think it's odd that Kyrian didn't at least report his suspicions to the Prince?” I shot back. “Or even the incident in general?”

“Well, Prince Dick is gonna know something is up now,” he said.

“True.” I sighed. “Shit; I'm going to have to hide out from the President too or

he'll be obliged to turn me over to them.”

“Can't you ask for asylum or something?” Davorin asked.

“No; I'm a U.S. citizen,” I huffed. And then I gaped at him. “I'm a U.S. citizen! My mom was human!”

“Yeah; I know.” Dav frowned at me. “Calm down, Rosa Parks. No one's asking you to get in the back of the bus.”

“I mean; the Triari don't have the right to detain me; even if it is for my own good,” I explained. “I can report their treatment to the Market Police.”

“Do you think the MPD will help you?” He asked skeptically.

“They will when I tell them that I'm working with the President and that he won't want me detained either.”

“Maybe you should talk to the President first,” he suggested.

“I wouldn't even know how to reach him.” I grimaced.

“He put you on that assignment with Homeland Security,” Davorin huffed. “You

know how to reach your , right?”

“Yes; SA Longchamp,” I said in revelation as I reached for my purse. I pulled out my cell phone and called her. “Hello, Special Agent Longchamp, this is Amara Madison, could you do me a huge favor and a message to the President for me?”

Davorin sat back in his seat and chortled around his mouthful of eggroll.

Chapter Fourteen

President Colton personally returned my call and gave me his private number. He assured me that the Triari would not be allowed to take me into custody of any kind and that if I wished it, I could stay in the White House under his protection. I pointed out that living in the White House would be nearly as restrictive as if I'd simply stayed with the Triari. Colton couldn't argue that. So, instead, he was going to send me my own personal retinue of secret service agents. They were meeting me at the Market entrance the following morning.

I spent the night at Davorin's apartment. He took the couch and gallantly gave me the use of his bed. He even changed the sheets for me. The room was the size of a breadbox, and the king-sized bed took up most of it, but it was clean and orderly, with a window to the left of the bed that let in a nice amount of moonlight. Except I needed darkness to sleep; light meant color, and color meant distractions. So, I pulled the drapes shut, climbed into bed, and shut my eyes.

I didn't sleep well; not only did I require darkness, but I also needed the comfort of my own bed to fall asleep soundly. On top of that, there was the stress of angels and demons to deal with. My troubles rolled around in my mind as I rolled restlessly in bed until weariness finally won out.

It seemed that as soon as my head hit the pillow, sunlight came peeping around the edges of the curtains.

I stumbled out of the bedroom—drawn by the scent of brewing coffee—and came upon Davorin; standing in a pair of boxer shorts, staring out of his living room window as he sipped a cup of coffee. The sight stopped me in my tracks.

The morning light brought out the red in Davorin's hair and turned his skin to golden bronze. It made lovely shadows around his muscles; particularly his biceps. The line of his back was also quite enjoyable; especially since it led the eye straight to the curves of his perfectly rounded rear end. He had a pensive look on his face and it gave his usually-youthful features some mature character; it made the angles of his jaw and the line of his nose appear more noble. In short; he looked amazing.

“You gonna stare at me all day, Spectra?” Davorin asked in a sleep-roughened voice.

“The sunrise does nice things for you,” I noted. “For a minute there, I thought I was in someone else's apartment.”

Davorin chuckled as he turned to face me, and then his gaze traveled down my sleep-deprived self.

“You look like someone else too,” he said.

“Someone who hasn't slept well?” I asked in a self-disparaging tone.

“Someone softer,” he corrected.

I cleared my throat and looked away. “Is there any more of that coffee?”

“Sure.” Dav went to the pot and poured me a cup.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

I took the cup, added sugar and cream, and went to sit on the sofa with it.

“I called Leo this morning; he didn't find the Bleiten who attacked you,” Davorin said as he wandered back into his bedroom. He came out a few minutes later fully dressed. “He searched a two-block perimeter and couldn't find anyone who matched the description you gave me.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope for,” I muttered.

“We'll keep looking,” Davorin offered. “They can't hide forever.”

“It doesn't seem very Bleiten of them to hide at all,” I noted.

“You're right,” he said with a scowl. “They must really not want anyone to know they're here.”

“That adds credence to my theory that they've hired mercenaries,” I said. “Maybe they're staying in the Market and focusing on me while they have their hired help out among the humans; stealing scientific notes.”

“Could be,” he agreed. “Hey, when are you supposed to meet those agents?”

I looked at my watch and frowned. “In twenty minutes.”

“I'll walk you there,” Davorin offered.

“Thanks,” I said as I got up to put my coffee cup in his sink. “And thank you again for letting me stay here last night.”

“You can crash with me anytime you like, Mara.” Davorin pulled me into a hug as I turned around and whispered into my ear, “Anything you need; I got you.”

I lifted my face to stare into his eyes; they'd gone a deeper shade of green—from ivy to moss. I didn't even want to look at his aura. Dav didn't seem so silly anymore and without that clown mask I'd put him in, his attractiveness was glaring. I was practically choking on it. I could hardly breathe, and the air I did manage to inhale was thick with his intoxicating scent. I swallowed roughly and pushed back far enough to inhale and come to my senses.

“I appreciate it, Dav,” I murmured as I shrugged into my coat and then ran a hand through my hair.

“Come on; let's go pick up your government goons,” he suggested; back to his carefree self.

Davorin took my hand, led me out of his apartment, and down to the street. His place was just a block away from mine so we were still within walking distance of the Market's entrance. The hand-holding got awkward about a minute down the road, and I casually slipped my hand out of his. Davorin's lips twitched— which distracted me—and I accidentally knocked against a man who was hurrying past, carrying a box of machine parts. He had yellow scales all over his face, but I only caught a glimpse of them as we collided.

“Shit! I'm sorry, lady,” he said as he righted his box.

“Not at all; it was my fault.” I waved off his concern.

“Thanks. Kind of you,” he murmured; giving Davorin a wary look.

Dav watched the guy rush away; his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Who the hell was that?”

And then I felt the sting.

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

“What's wrong?” Davorin looked back at me.

I held up my right hand; the one that had knocked against the man's box. There was an inch-long gash on my hand, and it was deep. Whatever had cut me must

have been razor-sharp for me not to have felt it.

“You want a band-aid?” He chuckled. “I didn't know you were such a baby, Spectra.”

“Davorin, I forgot to tell you,” I whispered fearfully as I pressed my other hand over the wound, “the Bleiten hired an Ungaru tracker.”

“What?” He growled as he searched the busy street. “Shit, Amara, you should have said something.”

“I forgot,” I repeated.

“Hurry!” Davorin covered my hands with his and pulled me all the way to The Wilds.

Thankfully, The Wilds was near the Market entrance so we were only about fifty feet away from it. It was too early in the day for the bar to be open, and it was too difficult for me to fish out my keys, so Dav had to pound on the door like a lunatic until Landry opened up.

“Someone had better be fucking dying,” Landry grumbled as he swung the door open.

“She got cut,” Davorin said as he barreled past Landry; dragging me with him.

“Fuck!” Landry shouted as he slammed the door and barred it. “There; the fucking Penbruth! Drench the wound.”

“It's already healing,” I protested. “I think we may be all right.”

“Just do it, kid! You still have blood on you.”

I shoved my hand over the bar sink as Dav poured a few shots worth of Penbruth on it. The blood washed away to reveal a closed wound but Landry set a lighter to my hand anyway. It burned the alcohol, not my skin, though it tingled a little over the healing cut and brought back some bad memories. I tried to suppress the images of bright white and bitter orange flames rising in my mind, but there were some wounds that never healed.

I felt the panic and frustration again as I changed the fire to blue and purple— calming colors—but they had no effect on the way it burned. I hadn't been able to save my parents, and I had been too scared to leave that cabinet and save myself. I don't know how long I would have sat there—letting myself burn—if Landry hadn't shown up and pulled me out.

As the flames died out on my hand, the memories faded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever blood that had been spilled today had burned; just as it had on the night my parents were murdered.

“Thanks, Landry,” I whispered.

“No problem, kid,” he said with as much relief as I felt. “Let me see that hand.”

I held it out again for him to inspect. It was completely healed; not even a red spot to show where the wound had been.

“It looks good,” Landry said with a sigh.

I nodded as I slumped on a stool and withdrew my hand. Then I saw Davorin at the window; staring up and down the street as if he were waiting for an army to lay siege to The Wilds.

“I think we're okay,” I called over to him.

“Your blood is in the air already, Amara,” Dav said grimly. “We are not okay; we're just better than we were a few minutes ago. I'm hoping that when the tracker scents you, enough time will have ed for the blood trail to have dispersed.”

“They're that good?” I asked in shock.

“They couldn't track things by blood if they weren't,” Davorin said. “I knew an Ungaru once; he could smell when it was his girlfriend's time of the month.”

“That's not exactly astounding,” I said.

“From fifteen blocks away,” Davorin amended.

“What?” I gaped at him.

“He could smell the blood from fifteen blocks away and know it was hers,” Davorin added. “And he knew the moment she stopped bleeding too. He'd always look at me and grin; flashing me those freaky teeth.”

“Yes; they're good with blood,” Landry said. “But if he shows up here, I'll just play stupid. It's a bar; people come here and get into fights; blood gets spilled.”

“True,” I murmured.

“What were you two doing together anyway?” Landry asked as he looked back and forth between Davorin and me.

“I spent the night at his place,” I started, and then I went on to explain the events of the day before. It took awhile.

“Kid, you know you can always come home,” Landry said with irritation. “I'd fight off the whole fucking Host for you.”

“I know, Land,” I whispered as I hugged him. “And that's exactly why I didn't want to come here. I went to the last place anyone would expect to find me.”

“Hey,” Davorin whined. “Not the last.”

“Smart thinking, kid.” Landry smoothed my hair with his rough hand and it calmed me as it had since I was a little girl. “Well, you'd best go and grab your human escorts; aka cannon fodder.”

“I know they won't be of much use against a supe,” I agreed. “But they could give me some precious time to escape. Guns work on most supernaturals; Bleitens included.”

“When you put enough bullets in one spot,” Davorin huffed. “If you don't, you'll only make them angrier.”

“On second thought, Davorin, can you fetch those humans for her?” Landry asked. “I'd prefer it if Amara stayed indoors until the gun-wielding fodder arrives.”

“Land, that's not nece—” I started to say but was cut off by Landry's glare.

“No problem,” Davorin said as he headed out. “Keep your phone out, Spectra. I may need you to who I am. You know how those guys can be.”

“Spectra?” Landry asked as he bolted the door behind Davorin.

“It's my superhero name,” I said with a grimace.

Landry chuckled, “You know; it's a good name—suits you.”

“Shut up,” I huffed and poured myself a shot of Penbruth... to drink.

“Easy on that, kid. You may need your wits about you.” Landry went behind the bar and pulled out a shotgun that looked as if it were made to hunt elephants. Correction; mammoths.

“What is that?” I asked with a lifted brow.

“My gun,” he said.

“What kind of bullets does it take?” I asked. “Or does it launch missiles?”

“It's Lesh-made,” he said. “I've been holding onto it for a special occasion.”

“That's a Bleiten-Blaster,” I whispered as I ran a finger over the barrel. “Landry... how long have you had this?”

“I got it about a year after I brought you home. It took me that long to find one, but I didn't give up until I did,” he said gruffly. “I wanted to be able to protect you if those fucking Bleiten bastards ever returned. And I'm glad I got it. We're going to get us some revenge; for your dad, your mom, and those of us who have had to go on living without them.”

I swallowed roughly and blinked back my tears. “Thanks, Land. I love you.”

“I love you too, kid.” He gave my hand a pat. “I was blessed to be given the task of raising you. I just wish it hadn't come at the cost of your parents' lives.”

“Me too.”

Our little moment was ruined by a pounding on the front door.

“Who is it?” Landry called as he lifted the blaster and aimed it at the door.

“King Arthur of Camelot,” Davorin called back. “Who the fuck do you think it is?”

Landry made a face at me. “You'd better not be sleeping with that moron.”

“I'm not,” I said.

“Good.” He started toward the door.

“But he may not be so much of a moron,” I muttered.

“Amara!” Landry hissed. “The man thinks he can save the world just because he can turn into a fucking statue.”

“I know.” I held up a hand. “But at least he wants to try. I just sit here and shake my head derisively. I give the world my contempt, but Dav gives it his heart. There's something to be said for that.”

“You are not contemptuous toward the world! I've seen you help people,” he said. “You act when the opportunity presents itself. But you don't go out there looking for trouble like a damn nobbit.”

“I just don't see the point.” I sighed. “It's all going to shit anyway. I'm just trying to keep my feet out of the filth for as long as possible.”

Landry frowned at that bit of cynicism but didn't say any more. He just went to the door and let the men in. Davorin didn't need to convince the agents after all. I guess they assumed that any supe letting them into the Market was good enough.

Four secret service men strode in, and over their shoulders, I glimpsed a black SUV parked at the curb. They immediately spread out, searched the bar, and then set themselves up around the room and at the front door. Once the place was

secure, an agent with dark umber skin and even darker eyes approached me.

“Ms. Madison, I'm Agent Washburn,” he introduced himself. “I'll be leading the team in charge of your security. If you need anything, let me know. If you want to go anywhere, I will coordinate the mission.”

“Going out is a mission?” I asked dryly.

“Now, it is,” he said just as dryly.

“How exciting,” I continued the tone. Then I waved at the men. “You've met Davorin. This is my foster father, Landry.”

“Sir.” Agent Washburn nodded to Landry, but then he noticed Landry's gun. “What in the world is that?”

“It's not from this world,” Landry said with a smirk. “This is a Bleiten-Blaster.”

“Shit,” Davorin whispered as he leaned in closer. “I've heard of them but I've never seen one.”

“Very few people have,” Landry said proudly.

“A Bleiten-Blaster?” Agent Washburn asked. “It kills demons?”

“That it does,” Landry confirmed. “It's one of the few weapons that can manage it with a single shot. It was invented by the Lesh; the one race who not only survived a Bleiten invasion but actually sent them running.”

“Unfortunately, they're not big on sharing,” I said. “It's nearly impossible to get a blaster, and that's about all you can get from them. The Lesh are serious about keeping strangers off their planet. They just want to be left alone, and they have the strength to ensure that happens.”

“They hoard weaponry that could save lives?” Washburn asked. “That seems selfish.”

“They look after their own,” I said with a shrug. “And as far as they're concerned; the strong are meant to survive. If you can't defend yourself, it's your fault.”

“Sounds a little like someone I know.” Davorin looked pointedly at me.

“It's not as if humans don't do the same thing to each other,” I pointed out. “Sharing weapons isn't like sharing the cure for cancer.”

“Fair enough,” Washburn conceded.

“Well, if a Bleiten walks through that door, he'll find out exactly how well we can defend ourselves,” Landry declared as he gave his gun an affectionate pat.

“But he won't live long enough to on the knowledge,” I noted with a smirk.

“I'm beginning to wonder why we're here,” Washburn said with a chuckle.

“You're here to keep the Triari off my back,” I said. “You can leave the Bleiten to us.”

“Gargoyle, Spectra, and the Greenman are on it,” Davorin added.

“Dav,” I said in a wincing tone as I shook my head.

“I'm not green,” Landry growled.

“Neither are greenmen,” Davorin said. “They're those nature gods.”

Landry frowned in thought. “No; I think they are green. They have leaves around their faces and shit like that.”

“Gargoyle?” Washburn asked Davorin. “Is that you?”

“Maybe.” Davorin eyed the agent warily.

“The D.C. Police are calling you a vigilante,” Washburn said. “In public, that is. A friend of mine's a cop, and he says that privately, most of them are rooting for you.”

“That's nice to know. Thank you,” Davorin smiled brilliantly.

“You're Gargoyle?” Another agent asked with an impressed tone. “You got the entire Maretti Family quaking in their boots. I heard that you turned LuckyHands Maretti into an ashtray.”

“Well, I intended him to be a bird-feeder, but ashtray works,” Davorin, aka Gargoyle, said.

I looked at him askance.

“I held the guy's hands out like this.” Davorin cupped his hands before him. “Then I stoned him.”

“Stoned him,” Landry chuckled.

I looked over at my foster father in surprise.

“It's funny.” Landry shrugged. “Cause he turned him to stone, but it also means getting high.”

“Yes; I know what it means, Landry.” I rolled my eyes.

“It's a good thing you turned him back to normal,” Washburn said to Dav. “Or I'd have to take you in for murder. Stopping the execution of a crime is one thing, but when you execute someone, it becomes a crime.”

“We have to be better than the bad guys or things get hazy,” Davorin said. “I wouldn't kill someone unless I absolutely had to.”

“You realize that I'll have to report your identity to the President,” Washburn said.

“You realize that will put me into one of those 'absolutely have to' situations,” Davorin shot back with a dangerous look.

We all went quiet, and then Davorin laughed.

“I'm just messing with you.” Davorin slapped Washburn's arm—which sent Washburn stumbling. “Tell the President if you want, but if you expose me, I'll have to stop helping, and then your police will lose their vigilante.”

“The President will feel required to report him to the Police,” one of the other agents said.

“Not President Colton,” Washburn said with a smirk. “Our boss knows that sometimes being the good guy means walking in the gray zone.”

“I happen to like gray,” Davorin said as he shifted a finger into pale gray stone.

“You may find yourself on the payroll, though,” Washburn warned him.

“Payroll?” Davorin asked in surprise. He glanced at me and winked. “Looks like this may not be a thankless job after all.”

I rolled my eyes and poured another shot of Penbruth.

Chapter Fifteen

After a few hours, it became evident that the Ungaru hadn't caught the scent of my blood. I felt confident enough—with my secret service escort—to head home and grab a few things to bring back to Landry's. Landry lived in a large apartment above the bar; it was where I'd grown up. He still kept my room set up for me. And now that Davorin had seen the blaster, he felt comfortable about leaving me with Landry.

Davorin's hero job didn't pay the bills yet, so he worked as a bouncer at Flamethrower's; a nightclub owned by an evolved who could—you guessed it— throw flames. So, when I left, Dav headed home as well; to relax for a bit before he had to head into work. I hugged him goodbye, and—despite our audience—it was less awkward than our last hug had been.

It wasn't far to my townhouse, but since the SS agents had brought a car, and it was easier to protect me when I was inside a vehicle, we drove to my house. When we arrived, we found Kyrian camped out on the cement stairs; confirmation that the Arc knew where I lived. Kyrian stood as soon as the SUV pulled up to the curb.

“Ma'am, stay here,” Washburn instructed me. “We'll deal with Arc Kyrian and let you know when it's safe to exit the vehicle.”

“Okay,” I agreed as I warily watched Kyrian through the tinted glass.

Kyrian didn't appear to be angry, but his halo was firmly in place so I wouldn't

have been able to tell either way. He could have been murderous, and I wouldn't know. Our eyes met as Washburn exited the car, but then the door was quickly shut between us. I watched Washburn's aura flash with bits of angry red and then flow over with blue as he tried to calm himself. Whatever Kyrian was saying to him wasn't going over so well. I kept my eyes on the Arc; if he made one odd move, I'd blast him with purple and put him to sleep.

But I didn't have to blast Kyrian. After a long conversation, he finally moved to the side, and Washburn opened the door for me. The other agents got out with me—all except the driver, who stayed where he was—and we moved past Kyrian together.

“No one was going to hurt you, Amara,” Kyrian said calmly. “We only want to protect you from the Bleiten.”

“When you don't give someone a choice, it's abduction, not protection,” I spoke as calmly as he had.

“Prince Atren can be difficult to deal with,” Kyrian went on as I climbed the steps. “He's an unusual prince, but he only wanted to help you.”

“You think Atren's difficult because he doesn't have a halo?” I asked in surprise. “That's probably the best thing about him. He's a pompous ass, but at least he's honest about it; unlike some men who hide behind aloofness and duty.”

“I have never hidden from anything in my entire life,” Kyrian said simply; no rancor or annoyance—which in itself was annoying.

“Let's get inside, Ma'am,” Washburn suggested as he waved me toward the door.

I nodded and unlocked the door for us. Washburn stayed beside me as the other two agents went to clear the house. Everything looked to be in order; no one had broken in and ransacked the place. I released a relieved breath; a little surprised that I'd been so worried about it. It would have been more surprising if the Triari had broken in and torn up the place; they just don't have the ion for that sort of thing.

“How can I be related to them?” I muttered as I climbed the stairs behind Washburn.

Then I froze. Was I like them? Did I keep a similar control over my emotions? I looked over into a mirror that hung in the stairwell and surveyed my face. Landry was right; I had a young face, but it was also stiff. My hair was a warm brown with reddish highlights, but I had it pulled back into a severe ponytail that made it seem darker. My lips were full, but I had them pressed into a harsh line, and my high cheekbones added to the sharpness of my expression. The softest thing about my face was the color of my eyes, but now I knew that wasn't me at all; it was the elixir. So, maybe I was more Triari than I'd hoped.

“Ma'am?” Washburn was at my elbow. “Ms. Madison?”

“Huh? Sorry,” I mumbled as I started up the stairs again.

I went into my bedroom after Washburn cleared it and then started packing my

bags. I also changed my dirty, rumpled skirt suit. I decided to wear something more casual since I wasn't going to work. I chose a pair of jeans and a fluttersleeve blouse. Then, in a burst of panicked rebellion at both myself and my heritage, I tore the rubber band from my hair and fluffed out my soft curls. They fell to the middle of my back in feminine glory. Then I smoothed some lip gloss over my lips as I willed them to relax. I looked over my new reflection and nodded. Better; not so cold. Just because I had a slightly cynical view of the world, it didn't mean I had to broadcast it all over my face.

I grabbed my suitcase and went downstairs with Washburn. He gave me a few side looks but didn't say anything about my new look; just waved everyone out before he took up the rear. Kyrian wasn't so discreet.

“Amara, you need to...” Kyrian just stopped and stared at me.

“What?” I snapped.

And then I saw the splash of crimson staining his pure aura. It was quickly sucked back into the white, but I'd definitely seen it; the angel was attracted to me. Interesting.

“You look nice,” Kyrian murmured. “I like your hair down.”

“Thanks?” I lifted a brow at him.

“Give us another chance, Amara,” Kyrian said with more fervor. “We're your

people. We—”

Something in Kyrian's jacket started vibrating just as Washburn's cell phone rang. Kyrian pulled out his little communication device as Washburn answered his phone, and both men went serious. Washburn's aura flared the orangeyyellow of shock while the barest tinge of red—bright, furious red—tinted Kyrian's. Kyrian's eyes widened as he stared at me, and then Washburn grabbed my arm.

“Ma'am, we need to get you to safety,” Washburn said as he ushered me into the car.

“I'm going with you,” Kyrian said.

“I was just about to make that offer, Sir,” Washburn waved Kyrian inside with me.

“Really? You're letting him come along?” I asked in surprise as I slid down the backseat.

But no one answered me; they were all too busy being secretive. But then, I guess that's part of their job. When we were all inside the SUV, Washburn instructed our driver to take us back to the White House using evasive tactics.

“Evasive tactics?” I tried again. “Are we being followed?”

“We may be,” Washburn said. “We're not taking any chances.”

“What just happened?” I asked on the verge of panic.

“The Willard Hotel has been attacked,” Washburn said.

“The Triari have been attacked,” Kyrian corrected. “It seems as if we're both lucky that you decided to run off last night, Amara. They're all dead.”

“Who are all dead?” I scowled at him in confusion.

“The Prince and his retinue,” Kyrian said stoically. “Every Triari in that hotel is dead. The only ones who survived are Arc Zane and his soldiers—who were helping Homeland Security at the time—and myself.”

“Was it the Bleiten?” I asked.

“I'm assuming so,” Kyrian said.

“But we don't have all the information yet,” Washburn added.

What do you mean? It would take a bunch of Bleiten to wipe out that many Triari. How can you not know for certain?” I asked, and then my eyes went wide

in horror. “Were all the witnesses killed?”

“It wasn't a bunch of Bleiten,” Kyrian said. “And there weren't any witnesses.”

“I'm not following,” I said. “Was it that group that robbed the bank?”

“They are definitely involved.” Kyrian nodded. “It appears to be a biological attack. Something was released into the rooms on the upper floor, and it must have killed Prince Atren and his men rapidly because none of them were even able to make it to the door.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “Devlin did make a bioweapon to kill Triari.”

“It appears so,” Kyrian agreed.

“Kyrian, I'm so sorry,” I said gently as I laid a hand on his knee.

“In a way, you saved my life.” Kyrian gave my hand a pat before he removed it from his knee and placed it back on my own lap. “There's nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“She's saying that she's sorry for your loss,” Washburn said with a reprimanding look Kyrian's way. “She's being kind.”

“Oh.” Kyrian blinked. “Thank you. They are all a great loss to the Host. But Arc Zane is a competent leader; he'll be taking control until a new prince is sent.”

“Okay, Spock,” I huffed. “I'm glad you're being so reasonable about this.”

“Who's Spock?” Kyrian asked.

“Someone you'd probably ire,” Washburn stepped in to assist me again.

“Oh, thank you,” Kyrian said.

I looked away so I didn't laugh at his serious face. But the situation was serious, and I wasn't amused for long. It had to have been the Bleiten, and the Bleiten would only attack the Triari for one of two reasons; to start another war, or to capture me. The Bleiten knew that I'd survive the bioweapon, despite my Triari blood. It would have been so easy for them to kill all of the Triari and then stroll in and snatch me up. That made more sense to me than the Bleiten killing a bunch of Triari simply to start a war. But if that were the case, they'd have to have known that I was there, to begin with. Someone must have told them.

I glanced at Kyrian and found him staring at me intensely. I had a feeling that he had come to the same conclusion that I had; we had been betrayed.

Chapter Sixteen

“Arc Kyrian, you've secured Amara Madison, I see.” A man stood as we walked into the meeting room; he was the blond arc who Prince Atren had sent to work with DHS. “Good work; at least you two are alive.”

“Thank you, but I wasn't the one to secure her,” Kyrian itted. “She was under the care of the American Secret Service.”

“Amara, are you all right?” President Colton came over and took my hand; easing me away from the Triari.

“I'm fine; thank you, Mr. President,” I said. “I'm a little shaken, though. I heard that there was an attack using a bioweapon and that all the Triari who were in the hotel are dead. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Colton said grimly. “But before we get into this, I should introduce you to Arc Zane. He'll be taking over for Prince Atren until his replacement arrives.”

“Arc Zane,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you, Ms. Madison,” Zane said. “I'm relieved that you weren't taken by Bleiten.”

“The only reason I'm safe is that I refused to let your prince detain me,” I said.

“Yes; that seems to have been a fortuitous rebellion,” he noted. “And President Colton has informed me that as a half-human who was born on Earth, you have the right to choose your allegiance, and you have chosen America.”

“That's correct,” I confirmed.

“Well, the Triari function a little differently than humans,” Arc Zane said. “You can't choose to be or not be Triari; you simply are or aren't. And not only are you Triari, but you also have Triari property within your blood.”

“Excuse me?” Colton placed himself bravely in front of me. “You need to explain that.”

“I haven't been given the approval to do so, President Colton,” Zane began. “I'm sorry—”

“My father was a Triari scientist. When I was little, I got sick,” I started to explain it to Colton.

“Ms. Madison, do not say any more,” Zane ordered me.

So, of course, I went on.

“He healed me with an elixir he invented,” I said to Colton. “They think I have remnants of this elixir in my blood, and they want it—despite all protests to the contrary.”

“What?” Colton looked from me to Zane. “That's why Prince Atren tried to keep her in his custody? Not because he wanted to protect her but because of this elixir?”

“That is not the entire truth,” Zane said to me chidingly.

“It's the simplified version,” I countered. “Would you like me to tell him the complete one?”

Zane grimaced at me.

“I would like to hear the complete version,” Colton said with a prompting look my way.

“Amara, please don't do this,” Kyrian said. “It will complicate matters.”

I didn't want Colton to know the whole truth about the elixir, but at this point, I'd have to tell him something or he'd never stop badgering me. And frankly, if he was going to defend me, he deserved to hear it.

“The Bleiten want me for the same reason,” I said to Colton. “They know about the elixir.”

Zane growled out a Triari curse, and Kyrian grimaced, but I also saw a flash of relief in Kyrian's aura. I had given Colton exactly what he needed to know and nothing more.

“The Bleiten want to take this healing concoction out of your blood?” Colton asked me.

“Mr. President, this is bigger than the blood of one woman,” a man seated at the conference table said. He was Latino; wearing an expensive suit and closelycropped hair. Several important looking people sat around him. “There has been a terrorist attack on U.S. soil. We have to strike back immediately.”

“Secretary Garcia, I think we all need to take a breath before we take drastic measures,” Colton said. “We wouldn't know where to strike, even if I approved it.”

“Hand Amara over to us, and you'll have one less thing to worry about,” Zane said. “Do not, and you will cause great tension between our people.”

“I won't be bullied, Arc Zane,” Colton growled. “We may not seem as strong as the Triari, but we humans have a few aces up our sleeves. We can give as good as we get. So, if your people want to make an intergalactic incident over a woman who is an American citizen by birth, you go right ahead. But Amara will be here with us when the shooting starts.”

“And I'll be holding my own gun,” I said; internally adding that the gun would be a Bleiten Blaster.

Zane's jaw clenched and a flare of red-hot fury scorched his aura briefly. He compressed it into white after a few deep breaths and then narrowed his eyes at me.

“This is not what your father would have wanted, Amaranthine,” Zane said. “That elixir is our property; he created it for his people.”

“And then he destroyed it and was sent into hiding here,” I went on. “He recreated it on Earth; a new version specifically for me. Therefore, neither it nor I am your property.”

“We'll see what Prince Traegur has to say when he arrives,” Zane said cryptically. “For now, I will concede your point to keep the peace.”

“Wonderful,” Secretary Garcia said sarcastically. “Now, can we talk about finding these Bleiten?”

“I thought you weren't certain that this was a Bleiten attack?” I asked. “Couldn't it be this group of robbers again?”

“Not likely,” Garcia huffed. “A ragtag bunch of supe bank robbers won't have the means to create a bioweapon, even with the notes of a scientist.”

“Who is this man?” I whispered to the President.

“The Secretary of Defense,” Colton whispered back.

I grimaced. If the Department of Defense was taking an interest, war was a distinct possibility.

“A Bleiten was caught on camera as he was leaving the hotel,” Colton said in a louder voice to me. “I think that's enough evidence for us to safely assume they were involved.”

I glanced at Kyrian and then brought up what was really worrying me. “Have you determined why?”

“Why?” The Secretary of Defense asked. “Because they hate the Triari.”

“But killing a prince?” I asked skeptically. “This will start another war. And if you want to start a war, wouldn't you wait for a bigger target? There are Triari ships right above us, wouldn't it be wiser to wait until more of those soldiers came to Earth before deploying a secret bioweapon for the first time? They had an element of surprise on their side that they'll never get back.”

“Perhaps they killed the Prince so that those soldiers would come on down,” Secretary Garcia said; giving me a more considering look. “Or are you trying to insinuate that this attack was about you, Ms. Madison? That they killed all those

Triari just to get at you?”

“They are after her,” Colton said pensively. “And all they want is her blood. They could take that easily from her corpse.”

I exchanged a weighted glance with Kyrian. No; I wasn't going to tell the President that I'd survive any kind of attack. The last thing I needed was for the humans to turn on me and try to take my blood too. Immortality was even more alluring when you had a shorter lifespan.

“Mr. President, the point I was trying to make was that if this is about me, even partially, then the Bleiten would have to have been informed that I was going to be at The Willard with the Triari Prince. I didn't even know that was going to happen until it did so how could anyone else have planned for it in advance?”

The room went quiet.

“We may need to do some digging in our garden, Mr. President,” Secretary Garcia said. “If Ms. Madison is correct, we have a mole.”

Chapter Seventeen

I didn't think there was anything more for me to do, as far as helping the investigation went, but I was wrong. An antique cabinet took up most of the far wall and its doors were open to showcase a large television. Maybe it was just a monitor, but I liked the idea that the President used it to relax and watch a football game every now and then. Anyway, my attention was directed to it, and the hotel security footage was brought up on the screen.

“We were able to isolate the Bleiten,” SA Longchamp said. “He seemed to be speaking to himself, but upon closer inspection, we noted the tiny comm device attached to his collar. We believe he was reporting to his superiors. Could you interpret the conversation for us, Ms. Madison?”

Longchamp pointed to the frozen image of a Bleiten on the screen. In particular; to a dot on his pale green collar. As with the human races of Earth, most alien races had distinguishable features that could be used to identify them. But you had to keep in mind that these races inhabited planets of their own, and they had sub-races with their individual traits. So, unless you were trained to recognize the distinctive features common to the collective race of a particular planet, you wouldn't be able to tell a Bleiten from a Brazilian. This one actually did look a little Brazilian; with dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin. He was thickly muscled and tall, but not beyond the bounds of humanity. What gave him away were the sharp ridges of his brow bones. Again, they weren't inhuman looking, but when combined with the other traits of bulk and predatory demeanor, they were a confirmation.

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

Longchamp hit Play on her little remote, and the video clip ran; with all the sound muted except for the Bleiten's voice. My jaw clenched as I listened, but I controlled my expression. What I'd failed to was that the Triari knew Bleiten too. It was simply prudent to know the language of your enemy. So, as I listened—my gut clenching with anxiety—Kyrian leaned toward the screen and narrowed his eyes. Then he transferred that hard stare to me.

“Not good,” I said to him.

“No,” he agreed and then transferred his concerned look to Zane.

“Did you tell anyone else that you were headed to the hotel, Ms. Madison?” Zane asked me.

“No,” I said softly.

“It appears that we have several translators in this room,” President Colton noted.

“They're our enemies,” Zane explained. “Every Triari soldier understands Bleiten.”

“Fine,” Colton said gruffly. “But I'll ask Amara to interpret since it's her job.”

“It appears likely that you have a traitor, Mr. President,” I announced soberly.

“The Bleiten was indeed giving a report; he said that there were Triari in the hotel but that the woman—I'm assuming he meant me—wasn't there. Then it sounded as if he were responding to a command to return to his unit.”

“So, they knew Prince Atren and you would be there,” Colton mused.

“Actually, he didn't say anything about the Prince,” I corrected. “But that could have been assumed when he mentioned the Triari.”

“Regardless, they knew that all of you would be there,” Garcia said. “And the only people who should have known that are the people who saw you walk out with Prince Atren and the secret service agents who drove you to the hotel.”

“Were there any communications made during the drive?” Kyrian asked.

Secretary Garcia looked at SA Longchamp, and she started shuffling through a file of papers.

“The only communications were made by secret service agents,” she said. “They used our standard name-replacement techniques for referring to any person of importance.”

“But aliases wouldn't be hard to figure out,” Kyrian said. “Especially if the listener knew who was likely to be discussed.”

“You're saying that someone could have been listening in on the agents' communications and figured out that we were transporting the Triari and Ms. Madison to The Willard?” Secretary Garcia asked.

Kyrian nodded.

“There's also the hotel staff,” SA Longchamp pointed out. “We had to reserve the Jefferson suite on short notice, and that is not a normal occurrence. One of the staff could have been bribed into revealing that important guests of President Colton's were staying at the hotel.”

“But how would they know about Amara?” Kyrian asked.

“Interview the hotel staff who were on duty during the Triari stay,” Secretary Garcia said to his aide. “And I want to know the whereabouts of everyone on the White House staff who would have known about The Willard. Analyze every piece of footage concerning all of those people for anything suspicious.”

“Yes, Sir!” The Secretary's aide stood and hurried from the room.

“That's all well and good,” a man said as he stepped into the room with yet another group of Triari. “But the best way to stop a Bleiten threat is to kill the Bleiten.”

“Mr. President,” a White House staffer stammered as she came in behind the man, “this is Prince Traegur and his escort; they have just transported in.”

“It's an honor to meet you, Prince Traegur,” President Colton said as he stood to greet the Prince. “Thank you, Ellie.”

The girl hurried out as the newest Triari jackass strode in. The room was getting crowded, and it was a big room.

“The honor is mine, President Colton,” Prince Traegur said tonelessly. “Now, the Bleiten. What's being done to find them and avenge the death of my fellow Triari?”

Traegur was another blond, sweet-faced Triari; your typical angel with radiant skin that any actress would kill for. But there was the glint of steel in his blue eyes, and his hands looked as if they'd held a sword recently. He strode toward the end-seat that Zane was in, and Zane smoothly got to his feet and shifted down one. The Prince settled, glanced around the table—briefly glaring at me— and then focused back on Colton. I frowned at that; he had obviously recognized me, but how?

“Mr. Secretary, can you brief the Prince?” President Colton formally asked Garcia.

As the Secretary of Defense went over the strategies being employed by several task forces that had been created with the sole purpose of finding the Bleiten, I began to grow more and more uncomfortable. The Triari presence was multiplying, and I wasn't sure if the President was going to be able to withstand the pressure to relinquish me into their custody. I didn't want him put in a position to start a war over me either. So, I quietly slid out of my chair and moved toward a door on the opposite side of the room from the Triari. Everyone

was too focused on the Prince to notice me leaving.

Everyone but Kyrian.

As I slipped out the door, Kyrian grabbed my arm.

“Where are you going?” He whispered.

“To the restroom,” I said irritably. “Is that okay with you?”

“No; it's not,” he said sternly. “I'm not letting you out of my sight, Amara.”

“You are not coming into the ladies' bathroom with me, Kyrian,” I said. “That's highly inappropriate and just plain disturbing.”

“Ma'am, are you all right?” Agent Washburn and his team had been waiting outside of the meeting room for me.

“Do you mind escorting me to the facilities, Agent Washburn?” I asked sweetly.

“Of course.” Washburn nodded. “We can look after her, Arc Kyrian. Please return to the meeting.”

“I'm supposed to be looking after her,” Kyrian said firmly.

“I think President Colton made it clear that you will not be allowed to do so,” Washburn said without emotion. “I assure you that we are more than capable of protecting Ms. Madison. Now, please return to the meeting, Sir.”

The other three agents stepped up behind Washburn and took their typical stances; hands clasped loosely before them. As relaxed as their poses were, they still clearly expressed their preparedness for any type of altercation at a moment's notice.

“Five minutes,” Kyrian said sternly to me. “Any longer, and I come looking for you.”

“Ladies need longer than gentlemen,” Washburn said smoothly. “You'd best give her ten minutes before you start an incident in the White House over a bathroom break, Arc Kyrian.”

Kyrian grimaced and strode back into the meeting room. I smirked at the large slash of angry red running through his aura. At the rate we were going, I'd have his halo crushed in a week. My smile disappeared as soon as Kyrian was gone, though, and I turned urgently to the agents.

“You need to get me out of here,” I whispered. “The Triari are waiting for the perfect moment to pressure the President into giving me up. That Prince isn't going to take no for an answer. Which means that President Colton will either

give in—”

“President Colton won't give you up after vowing to protect you, Ma'am,” Washburn interrupted me. “He's a man of his word.”

“Or,” I continued with a chiding look at Washburn, “he'll start a war over me. I have no intentions of being the next Helen of Troy, Agent Washburn. Frankly, I've always thought she was a bit of a moron, and Paris was a pansy.”

“Yes, Ma'am; he was absolutely a pansy,” Washburn said as he turned to face the other agents. “I'm making an executive decision to move Ms. Madison to another secure location. If anyone feels that I'm acting traitorously, you may stand down and report me or simply stand down. I won't hold it against you.”

“I think President Colton will understand and approve, Sir,” Agent Stayton said.

The rest of them nodded, and just like that, it was decided. The agents quickly led me through the main hallways of the White House and then into its back corridors. We wound our way out through a garden and then to a hidden parking lot where the men hurried me over to a Jeep Wrangler. Washburn got in the driver's seat, and I was put in the back; between Agents Greene and Rogers. Stayton climbed in the front, and as we pulled out, all of them shrugged out of their jackets.

“I have some hoodies in the back,” Washburn said to the men.

Greene reached over the back seat to grab the hoodies and then ed them out. He also fished out a baseball cap and handed it to me. I twirled my hair into a ponytail and stuck it through the back of the cap as I pulled it low on my head. By the time we pulled out onto the city street, we looked like a bunch of college kids.

“You've done this before,” I said to them with an impressed tone.

“Snuck a woman out of the White House on behalf of the President?” Stayton asked with a sarcastic smirk my way. “No; never.”

“Did I just get taken out like one of President Colton's dates?” I asked in horror.

“Does it really bother you?” Washburn asked in surprise. “It worked.”

I chuckled. “Yes; well said, Agent Washburn.”

“There are a few safe houses we can take you to,” Washburn offered. “Or would you prefer to leave the city entirely?”

“Oh, I think you've misunderstood,” I said. “I'm not running away from everything. I just need to get away from the Triari. Take me to the Supermarket; I'll be safe there.”

“But the Triari can enter the Market,” Greene pointed out with wide eyes.

“Yes; I know, Agent Greene,” I said slowly. “But the Triari will be less inclined to kidnap me out of the Supermarket than they would from the White House.”

“How do you figure?” Rogers asked.

“I don't want to offend any of you,” I said gently, “but the greatest threat humans pose are their numbers, and the Triari are showing an inclination to even that out. In the Market, I become an unknown threat. I have friends whom they may not be prepared to deal with. Supernaturals can be tricky.”

“You're not asking us to just drop you off at the gate, are you?” Washburn narrowed his eyes at me in the rearview mirror.

“It may be the best option,” I pointed out. “You can race back to the White House and act as if you've been searching for me this whole time. Tell Kyrian that I just vanished; he'll believe that.”

“Why will he buy that?” Stayton asked suspiciously.

“Because it's something I can do,” I confessed.

These guys had taken a risk to help me out; they deserved to hear a little of my truth.

“You can turn invisible?” Greene asked in surprise. “No way.”

“I'll show you when we get to the Market,” I promised.

“We're not dumping you at the Market Gate,” Washburn growled.

“She has a point,” Stayton said. “It may be better to make it appear that she did this on her own. Otherwise, the Triari might think that President Colton is complicit in her disappearance.”

Washburn grimaced and took a turn that would lead us to the Supermarket.

“Thank you, Agent Washburn,” I said softly. “Thank you all for helping me. I'm sorry to put you into this position, but I think the President will appreciate what you've done if you decide to confess to him.”

“Oh, we will,” Washburn said. “We'll have to brief him as soon as possible. There will be footage of us leaving the White House that we'll need to erase and there's no way that the President won't find out about it.”

“You want me to text him?” I asked.

“You have POTUS' private number?” Washburn asked in surprise.

“Yes.”

The men exchanged man-smiles. You know; those tight grins that express their knowledge of another man's intimate intentions toward a woman.

“It's not like that,” I said primly. “He gave it to me just before you were assigned to watch over me; it's merely so that I may reach him with any important information.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Washburn said in a manner that expressed his disbelief but also his refusal to argue about it.

“Do you want me to text him, or not?” I asked in a huff.

“He won't be holding his phone right now,” Washburn said. “An aide will have it. We'll take care of it.”

“All right then.” I sighed deeply.

“I hope you have people to watch your back, Ma'am,” Stayton said. “Things could get tense.”

“Actually, I think I know the perfect bunch of heroes for the job,” I said with a smirk.

Chapter Eighteen

I did get a text from the President. It read; If you need help, call me. That's it. I was glad that he saw the wisdom in my disappearance, and I hoped that Washburn and the guys weren't in any trouble for the parts they played in my evacuation.

I had kept my promise and showed Greene how I could turn invisible; doing so just after exiting the Jeep. Then—as they gaped after me—I had hurried into the Market and gone straight to The Wilds. As soon as I found Landry, I had him put the bar on high-alert. He approved of my decision to ditch my secret service agents, but he wasn't too thrilled with who I was planning on replacing them with.

“What the fuck is the Stupid Squad going to do for you that I can't?” Landry asked me later that evening.

“There are more of them, for one thing,” I pointed out as I slipped on my boots. “And they want to be heroes, Land. They'll be on-point, if for no other reason than to prove themselves and possibly get the President's attention.”

“You don't even know any of them,” Landry huffed. “All you have is Davorin's assurance that they're competent. And frankly, Davorin doesn't seem too picky about who he lets into his superhero club.”

“If they aren't competent, I'll come straight back here, and we can figure out another plan,” I said. “But I can't just hide out forever. I need to return to my job

if nothing else.”

“Job,” Landry huffed. “You can tell people what other people are saying anywhere. You could leave the planet if you want to.”

“Do you think I should leave the planet?”

“No,” he said sternly. “I think we should fight those bastards and finish this once and for all.”

“Which ones?” I asked. “The ones hunting me down like an animal or the Bleiten?”

“Ha-ha.” Landry grimaced. “You always thought you were funny.”

“No; I always thought that I was cynical and sarcastic,” I corrected. “And I've always been right.”

“Not about everything, kid,” he chided me. “ who raised you.”

“I won't ever forget that, Land,” I said as I went to give him a hug. “Or how good a job you did despite being on your own. You're the father of my heart; even better than blood.”

“Ah, kid” Landry hugged me tighter. “I love you. Be careful tonight.”

“You kept me safe for twenty-five years,” I said softly. “Whatever happens, you did right by me. My parents would have been so grateful.”

“Hell, kid, you saved me too,” he said gruffly. “I never would have had a family without you. Now, don't you take that away from me.”

“I'll do my very best not to get abducted.” I smoothed my bodycon, red dress down my thighs. “How do I look?”

“Like a floozy who wants to be abducted.” Landry grimaced. “Aren't you going to put something else on? That thing looks like underwear.”

“Of course I'm putting something else on.” I rolled my eyes as I went to my dresser and scooped up a tube of red lipstick. “I can't wear a red dress without red lipstick.”

“Fucking kids,” he muttered as I swiped on the lipstick.

I gave Landry a wink on my way out of the room, and he followed me down to the bar; grumbling the entire way. Sal and Ella were working the bar and the tables tonight so Land just went to his stool behind the bar to supervise.

“Well, excuse me, Miss Thing,” Sal called out to me.

“You're looking fierce,” Ella added as she carried a tray over to a table of evolved supes.

“Thanks, Salmonella,” I called over my shoulder. “Catch you later.”

The couple had been working for Landry for years, and it had quickly been discovered that when you said their names together—fast and in the right order —it sounded like salmonella. It stuck, and the couple had adopted it as their unified moniker. Granted, it wasn't the best nickname for a couple working in a bar, but at least they didn't work at Mama's.

Outside The Wilds, I flagged down a Market taxi.

“Hey, Alan,” I said as I slid into the back. “Flamethrower's, please.”

“Sure thing, Amara.” Alan waved a blue hand back at me before stepping on the gas.

Flamethrower's was on the other side of the Market from The Wilds; the side where supernaturals went to—ironically—be wild. Restaurants in the area had tables outside for patrons to socialize with erby. It wasn't just peoplewatching in the Market; it was a community experience. It was like a condensed city; not everybody knew each other, but it was rare that you went out without running into someone you recognized. So, when Alan pulled up in front of Flamethrower's, I wasn't surprised to see a friend of mine leaning against the outer wall as she smoked a cigarette.

“Amara.” Belina waved me over. “I haven't seen you in ages!”

“Hello, darling,” I said as I hugged her. “You look fantastic.”

“Thank you.” She struck a sexy pose as she flicked her cigarette. “Dylan and I felt like dancing.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

Belina swung back her voluminous blonde hair and grimaced. “I needed to take a break from him before I beat him soundly with his own fists.”

“What did he do now?”

“I caught him staring at tits again,” she huffed.

“Whose tits?”

“Does it matter?”

“No; I suppose not.”

“It should be illegal for him to open his eyes,” she grumbled.

Dylan—aka Dylan the Deviant—had what every little boy dreams of; X-ray vision. He could look through cement, wood, plastic; whatever he wanted to. And what he usually wanted to see through was clothing; women's clothing. We were all naked when Dylan was around. Belina, on the other hand, could give people muscle spasms, and she had kept Dylan in check for years. When she caught him misbehaving, he wound up punching himself in the face... or lower.

“I'm surprised that he hasn't had an accident tonight,” I noted pointedly.

“Oh, he will, if he doesn't stop being a perv,” she promised. “Come on, let's go in.” She threw down her cigarette and squished it out with her high-heel. “If we walk in together, we'll have every male eye on us.”

“If you say so.” I chuckled.

I was by no means ugly, but Belina was a bombshell. When I went anywhere with her, I didn't have to use my abilities to make myself invisible; I simply went unnoticed. Belina had an hourglass figure that she wasn't afraid to show off and an attitude that came across as slutty and innocent all at once. Men just gaped in awe at her. None of us could figure out how she had ended up with Dylan. But I suppose she was the only one who could tame him, and Dylan was an attractive man. For me, his attractiveness made his perverted ways even worse. For Belina, it made them a challenge.

Brock was working Flamethrower's door. He was big and muscled, as most bouncers are, but Brock's talent was what made him indispensable. He could stick to people. I don't mean that in a figurative way. I mean that Brock could make any part of himself so sticky that once he touched you, you couldn't escape him. It came in handy for breaking up fights or throwing people out of bars. He just activated the stickiness, touched someone, and dragged them outside. Then he released them and blocked their way back in. It worked every time.

“Hello, ladies,” Brock said in his deep voice. “Have fun. Let me know if you need help getting out of a sticky situation. Or getting into one.”

He waggled his brows at us. Yes; unfortunately, Brock was also a major playboy and a tedious employer of worn-out come-ons. But since he was working the door, we had to be nice to him. So, we smiled and laughed until we were far enough away to roll our eyes at each other.

We were halfway to the bar—easily found by the flamethrower replicas that bracketed it and spurted fire every few minutes—when Davorin stepped into my path.

“What are you doing here?” He asked urgently. “Are you all right?”

“Hello, rock-hard...”—Belina waved her hand to indicate Davorin's body —“everything.”

“Hey, Belina,” Davorin said absently as he continued to stare me down.

One of the things I liked about Davorin was his disinterest in Belina.

“I'll meet you at the bar,” I said to her.

“Oh, my,” Belina's eyes went wide with excitement. “Is there something going on between you two? The Rock and the Hard Ass; I wouldn't want to get between you.”

“Belina.” I gave her a look.

“Fine, but I expect details,” Belina said as she left.

“I ditched the President,” I said to Dav.

“You what?” Davorin gaped at me.

“I'll tell you about it later,” I said. “I was just wondering if maybe you and your Rocketeers would like to save a damsel in distress?”

“You want us to protect you?” He asked in surprise. “Amara, you've got abilities, you can protect yourself.”

“That's a different song than the one you were singing this morning, Mr.

Superstone,” I said in confusion.

“I'm building up to something,” he said with a smirk. “ my group, and they'll be guaranteed to say yes.”

“I don't even know your group yet,” I said. “I'm not agreeing to anything.”

“All right; meet them and then decide.”

“They could score points with the President if they help me,” I cajoled.

“I thought you said that you ditched him.”

“I did; for his own good,” I itted. “He's okay with it. He'd be even more okay if he knew I had some supernatural backup.”

“I get done at 2 AM,” Davorin said. “Hang out here until then, and I'll take you to meet them.”

“Okay,” I started to head to the bar, but he grabbed my hand.

“Amara.”

I turned to look back at him, and Davorin gently pressed his lips to mine. Despite the lightness of his touch, tingles ran down my whole body, and I inhaled sharply. When he eased away, Davorin's aura was full of crimson, but the crimson was starting to lighten. One shade more and the boy would be well on his way to rosy love.

“Thanks for trusting me,” he whispered before he let me go.

I just nodded and tried to walk away steadily. Why did he have to go and kiss me like that; like some romantic white knight? And why did I have to wear my stupid stiletto boots? At least the bar was packed; if I fell, I'd just bounce off someone and back into a standing position.

To get to the bar, I had to make my way across the dance floor and then through a half-ring of little, round tables. I could have gone around the perimeter, but with the place being so crowded, going around the edge would have taken me a good fifteen minutes. So, I braved the dance floor; a grinding mass of bodies with a blood-red, lusty haze pulsing around them. People pressed against me as rock music blared in my ears and vibrated through my bones. I tried not to focus too much on the colors that seemed even louder to me than the music; I just angled my head down and plowed my way through.

And that was my mistake.

A hand slid around my waist and pulled me tightly against a hard chest. I thought it was some drunk jerk, and I was about to turn around and tell him where he could shove it because it wasn't going to be inside me, but then he pressed his warm cheek against mine and wrapped his other hand lightly around my throat.

His aura was lost among the others around me so I couldn't latch onto it. Still, I could have attacked him directly and not bothered with altering his aura. I could have thrown several colors at him that would have targeted all sorts of organs; all I'd have to do was glance over my shoulder. But before I could decide on which color to use, he spoke.

“Hello, Amara,” he purred into my ear. “You look amazing tonight; practically devilish.”

His voice was like thunder on a dark night; something scary and exciting all at once. The enticing scent of man, leather, and something spicy tickled my nose and made me inhale deeper. In combination with that voice, it made my head spin. Then the hand around my throat moved up to my chin and his thick thumb rubbed gently across my lips. I exhaled a shuddering breath over the tip of his thumb, and he made a surprised, aroused sound as his body jerked against mine.

“I should have known you'd be beautiful and sensual,” he murmured as he rubbed his fingers together over the lipstick stain on his thumb. “Only a woman with deep ions could shift a man's emotions so swiftly.”

I have to it that startled me; I'd never been called ionate or sensual before. My abilities must have confused him. Still, the mere thought of it—of letting my desires rule my life—made my stomach clench in longing.

“You're a Bleiten?” I asked warily.

He chuckled as he began to sway me to the music; his hand sliding back along my chin to press my cheek against his.

“I am Lord Malik,” he said. “My team and I were sent to Earth to secure you. I have never, in all of my military career, ordered my men to stand down, Amara. But I've seen what you can do, and I think you require a softer touch; my touch.”

Malik swung me around to face him; keeping his hand on my waist but moving the other one to the nape of my neck. He began to massage my muscles gently.

“I've never failed to complete a mission,” he said in a challenging tone.

I stared up into Malik's unyielding expression; briefly noting the stubborn slash of his lips and the angled ridge of his brows. His hair was dark, and I think his eyes were too, but it was hard to tell in the shadowy interior of the nightclub. Malik was sharply and dangerously handsome, and I found my heart beating faster for inappropriate and disturbing reasons. His eyes—whatever color they were—fastened on mine and widened as if he'd seen something surprising. We stared at each other for a moment before he tightened his grip even more and started moving slowly with me again.

“Are you seriously taking the time to dance with me?” I asked him as I tried to calm my racing heart.

“We have all the time in the world, Amara,” he said with a sensual smile. “Unless you're in a rush?”

Malik's aura flared around me suddenly; swaths of wise dove-gray and stable oak mixing with a spreading lust-red. There was a hint of black—as I expected

—but it was an authoritative jet instead of pure black; there was no evil in him. Odd; I'd expected a Bleiten leader to be consumed by it.

“You're a strange Bleiten,” I blurted.

“Am I?” Malik asked as his hand slid down my back. “Why am I strange?”

“You don't seem to be evil,” I decided to go with a partial truth.

“And you've met enough Bleiten to determine that we're all evil?” He asked with a lifted brow.

“I've had a few run-ins,” I said.

“With low-class soldiers, no doubt,” he said with a sudden pensive look. “We are not the demons humans believe us to be, Amara.”

“Is that so? And yet you were sent here to secure me. What does that mean exactly?” I challenged.

“You hold something very powerful in your veins,” he said grimly. “We can't afford to let the Triari get their hands on it.”

“The Triari created it,” I pointed out. “And they instructed my father to destroy it.”

“Is that what they told you?” He asked with a sexy—and slightly condescending —smirk.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You're not going to twist me into going with you willingly.”

“I don't have to; I can take you unwillingly,” Malik threatened in a low growl. “You're wanted for the secrets in your blood, and I suspect that you're reluctant to share those secrets. I'll have them, Amara—one way or another—but wouldn't it be better if it was an exchange and not a barbaric theft?”

“You want to buy my blood?” I asked in surprise.

“What have the Triari offered you?” Malik asked. “Did they even let on that they want your blood, or have they tried to trick you onto one of their ships so they can whisk you off this planet and start experimenting on you?”

“The Bleiten are the ones who experiment on their own people,” I pointed out.

“Criminals who volunteer for it in exchange for reduced sentences,” Malik said with a shrug. “Every race has their wicked ways; ours just happen to be excessively publicized and misrepresented.”

“Sure,” I said scornfully. “You make your people into monsters for their own good.”

Malik closed his eyes and let out a slow breath as if he were seeking patience.

“Believe what you will, Amara,” he said. “But my offer is a fair one. I can make you a wealthy woman on another world; help you escape your own people. All I want in exchange is a vial of your blood.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I could have taken it already.”

Malik's mouth moved down to my neck, and I felt the graze of sharp canines against my skin. I sucked in a startled breath as he lifted his head to smile wickedly at me and show off the fangs I'd failed to notice.

“Then why haven't you?” I asked in confusion.

“I've been watching you.” His lips parted as he trailed the back of his hand down my cheek. “You're strong in ways I'm not used to seeing. I like it. I like you. I'd rather not mistreat you, Amara. We can be friends.” His hand tightened around my throat. “Or we can be enemies. I don't recommend the latter.”

I was about to change Malik's stable brown aura into cowardly yellow when he released me.

“To prove my good intentions, I'm letting you go,” Malik said with a brush of his knuckles across my cheek. “I'll return for you in two days. Think about my

offer.”

Malik stepped back into the crowd and then turned to head toward the door without any trouble; people simply moved out of his way. I stared after him; completely baffled. Had a Bleiten just offered to buy my blood instead of simply snatching me and taking all he wanted? Had he just danced with me? And— most importantly—had I just enjoyed every second of it?

“I need to have sex,” I muttered. “It's obviously been far too long.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Who was that gorgeous beefcake and why did you let him escape?” Belina asked as soon as I reached the bar.

“I think he let me escape,” I muttered.

“Bel,” Dylan whined. “I hate it when you talk about other men.”

“Oh, the irony in that statement,” Belina declared dramatically.

“What do you mean?” Dylan wasn't too bright.

“It's ironic that you're upset about her noticing some guy when you've been ogling women's boobs all night,” I explained as I pointedly crossed my arms over my chest.

Dylan could see through my arms if he wanted to, but to do so, he'd have to look through all of my bones and tissues; including my breasts. It would defeat the purpose. All supernatural powers have their weaknesses.

“Oh,” Dylan said and frowned. “Okay; I won't do it again.”

“Right,” Belina said in a disbelieving tone.

“I promise, Bel,” he said seriously. “I'm sorry.”

Belina sighed deeply and then nodded. Dylan beamed at her as he pulled her into a hug. That was the thing with Dylan; he was so dumb, it was almost adorable and it made it hard to stay mad at him.

“I love you, Bel,” Dylan said. “You're too good for me.”

“You need to start ing that,” Belina declared.

“Amara?” A female voice asked from behind me.

I turned around to find a beautiful redhead. Her hair was long and curly; hanging down to her waist in perfect ringlets. She had delicate features, creamy skin with a sprinkling of freckles, and soft brown eyes. Her nose, however, was Rudolph red and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

“Yes?” I lifted a brow at her.

“Davorin asked me to fetch you,” she said and sniffed abrasively. “My name is Lily; I'm a part of his team.”

“Really?” I asked in surprise.

“I'm the only woman in the group so he asked me to pick you up,” Lily said. “He didn't think you'd leave with some strange guy.”

“I was going to leave with Davorin when he got off work,” I said.

“Yeah, but Dav said he got a bad feeling.” She sniffed again. “Look; we need to get out of here fast; I have a cold.”

“Oh.” I frowned at her in confusion. “Okay.” I turned back to Belina and said, “Sorry, Bel, it looks as if I need to leave. It was lovely to see you.”

“But you just got here,” Belina complained. “Why do you have to run off with Merida? You need to help her find her bear-brothers or something?”

Behind me, Merida—I mean, Lily—snorted loudly and rubbed at her nose. “I actually suck at archery.”

“I promised Davorin I'd meet some of his friends,” I said to Belina. “It's the whole reason I came tonight.”

“You're not thinking about ing the Jack-Ass League are you?” Belina asked

with horror.

“No; of course, not,” I assured her. “And that's a good one, Bel; I'm using it.”

“By all means,” Belina mimicked me. “Go ahead, darling.”

“Shut up, Barbie,” I teased her and gave her a quick hug. Then I turned on Dylan. “You'd better be good to my girl or I'll cripple your libido, Deviant.”

Dylan went pale. “That's not funny, Mara.”

“Do you see me laughing?”

He went as white as a sheet.

“Amara, please,” Lily whined. “I'm going to sneeze any second now, and indoors it could be bad; real bad.”

“Okay; that's gross.” Belina made a disgusted face. “You'd better go and take Sneezy with you.”

“See you later, darling,” I said to Belina and then gestured for Lily to lead the way out of the club.

Lily started to shiver, and then she was suddenly desperate to get out of the building. She pushed people out of her way while making strange, wild, bird sounds; a cross between a goose and an albatross. Most of the club-goers jumped aside as soon as they saw her coming.

“She's about to blow!” Someone who obviously knew Lily yelled into the crowd to get everyone else moving.

People launched themselves out of Lily's way after that.

I ed Davorin on my way out, and stopped to say, “I would have gone with a man; I'm not a scared rabbit, Davorin.”

“I know,” Davorin said with a smirking look at Lily as she ran out of the building. “I just wanted to see how long Lily would last down here. She has a cold.”

“Yes; so she said,” I noted. “Why is that—”

A whooshing sound followed by crashing noises, honking, and shouting filtered in to us and cut me off. I looked over the heads of customers and out the door. Brock was waving his hands wildly and shouting, and Lily was shouting back while Davorin laughed his ass off.

“What was that ruckus, Davorin?” I asked with a narrow-eyed glare.

“That was a Lily sneeze,” he said. “She controls the weather; wind mostly. When she gets a cold, she turns into Hurricane Lily.”

“And you brought her down here on purpose?” I shook my head at him.

“She won't hurt anyone,” he huffed. “She just stirs things up a bit.”

“Lily said you had a bad feeling,” I went serious. “Are you psychic, Dav?”

“Not really.” He made a face. “I just get moments when my instinct acts up. I had one tonight, and I never ignore them.”

“Fair enough,” I murmured. “I'll see you later.”

“Hey, Mara.” Dav grabbed my arm. “Be careful. Tell Tempest to lock up tight until I get there.”

“Tempest?”

“Oh, that's Lily's superhero name,” he said with a grin.

“Of course, it is.” I grimaced and made my way out to the windswept—I mean Tempest-swept—street.

Chapter Twenty

I don't know why I didn't tell Davorin about the Bleiten I had danced with. I should have, and I beat myself up about it all the way to Lily's apartment. She took Davorin's suggestion to heart and not only locked but also barricaded her door.

“What's all that about then?” A man who was lounging across her sofa asked when Lily was finished with her front door fortification.

Lily's place was lovely but a bit Spartan. She lived on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in the Market and had a great view of the city as well as a balcony to enjoy it from. Lily ran for that balcony instead of answering the man. As soon as she was outside, Lily let loose an impressive sneeze that would have been catastrophic indoors. It rolled out over the rooftops without damaging anyone or anything and echoed through the night like thunder.

“I guess the high-life is mandatory when a cold can cause architectural damage,” I noted dryly.

“Indeed,” the man on the sofa stood and approached me. “I'm Leo.”

“Amara,” I said as I shook his hand.

Leo had the rich brown skin of a Latin man, but his accent—I'm good with

accents—sounded Cuban. His voice was melodious and addictive; I was eager to hear it again. Leo's smile matched his friendly tone; full lips turning up warmly. But his eyes were a cool shade of blue and surveyed me critically.

“And this is Jason,” Leo waved to a man lounging at an iron and oak dining set.

“Hiya,” Jason waved at me.

“Don't be offended; he doesn't shake hands,” Leo said. “It's a courtesy to you. Jason can make people tell the truth simply by touching them.”

“Really?” I asked with an interested look Jason's way. “That must come in handy.”

Jason was an average looking man with medium brown hair and lightly tanned skin. He had the slim build of a scholar and an honest aura around him. His eyes were the most striking thing about him; a vibrant hazel, heavy on the green.

“As handy as altering colors, I imagine,” Jason said.

I nodded in acknowledgment but didn't say anything.

“Go easy, guys,” Lily said as she walked back in. “Dav said she's skittish.”

“Did he tell you why I'm skittish?” I asked. “Or what you'll be dealing with if you decide to help me?”

“Bleiten,” Leo said simply. “We're in. What kind of heroes would we be if we said no just because the villain was scary?”

“Not just scary,” Jason said, “scary-strong; they're the most fearsome warriors in all the worlds.”

“You don't have to help,” I said immediately. “I have other options. I didn't come here with any expectations.”

“Dav's right,” Jason huffed, “you are cynical.”

“I'm realistic,” I corrected him.

Isn't it funny how you can it something to yourself, but when someone else says it, you get touchy?

“Well, Ms. Realistic, why don't you sit down, and Leo will pour you a glass of wine?” Lily said and sniffed. “Davorin said we should go over things with you; who we are and what we do.”

“All right,” I agreed and took a seat beside Jason at the table.

Leo went into the kitchen and grabbed the wine. It was an open-concept apartment, and the kitchen was just off the dining area. The atmosphere was modern and classy; whatever Lily did for a living—when she wasn't being Tempest—it must have paid well. When I had a glass of wine in my hand, and we were all seated around the table, Davorin's gang of supernatural saviors gave me the lowdown on their hero club—is it just me or does that sound like a sandwich?

“I'm Maestro,” Leo began. “I can use my voice as a weapon.”

“A weapon?” I lifted my brows. “Sound waves dissipate too rapidly to reach lethal levels.”

“I didn't say that I used it to kill, just as a weapon. I can hit any pitch,” he explained. “I can burst eardrums, move objects; things like that.”

“Fascinating,” I murmured.

“Leo already told you what I do,” Jason said. “I call myself Veritas.”

“Good names,” I said. “I like them better than Gargoyle.”

“It works for him,” Tempest said. “With the right mask on, he can look like a gargoyle.”

“Fair enough,” I conceded.

“And Dav said that you came up with 'Spectra' for yourself,” Leo said. “I like that too. It has a nice ring to it.”

“I said 'Spectra' only because he challenged me to come up with a better name than he did,” I huffed. “Honestly, I have no interest in saving people.”

“Bullshit,” Jason said. “I can hear the lie from here. You've saved people before, haven't you?”

“I take it back; that's an annoying talent,” I said stiffly.

“The reason we create these personas is so that we can be heroic without seeking glory,” Tempest said. “It's a way to do some good anonymously.”

“I don't get that either,” I said. “How do you have time to do these undercover charity missions and work a paying job?”

“We do them in our spare time,” Jason said. “You're right; it is charity. This is our way of giving a little something back to our community.”

“But this is your community, and you're not helping people in the Market,” I

pointed out. “You're helping humans.”

“If we don't consider humans to be a part of our community, why would they ever consider us to be a part of theirs?” Lily asked.

“We help here when we're given the opportunity,” Leo said as he looked at me pointedly.

“But helping humans makes it easier for us to keep our identities secret,” Lily said. “It's hard to do that in the Market.”

“And it helps with supe-human relations,” Jason added. “They may not know that we exist until we help them, but after we do, they'll never forget us. More importantly; they feel invested in our existence; we save them, and they protect our identities.”

“If Supernaturals ever come out of the Supermarket, we'll have laid a nice foundation for humans to accept us,” Lily said. “We're showing them that we won't hurt them; we'll protect them. That we're not the enemy.”

They were making sense; something I hadn't been expecting.

“All right,” I gave in a little. “Maybe you're not idiots.”

“Oh, thank you, my lady,” Jason said sarcastically. “We're so honored to have

your approval.”

“A Bleiten approached me in the club tonight,” I dropped my demon bomb.

They all gaped at me.

“What did you say?” Leo asked.

“He offered to buy my blood,” I went on. “Said he'd rather not take it from me. He went so far as to say that he wanted to be friends.”

“A Bleiten offered you money and friendship?” Lily asked skeptically and then looked at Jason for verification.

“Why would she lie?” Jason countered.

Lily nodded and grimaced at the same time.

“He said that he was a Bleiten Lord,” I went on. “The one in charge of acquiring my blood.”

“Then he's also the one who's been kidnapping women with purple eyes,” Jason pointed out.

“Possibly,” I murmured.

“Who else would be taking them?” Leo asked. “It has to be the Bleiten.”

“He said that the Triari want my blood too,” I added. “That they're just playing nice until they can get me on one of their ships. From what I've experienced with them, I believe it. In fact, they haven't been nearly as chivalrous as this Bleiten has. One of their arcs had the nerve to tell me that the elixir in my blood is their property.”

“What's so damn special about your blood anyway?” Jason asked. “Why do two races want it?”

“My father created an elixir to make people immune to toxins,” I said. “It was intended for the Triari to use so they could inhabit Tuburo.”

“That planet the Bleiten fought them over?” Leo asked.

“One and the same,” I said.

I paused and looked around at these strangers. Was I really going to tell them about the Amaranthine Elixir? Was it fair not to? They were risking their lives for me, and I was a stranger to them. Perhaps I should offer them some trust in return.

“The Amaranthine Elixir worked too well,” I went on. “It healed everything; every wound and every effect of aging.”

“Are you talking about immortality?” Tempest whispered.

“I am,” I itted.

Then I took a deep breath and told them everything; my father going into hiding, my cancer, the way the elixir had mutated me, and how the Bleiten thought they could separate the elixir from my blood. By the time I was done, they were all gaping at me.

“You're immortal?” Leo whispered.

“Yes; it appears so,” I said. “I just found out about it myself. I know it's a lot to process.”

“They must be pretty damn advanced if they think they can find the elixir inside your blood after all this time,” Jason said. “I'm not an expert or anything, but as far as I know, you can't pull a vaccine out of someone who's been vaccinated.”

“The Bleiten believe they can,” I said with a shrug. “But, at least they've offered me something in exchange for it. I think the Triari would simply take it from me if given the chance.”

“So, what? You think the Bleiten are businessmen, and the Triari are the ones who have been kidnapping women?” Lily asked. “The Triari already know who you are; there's no point in kidnapping other women.”

“True,” I itted. “But it seems as if the Bleiten have known who I was for awhile too. It doesn't make sense for either of them to abduct those women.” I rubbed at my head in frustration. “I just don't know who to trust anymore.”

“Well, from a man who deals in truths,” Jason said, “trust no one; especially not those who want something from you.”

“Lovely, Veritas,” Lily huffed.

“Oh, yes; we try to stay in persona while together,” Leo explained. “Just in case someone is listening.”

I smiled tightly and nodded. There's the crazy I had been expecting.

“It's not paranoia,” Jason said in response to my expression. “We've found people spying on us before.”

“Spying on you?” I asked in surprise. “Who was it?”

“We don't know,” Lily said with a grimace. “We weren't able to catch them. But we found footprints on the balcony that don't belong to any of us; there definitely was someone spying on us.”

“On the balcony?” I asked as I recalled the aura I'd seen outside my window. “So, someone either scaled your building or flew up here.”

“There's a fire escape,” Lily said. “I don't think they had to fly.”

“Oh,” I said with a little relief; it would have been very odd indeed if Kyrian were watching Davorin's friends. “Are you sure that they were spying on the group and it wasn't just a pervert spying on you, Tempest?”

The three of them frowned and looked at each other consideringly.

“Never mind all of that,” Jason said. “What happened with the Bleiten?”

“Malik said he'd give me two days to think about his offer,” I said. “I think I'd like to use those two days to come up with a way to trap him instead.”

“Malik?” Lily asked. “You're on a first-name basis with the Bleiten warlord?”

“He told me his name.” I shrugged. “What's wrong with using it?”

“What do you want to do with Malik after you catch him?” Leo asked.

“I don't know,” I itted. “Interrogate him? Force him to back off? I haven't thought that far.”

“Neither of those will provide positive results,” Jason said. “A Bleiten will die before he gives up any of his secrets, and the same goes for backing off. More so for backing off; his people would execute him for his failure.”

Something tightened in my belly. I didn't like the thought of Malik being executed. Which confirmed it; I was losing my mind.

“Malik said he's been watching me,” I murmured. “Why would he wait until now to approach me unless he's genuine in his offer?”

“The Bleiten have been watching you?” Lily's eyes went wide. “Fuck; you'd better warn your family, Amara.”

I blinked in shock as I realized that Lily was right; there were other ways to get me to cooperate.

“Landry,” I whispered as I lunged for my purse.

The others exchanged concerned looks as I called my foster father. Landry picked up on the fourth ring; the cacophony of the bar blaring behind his voice.

“Yeah?” He shouted.

“Landry, keep that blaster near you at all times,” I said.

“Why? What's happened?”

“I spoke to a Bleiten tonight,” I said hurriedly. “They know who I am.”

“How long have they known?”

“I don't know,” I said. Leave it to Landry to ask the important questions immediately. “He said they've been watching me; trying to decide how to approach me.”

“Sounds like awhile then,” Landry said gruffly. “Are you safe where you are?”

“Yes; I think so.”

“Good; stay there for now,” he said. “When you're ready to come home, call me, and I'll come and get you.”

“That's not why I phoned,” I growled. “If they know who I am, they know who you are, Land.”

“I'm always on guard, kid,” Landry said. “Don't you worry about me.”

“Amp up the guard, Landry,” I snapped.

“I love you too.” He hung up.

“You pig-headed tree-man,” I huffed.

Leo laughed. “I like Landry; he's very down-to-earth.”

“Well-rooted, even,” Jason added.

“Let me explain something to the two of you that you seem to be ignorant of,” I said in a tight voice. “I may say nasty things about my foster father because he's my family and that makes it okay. But you are not my family, and nasty things from you are just nasty. One more tree joke, and I'll make you cry like a baby.”

“Got it,” Jason said as he held up his hands in surrender.

I looked at Leo.

“Sorry,” Leo said. “I was trying for some levity.”

“Idiots,” Lily muttered as she shook her head.

“So, what exactly do you do?” I asked them. “On your average superhero night, what's your routine?”

“We usually patrol while we listen to police scanners,” Lily said. “We each take turns unless we come across a situation requiring a special talent or multiple talents.”

“You just walk around and listen to the cops?” I asked. “That seems inefficient; then you only find the crime that's already been found.”

“What would you do?” Jason asked.

“I would find myself a lofty location to survey the city from,” I said. “But then again, I can see people's intentions through aura spikes.”

“Now, there's a handy ability.” Jason smirked.

“Never mind what we do normally,” Leo said. “We need to come up with a plan for what to do now; for you.”

“All right; let's brainstorm,” I suggested.

Lily smiled. “I love storms.”

Chapter Twenty-One

By the time Davorin showed up, we had a plan. We were going to attempt to catch Malik or one of his underlings using a combination of our talents. We decided that if we managed to catch Malik himself, we could hand him over to the U.S. Government, and they could negotiate on my behalf. At the very least, it would show the Bleiten that I wasn't someone they could intimidate. Bleiten ired strength; Malik himself had praised mine. So, I would show them how strong I was.

Davorin muttered and grumbled a bit after he heard that a Bleiten had been in Flamethrower's, and I hadn't told him; going on about his Scooby-sense and how he knew something bad had been brewing. But then he calmed down and started working with us. I would be the bait, of course, and the others would be the trap. We worked out all the details, and then Davorin drove me back to The Wilds on his motorcycle.

I hate motorcycles. People rave about the freedom and the sex-appeal of having a piece of vibrating steel between their legs. Frankly, if I was looking for that kind of thrill, an actual vibrator was a safer choice and it wouldn't mess up my hair like a motorcycle; not unless I was feeling quite frisky indeed. At least it was a short ride; most of which I spent huddled behind Davorin's bulk so I wouldn't be stung by the wind—which became biting at the speed he was going. Davorin thought this was hilarious.

“All of my dates love the bike,” Davorin said as he helped me off his death machine.

“Your dates are either lying or they have a death wish,” I declared as I tried to work the knots out of my hair. “And what's wrong with you? You don't wear a helmet?”

“Only when I leave the Market,” he said.

“As if you can't get into an accident in here,” I huffed as I unlocked The Wild's front door. “You're probably more likely to.”

“The Market's safe.” Dav held open the door for me. “Supes drive better than humans.”

“You're delusional,” I declared.

“You're welcome,” Davorin said with a smirk.

“For being delusional?”

“For driving you home.”

“Even with the Bleiten after me, I would have been safer walking,” I huffed.

“You know I would never let anything happen to you,” Davorin murmured as he

ran his hand down my arm. “You look hot tonight, by the way.”

“Save it for your motorcycle hussies,” I said.

“Did you just use the word 'hussies?'” He asked and then laughed. “What are you; ninety?”

“Goodnight, Davorin,” I said primly; exactly like a ninety-year-old.

“Goodnight, Spectra.” Davorin kissed my cheek before backing out the door.

I locked and barred it after him and then headed up to the apartment. I tip-toed up the stairs and down the hall to my old bedroom, but Landry still heard me. Landry has an affinity for wood; he could hear and interpret every creek. It was as if the stuff spoke to him.

“Goodnight, kid,” he called out. “Sleep tight; I got the blaster on the floor beside my bed.”

“Thanks, Land,” I called back. “Goodnight.”

I went to the window and stared down at the street. There were a few people wandering about and several more in Mama's Diner, but Davorin had already sped away. Then I saw a flare of a deep crimson; sexual attraction bordering on pure lust. I frowned and focused on the aura. It was coming from the alley beside

Mama's, and it looked familiar.

“You said you'd give me two days,” I muttered as I narrowed my stare on the aura.

Almost as if he'd heard me, Malik stepped out of the shadows and leaned casually against the corner of Mama's Diner. He crossed his thick arms and smiled slowly; his stare set on mine. Then he gave me a reassuring nod.

He was just there to watch... again. I narrowed my eyes at him as I recalled the aura outside my window. Maybe it hadn't been Kyrian after all. Bleiten had winged battle-forms; Malik could have easily used his to fly up to the second floor of my townhouse. And then there were the footprints on Lily's balcony. Had the Bleiten been watching Davorin and his friends too? If so, why did one of them accost me on the street? Why not follow me to Davorin's? And why approach me now—in such a seductive way, no less?

I whisked my curtains closed and backed away from the window. My heart was racing again, and I didn't like the images that were filling my head. Could Bleiten mess with a person's mind? I'd never heard of them having such a talent. But this was insane. I could not be attracted to a creepy Peeping Tom who had been sent to hunt me down for my blood. No; not possible. I was far too rational for that.

But as I slipped out of my clothes and slid beneath the covers, my thoughts kept returning to Malik. I wondered if he were still out there and how long he'd stay; staring up at my window like a forlorn lover. It had to be a message. Malik wanted me to see that he knew where I was and intended to keep me within his sights until I had made a decision. He wanted me to know that I couldn't elude him.

“You're making this too easy,” I muttered to the dark.

Malik may know where I was, but that also meant that I knew where he'd be; right where I wanted him. I could walk Malik straight into our trap, and I wouldn't have to wait two days to do it. The hunter would become the hunted.

“Goodnight, Malik,” I whispered. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

In the middle of the night, something woke me; movement on the bed. A hand slid over the blankets; moving up my arm and then over my cheek. I'd been dreaming about dancing with sexy demons so I sighed and shifted into the touch. But then that touch intensified, and I woke up to find that there wasn't a bleiten in my bed.

I would have preferred the Bleiten.

“You cost me my job, bitch,” the man above me snarled in my face. “And it was a hefty paycheck. So, I'm going to take my payment out of you.”

He was thin and wiry, with claw-like hands that were digging into my neck, and pale hair slicked back into a ponytail that emphasized his menacing expression. He bared his teeth at me like an animal; revealing the sharp points of his canines. But these weren't the thick teeth of a Bleiten. They were much thinner; more snake than wolf. The Ungaru tracker; it had to be.

I tore at his hands as I blasted him with denim-blue light. The color hit his mouth and made the soft tissue there swell until it began to rupture. He shrieked and reared back—blood dripping out of his mouth and over my face—but he kept his hands securely around my throat. I was about to drop the denim down to a calming robin's egg when something massive knocked into him from the side and went tumbling off the bed with him. I clambered to my knees and watched in horrified fascination as the Ungaru was torn to shreds and beaten by Bleiten claws and fists.

“I told you to stay away from her,” Malik growled in the Ungaru's face as he surged to his feet; dragging the smaller man up with him.

“I did my job,” the Ungaru snapped as he tried to wrestle away from Malik. “I found her.”

“And then you led me somewhere she wasn't,” Malik said calmly. “But that doesn't matter. I told you to stand down, and you should have listened.”

I gaped as Malik lifted the Ungaru even higher; the smaller man's feet dangling off the floor. Malik narrowed his eyes at the Ungaru and drew back his free hand. Moonlight glinted off the deadly tips of the Bleiten's claws, and I found myself iring the way that only his hand had shifted. His fingers had thickened and darkened to a leathery ebony, but that darkness faded at his wrist to become normal flesh again. I was so distracted by Malik's magnificent monstrosity that I didn't hear a new set of footsteps approaching.

But Malik did.

Just before Malik brought down those lethal claws, he glanced toward his left and leaned back suddenly; holding the Ungaru out further. A roaring boom echoed through my bedroom as the Ungaru's head exploded; pieces of it spraying everywhere.

I let out a startled shriek as Malik turned his head away from the blast with a wincing squint. He shook off blood and bits of bone like a dog shakes off water

and then turned to look at Landry in irritation. My foster father stood in my bedroom door; holding the Bleiten Blaster at hip level. Landry cocked the gun and swiveled the barrel toward Malik. Malik casually tossed the Ungaru aside and then turned toward Landry; his shoulders stretching in preparation of a fight.

“Stop!” I shouted as I jumped out of bed.

Both of the men glanced at me in surprise as I leapt between them and let out a pulse of stress-relieving amethyst. The men each took a deep, calming breath, but they continued to glare at each other.

“Get out of the way, kid,” Landry said sternly.

“I came to protect her, not hurt her,” Malik said to Landry. “I saw the Ungaru enter your home, and I came in after him; that's all.”

“Thank you,” I said to Malik. “But I had it under control. Now, please leave before Landry blasts you into little bleiten bits.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Landry gaped from me to Malik. “Are you seriously having a polite conversation with a bleiten?”

“I'm sorry about the Ungaru, Amaranthine,” Malik said softly. “I should have caught him before he entered your chambers.”

“No one calls her that,” Landry snapped as he lifted his blaster again. “Her name is Amara.”

Malik glanced at Landry and then slid his gaze back to me. “My deepest apologies, Amara. This is not the sort of sport I wish to bring to your bed.” He took my hand and kissed it lingeringly; his dark gaze fixed to mine. “I hope that you'll give me the chance to return.”

Then Malik swept out of the open window and disappeared into the night like the demon he was.

“They're brown,” I murmured beneath my breath; as the image of Malik's eyes haunted me. “A dark chocolate brown; bittersweet and addictive.”

“Was that fucker flirting with you?” Landry asked in horror. “And were you flirting back?”

His tone broke through my romantic musings, and I was glad it had. What was wrong with me? I was acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush. What was next; writing our names in hearts?

“No; that wasn't flirting,” I murmured, but I wasn't convinced.

“You had better start talking, kid,” Landry slung his blaster over his shoulder.

“Let me wash the blood off my face first,” I said as I headed toward the bathroom.

“You do that.” Landry strode in the opposite direction—to the window—and stared down at the street with a determined look on his face. “And I'll just make sure that Romeo doesn't come back to your window again.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

It took over an hour to calm Landry down and explain how it was that I was on a first-name basis with a bleiten. He wasn't pleased, but that was partly due to the arrival of the Market Police ten minutes into my explanation. Someone had reported gunfire, and MPD had been called in to investigate. Landry brought the officers up to my bedroom, and we provided them with statements about the ungaru corpse on my floor.

We weren't questioned too roughly or taken into custody. The medical examiner had to be called in to that the body was an ungaru; since the most obvious Ungaru trait was their sharp teeth, and this guy's teeth were embedded in my bedroom walls. But once his race had been confirmed, our story about Landry defending me against an assassin became plausible. My recent cooperation with the President, as well as both Landry and my standing in the community, also helped. Everything corroborated our version of events, and the Market Police weren't as restricted by procedure as the human police were; they determined it to be a case of self-defense and that was that. The body was taken away, and we were offered police protection—which we graciously refused.

By the time the Police left, Landry was near to bursting with unanswered questions. He fired one after another at me as soon as the door shut on the investigating officers of MPD. I answered each one patiently until Landry finally sat back in his seat and exhaled a half-annoyed and half-relieved breath.

“He offered to pay you?” Landry asked again. “What kind of Bleiten does that?”

“I don't know,” I murmured. “But Kyrian did say that the Bleiten King has a son

who's been making changes in the Horde. Maybe this is one of those changes?”

“I don't like it.” Landry scowled. “I don't trust it.”

“Of course you don't; I don't either,” I assured him. “Which is why—despite the fact that he tried to save my life tonight—I'm going through with the plan to capture him.”

“Now, that; I approve of,” Landry said. “But be careful with that one, kid. He won't be easy to hold onto even if you manage to catch him.”

“You may be right,” I murmured as I stared at the blood on my walls. “At least we know the blaster works.”

Landry chuckled. “And it was a blast to use too. I've never seen a head explode before; it was something to behold.”

“And that was right after I made his mouth explode,” I noted. “Malik was right; that Ungaru should have listened to him and left me alone.”

“You made his mouth explode?”

“I hit him with blue,” I said. “Right in his pie-hole.”

“Ouch,” Landry grimaced.

I loved that I didn't have to explain the details of my ability to him. Landry had seen it all with me, and he knew the capabilities of every color nearly as well as I did. He knew that a certain shade of blue had a direct effect on the ears, throat, or mouth and that I could use it to heal or harm those areas.

“It's a shame that blue doesn't have an effect on the balls,” Landry muttered as he surveyed the damage with me. “I'd love to hear you say that you gave some guy blue balls.”

“You're all class, Landry,” I teased him.

He chuckled. “It's a good thing I sent you to that fancy school, or you'd be talkin' like me, kid.”

“Perish the thought,” I said dramatically as I smiled affectionately at him.

“I'll hire someone to clean this in the morning,” he said. “Maybe you should sleep in the guest room tonight.”

“Yes; the guest room's a bit more hospitable at the moment.” I made a face at a bit of bloody hair next to my foot.

“Plus, it's at the back of the building and doesn't have a window,” he added.

“Anyone trying to reach you has to get past me and my blaster first.”

“It's going to be okay, Landry,” I said softly.

He stopped and looked back at me with a sigh. “I'm supposed to say that stuff to you, kid.”

“You looked as if you needed to hear it more than me.”

“I'm sorry I gave you hell over the Bleiten,” he said. “I know this has been hard on you.”

“I'm sorry I didn't warn you.” I shook my head. “I should have told you about him when I got home. But you were already in bed, and I was exhausted. The last thing I expected was to be attacked by an ungaru once I got to sleep myself.”

“There's been a lot of unexpected occurrences lately,” Landry noted. “We're going to have to learn to roll with the punches, Amaranthine.”

“Yes; that one was quite a blow, wasn't it?” I huffed.

“He seems to know a lot about you; this Malik.”

“I suppose it wasn't much of a leap to assume that my full name was the same as the elixir,” I mused.

“I suppose.” Landry shrugged.

But he looked unconvinced, and I felt the same way. Malik had been doing more than just watching me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I slept in the next day and didn't get up until after eleven. When I did make it out of bed, I padded down the hallway and crept to my bedroom window to peer through the curtains. Malik was nowhere in sight. Maybe one of his soldiers had relieved him of his Amara duties, or maybe he was just keeping himself hidden. Whatever the case, I had a feeling that I wouldn't see the Bleiten warlord until that evening, which meant that our plan would have to wait until then as well.

Which was just as well because I was starting to have second thoughts. Every time I imagined capturing Malik and handing him over to the Government, I got a horrible quake in my stomach. It just didn't feel right. He hadn't offered me any harm. In fact, he had saved me last night. Was I really going to repay him like this?

I picked up my phone to call Davorin and tell him that I had changed my mind, and it rang. I stared down at it in surprise and then saw the number. It was SA Longchamp.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Madison, it's Special Agent Longchamp from Homeland Security,” she announced herself. “I have some recordings that I need you to listen to. May I play them for you now?”

“Yes, of course,” I said immediately. “Go ahead.”

The crackling of a recording replaced Longchamp's voice, and then came a hurried conversation between two men. As I listened, my body went cold and then erupted into shivers. I swallowed roughly as I grit my teeth. This was what I got for thinking that a bleiten might actually have some honor.

“Did you catch all that?” Longchamp came back on the line.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“What did they say?”

“They said that the Horde is preparing for war against the Triari; fifty Bleiten warships will soon be on their way to Earth. They intend to have their battle here, and they're going to use Devlin's bioweapon to win it,” I said in a tremulous voice. “Call the President and warn him; do it now.”

“Are you sure?” She asked in horror.

“I'm sure!”

“Yes, Ma'am!” She hung up.

I stared at the phone in terror for a moment, and then I rallied myself. If war with

the Bleiten was on the horizon, then it was even more important that we capture Malik. We needed to know everything that Malik did, and with Veritas helping us, it wouldn't matter if Malik were willing to tell us or not. The truth would come out.

I called Davorin and told him what had happened the night before with Malik and the Ungaru. Dav swore a blue-streak, but when I pointed out that we didn't have the tracker to worry about anymore, he began to calm down and process it all. Then I told him about the translation I'd just done for DHS, and he started swearing again.

I gave Davorin a few minutes to let it out; speaking rationally to him while he ranted. When Dav finally got himself under control, he assured me that he'd have the team ready by dusk. He also said that he'd come by to pick me up. I told him that I wasn't getting on his motorcycle ever again; I'd take a cab. Davorin wasn't too happy about that, but I can be very stubborn, and he finally gave in. Regardless of the possibility of a Bleiten attack, Malik appeared to be keeping his word. Which meant that I was safe from the Bleiten... at least until the following evening.

After I hung up with Davorin, I sent President Colton a quick text to let him know about our plan to trap a Bleiten and learn more about their war plans. I knew that Colton would be scrambling to gather his t Chiefs of Staff and prepare for war, but I wanted him to know that we might be able to help in a small way. Despite the looming threat, he called me back in just a few minutes.

“I've just heard that the Bleiten are planning on waging the next Triari-Bleiten war on Earth, and then you text me about catching a Bleiten lord?” He nearly shouted at me.

“We can interrogate him at the very least. He may have vital information about the bioweapon and the Bleiten war plans,” I said. “I had initially intended for you to use him as a bargaining chip on my behalf, but I think war takes precedence.”

“You think?” Colton huffed. Then he sighed. “I'm sorry, Amara; you're being very brave, and you're also right. We can use any intel we can gather and a highranking hostage doesn't hurt either. What do you need from me to make this happen?”

“All I need is for you to have a Bleiten-proof facility ready to hold the prisoner if I'm able to apprehend him,” I said.

“Text me before you begin your hunt, and I'll have a team ready to take him off your hands as soon as you call with confirmation of acquisition,” he promised me. “They'll meet you right outside the Market.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Thank you, Amara,” he said softly. “You're turning into quite the patriot.”

“I don't know about that,” I said and sighed. “I've required more help than I've given.”

“You've also had the sense to deny my help when you saw what it might cost America,” he said firmly. “That takes courage, intelligence, and integrity. I'm

glad to have you on our side.”

“How are our angelic friends?” I asked to get him off the uncomfortable subject of my patriotism.

“Pissed as all hell.” President Colton said with a huffing sound that was nearly a laugh. “They couldn't hold us responsible for your escape since Arc Kyrian himself verified that you have a talent for disappearing. Does that mean what I think it means? Can you turn invisible, Amara?”

“In a way,” I itted.

“I've always thought your supernatural ability was your knack for languages,” he said and chuckled. “How little I know about you.”

“Well, I'm only your translator, Mr. President.”

“My go-to translator who I've been working with since I took office,” he added. “But I suppose your invisibility power is something you'd want to keep secret.”

“It is,” I agreed. “And I'd appreciate if you could help me with that.”

“Not to be rude, Amara, but in light of imminent war, I don't think people will be gossiping about your supernatural talents.”

“Of course not,” I said in an embarrassed rush. “I'm sorry to be holding you up, Mr. President.”

“Don't get stuffy on me,” he said chidingly. “I'm about to have a meeting with those pissed off Triari and probably piss them off, even more, when I ask them to leave Earth.”

“You're asking them to leave?” I asked in shock.

“If the Triari aren't here, the Bleiten won't have their war,” he said simply.

I took a deep, relieved breath and let it out with a shaky laugh; what a beautifully simple solution.

“That's why you're running this country, and I'm running around after Bleiten,” I said. “You're brilliant.”

“Thank you, but I still have to convince the Triari to listen to me,” he said grimly. “So, don't applaud my genius just yet.”

“I have faith in you, Mr. President,” I said sincerely.

“Amara, is invisibility your only talent?” Colton asked suddenly.

“I'll call Agent Washburn as soon as I catch the Bleiten, Mr. President.”

Colton chuckled. “You realize that saying nothing is as good as saying yes?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. President.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Madison,” he said gently. “And good luck.”

“Good luck to you as well, Sir.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

I waited until Malik made an appearance in the alley across the street from The Wilds before I called Davorin and told him Operation Monster Mash was a go. We were meeting in Market Park; a squarish lot in the middle of the Supermarket. It was large in relation to the Market itself; taking up around four blocks of the twenty block mini-city. It was made that way on purpose; to function not only as a green space for enjoyment but also as housing for several types of outdoorsy supernaturals. Landry might have lived there himself if he hadn't had the bar and me. Market Park's lush forest and serene lake were a sanctuary for several of our kind who would have otherwise been unable to live in a city. It also had a few paths that would make perfect locations for a Bleiten trap.

Davorin assured me that the entire team was already in the park with everything set up and ready to go. I was going to lure Malik down one of the park paths and then turn invisible. As he struggled to find me, Maestro would blast Malik with his sonic voice, and Veritas would drop a steel trap on the Bleiten. Then Tempest would use a blow dart to hit Malik with a huge dose of tranquilizer. And just in case all of that didn't work, Dav would turn Malik into stone; temporarily, of course. Lugging Malik's massive statue out of the park wouldn't be easy, but it would be a hell of a lot safer than trying to transport him in the flesh.

I told Landry all about the plan and the possibility of a Triari-Bleiten war on Earth. He cussed nearly as bad as Davorin had and then declared that not only would he be ing the hunt, he'd also be bringing his Bleiten Blaster with him. But I pointed out that I didn't want Malik dead, and also if Malik saw Landry lugging that thing out of the bar, the jig—as they say—would be up. So, Landry grudgingly decided to stay home.

“You call me if anything goes wrong,” Landry said as I headed to the door.

“I will,” I promised. “And I'll also call you if everything goes right.”

Landry huffed a snorting laugh. “All right, kid. Good luck. Break his legs.”

“It's 'break a leg' and that's something you say to actors, Land.”

“Freudian slip,” he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and headed out to the street. Once there, I flagged down a cab and then narrowed my stare at Malik as if I didn't want him following me anywhere. He'd know something was up if I didn't at least look his way so I figured I'd use some reverse psychology on him while I was at it.

Malik was leaning against Mama's again; a cup of coffee in his hand as if he were just your average Joe enjoying his cup of Joe. Malik lifted his styrofoam cup to me in salute, and I gave him a salute back—one of the middle finger variety. That slimy bastard had been trying to seduce me while his people prepared to destroy my home planet with war; I didn't have to feign my fury toward him.

Malik chuckled but made no move to follow me as I got into the cab. I knew he would, though. He'd do it in some secret, Bleiten fashion so it would intimidate me more. That smug, demonic son of a bitch.

“We'll see who's intimidated in the end,” I muttered. Then, to the driver, I said, “Market Park, please.”

The man grunted and angled the cab away from the curb. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled low, and I couldn't see his face. I frowned at that, and then I noticed how bulky he was. Was he large enough to be a Bleiten? It was hard to tell with him sitting down. Had Malik let me leave because he knew that one of his men would be driving me?

I swallowed roughly as I tried to catch a glimpse of the driver's face in the rearview mirror. When that didn't work, I analyzed his aura; it was full of dark, deadly shades—not something I'd expect to find in an average cabbie. I didn't see any streaks of pure black, but Malik didn't have any in his aura either. Maybe I'd been mistaken, and not all Bleiten were evil. Maybe they were like every other race and had their fair share of both bad and good people. Regardless; just because someone wasn't evil, it didn't mean they were good.

“Is that you, Ted?” I asked the driver.

I knew all of the cabbies in the Market, and Ted was the only one with a large enough build to resemble a Bleiten. The cabby's response was to slide the window between us closed and hit a button that locked my doors. No; this wasn't Ted.

And this had not been factored into the plan.

“Who are you?” I demanded as I started pounding on the window. “Stop the car immediately or I will make you stop!”

The cabby kept his head down and kept driving. I was about to throw some color at him when I noticed a change in the air around me; both in scent and appearance. I focused my vision into the ultraviolet range and noticed a fine mist flowing into the backseat through the air vents. I had only a moment to panic before I ed out.

My last thoughts were for Davorin and his team. I hoped the Bleiten didn't know what we were planning for their leader. If they did, the others were probably being taken as well. And if that were the case, we were supremely screwed.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I woke up to explosive noise so loud that it threatened to give me a headache. I rubbed at my temples as I groaned into a sitting position and then squinted into the impenetrable darkness around me. I blinked my vision to infrared and crawled across a cold, cement floor to a door. It was steel and locked tight. Outside the door, I could hear shouting and then some faint screaming. More explosions went off; rocking the whole place. It was violent enough that I was tossed back onto the ground—knocking my head in the process—and I laid there stunned for a few seconds.

My vision went wonky but righted itself quickly as I healed, and I was able to see a sliver of light around the door that hadn't been there before. I switched my vision back to normal, got to my feet, and crept back to the door. The last explosion had been powerful enough to bust the lock open, or perhaps it was an electric lock that had malfunctioned when the system went down. Whatever had happened, it appeared that I had a shot of escaping, and I intended to take it.

I eased the door open a few inches and cautiously peered out. Sparks illuminated the darkness intermittently; crackling electricity that arced from broken wires and across the exposed innards of smashed equipment. Emergency lights flickered on; their pathetic glow radiating through protective bars. I slipped out of the cell and into a long, rectangular room with work tables in its center and several doors set into each wall. I saw only one open doorway that led into a hallway. I could still hear screaming and even some sobbing, but there no one was in sight.

Then a horrible blaring went off. I cringed and noted the fire alarm flashing in a corner. There was definitely smoke in the air and the scent was getting stronger. I needed to find my way out and fast. But on the table directly in front of me, I

spotted my purse. Beside it was a rectangular, metal box; a safe deposit box from a bank. I hurried over and snatched up my purse and then quickly flipped back the lid on the box. Inside the box were Samuel Devlin's notes, but these weren't the ones for creating a bioweapon against the Triari; they were the original project.

“The Bleiten Killer,” I read the succinct title as I scooped the notes up. “You should have burned these, Malik.”

I shoved the papers in my purse and hurried for the door, but the sound of pounding and panicked voices made me pause once more.

“Is someone out there?” A woman's voice cried. “Please, don't leave us here to die!”

“Where are you?” I called back.

“Here!”

“I'm over here!”

“Hello?”

Several voices called out to me from behind the other steel doors.

“Hold on!” I shouted back to them. “Does anyone know how to open these doors?”

“There are security s beside each one! Just hit the green button!”

I ran to the nearest door and pushed the button. The steel door swung open, and a woman rushed out into my arms.

“Thank you!” She hugged me and then pulled back to look around us. “Jesus fuck!”

“Help me free the others,” I said urgently.

We rushed around the room; hitting green buttons until we came to the last door. The button wasn't working; its must have failed like mine. But unlike mine, its failure hadn't opened the door, it had sealed the woman inside.

“We have to go!” One of the other women said. “Look!”

Our stares followed her pointing finger to a door on the far end of the room. Smoke was pouring in from the cracks around it.

“All of you get out of here,” I said. “I'm going to open this damn door.”

Most of the women ran out, but a few others stayed behind.

“You didn't leave us,” the first woman I had freed said. “We're not leaving you.”

“What do we do?” Another one asked.

“We need something heavy to bash this ,” I said.

“No, you don't,” another woman hurried over with a few tools she'd scavenged off the work tables. “We need to get the open and feed the correct wire some electricity.”

“I got your electricity right here,” the first woman said as she lifted her hand; sparks crackled along her fingertips.

“Excellent,” the woman with the tools said as she opened the . She fussed around the wires and finally pulled one loose and cut it. “Here; zap this one.”

“And fucking hurry!” Another woman screeched.

“Please don't leave me,” a female voice whimpered behind the door.

“We aren't leaving you, honey. Don't you worry,” Sparky said as she gave the wires a little zap.

The cell door opened just as the one at the end of the room buckled and creaked. The woman inside the room lurched out; straight into Sparky's arms.

“Let's get the fuck out of here!” Sparky declared.

We all ran for the open door leading to the hallway. I slammed it closed behind us and heard another explosion a few moments afterward. But I didn't look back. There was sunlight at the end of the corridor, and I focused on that instead. We all put on an extra burst of speed as we ran for it; our footsteps echoing off the walls. The cries of the other women filtered down to us; urging us to go even faster. My breath sawed in and out of my throat and adrenaline surged through my veins. I knew I'd survive, but my fear of fire was instinctual, not rational.

Finally, we burst free of the building, and I motioned the waiting women to move even further away. I didn't know what was inside that place or how flammable it was. We needed to get out of the blast zone.

“Keep running!” I shouted.

The women didn't argue, they just turned and ran. We were in an industrial zone on the outskirts of D.C. And the streets were deserted; lit by only a few struggling streetlamps. But a full moon hung overhead, and it illuminated our escape down the stained sidewalk. We ran for two blocks until we were out of breath and strength, and then we dropped into crouches as we panted with fear and exhaustion. As I caught my breath, an enormous explosion drew my

attention back the way we'd come.

The night sky erupted into a soaring column of flames and smoke that went higher than the surrounding buildings. More explosions boomed out; rolling across the city like thunder. Within minutes, the sound of firetrucks was heard wailing their way toward danger. I collapsed against a cement wall and tried to calm my racing heart.

“I can't believe we're free,” Sparky said to me. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” I shook my head. “My door got blasted open; I was just lucky.”

“But you saved us instead of running,” the last woman we released said. “Thank you; if all of you hadn't stayed to help me, I'd be burning in that right now.” She pointed back at the inferno.

“Well, not all of us stayed.” Sparky sent the other women a hard look, and they quickly looked away.

“Hey, it's not easy to be brave,” I said to Sparky. “Fear is instinctual. Our blood tells us to run, and it's hard to go against your own blood.”

I knew that better than most.

“Denying our instincts is what separates us from animals,” Sparky said angrily.

“It can also get you killed. We nearly didn't make it out of there, and then all of us would have died instead of only one,” I said gently. “But we were lucky as well as brave, and we did make it out; let's focus on that.”

“All right.” She held her hands up. “I'll let it go.”

“How long have you all been there?” I asked as I fished my phone out of my purse.

“Weeks for me,” one said.

“A few days,” Sparky said.

Each of them had a different answer. And then I saw their eyes; purple, every single one.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “You're the missing girls from the Supermarket.”

They all nodded.

“Well, that changes things,” I deleted the 911 I had started to dial and punched in 000 instead.

“What's your emergency?” A woman answered.

“Fire, abduction, and the creation of racially-targeted bioweapons,” I said. “Take your pick.”

There was silence for a second. Then, “What's your location, Ma'am?”

“I don't know where we are,” I said tiredly. “But there's a warehouse on fire straight down the street from us that we just escaped from. I think the flames are high enough for you to follow. If it isn't, you can track my phone.”

“You're outside the Market?”

“Yes; but this is supe business. I have the missing women from the Market with me,” I said. “I think Grundage will want our people here before the human police muscle in. Human firefighters are already on scene.”

“Understood,” she said. “We can find you through them. I'll send a supe ambulance to pick you up.”

“Me and eight others,” I said.

“Do you have all of the missing women?” The operator asked.

“As far as I know,” I said.

“Help is on the way. Would you like me to stay on the line with you until they arrive?”

“No, thank you,” I said. “I have other calls to make.”

I hung up as she sputtered. Then I dialed Landry.

“Where the fuck are you, kid?” Landry growled.

“I don't really know, Land,” I said. “I just escaped some kind of mad scientist laboratory.”

“You what?!”

“I wanted you to know that I'm okay,” I said calmly. “And I found Davorin's missing ladies. They're okay too.”

“Damn,” Landry whispered. “You've been busy. You gonna be all right?”

“The Market is sending an ambulance,” I said. “We'll be fine.”

“How are they going to find you if you don't know where you are?”

“I think the flames will help them,” I said dryly.

“What?!”

“I'm okay,” I repeated. “Don't worry; I'll be home soon.”

“No, you won't; they're going to take you to the fucking hospital, kid,” Landry growled. “It would be best if you avoided that.”

“Oh,” I murmured. “Yes, of course.”

“Do that Google thing and locate your damn self,” Landry growled. “Then call me back and tell me where you are, and I'll come get you.”

“I'm not leaving these ladies alone,” I protested.

“You can wait for the ambulance, just don't get on it.” Landry hung up.

“Well, duh,” I muttered primly as I opened Google maps and found out where I was. “I did just wake up after being drugged; he could have cut me some slack.”

“Was that your father?” Sparky asked.

“Yes,” I said without thinking. And then I said it again, more firmly, because Landry was my dad. “Yes; that was my father.”

“Can I use your phone to call my parents?” She asked.

“Two more calls and it's all yours,” I promised. “You can it around.”

I called Landry back and told him where I was, and then I called Davorin to let him know that I was all right. I cut him off when he tried to get more information out of me and told him to meet me at The Wilds. Then I handed my cell phone to Sparky.

As she spoke to her parents, I asked the others about the Bleiten, but they all said that they mainly dealt with a few men who looked like scientists, not soldiers. The only man they'd seen who they could be certain was a Bleiten, was the one who had abducted them. They couldn't tell if the scientists were Bleiten as well, but the scientists had been savvy about dealing with the supe ladies. Each woman was restrained in a manner that restricted her individual ability before she was brought into the main room and had samples of her blood taken. That sounded like some serious preparation. Those women must have been watched before they were targeted, and that sounded familiar.

The Bleiten had either hired scientists on Earth or had brought some with them, but either way, they knew what they were doing. Although one of the telltale Bleiten traits was their substantial size, there were non-warrior classes who were said to be smaller in stature. So, it was entirely possible that the scientists had been Bleiten. I assumed that despite their reduced size, Bleiten civilians would still possess the sharp features and even sharper canines of a warrior. So, I asked the women if they had noticed such things on the scientists. They all shook their heads; details like facial features tend to blur when you're terrified.

But our conversation served to remind me that not all Bleiten were created equal, and if they had brought scientists with them to Earth, then perhaps they had brought others too. In short; we may have been too hasty in dismissing the bank robbers as non-Bleiten simply due to their size. The men who DHS had been able to follow were definitely not Bleiten; I'd seen their pictures and they didn't display any of the traits. But that didn't rule out the others; even though it was unheard of, it could be a mixed crew.

As I was subtly questioning the ladies, they used my cell phone to call their loved ones, and before they were finished, their ride showed up. It was an average-looking ambulance driven and manned by average looking individuals who were actually supernaturals. Landry arrived a few minutes later, just as an EMT started looking me over. There was nothing wrong with me, of course, but he still wanted me to go with the others to the small hospital in the Supermarket and have some tests done.

“She said no, buddy,” Landry said sternly. “See to the rest of them.”

The EMT gave us both an annoyed look but was obviously reluctant to argue with Landry. He gave up and headed to Sparky.

“Hey,” Sparky called after me as I walked away. “You just going to leave without saying goodbye?”

“Goodbye, Sparky,” I called back. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“My name's not Sparky; it's Alexandra,” she said. “What's yours?”

“Her name's Spectra,” Landry said as he hauled me away.

I looked at him in shock.

“We don't need Grundage and her group knowing that you were here,” he said. “This is going to be a fucking mess, and we're already involved in a homicide.”

“I'm going to have to deal with it eventually,” I said as I slid into the enger seat of Landry's Jaguar.

Yes; the barman had a thing for luxury cars.

“No, you won't,” Landry said decisively as he turned the engine on. “Let the human and supe leaders figure it out.”

“But I know it was the Bleitens,” I said as we drove away from the women with

purple eyes. “And then there's this.”

I pulled out Devlin's notes.

“What's that?”

“This is a recipe for killing Bleiten,” I said cryptically.

Landry just started to smile.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

On the way home, I noticed that—among the droves of messages from Landry and Davorin—I had six text messages from the President. I texted him back; concisely explaining what had happened. It was all of three minutes before my phone was ringing.

“You were abducted?” President Colton asked in a horrified tone. “I'm assuming that it occurred when you tried to trap the Bleiten.”

“I never made it to the park,” I said. “I was drugged on the way; in the back of a cab. I woke up in a cell just as a series of explosions began.”

“You got blown up?!”

“Obviously not,” I said calmly. “I was able to make it out with eight other women. But the important thing is what I snagged on my way out the door, Mr. President.”

“A Bleiten's head on a platter?” He asked dryly.

“Who do you think I am; Salome?” I huffed. “No; I found the notes to make a Bleiten bioweapon; as in a weapon to kill them.”

He went silent.

“Mr. President?”

“Hold onto those notes, Amara, and don't share them with anyone,” he said grimly. “The Triari are being stubborn about leaving. They see it as a cowardly act.”

“But you don't want the notes, Mr. President?”

“Not yet,” he said. “Frankly, I'm loathed to sink to such levels, and if I hand them over to the DOD, we will become a part of this feud between the Bleiten and the Triari, and we will do it in the most despicable way.”

“After all the horrible things they've done, you won't use this to even the score?” I asked in surprise. “They employed the same type of weapon against the Triari. They intend to use it again in this war.”

“And that makes it okay for us to employ evil tactics?”

“No,” I whispered. “It's not okay. The question is; do you think it's a necessary evil?”

“So far, Amara, the Bleiten have only attacked the Triari,” he pointed out. “They haven't hurt any of our people.”

“They just abducted me,” I pointed out. “And we have confirmation that they're coming here to have their war on our planet.”

“But did they hurt you?” He countered. “And is an overheard conversation really confirmation, or is it simply intel that we must analyze cautiously?”

“Gee, thanks,” I huffed. “My hero.”

The H word made me think of Davorin immediately. He wouldn't hesitate to make a weapon and use it to kill those Bleiten bastards who had abducted me and all those other women. But, did I want him to? Did I really think that we should use such a horrible weapon? Or did I agree with Colton and think that resorting to such measures was evil; a slippery slope that I wanted to avoid?

“You know that I would go to bat for you, Amara,” Colton chided me. “I already have. I threatened war for you. But I wouldn't threaten nuclear war, and this bioweapon is a step away from that. If we use it against the Bleiten, what will stop them from creating one to use against us? Frankly, they wouldn't need to create a weapon; all they would have to do is decide to annihilate us, and humankind would be a memory. We must tread carefully in these alien waters, Amara. But most importantly, we must not lose sight of our morality and our humanity.”

“Do you really think the bioweapon is evil?”

“You didn't see what it did to the Triari. It was quick, but it was far from

painless,” he said softly. “And they never stood a chance, Amara. To kill someone in so cowardly a fashion—to not give them the opportunity to defend themselves—that feels evil to me.”

“The U.S. drops bombs on its enemies all the time,” I pointed out.

“Hardly,” he scoffed. “We have done it when we felt it was necessary, but even a bomb can be outmaneuvered. At least, a normal one. Chemical warfare is the stuff of nightmares. I say we leave it to the demons and sleep with a clear conscience.”

“You're a damn good man, Mr. President,” I whispered. “I have never been more proud to be an American. I wish I could replay this conversation for the entire world to hear.”

“Thank you, Amara,” he said softly. “Now, please, keep those notes safe, because, I assure you, the entire world will not share my opinion. I must be the leader they elected me to be and keep them safe from themselves as well as others. If we have no other choice, we can use the bioweapon to defend ourselves, but I intend for that to be our last resort.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I'm glad you're all right.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“And, Amara, we all have our roles to play; you're the hero, not me. I'm the man who talks others into being heroic.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Landry parked his car in his garage—a converted alley beside the bar—and we headed toward the door.

“Amara,” a deep, male voice stopped us.

“Fuck,” Landry growled as he grabbed my hand and ran.

But Malik beat us to the door and blocked our way.

“Move aside, Bleiten,” Landry growled as he pushed me behind him.

“I'm not here to hurt anyone.” Malik held his hands up. “I only wanted to make sure that Amara was all right.”

“I'm fine now that I've escaped your lab, thank you,” I hissed.

“Lab?” Malik's eyes narrowed at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you seriously going to play the innocent now?” I asked in amazement. “I

found the other women, Malik!”

“What other women?” His scowl deepened.

“The other women with purple eyes!” I waved a hand to my own eyes. “The ones your men thought were me and abducted.”

“Amara, we've always known who you are,” Malik said slowly and with a confused frown. “We never abducted any women.”

“Bullshit!” I hissed. “All of them said that it was a bleiten who kidnapped them, and I saw the equipment that you used to make the bioweapon.”

“What bioweapon?” Malik's voice was rising in what sounded like true confusion. He shook his head and held his hands out in frustration. “Look; there's no way that one of my soldiers abducted anyone without my knowledge —it just isn't possible. So, I don't know who took those women, but it wasn't a bleiten.”

“So, someone impersonated a bleiten?” I asked skeptically.

“Amara, I was tracking you in that cab, and then it turned into an alley and just disappeared,” Malik said patiently. “I've been searching for you ever since. I don't have any knowledge of abducted women, or a lab, or a bioweapon.”

“You're saying that you didn't kill the Triari?” I went still and narrowed my eyes at Malik. “I suppose you're also going to deny that your people are preparing to battle the Triari here on Earth.”

“Battle the Triari?” He gaped at me. “We aren't here for death, Amara; we're here for life.”

“Don't fucking listen to this bullshit, kid,” Landry huffed. “Just blast the motherfucker!”

“Blast me with what?” Malik lifted his brows. “What's he talking about?”

“Just answer the question,” I snapped. “Did you kill the Triari?”

“The ones at the hotel?” He countered.

“Of course, the ones at the hotel!”

“No!” Malik shouted back. “That ungaru trailed your blood to the hotel, but you were already gone, and the Triari were already dead. It's the reason I ended his contract; he failed. Honestly, Amara, I thought you had killed them. I was damn impressed.”

“Why would I kill them?” I nearly screeched.

“For trying to take—”

“Get away from her, you demon spawn!” Davorin shouted as his motorcycle screeched to a stop beside us.

Dav jumped off his bike—letting it crash to the pavement—and launched himself at Malik. Malik swung about and knocked Davorin aside with his forearm. But Dav was barely down a second before he was right back at Malik's throat.

“Don't make me hurt you, boy,” Malik growled in Davorin's face and then bared his teeth like a wolf.

“You can fucking try,” Davorin snapped back as he reached for Malik; the tips of his fingers turning ashy with his power.

“Hey, what's going on?” Bob—an evolved with bright orange skin—stuck his head out of Mama's Diner. “You need some help, Landry?”

People were lining the windows of Mama's; staring at us—several were on their cell phones. I had a feeling that the Market Police would be giving us another visit. Malik noticed it too. His eyes narrowed at our audience before flicking to the stone energy in Davorin's hand and then, finally, to me.

“We'll finish our conversation later, Amara,” Malik promised grimly as he

punched Davorin in the face. “Just do me the courtesy of not convicting me before you allow me to defend myself.”

As Dav went sailing down the street, Malik disappeared into the alley beside Mama's Diner. Bob rushed out to shout after him but wisely didn't give chase. Davorin rolled as he hit the ground, jumped to his feet, and went running after Malik, but he returned just minutes later.

“He's gone. I don't know how he did it, but he disappeared without a trace,” Davorin reported. “Are you all right, Amara?”

“I'm fine,” I said. “Thank you, Dav.”

“Nice timing, kid,” Landry said to Davorin. Then he called over to Bob, “Don't be a hero, Bob; that was a fucking Bleiten! Get back inside the diner!”

“A Bleiten?” Bob squeaked and ran inside.

I lifted a brow at Landry. “Kid” was a term he reserved for people younger than himself who he liked. And Landry didn't like a lot of people. He shrugged at me and smiled. Yeah; Davorin grew on you... like the plague.

“I came as soon as she called,” Davorin said as he righted his bike.

“Did you damage your motorcycle?” I asked with a concerned glance at the

chrome.

“I don't give a fuck about the motorcycle, Mara,” Davorin snapped as he propped it on its kickstand. “I'm just relieved that you're safe.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “That's very chivalrous.”

Davorin blinked as a tremulous smile twitched over his lips; as if it wasn't sure it wanted to be there. “Chivalrous, huh? I'll take that.”

“Come inside, you two,” Landry said. “We don't want to be out here when the cops arrive. Or when that fucker brings his friends back with him.”

I shared a grimace with Davorin, and then we followed Landry into the packed bar. It was a good thing The Wilds didn't have any windows or there would have been a handful of drunk supes rushing outside to help us; alcohol making them braver than Bob.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“What if he was telling the truth?” I asked Davorin.

We were settled at a table near the back of The Wilds; waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. I'd already been up to the apartment to take a quick shower and change into a comfortable knit dress and some knee-high boots. Davorin had called in Lily, Jason, and Leo while I was upstairs.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Davorin gaped at me.

“His aura didn't have even a hint of deceit in it,” I mused.

“His aura?” Davorin huffed. “Oh, well, if his aura was clear, then we should absolutely trust him.”

“I trust colors,” I snapped at Davorin. “Colors never lie.”

Davorin's jaw clenched as he glared at me.

“For example; your aura tells me that you can't decide whether you want to throttle me or kiss me,” I said with a smirk.

Dav's eyes went wide, and he made a surprised bark of laughter. “Yeah; all right. I think I'd rather go with the latter, though.”

“Not until the third date,” I teased him.

“Does that mean you'll give me a first date?” He shot back.

“I might consider it,” I said. “If you insist on being so gallant.”

Davorin laughed more, but then he abruptly went serious. “Let's say, for the sake of argument, that the Bleiten is telling the truth. Then who killed the Triari? And why were those men talking about a Bleiten-Triari war?”

“I haven't a clue,” I murmured. “All I know for certain is that I didn't kill them.”

“It wasn't me either,” Davorin said. “But neither of us have a motive. In fact, no one has a motive to kill a bunch of Triari; except for your demon boyfriend.”

“He's neither a demon nor my boyfriend,” I said tiredly. “Are you going to be terribly boring and get jealous of a man whose people killed my parents?”

“No, of course not,” he said with instant regret. “I don't know why I... just forget I said that.”

“I found Devlin's notes on how to create a bioweapon to kill Bleiten,” I whispered.

“Where? In the lab?”

“Yes,” I said. “I offered them to the President, and he declined.”

“Why?” Davorin gaped at me.

“He believes that it's an evil way to fight,” I said with a smile. “He wants to save it for a last resort measure.”

“Damn; he really is that good a guy?” Davorin asked in shock. “I didn't think there was such a thing as a good man in office.”

“Me either.” I chuckled. “I like him. He's the first man who has made me question my own morality. I think I needed that. It's easy to get wrapped up in revenge and justify your own actions, no matter how terrible they might be. He stopped me from going there.”

“Oh?” Davorin asked softly.

“I don't like him like that.” I shook my head. “You are going to be boring, aren't

you?”

“Mara, if there's one thing I'm not, it's boring,” Davorin said with a smirk. “I was just feeling out where my competition is.”

“Well, it's not the President of the United States or a Bleiten lord,” I said.

“Then who is it?” He lifted a challenging brow at me.

“For the moment, you're in the ring alone, champ,” I murmured. “But that doesn't mean you win by default.”

“Perish the thought,” he mimicked me.

“The purple-eyed ladies are all recovering nicely in Market General,” Jason reported as he took a seat at our table. Then he looked back and forth between Davorin and me warily. “Have I interrupted something?”

“No,” we said in unison.

“Why do people even try to lie to me?” Jason asked the ceiling.

“Whatever,” Davorin huffed. “Where are the others?”

“We're right here,” Leo said as he walked up with Lily. “We were grabbing some drinks.”

“Nothing for you?” I asked Jason.

“I want to stay sharp,” he said. “Tell us all about this lab, Amara.”

“I didn't see much of it before it turned into a fireball,” I lamented. “There was a central work area with computers and equipment that looked standard for such a thing; not that I'd know. Then there were cells around the space where the women were held; myself included. The explosion seemed to come from another part of the lab; behind a door that luckily held the fire back long enough for us to escape.”

“The Market Police are interviewing the women,” Lily said. “But they haven't released a statement to the public yet.”

“I spoke to the women,” I said. “They didn't have much information, except that they dealt mainly with scientists who may or may not have been Bleiten. They were all certain that a bleiten abducted them, though.”

Davorin made a face and looked away.

“What?” Leo asked.

“That Bleiten Lord who accosted Amara in Flamethrower's showed up here,” Davorin said. “He told Mara that he's innocent, and he doesn't know who kidnapped her or the others. Or who killed the Triari, for that matter.”

“Bullshit,” Jason said. “I don't need to touch the guy to know that.”

“I'm not so sure,” I said. “Something about this feels wrong. Like broken clock gears clicking together; it makes a lot of noise, but it never chimes.”

“The only thing wrong is you,” Lily said. “The Bleiten are behind this; it has to be them.”

“Look, if anyone has cause to hate the Bleiten, it's me,” I said. “But whoever is doing this has a motive, and I think it's about more than getting my blood.”

They all rolled their eyes at me.

“Malik has fangs,” I blurted.

They gave me blank looks.

“He could have bitten me in the club, sucked out a nice mouthful of blood, and been done with it,” I pointed out. “Why release me? Why go through all of this

trouble to offer me money and a new life if he were just planning on grabbing me the next day? It doesn't make sense. None of this makes any sense. I feel as if I'm missing something.”

“I don't know about all that,” Jason said. “But if the Bleiten are planning on war, an immortality elixir would be a weapon in itself. It would make them unstoppable, and it would explain why they're offering you so much for it.”

“But wouldn't they be even more inclined to just take it from me, if that were the case?” I asked. “The possibility of war makes this even more senseless.”

“Maybe one of his underlings acted without telling him,” Lily suggested. “A guy like that would be pissed off to be disobeyed.”

“Angry enough to blow up an entire lab?” Leo asked.

“Maybe.” Davorin nodded. “He punched me twenty feet down the street, and that was when he was calm.”

“He sent you flying twenty feet?” Jason's eyes went wide. “You?”

“I wasn't stone at the time,” Davorin grumbled.

“I need to think about this,” I murmured.

“Sure; take all the time you want.” Lily grimaced. “We'll just be here watching your back.”

“Your cold is gone,” I noted with surprise.

Lily blinked. “Yeah; I got better.”

“I'm glad,” I said. “And thank you for watching over me. But, honestly, at the moment, I'm more concerned about the Triari than I am about the Bleiten.”

“Because you're a damn fool, Amara,” Kyrian declared as he strode up.

Chapter Thirty

“How did you find me?” I asked Kyrian immediately.

“This is your foster father's bar,” Kyrian huffed. “It didn't take a brilliant mind to work it out.”

“No.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean; how did the Triari find me here on Earth? Prince Atren said that the Triari discovered that I was alive and had been given the elixir. How did you discover that?”

“I tracked you from the site of your old home,” he said. “I told you that.”

“No; you told me that my scent was still there and you had been there,” I reminded him. “You never said that was how you knew who I was.”

“Well, it was.”

“You're being evasive, Kyrian,” I snapped.

Jason grabbed Kyrian's shoulder suddenly and then announced, “You're lying.”

I rounded my eyes at Kyrian as he shook Jason off.

“I can make you tell the truth,” Jason warned him.

“We received an anonymous message,” Kyrian itted grudgingly.

“You were sent here to find me because of some random message?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“That's weak,” Davorin said.

“It included a photograph of you and a mention of the Supermarket,” Kyrian added when Jason lifted his hand menacingly.

“What photograph?” I asked in a deadly calm tone.

“Just a photograph,” Kyrian said.

“Show it to me, Kyrian!” I snarled.

Kyrian sighed deeply and pulled out his little communication device. He spoke into it; asking it—in Triari—to bring up photo 226. An image appeared as a hologram above the device; it was of me standing next to a doorway that was

bordered by pairs of half-circle side tables and sconces.

“Damn it all to hell!” I cursed as I pulled out my cell phone.

“What?” Davorin asked while I texted furiously.

Kyrian just frowned at me.

“That's the White House,” I said and hit Send. “That door leads to the Roosevelt Room.”

“So?” Lily asked.

“The Roosevelt Room is a meeting room directly across from the Oval Office,” I added with more meaning.

“Son of a fucking fishbitch!” Davorin cursed.

“Ironically, it's been called the fish room,” I muttered absently. “Because Franklin Roosevelt displayed an aquarium and his fishing mementos in it.”

“Thanks for the history lesson.” Lilly rolled her eyes.

“There really is a spy,” Kyrian murmured thoughtfully. “I need to inform Prince Traegus.”

Kyrian pushed a few buttons on his device; the image of me disappeared, and then he held the device to his ear. Before anyone answered his call, the President answered my text. It was short and sweet; Stay hidden until I you. I will handle this. I angled the phone for Davorin to see.

“Good advice,” Dav said. “My place?”

“I don't think so,” I said. “I need someplace new.”

“I'm on it.” Davorin started texting too.

As I answered President Colton with a thumbs-up emoji, Kyrian ended his conversation and gave me a grim look.

“You can try to take me into custody, Kyrian,” I said. “But you're outnumbered. We may not be as strong a soldier as you individually, but our talents are significant, and when we use them together, we're stronger than any Triari arc.”

“And if they don't scare you, this should do the trick.” Landry lifted his Bleiten Blaster from behind the bar and leveled it at Kyrian. “No one makes my girl go anywhere she doesn't want to go.”

Kyrian's eyes went wide. “You're threatening me with a weapon made to kill Bleiten?”

“It should work just fine on you,” Landry pointed out calmly. “It took out an Ungaru with it recently.”

“An Ungaru?” Kyrian scowled at me.“Was it the tracker?”

“He won't be a problem anymore,” I said cryptically.

“You should have told me,” he said sternly.

I just made an annoyed face.

“I can't return without you, Amara. It was a direct order,” Kyrian said soberly.

“Then you won't be returning at all, Arc.” Landry cocked his gun.

“I'm on your side,” Kyrian ignored Landry. “We are your people; we're not going to hurt you.”

“No, darling. These are my people,” I waved my hands around me at everyone in the bar. Then I pointed at Landry. “And he is my family.” I stood up and glared at Kyrian. “But you? All you've done is cause trouble for me. You're not anything to me but a pain in my ass.”

“Amara—” Kyrian started to speak.

“I'm going to do the translating this time,” Davorin cut Kyrian off as he stood beside me. “The lady said; Get the fuck out.”

Kyrian's gaze shot around the room. Davorin wasn't the only one taking a stand with Landry; all of the customers inside The Wilds had stood and set their hard stares on Kyrian. The Arc was no longer welcome.

“You're making a serious mistake,” Kyrian said to me.

“I'm okay with that,” I shot back.

“What a shame.” Kyrian stood and calmly walked out of the bar.

Landry didn't set his blaster down until Kyrian was well gone. Then everyone in the bar cheered, and Landry declared a round on the house for their show of . There was even more cheering for that. I have to it that I was deeply touched by the Market supes literally standing up for me. These were people I had grown up around, and I did consider them to be my community, but I hadn't expected them to fight for me. I suppose that was simply my cynical

nature rearing its ugly head again... and also getting proven wrong again. Soon, I'd have to rethink my whole world-view.

As Trent, the bartender on duty started to pour drinks, Landry waved me back to his office. Davorin and the rest of his team went with me, and Landry closed the door behind us.

“Take the hatch,” Landry said as he pushed a button hidden behind a bookshelf.

The shelf swung out and revealed a round hatch; like the kind you'd find on a submarine.

“This is awesome!” Jason declared. “Where does it lead?”

“To Mama's basement,” Landry said. “It's our shared escape route if either of us needs help. You'll find a security on the back of hers; the code is,” Landry leaned in to whisper it in my ear.

“What; you don't trust us?” Davorin asked.

“No,” Landry said blandly. “And if any of you speak of my secret hatch to anyone outside this room, I will make you into mulch.”

“I believe you,” Jason said before swallowing visibly.

“Good.” Landry opened the hatch. “Now, get my girl somewhere safe. I'm trusting you with her, and she's far more important than the hatch. So, you'd better not fail me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Davorin said. “We've got her back.”

“She may not be able to die, but there are things worse than death,” Landry said softly. “And those Triari aren't going to give up any easier than the Bleiten.”

“I've got somewhere to take her, Landry,” Davorin assured him. “I'll keep her safe.”

Landry nodded, and Davorin climbed into the hole in the wall. I let the others follow him as I hugged Landry goodbye.

“Give me your phone,” Landry said. “They can track you with it.”

I dutifully handed him my cell phone, and Landry handed me my coat.

“One more thing; I went back to the lot where you used to live,” Landry said as he pulled something out of his pocket. “I communed with the soil; I was trying to calm it before I set it on fire. But the soil had something to say. Someone disturbed it recently. When I explored the site of trauma, I found this buried there.”

He handed me a shred of cloth with a dark stain on it. I scowled and looked it over. One of the two intact corners had a tiny blue flower embroidered onto it. I inhaled sharply and smoothed out the fabric.

“This belonged to someone I helped over a month ago,” I said.

“Who?” Landry asked.

“I don't know his name,” I said. “He was being mugged, and I sent the robbers running, but as luck would have it, they ran into me, and I went crashing into a wall. I hit it hard and cracked my nose. It was no big deal—I healed in a few moments—but I had blood all over my face. The guy pulled out his handkerchief and gave it to me; this handkerchief.”

“He took it back after you bled on it,” Landry made it a statement instead of a question.

“He did,” I whispered. “And I didn't think anything of it.”

“Why would you?” Landry asked and grimaced. “I didn't warn you that your blood was priceless.”

“This isn't your fault,” I said gently. “You did what you thought was best.”

“I should have prepared you better,” Landry said as he brought out a lighter, lit the fabric, and then tossed it in an ashtray.

“You prepared me for the life you wanted me to have,” I said gently. “That's what parents do.”

“Don't come back until it's safe, kid,” he said gruffly and then sniffed.

“Okay,” I promised. “You be safe too, Land.”

“Don't you worry about me.” He patted the blaster. “I'll be just fine.”

Chapter Thirty-One

“We need to get you out of the city,” Davorin said as we navigated the underground tunnel to Mama's Diner. “As I said to Landry; I know the perfect place.”

“I don't like the idea of running,” I said with a scowl. “If I start now, I may never stop.”

“What's the alternative?” Lily asked. “We make a stand?”

“That Arc will be back with a full cadre of soldiers,” Jason added. “Sometimes, the smartest path is one that you take running. At least until you can find a nice place to stop and make camp.”

“Valid.” I sighed.

“We're at the hatch,” Davorin said.

I moved to the front and punched in the code. The hatch swung open, and we climbed into the Diner's dark cellar. I crept past shelves of flour, sugar, and spices toward the door on the other end of the room; using my infrared vision to guide us. Before I could reach the door, it opened and Mama strode in.

“There you are,” she said quietly. “Land called to warn me that you'd be coming through. He says you need to get out of D.C..”

Davorin smirked at me.

“Yes; we do,” I confirmed. “Davorin has a place.”

“Don't tell me where.” She held up her hands to ward off the information but then slipped one into the pocket of her faded gingham apron. She pulled out a keychain with a single key on it and handed it to me. “Take my van, sweetie. No one will be able to see you if you sit in the back.”

“Thanks, Mama.” I hugged her after accepting the keys.

“And all of you look after my girl,” Mama said to the others. “She's special.”

“We know, and we will,” Davorin promised. “Thank you for the van; it would have been difficult to transport us all together.”

“You're very welcome,” Mama said. “Now, scoot! Go out the back.”

She swept her hands at us in the direction of the back door.

“Let me go first,” Davorin offered.

Dav went to the backdoor, opened it a crack, and then a little further. He peered outside warily and then stepped out completely. A minute later, Davorin ducked back in and gave us the all-clear.

We hurried out to a beat-up, eighties van; something I would have called a pedophile cruiser. It was a dark blue, steel box without side windows. The sliding door in the side opened to reveal a faded carpet that was nearly worn down to its base fabric. There was an empty plastic milk crate, but other than that, it was clean and perfect for sneaking me out of the city. I climbed in and found a spot near the back; angling my legs to one side as I sat. It was a bit chilly on the floor but the van wall was even colder so I sat up as straight as I could.

“Unbelievable,” Lily said as she jumped in after me. “Even in the back of an old van, you still sit like a lady.”

“I'm in a skirt,” I pointed out as I smoothed the fabric around my knees. “If I sit any other way, I'll flash my world at everyone.”

“Feel free to share your world with me anytime you wish,” Jason said as he climbed in back with us girls. “I'd love to explore it.”

“Don't make me turn your dick to stone, Jason,” Davorin called back. “I really don't want to touch it.”

“I was only teasing,” Jason said with a pout.

Once we were all inside, Davorin started the van and drove us out into traffic slowly; following every driving law. Luckily, Mama's Diner was near the end of the Market, and we were soon driving beneath the Chinese arch and into the human section of the city. But I didn't breathe easy until we were out of D.C. completely. Then I crept toward the front and peered out the windshield between the two bucket seats.

“Where are we going?” I asked Davorin.

“Berlin,” he said.

A stunned silence fell.

Davorin glanced at us and then laughed. “Berlin, Maryland,” he clarified. “It's only a couple hours away.”

“Oh,” I said with relief. “What's in Berlin?”

“Less than five-thousand people, for one thing,” Dav said. “It's a little town, and I happen to have a house there.”

“You have a house in Maryland?” I asked. “Why do you live in D.C.?”

“I like living in the D.C. Market.” Dav shrugged. “The house was my grandmother's; she left it to me when she ed.”

“And it didn't go to your parents?” Leo—who was sitting in the only enger seat—asked.

“My parents have their own house.” Davorin shrugged. Then he glanced at me. “Leo, give Amara your seat, would ya? I think it's safe now, and she looks damn uncomfortable.”

“Oh!” Leo looked back at me. “Yeah; sure.”

Leo unbuckled his seat belt and climbed into the back of the van.

“Thank you, darling,” I said as I slipped up front. “Yes, that's much better.”

“Nobody's worried about my comfort,” Lily huffed.

“You're in jeans, Lil,” Leo said. Then he smirked at her and added, “And you didn't call me 'darling.'”

“Did you want the seat, Lily?” I offered.

“No; I'm good. I just like making them sweat.” She winked at me.

“I like the back better anyway,” Leo declared as he stretched out. “I can take a nap.”

“I swear; every chance you get, you take a nap,” Lily said. “You're like a cat.”

“Thank you very much,” Leo said and then yawned.

“I guess I'll have to stop making fun of your superhero hobby now,” I said to Davorin.

“Oh, you can still tease me, but you'll only be making fun of yourself since you're a part of the gang now,” Davorin said.

“I don't recall accepting the invitation,” I countered.

“You owe us,” Jason pointed out. “And you know what we'll ask for.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Just give it a try,” Davorin cajoled. “If you don't like it, you don't have to keep doing it.”

“Fine,” I gave in. “If I survive, I'll help you keep the streets of D.C. safe from the vicious villains prowling them.”

Davorin grinned brightly. “Wonderful!”

“On a trial basis,” I added.

“I can just see you now, stopping a mugging; 'Pardon me, but would you mind terribly not doing that?'” Lily mimicked my voice.

“I don't sound like that,” I said stiffly. “I went to Yale, not Cambridge.”

“I don't even know what that means,” Lily murmured with a confused expression.

“It means that I don't have a British accent,” I said.

“Oh, she dishes it out, but she can't take it!” Jason chortled.

“That reminds me,” I said to Davorin. “I stopped a mugging a few weeks ago

and ended up with a bloody nose. The guy I saved handed me a handkerchief, and I used it to wipe up the blood.”

“Yeah?” Davorin narrowed his eyes at me. “Then what?”

“Then he took it back,” I said with a grim look. “I didn't think anything of it at the time because it was before I knew about the elixir, but Landry found a scrap of the same bloody handkerchief buried beneath the burned remains of my parents' home.”

“What?” Davorin asked in confusion. “That makes no sense. Why would someone do that?”

“And how would this person even know where you used to live?” Lily added.

“I don't know,” I said. “But combined with that picture sent to the Triari, I'm thinking it was someone on the White House staff.”

“Maybe you should text the President again,” Davorin suggested.

“He's already been warned,” I said. “There's no sense in telling him that the spy in his midst is even worse than we thought.”

“What worries me is that you said it was only a piece of the handkerchief,” Jason pointed out. “What happened to the rest of it?”

“It could be anywhere. Someone is leading people around the city,” I muttered angrily. “And they're using my blood to do it.”

“Not just people; Bleiten,” Lily pointed out. “The Triari didn't track you with blood, ? They were told where to find you.”

“Perhaps by the same people who planted that handkerchief,” Jason said.

“Planted it for the Bleiten to find,” I whispered. “They're working both sides.”

“Which means—and I hate to it this”—Lily grimaced—“that you were probably right about the Bleiten not taking those women.”

I lifted a brow at her.

“I'm not saying that they're completely innocent,” she amended. “Just innocent of that.”

“And just because there's a third party involved, it doesn't mean that one of the other two parties aren't aware of them,” Jason said.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Leo asked with a baffled look.

“He said that out of the three potential parties involved, two may be working together,” I translated. It's kind of my thing after all. “As it stands, I can see three possible scenarios. The first is that the Triari are trying to start a war and have teamed up with a group of unknowns on Earth.”

“And kill their own people in the process?” Jason scoffed.

“Prince Atren was an unusual Triari,” I mused. “He didn't control his emotions in the way of the Host. That might have made him a few enemies.”

“And they used this as an opportunity to kill him?” Davorin asked.

“And start a war in the process,” I said. “Kill a prince on foreign soil in a heinous way, blame it on your enemies, and win the sympathy of the foreigners; not only would you get your war, you'd also get allies and a safe place to have the battle.”

“Devious,” Leo whispered.

“If it's true,” I said. “The second option is; the Bleiten have used these unknown supernaturals to lure the Triari to Earth while they simultaneously lure me away from them. I can't work out the women, though. Why abduct all those women and make themselves look guilty?”

“And if the Bleiten were working with the bank robbers, why would the robbers

need to plant that bloody handkerchief?” Lily asked. “No; I think they're being led. Again; that doesn't make them the good guys, just the dumb asses who have been tricked.”

“They wouldn't be the only ones,” Jason pointed out. “We're in a van on the way to Maryland, and we don't even know who we're running from.”

“The Triari,” Davorin said. “That's who we're running from, and it sounds as if that's who is behind this.”

“I meant that we're not sure of everyone we're running from,” Jason amended.

“And there's one more scenario, Davorin,” I said. “Number three; this unknown party—most likely the bank robbers—is playing everyone. Their motives are unclear, but it seems to me that their goal is a Triari/Bleiten war on Earth.”

“Maybe you should speak to that Bleiten again,” Leo mused.

Lily and Jason stared at him in horror, but I nodded, and even Davorin looked thoughtful.

“The enemy of my enemy,” I murmured.

“We're here,” Davorin said as he pulled down a private lane.

A grand, white house came into view, though not as grand as the white house I often worked in. The fields around it were a bit overgrown, but the house itself looked to be in good repair. It was two-stories and sprawling; a cross between a modern farmhouse and a colonial. In the center of the roof, a red-brick chimney rose up proudly, and the front door was crowned by a carved, peaked arch.

“This is your small house?” Jason asked in shock. “Dude; I've seen your apartment; that's small. This is palatial. Why live there when you could live here?”

“This is for after I settle down,” Davorin said with a shy look my way. “It's a house for a family, not a single man.”

“I'd live in it by myself,” Lily said as she jumped out of the van. “Yep; no problem.”

“Well, it will be a good hideout,” Davorin said as he fished out a set of keys and headed toward the front door. “No one knows that I have this place, and the only person that comes out here is a guy I hired to maintain the property.”

“You didn't spring for a gardener?” Jason teased him.

“Why am I going to cut the grass when I'm not here to appreciate it?” Davorin asked. “And the neighbors are too far away to give a shit. As long as the house is kept in good shape, that's all I care about.”

“Fair enough,” I murmured as I followed Davorin inside. “And your maintenance man has done a good job; it's lovely.”

“Thanks.” Davorin waved us all in but then stood in the doorway. “I'll need to run into town to grab some supplies; any requests?”

The others rattled off things they wanted, but when Dav looked at me, I only said one word.

“Wine.”

“What kind?” He asked.

“Wine,” I repeated.

“You got it, Spectra.” Davorin chuckled as he headed out. Then he stopped and looked back over his shoulder to say, “Don't do anything drastic while I'm gone; like teaming up with Bleiten. We can talk about that shit when I get back.”

“It's not as if I have his cell number, Davorin.” I rolled my eyes.

“Hey, I'm just covering all bases,” he said. “The last time I left you, you wound up in an exploding lab.”

“Fair enough.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Davorin was only gone an hour, but it was long enough for the Triari to find us.

They took us completely unaware; we were still settling in and finding rooms to bunk in. No one suspected that we had been followed, or that the Triari might have advanced ways of tracking people. So, we hadn't thought to post a watch. Not that it would have mattered if we had. They sent a team of thirty soldiers to fetch me. I guess I should have felt flattered, but all I felt was humiliated.

They rushed in and had us all restrained within seconds. Either they had known about our abilities or it was standard procedure to bind, gag, and blindfold prisoners, but it did the trick. Maestro couldn't speak, Tempest couldn't bluster, and I couldn't manipulate colors. Veritas didn't have an aggressive talent, but he still put up a fight; it took three guys to hold Jason down while he was tied up.

And that was the last thing I saw for a long while. I was picked up and loaded into a vehicle, and then I was transported to a Triari spaceship. I may have been blind, but I could figure out what the strange sensation of moving without moving was all about. It was also much cooler on the ship, and the soldier's footsteps made echoing taps that implied a metal floor before they changed to the crisper smacking of something less resonant. I was taken straight into a room and my ties were loosened. Then I heard my escorts leave; concluded by the whooshing of an automatic door.

I yanked off my hood and then removed the gag as I looked around anxiously. I was in a sterile room; all white and glass. The glass was only a small near the top of the door, but the white was everything else; including the twin-sized

bed that seemed to flow out of the wall. It felt very institutional and medical while also looking alien. There wasn't a single piece of metal in sight; no door hinges, no window frame, not even a screw on the odd, plastic-like bed frame. I set the bindings on the bed beside me and just waited. I wasn't going to embarrass myself by trying to escape or shouting to be set free; I knew I had no chance of that. I only hoped that the gang was all right.

“Amara?” A female face filled the window.

I stared at her warily.

“My name is Dr. Jeckeel,” she said. “I'm going to be looking after you.”

“Your name is Dr. Jeckeel?” I asked with a huffing laugh.

“Yes.” She frowned at me in confusion.

“That sounds a lot like another doctor; a famous literary one,” I pointed out.

She stared at me blankly.

“No idea? Really?” I sighed. “Well, I suppose it's better than Dr. Frankenstein.”

“Is he a famous Jewish physician?” She asked with interest.

“Jewish?”

“Isn't 'stein' a common Jewish surname?” She asked.

I blinked in surprise. “Huh; that never occurred to me. But no, Dr. Frankenstein is not Jewish; he's German.”

“Ah; yes.” She nodded. “I see now. So, Ms. Madison, I'm told that an Arc has made with you and that you might be more comfortable with him here. Would you like for me to wait until Arc Kyrian is present before I begin?”

“Before you begin what?” I asked. “You're going to take my blood, aren't you?”

“Well, yes.”

“That's pretty straightforward,” I pointed out. “I don't think I need that lying traitor here for it.”

“Arc Kyrian is a highly decorated soldier,” Dr. Jeckeel said defensively.

“Who swore to me that you people weren't after my blood,” I snapped. “But

you're just like the Bleiten, only less honest about it.”

“We are not!” She declared. “We want to use your blood to refine the elixir your father created and perhaps make the vaccine it was meant to be.”

“Sure,” I said sweetly. “That's it.”

“It is; I assure you.”

“You people are doing a lot of assuring lately,” I said. “And yet, I don't feel so sure.”

“Please stop referring to us as 'you people,'” Dr. Jeckeel said stiffly. “We are your people, Amara. You are half Triari.”

“My people were the ones your people attacked in Maryland,” I said. “Did the Triari kill my friends?”

“No, of course not,” she huffed. “They were released after you were secured.”

“Secured.” I made an unladylike snort. Then I thought of something. “Why didn't the Triari simply keep a vial of the elixir when my father made it?” I asked as I strode to the door and speared her with my stare.

“What?” She stammered.

“I was told that my father made the elixir and then discovered that it would cure everything; including death,” I said. “Your king decided that this would be a bad thing to give to an entire race, and he had my father destroy the elixir and all of his notes. But if that were the case, why would you be here now; attempting to get the same elixir out of his unwilling daughter? If there were any chance that it could be reworked into the vaccine, wouldn't your king have kept a vial of the elixir, or simply had my father continue to work on the vaccine?”

“I...” Dr. Jeckeel looked to her left and grimaced.

“Amara Madison,” Prince Traegur replaced Dr. Jeckeel at the window. “You're nearly as quick as your father was. Not that I've ever met him, but I've heard tales about his genius.”

“Well, isn't that sweet,” I said. “But flattery will get you nowhere, darling.”

“Someone told you a story about our king asking Jetek to destroy the elixir?” He asked me casually. “Who was that?”

“My foster father,” I said with a narrowed glare. “Are you disputing it?”

“Your real father was a brilliant scientist, but in the end, he was also a traitor,” Traegur said harshly.

“What?” I whispered as my face fell.

Images of my father's smiling face rushed through my mind. I couldn't believe that he would betray his own people. But then again, his people weren't exactly impressing me either. Perhaps my father had a good reason for turning on them.

“Our king did not tell Jetek to destroy the elixir,” Traegur said. “He told Jetek to put aside several vials of it for the elite of our race; those whom the King deemed deserving of eternal life. It was going to be a reward; something for us to strive for and a way to ensure that only the best of us lived on. Then Jetek was to continue using the rest of the elixir to attempt to make the vaccine we were originally after.”

“My father destroyed it all and ran,” I said proudly.

“Yes,” Traegur said stiffly. “Jetek thought he knew better than our king. He burned all of his research and absconded with the elixir.”

“He took the elixir with him?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes,” he said scathingly. “Because as much as Jetek protested that no one should have eternal life, he knew that he would use that elixir. And he did; just not on himself.”

“I don't believe you,” I said. “Landry told me that my father created a new batch of elixir to give to me. Why would he do that if he'd taken one with him?”

“Landry Ash is a liar,” Traegur said firmly.

“No, he's not,” I said even more firmly. “Especially not to me. Which means that you are lying.”

“If Jetek made up a new batch, he must have lost the one he stole, or perhaps it was destroyed.” Traegur shrugged. “But I'm not lying. And the fact of the matter is that you received the elixir; whether or not it was from the original batch has no bearing.”

“Whatever my father did, he did it for the love of his child,” I said. “That's a far cry from making gods out of the rich and powerful.”

“I see the human blood has tainted you, despite your Triari genes and the Amaranthine Elixir tempering it,” Traegur noted. “I don't know why I'm surprised; you are your father's daughter. In the end, he loved humans more than his own people.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And I can see why he preferred humans.”

“But being stubborn will do you no good,” Traegur said as he nodded to someone.

The door opened and two soldiers came into the room. They manhandled my coat from me and then manhandled me into another white-on-white room—this

one much larger than my cell and full of interesting equipment that gave the eye a little break from all that white. Several tables were spread throughout the space; a few of them holding computers instead of lab equipment. I was dragged to a chair with manacles attached to its armrests that was set beside one of the computer tables. I was held down and strapped in, despite my lack of resistance. Then the soldiers stood back against the wall, and Dr. Jeckeel came forward with a thin, metal rod.

“Keep me apprised of your progress, Doctor,” Traegur said to Jeckeel and then strode arrogantly from the room.

“You won't feel a thing,” Dr. Jeckeel promised me. “There won't even be a mark; our medical tools are very advanced.”

“Perfect,” I murmured as I focused on adjusting the colors between us.

When Dr. Jeckeel leaned in to press the end of the rod against my arm, I made it appear as if her arm were mine. Dr. Jeckeel drew her own blood and never noticed because of those very Triari advancements she'd mentioned. Even the soldiers standing against the wall were unaware of the switch.

“See? Nothing to it,” Dr. Jeckeel proclaimed.

“Yes; that was completely painless,” I said with a smile. “Almost as if I hadn't been touched at all.”

“Are you hungry?” Jeckeel asked as she removed a vial of blood from inside the rod. “I can have some dinner brought to you.”

Dr. Jeckeel waved at the soldiers, and they came forward to remove me from the chair.

“Sure; that would be nice,” I said as my manacles were released. “Do you have pear brandy souffle?”

Dr. Jeckeel blinked. “Um, I don't think so.”

“A pity.” I sighed and then said sweetly, “Whatever you have will be fine, I'm sure.”

“After you help Ms. Madison to her room, please fetch a dinner tray for her, Tarn,” Dr. Jeckeel said to one of the soldiers; as if I were a guest in her hotel.

“Yes, Ma'am,” he said crisply.

I could have made a break for it then, but getting off that spaceship might pose a problem. Plus, if the Triari believed that Jeckeel's blood was mine, they'd come to the conclusion that the elixir was long gone. And if it was gone, there was no reason to hold me. So, I let them take me back to the cell, and I went inside without fuss. They locked the door behind me, and I watched through the window as Dr. Jeckeel immediately got to work on testing her own blood.

I pressed my lips together tightly and turned away from the window before I ruined everything by bursting into laughter.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“I don't understand it,” Dr. Jeckeel muttered for the fourth time.

Lying on my narrow bed, I turned on my side and faced the wall to muffle my laughter with the bedding. I was immensely enjoying Jeckeel's frustration; so long as she didn't go Mr. Hyde on me. Or would it be Mr. Hydee? I giggled again, but I smothered it as the door opened and a new pair of grim-faced soldiers walked in.

“More blood?” I asked them. “Is the last batch not working out so well?”

They just came toward me as their answer.

“All right; you don't have to be savages about it,” I said primly as I stood. “I can walk to the chair on my own, darlings.”

The soldiers just stared at me as I ed by them, but they didn't make a grab for my arms. I was allowed to walk to the manacle chair by myself. I pushed up my sleeve and held my arm out obediently, and they didn't even bother to strap me down. Good; I wanted them to believe that I'd given up.

“I'm terribly sorry about this, Ms. Madison,” Dr. Jeckeel said. “But I must have corrupted your sample somehow.”

“It's all right, Dr. Jeckeel,” I said politely. “And please call me Amara.”

“Your disposition has improved, Amara,” she noted in surprise.

“It's amazing what a hot meal will do for a person,” I murmured. “And a little consideration helps as well.” I looked pointedly at the guards.

The soldiers had returned to their posts outside my cell and were making an effort to ignore me. If they had any honor in them, they'd be embarrassed by the way they had been treating me, especially now that I was cooperating. Which was convenient, because while they were focusing anywhere but on me, I pulled the same trick on the poor Dr. Jeckeel that I had earlier. Not that it would matter if they had been watching; the illusion I created was so perfect that even I couldn't tell that Dr. Jeckeel's arm was the one being touched by the rod.

Once again, Dr. Jeckeel took her own blood, and no one noticed. She immediately removed the vial and set it in a nearby machine; taking no chances with it. After a few buttons were pushed and a whirring noise started, Jeckeel took a seat in front of a set of three computer screens and started to get to work.

“Thank you, Amara,” Dr. Jeckeel said absently as she waved to the soldiers.

The men started to come forward, but I got up and walked into the open cell on my own. They shrugged at each other and locked me in. I'm sure they were wondering why so much security was necessary for such a docile prisoner.

I loved to keep men wondering.

I listened to Dr. Jeckeel mutter and whine for a bit, and then I went to sleep. The doctor might be in for a long night, but I had no intentions of ing her. Unfortunately, my sleep was fitful at best, but I took whatever rest I could find; I knew I'd need it.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I woke up to angry shouting. From the sounds of it, things weren't going well for Dr. Jeckeel. I tip-toed to the door and stood near a crack to eavesdrop. They were speaking in Triari, but that—of course—wasn't a problem for me.

“What do you mean?” Traegur growled.

“The elixir must have completely melded with her bone marrow, Prince Traegur,” Dr. Jeckeel whimpered. “There's nothing I can do to extract it. Honestly, I can't even find it.”

“What do you mean; you can't find it?” He snarled. “You told me that Jetek's elixir would have to alter stem cells in order to work; that the stem cells would then produce white blood cells imbued with the elixir.”

“Yes, and I stand by that theory. White blood cells are what fight off infections and heal the body; they have to be the carrier. But, I've tested her white blood cells, platelets, red blood cells, and even her plasma,” Dr. Jeckeel said. “There is no trace of the elixir in her at all.”

“So, there's no way to replicate it?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“How certain are you?”

“Absolutely certain,” she said softly. “I've run every test I can think of. There is nothing abnormal in her blood, Prince Traegur. Dr. Elyonne was very talented; it seems that he created a vaccine that once istered, leaves no trace.”

“Can her blood be used as it is?” He asked. “Can we do a transfusion or something of that nature?”

“That might work if you had a body made for processing blood as a healing agent,” she sank back into her doctor voice. “Such as an Ungaru or a Bleiten.”

“Bleiten don't drink blood,” Traegur scoffed. “They only spill it.”

“Oh, but they do, Prince Traegur,” she assured him. “They don't need it to survive—as the Ungaru do—but they can use it to heal themselves when they're badly injured. I learned all about it from Dr. Whellen, who has worked with Bleiten prisoners extensively—”

“No one likes a smart-ass, Dr. Jeckeel,” Traegur cut off Jeckeel crisply.

“Yes, Sir,” she muttered.

“So, you're saying that because of our genetic makeup, we can't use the very elixir that was created for us?” Traegur tried one last time.

“Yes; that's what I'm saying,” she confirmed.

“Algis!” Traegur shouted.

“Yes, Prince Traegur!” A male voice answered.

“Take Dr. Jeckeel to a holding cell,” Traegur ordered.

“What?” Jeckeel screeched. “Why?”

“You're obviously not invested enough in my project,” Traegur said. “Or you're not talented enough. I'll find someone else to work on the elixir.”

“Please!” Jeckeel screamed. “There's nothing that can be done; I swear it. The elixir has become a part of her! Please!”

Jeckeel's begging faded as she was taken away. I heard Traegur start to move closer to the door, and I hurried back to the bed. I laid out and closed my eyes as if I were sleeping. I heard Traegur approach the door, but he didn't enter; just stood there for awhile before he left.

I began to smile.

“Good for you, you lying bastards,” I whispered.

And then I frowned as I began to wonder what would have happened if Malik had bitten me that night at Flamethrower's. Would he have discovered that one bite was all it would take to become immortal? It was a sobering thought. Once I got away from the Triari, I'd have to do everything in my power to make sure that the Bleiten never learned of that possibility, or I'd become a demon chew toy.

And how ironic would it be if the only people who could use the elixir were the enemies of those who created it?

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Where is she?!” I recognized the voice but not the tone. It was far too angry— too emotional—to be Kyrian.

I went to the window, peered out, and blinked in shock. There he was; his blond hair in disarray and his indigo eyes flashing like faceted sapphires. His aura was spiked with bright red blotches of anger, thick streaks of loyal blue, and pulsing neon yellow flares of panic. Kyrian was deeply upset and the way the red blotches were growing and darkening into a more muddy red, indicated that he was on the verge of an emotional explosion.

“Arc Kyrian!” Dr. Hadeen—Dr. Jeckeel's replacement—declared in startled fright. “Who are you looking for?”

Dr. Hadeen was a man, and when he showed up that morning, I had worried that my illusion trick might not work with him. Not that he would see through the colors, but that he might discover in his tests that the blood he had drawn belonged to a man. But Dr. Hadeen wasn't testing to determine sex. No; he was too focused on finding the Amaranthine Elixir to notice that he didn't actually have my blood.

And now, he was too focused on Kyrian to notice Prince Traegur's arrival.

“Amara Madison,” Kyrian snarled. “My ward. I'm tasked with protecting her, but a team brought her here without my consent. So, where is she?”

“She's right here,” Traegur waved at hand toward my face in the door's window.

I waggled my fingers at Kyrian, and he gaped at me.

“What have you done to her?” Kyrian rushed forward but Traegur stepped between us.

“We've only taken some vials of blood,” Traegur said. “Amara hasn't been harmed. Now, stand down, Arc Kyrian. I've taken over this mission.”

“No one has notified me of that, Prince Traegur,” Kyrian said. “And until my king—who put me on this mission personally—orders me to stand down, I will do no such thing.”

“Be careful, Arc Kyrian,” Prince Traegur said in a deadly tone. “At the moment, I'm inclined to be kind to our guest, but if you rile me, I may just have to take out my irritation on her.”

I narrowed my eyes on Traegur, and then looked back at Kyrian and subtly shook my head. He wasn't doing me any favors by throwing a tantrum and then getting thrown off the ship.

“Calm down,” I mouthed at him.

Kyrian took a deep breath, and his aura started to brighten into white. When it was its usual halo self again, Kyrian nodded to me and then narrowed his gaze at Traegur.

“If you hurt her, Prince Traegur, I will have you brought before the King to answer to the charge of inciting an intergalactic incident and interfering with a royal mission,” Kyrian said in his normal, controlled voice—which was far more frightening than his furious tones had been. “You know how important she is to His Majesty.”

Traegur went still and silent, but he also nodded crisply.

Kyrian gave me one last, long look and then strode out of the room. I glanced back at Traegur and found him staring at me in an unsettling way. There was something very wrong with that man, and I had no desire to discover what it was.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Three more days went by with a new doctor appearing every morning. Over and over, they came up with the same conclusion that Dr. Jeckel had; my blood was useless to them.

Traegur didn't want to accept that, but after he'd gone through every available scientist on all fifteen battleships (he had arrived on the fifteenth—the same ship I was being held on), he had no choice. Prince Traegur came into my cell on my fourth day there with a grim and furious look on his face. I was surprised to see so much emotion in his expression, but I was downright shocked to see Traegur's aura.

Auras shift with a person's feelings, but everyone has a baseline that's unique to them; a stable background of personality on which emotional colors can be painted. I don't most people's baselines; that would be nearly impossible, even for me. But there are a few that I'll never forget; Landry's and Mama's were on that short list, and my parents', of course. But then there were the auras that haunted my nightmares; the colors I'd seen the day my parents had been murdered. They had been burned into my memory along with the fire that had destroyed my happy life.

“You,” I whispered. “You are a liar.”

“Whatever do you mean, Amara?” Traegur smiled viciously.

“You said that you'd never met my father.” I was surprised at how calm I

sounded; inside, I was both terrified and furious. “But you did meet him. In fact, you killed him.”

Traegur blinked in surprise; the furious red in his aura dampening for a moment under the pea-soup color of confusion. But the streak of pure black stayed strong, and it suddenly burst through the other colors to show the extent of its taint. And there it was; the aura that had become a monster in my mind. I knew every angle of that evil; every swirl and nuance. I had seen it clearly when I'd squinted through the cracks between the cabinet doors. It had enveloped my father's brilliant blue and extinguished it forever.

“How did you...” Traegur cleared his throat. “I didn't meet him; I was sent to assassinate the traitor. Unfortunately, we weren't aware that he'd given the last of the elixir to his daughter.”

“Here I was blaming the Bleiten for my parents' deaths,” I whispered, “when all along, it was my father's own people. Do you have to let go of your Triari control to commit murder?”

“No, but it allows me to savor the experience.” He smiled wickedly. “I don't know how you found out about the execution, but since you know things that you shouldn't, and you're of no further use to me, I might as well find some other satisfaction with you. I'll tell the King I released you; he'll never be able to prove otherwise without your body as evidence.”

Traegur reached for me, but as he did, I blasted him with cowardly yellow. He grunted and bent over, but there was too much evil in him to be stopped by a little fear. Traegur lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at me menacingly. I was about to go invisible when someone barreled into Traegur from behind.

I jumped out of the way as the tumbling knot of muscled bodies went rolling past me. Traegur's platinum blond hair was a bright spot against the deep black of his assailant's, and his body—though, large—looked slender when compared to the Bleiten's.

Malik. The Bleiten Lord was rolling around on the floor of my cell with the Triari Prince.

“Amara!” Davorin hissed from the doorway. “Come on, sweetheart, let's get you out of here.”

“How... ?” I whispered and then realized that it was stupid to ask for answers now. Get off the Triari battleship and then question how they were able to rescue you, Amara.

I ran for the door just as Malik slammed his fist into Traegur's face. Except Malik's fist was shifted into a clawed talon, and it shredded the Prince's beautiful skin. Traegur would have likely screamed; had he been conscious long enough to feel the pain.

“You fucking piece of Triari trash,” Malik growled at Traegur as he kicked him in the stomach; sending Traegur flying into the wall. “She's one of yours!” Another kick; this one had the wall to brace it. “And a woman! A beautiful, amazing, intelligent creature who is far too good for the likes of you!” He bent over, picked up Traegur, lifted the Triari over his head, and then tossed him into the wall on the other side of the room. “You treasure women like her; you don't abuse them, you feathered asshole!”

“Malik,” I whispered in stunned amazement.

Malik looked up at me, and we both froze. It was one of those moments that you see in films; the ones you know never happen in real life. Not only did it happen; it sent shivers racing through my entire body and made my mouth go dry. Malik was covered in Triari blood—his chest heaving with jagged breaths and fury— but his eyes shifted into something soft and beautiful when he focused on me. And then Malik held his hand out to me, and as he did, it shifted as well; back into something more human and slightly less dangerous. I took it without hesitation, and we rushed out of the room together.

Davorin gave our ed hands an angry, shocked look, but he didn't say anything. Since he was standing among Malik's soldiers, that was probably a wise decision. But then I spotted Kyrian, and I tensed.

“He's with us,” Malik said when he saw my stare.

“What?” I gaped at Kyrian.

“Amara, I'm so sorry,” Kyrian whispered.

“Not now,” Malik growled and gestured toward Kyrian. “Lead us out of here, Arc.”

“Yes, now,” Kyrian snapped as he hurried over to me.

Kyrian scratched at the upper back of my dress as I watched his hand warily. He pulled it away to reveal a glistening dot on his finger; it almost looked like a water drop. He flicked it away with a grimace.

“I tagged you in The Wilds,” Kyrian said. “I didn't know Traegur would use it to find you himself.”

“You son of a bitch,” Davorin snarled. “That's how they found us?”

“I said; not now!” Malik growled at both of the men. “We need to get her off this ship.”

Kyrian nodded as he led us out into the hallway with outwardly curving walls; he went to a on one of those walls and slid his finger down its edge. The wall slid open, and we scurried into a hidden corridor. We followed Kyrian through dimly lit ages; in a maze of twists and turns. Finally, he paused and laid his ear against the wall. Kyrian looked back at us and nodded.

Despite Kyrian's assurance, everyone prepared to defend themselves; including me. I focused on the , and when Kyrian moved it aside, I instantly scanned the room beyond it. But it wasn't just a room; it was a docking bay. It didn't appear to be a large one; there were just three small spacecraft docked in the bay, and no one was manning the room. Kyrian had chosen the perfect place to park our getaway spaceship.

Kyrian hustled us onto one of the crafts and then went straight into the pilot's

seat. As everyone got strapped in, Malik saw to my harness first.

“I can get it,” I murmured as I laid a hand over his.

“Just let me do this; I need to see to your safety,” Malik said with another intense glance. “It's been four days, Amara. I...” He shook his head.

“What?”

The spacecraft shifted, and Malik fell into the seat beside mine. He glared at Kyrian, but the Arc didn't see it. Or if Kyrian did notice, he ignored it. Malik strapped himself into his seat as the craft quietly rolled to the end of the docking bay. Lights pulsed in a line outside the windows and a low vibration began. The spacecraft engines started to rev up as we came to a stop. An enormous door opened before us to reveal the star-riddled darkness of space, and then we were launched into it.

At first, we were all thrown back into our seats, but then the craft settled into a speed and evened out. I let out my breath and relaxed back into my seat. I was safe, and I had been rescued by three men who hated each other. I was looking forward to hearing that story.

“I was worried about you,” Malik said as he took my hand. “I can't the last time that I worried about anything.”

“You can stop with the seduction routine, Malik,” I said as I removed my hand

from his. “The Triari took my blood and all of their horses and all of their men couldn't put the elixir back together again.”

“What do horses have to do with it?” He frowned at me.

“The Triari scientists have been testing my blood for four days now and they've all reached the same conclusion; it's useless to anyone but myself,” I said smugly.

My words were true, although it wasn't the entire truth. But I was hoping that Malik would buy it, and then I could get both the Triari and the Bleiten off my back for good.

“What did you say?” Kyrian asked in shock as he glanced back at me.

“That's why Traegur was in the process of assaulting me.” I grimaced. “Since he couldn't get the elixir out of me, he was intent on having another type of satisfaction.”

“That piece of angel shit,” Malik growled as he clenched his hands into fists.

“Yes,” I agreed. “But my point is; there's no reason to chase me anymore. Sorry, gentlemen; I hope that doesn't ruin the reason for my rescue.”

“I just rescued you from my own people, Amara,” Kyrian snapped as he angled

the ship down and navigated us back to Earth. “I didn't do it because I wanted your blood for myself.”

“Why did you do it?” I asked softly; the memory of Kyrian's combustible aura filling my head.

“I was given a mission to protect you.” Kyrian kept his gaze firmly on Earth. “I've never failed a mission.”

“And you know how I feel about you.” Davorin smiled softly at me. “The only concerns I have for your blood is that it stays in your body. Plus, I told Landry I'd keep you safe, and then I didn't. I had to get you home or he was going to turn me into fertilizer.”

I smiled at that; at least two of them had come to save me and not the elixir. The Bleiten, however, were grimly eyeing their leader. I was wondering if I'd just gone from a spaceship frying pan and into a Bleiten fire when Malik started laughing. I looked at him in shock, but he was staring at his men.

“That settles it,” Malik said to the other Bleiten. “The mission is complete.”

“You don't seem upset,” I noted.

In fact, Malik's aura was brightening into delighted shades of sunshine yellow. This was not the response I'd been expecting.

“I didn't want your blood either, Amara,” Malik itted. “I was the one who negotiated with my king to be able to offer you something in exchange for it. But if it's worthless, then we have no reason to pursue you. At least, no military reason. I have some personal ones that I'm free to act on now.”

“She's already spoken for,” Davorin growled.

“Is she, now?” Malik asked skeptically.

“No; I'm not,” I said to Davorin with irritation. “'Spoken for' implies that we're a couple when, in actuality, we haven't even been on a date yet. Regardless, this is a private matter that I don't feel like discussing in front of present company. And there are far more important things to talk about. Such as Lily, Jason, and Leo; are they all right?”

“They're fine,” Davorin said crisply. “I came back to find them trussed up like pigs. They were embarrassed but alive.” Then he let out an annoyed breath. “Amara, you can't deny that we have something.”

“Excuse me, but I think I far sured both the rock-man and the demon in the romantic gestures category,” Kyrian pointed out. “No one is making any claim on Amara until I have some time to talk privately with her.”

I gaped at Kyrian in shock.

“We aren't demons!” One of the Bleiten snarled before I could reply.

“Sure; we see that,” Davorin said sarcastically. “Angels who aren't so angelic, and demons who aren't demonic. Neither of you are good for Amara.”

“That's quite enough, gentlemen,” I said sternly. “I'm deeply grateful for your timely rescue, but if you think it's given any of you some kind of caveman claim to me, you're sorely mistaken.”

Kyrian, Davorin, and Malik grimaced in awkward discomfort.

“But what I would like to know is how this happened?” I waved a hand to indicate the men in general. “How all of you decided to work together.”

“Kyrian was at The Wilds when the crew and I returned from Maryland,” Davorin said. “He was telling Landry that he was going to go up on that Triari ship and find you.”

“Which I did,” Kyrian said. “But Traegur wouldn't budge, and you told me to back down.”

“Yes; I recall,” I murmured.

“I returned to the bar because I knew if I was going to rescue you, I'd need help. We were lucky, but things could have gone poorly up there, and I knew I'd only have one chance to save you,” Kyrian said. “I had planned on asking Davorin and his friends to me, but then I found Davorin outside The Wilds with the

Bleiten.”

I looked at Davorin in surprise.

“I needed someone with a spaceship,” Davorin said with a grimace. “I was desperate, and the crew reminded me about our conversation; how the Bleiten looked the least guilty. I thought what better way for them to prove that they had good intentions toward you than by rescuing you. Plus, I figured that the best people to take to fight Triari would be Bleiten.”

“I walked into the middle of that conversation,” Kyrian said with a pained tone. “And I, too, was desperate.”

“Desperate times,” I looked around at the motley collection of my rescuers and shook my head. “These are desperate measures indeed.”

“We agreed to a truce,” Malik said. “For you.”

“Why didn't Lily, Jason, and Leo come with you?” I asked as I looked away from Malik's ardent stare.

“It was already a big group.” Davorin waved a hand at the Bleiten. “I told them to stay behind.”

“You mean that you didn't trust either Kyrian or Malik completely, and you

didn't want to risk them as well as yourself,” I concluded.

Davorin grinned and shrugged.

“Lord Malik, are you simply going to take her word for it?” One of the other Bleiten asked. “Should we not collect her blood anyway?”

“You think that I should give Amara the riches I promised her for a vial of her blood, even though she's just confessed that it's worthless?” Malik asked his soldier with lifted brows.

“Um....”

The guy was obviously a soldier for a reason. I grimaced at him and shook my head at Malik.

“If it eases your mind, I will speak to our king and let him decide,” Malik said.

“Thank you, it would.”

“Do you hear this bullshit, Amara?” Davorin huffed. “These are the bastards who killed your parents, you can't seriously be thinking of getting involved with one of them.”

“We did not kill her parents,” Malik snarled at Davorin.

“Yeah, right.” Davorin glared back.

“Actually, he is right, Dav,” I said softly.

Both of the men swiveled their heads to face me in surprise.

“Landry was wrong,” I went on. “The Triari killed my parents. Traegur was one of the assassins.”

“The Triari did not kill your parents, Amara!” Kyrian shouted in horror.

We all looked at him blankly.

“Did we?” Kyrian whispered in horror as he deflated.

“I heard it from Traegur himself, Kyrian,” I said gently. “The King wanted to keep the elixir for the elite, but my father disagreed. He stole the elixir and ran, and the Triari labeled him a traitor. They sent assassins after him and then burned our house to make it look like a Bleiten attack.” I looked at Malik and shook my head. “How many times has that happened to your people?”

“How many times have the Triari put the blame for their dirty deeds on us?” Malik clarified.

I nodded, and Malik snorted scornfully. The other Bleiten made similar sounds of derision.

“That many?” I asked in indignation.

“Bullshit,” Kyrian said, but it was without his earlier fervency.

“Don't tell us that you've never suspected it was your people demolishing cities and slaughtering babies in their cribs?” Malik snarled. “You had to have known something, even if you weren't one of those who committed the atrocities— which I find very hard to believe, Arc.”

“I have never killed children!” Kyrian swore.

“But you demolished cities?” I asked in a soft, stunned voice.

“The things I've done, I've done for the greater good and for my people,” Kyrian protested. “Sometimes cities must be leveled to make way for something greater.”

Malik laughed scathingly. “All you Arcs are the same; brainwashed into believing that you're just like the human myths portray you. Well, guess what,

moron? Those myths talk about angels massacring people too.”

“And we know what they say about demons,” Kyrian shot back.

“Yeah, but those happen to be lies,” one of Malik's men said. “And you know it.”

“Malik, are your people planning to come to Earth to fight the Triari?” I asked in a soft, serious tone.

Malik looked at me, and his aura shifted into an honest, sapphire blue. “No, Amara; we're not. I swear to you that the Bleiten make war only when we have no other choice. We do not seek it out.”

“All right,” I said. “I believe you.”

Kyrian went silent, and so did I. It felt as if my world had suddenly turned over. What had been up was now down. I looked at Malik and saw an angel instead of a devil while the emotionless Kyrian had become a desperate romantic. Then I glanced at Davorin and everything righted. Dav was just as he had been four days ago; a hero with an innocent heart. Did I want a relationship with him? I didn't know yet. I didn't know what I wanted from any of them but damn if it wasn't nice to have options. And truth; knowing the truth felt like the first step to putting my life back in order.

I had found the truth about my past, and now, I needed to see the truth in these men so I could make a decision about my future.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Landry dove behind the bar for his blaster as soon as the Bleiten entered the bar behind me.

“Stop!” I shouted as everyone in the bar surged to their feet to fight off the Bleiten invasion... or possibly flee.

Everyone went still except for Landry; he stood up and leveled his gun at Malik.

“They're not who people believe them to be,” I said calmly. “Landry, they just rescued me.”

“What?” The gun lowered.

“We're not entirely good,” Malik said with a smirk. “But we're not the demons we've been portrayed as either. Most of the vile acts attributed to my kind were actually perpetrated by the Triari.”

Landry narrowed his eyes at Malik.

“The Triari killed my parents, Land,” I said evenly. “I saw proof of it and heard confirmation from one of the assassins.”

“Who was this assassin?” Landry growled. “And you had better tell me that he's dead.”

I grimaced. “Prince Traegur. I'm sorry; I should have killed him, but we were in a bit of a hurry to get off the battleship.”

“You're serious,” Landry said in shock.

“Even I have to it that it's likely,” Kyrian added.

“You?” Landry gaped at Kyrian. “You said you were here to protect her!”

“I am,” Kyrian said firmly. “I was charged by my king to guard Amara, and that's exactly what I'll do; even if I have to protect her from my fellow Triari.”

“Are you saying that you helped a bunch of Bleiten rescue my daughter from a Triari battleship?” Landry asked blandly.

“Yes.”

“And so did Davorin,” I added.

“This is the strangest day that I've ever had,” Landry murmured. Then he saw how everyone in the bar was still standing; unsure whether to attack or run. “Sit down, folks. It seems that we may have been mistaken about the Bleiten.”

“No offense, Landry,” a patron said as he walked by; giving the Bleiten wary looks, “but I'll wait for some hard evidence before I drink in the same bar as one of them.”

A few more people muttered in agreement and left, but most of the others simply sat down and started to sip at their drinks as they stared at the Bleiten. I'm not sure if they believed that the Bleiten were Triari scapegoats, or if they were just too scared to dispute the Bleiten, Landry, or myself, but I was glad for their show of —as tremulous as it may be. It made both the Bleiten and Landry relax.

“All of you sit down too.” Landry waved at an empty table near the bar that he reserved for his personal use. “We need to talk.”

We crowded around the table, and Landry brought over a bottle of Penbruth and several shot glasses. He set everything in the center of the table and then pulled my cell phone out of his pocket. Landry slid the phone to me, and I checked it automatically; I had five messages from President Colton:

We found the leak—not one of mine. Prince Traegur has refused to leave Earth.

Amara? Text me back immediately. Prince Traegur is MIA.

We found the man who took your picture; it was one of the bank robbers who we've had under surveillance but he vanished before we could pick him up. All of them vanished.

I'm getting worried; please respond ASAP. Those men are still out there, and I still haven't seen Traegur.

And finally; Amara, if you don't text me back, I'm sending the Secret Service after you. Yes; all of them.

I chuckled a little at the last text and immediately sent Colton a message explaining my silence. My phone was ringing just seconds later.

“I'm sorry, Landry, I have to take this,” I said. Then I answered, “Hello, Mr. President.”

After explaining my absence and the high probability that the Bleiten were not our enemy nor were they about to wage a war on Earth, I warned the President to be careful of any interaction he had with the Triari. Then I promised to call him back when I had more information for him.

“I'm glad you're safe, Amara,” President Colton said. “But now that you're no longer wanted for your blood, perhaps you should stay out of this.”

“No offense, Mr. President, but I'm too far into this to get out now.”

“At least be more careful,” he said. “If the Bleiten rescued you and aren't behind the bank robbery, then we have an unknown enemy on the loose.”

“Yes, Mr. President, that has occurred to me,” I said. “I'm going to discuss it with the Bleiten Lord.”

“Let me know if he gives you any answers,” Colton said. “And don't trust any of them just yet, Amara. The way this has all played out has left me very jumpy. I'm going to call another meeting with the t Chiefs of Staff and tell them that it appears we've had a false alarm but to keep vigilant. I suggest you stay vigilant as well.”

“Understood, Mr. President.” I hung up and looked at Malik. “What do you know about a bunch of bank robbers speaking Bleiten?”

“What nonsense is this now?” Malik shook his head at me in amazement.

“Several days ago, the Wells Fargo Bank was robbed by a group of supernaturals —evidently not Bleiten—who spoke Bleiten,” I said. “They took a safe deposit box with Dr. Samuel Devlin's notes inside.”

“And?” Malik still looked confused.

“The name means nothing to you?” Kyrian asked with narrowed eyes.

“Devlin?” Malik asked. “I've never heard it before.” He looked at his soldiers. “Any of you know the man?”

They all shook their heads, and I exchanged a grim look with Kyrian.

“The Triari can't be behind this,” Kyrian said. “There's no way that our king would sanction the murder of a prince. If nothing else, I'm certain of that.”

“Murder?” Malik asked. “Is that what we're being framed for this time?”

I could hear the weariness in his voice, but more importantly, I could see it in his aura. Malik was tired of this routine and damn pissed that people kept buying it. I looked over the other Bleiten and saw the same bitter annoyance on their faces and in their auras.

“The killings at the hotel,” I said. “You really had no part in them?”

“Look”—Malik sighed deeply—“I'm not saying that I wouldn't relish killing a group of Triari, but I didn't kill those particular men and neither did any of my team. We are here for one reason only; to find you. As I told you earlier; we don't go looking for war. We were after eternal life; isn't that enough of a reason for us to be here?”

“But why?” I asked. “Why come looking for me now?”

“Someone tipped us off,” Malik said. “We received a message that the Amaranthine Elixir had survived in Dr. Elyonne's daughter.”

Malik pulled out a slim, rectangular device and hit a few buttons on it. A picture of me popped up above the screen; the same image that had been sent to the Triari.

“That's the same picture that was sent to us,” Kyrian confirmed it by bringing out his communication device and calling up the picture.

Malik scowled as he stared at the two holograms, and then he reached into his coat pocket. “We were also sent this.”

Malik pulled out a stained cloth and handed it to me. It was the other half of the bloody handkerchief Landry had found at my old home. I handed it to Landry, and he looked it over before he cursed with enough creativity to make my ears redden.

“You had my blood all along,” I said to Malik in a whisper.

“Not enough to make the elixir,” Malik said. “Only to track you.”

“You really didn't know where my family and I had lived?” I asked him.

“No, of course not,” Malik said. “We never knew that your father left the Triari

at all. If we had, we would have offered him asylum. A man like him is worth far more to us alive than dead.”

“And the Triari knew that,” Landry growled before he started cursing again. “They killed Jetek to make sure he didn't go to the Bleiten.”

“This is the other half of that handkerchief, Landry,” I said calmly.

“I know,” he growled. “Why do you think I'm swearing, kid?”

“No; I mean that we thought there might be more pieces, but there aren't,” I explained. “There were two pieces; one at my old home and one in Malik's possession. So, how was the Bleiten lured to the Willard Hotel?”

“The Ungaru tracker swore that he caught your scent there,” Malik said. “But I didn't need to track you at that point; I already knew who you were and where to find you. And I knew you weren't at the hotel; I had seen you entering Davorin's apartment myself. But the tracker insisted that you had been at The Willard at some point and that you had bled while there. I was curious, and so I sent one man to investigate.” He nodded to one of the Bleiten; it was the man I'd seen on the hotel security footage. “Hendler. He reported that you weren't at the hotel but there were numerous dead Triari there; including a prince.”

“It was baffling,” Hendler took over. “I eavesdropped on the secret service agents and overheard them saying that it was some kind of chemical attack.”

“That's not our style,” Malik said.

“Wait a second.” I frowned as I took a good look at the Bleiten. “Is this all of your team?”

“Yes,” Malik said in a curious tone.

“Just before I reached Davorin's apartment, I was attacked by a Bleiten,” I said. “But he's not any of these men.”

“He wasn't a Bleiten at all,” Malik said. “I saw the attack you're referring to. I was about to step in and help you when you handled it yourself.” He grinned in approval. “That was nicely done, Amara. I had a good laugh over it.”

“Thank you,” I said distractedly. “But, what do you mean; he wasn't a Bleiten? I looked right into his eyes; he had Bleiten features and a Bleiten build.”

“He was too far away for me to see his features when he attacked you,” Malik said. “He did have the size to be one of our kind, but I assure you, he's not a Bleiten. I sent Everin after the man while I personally made sure that you reached your destination safely. Tell them what you saw, Everin.”

“As soon as your attacker made it into a crowd of people, he seemed to disappear,” Everin reported. “I determined that he was either a shapeshifter or possessed the ability to make himself invisible. With the crowd sheltering him, I couldn't even track his body heat.”

“A shapeshifter would explain how you saw a Bleiten that wasn't a Bleiten,” Malik pointed out.

“A shapeshifter,” I whispered. “That would also explain why those women swore that they had been abducted by a bleiten.”

“Are you talking about the women with purple eyes again?” Malik asked.

“That's right,” I confirmed. “Whoever is behind the abductions is trying to pin all of this on your people.”

“Tricky bastards,” Davorin huffed. “They nearly got away with it too.”

“But I'd know that shapeshifter if I saw him again,” I said. “There was evil in his aura.”

“You can see auras?” Malik asked with interest.

“She can see a lot of things,” Landry said with a warning tone. “Amara isn't a girl you can easily deceive.”

“Fascinating,” Malik murmured as he smiled slowly at me.

“Let's get back to the situation at the hotel,” Landry said. “If Amara didn't bleed there, how did her blood get there? Are you sure that you didn't cut yourself when you escaped, kid?”

“Positive,” I said immediately. “Someone had to have planted my blood. But who would have it?”

“That fucker that bumped into you!” Davorin shouted.

Everyone in the bar looked over at us.

“Let's not share this with the entire Supermarket, Davorin,” Kyrian said dryly.

“Sorry,” Davorin muttered.

“You're right,” I said to Dav. “It had to be the man who bumped into me.”

“That was right before the attack on the Triari,” Landry said with a nod. “Makes sense.”

“And President Colton just told me that they found one of the bank robbers on the White House CCTV footage,” I added. “He's convinced that it was this man who took my picture; the image that was sent to the Triari and the Bleiten.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Davorin growled.

“I wish I knew,” I said with a pensive frown. “Those bank robbers are obviously behind everything; the arrival of both the Triari and the Bleiten, the abductions, the Triari murders, and the reports of a Bleiten-Triari war. They must have known that their apartments were bugged, and they used it to feed us those lies.”

“This is a group of master manipulators,” Landry noted. “But the question is; what's their end game? What are they trying to manipulate us into doing?”

“Homeland Security has a couple of the men under surveillance,” Kyrian said. “We need to have them arrested and interrogated.”

“About that,” I said with a grimace. “It seems that they've vanished.”

“Vanished?” Kyrian asked with narrowed eyes.

“After Homeland Security discovered one of them on White House CCTV, they went to pick him up,” I explained. “But they disappeared.”

“Of course they disappeared,” Malik said. “They completed their mission; feeding you lies .”

“It appears so,” I agreed.

“There has to be another way to find them,” Davorin said.

“One of them had a very unique ability,” I reminded him. “It's harder to blend in when you drip toxic goo.”

“One of them drips toxic goo?” Malik made a horrified face. “That's disturbing.”

“Says the demon,” Dav huffed.

“We're not demons!” The same Bleiten soldier who made the protest before said it again.

“Yeah, yeah; to-may-to to-mah-to.” Davorin rolled his eyes.

“Can't I just kill him?” The soldier asked Malik in a whining tone.

“No; that will hardly help our demonic image,” Malik said dryly.

“But if we're going to be condemned for a crime, perhaps we should get some enjoyment from it,” the soldier reasoned.

“And that's how we got where we are,” Malik pointed out. “ what the King says.”

“Rise above the perceptions of others and be the man you wish to be,” the soldier dutifully said.

Every non-Bleiten at the table gaped at him.

“Bleitens with a strong moral code... I need another drink,” Landry said as he poured himself a shot.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Lord Malik, don't Alcantans produce a protective barrier on their skin when they're in an inhospitable environment?” One of the Bleiten soldiers asked.

We'd been brainstorming ways to find the bank robbers; in particular, the gooey guy—as we'd taken to calling him. When the soldier—I think his name was Everin—mentioned the Alcantans, everyone went still. According to the stories, the Alcantans had been wiped out by the Bleiten.

“They do,” Malik said with an impressed look at his soldier. “And Earth would be just such a place for them.”

“I'm just going to ask,” Davorin said. “Are the rumors on that one true? Did you guys kill the Alcantans?”

Malik sighed deeply and looked uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, that tale is true,” he itted. “We were at war with the Alcantans, and they wouldn't surrender, even after they had taken tremendous losses. Every time we attempted to form a truce, they'd agree to it and then promptly break it. They took to attacking us in underhanded ways that began to cost us dearly. Our king made the difficult decision to exterminate the Alcantans entirely.”

“So, you're not as righteous as you'd like us to believe,” Kyrian said with a hard stare at Malik.

“I never said we were righteous,” Malik said evenly. “I said we've been your people's scapegoat for centuries. That doesn't mean that we're immune to the darker emotions or that we never make mistakes. But at least we it our mistakes and try our best not to repeat them. The Triari wipe their dirty hands off on someone else and pretend they never stuck them in the mud, to begin with.”

“All right, tone down the sermon; I concede,” Kyrian said. “Let's get back to the Alcantans. Do you think this man could be one of them?”

“If an Alcantan had made it off their planet and all the way to Earth, his body would be in a constant state of defense,” Malik mused. “I suppose that could turn him into an oozing monster.”

“But why would he kill the Triari?” Landry asked. “Wouldn't an Alcantan be more interested in hurting the Bleiten?”

I frowned as I ed those notes I'd found in the lab... the lab that wasn't a Bleiten lab.

“I found Samuel Devlin's notes when I fled that lab,” I murmured.

“Devlin again?” Malik asked. “What's so important about this man?”

“He's the scientist who created the bioweapon that killed the Triari,” I explained. “But he was originally hired to create a bioweapon to kill Bleiten. When the Triari ended their working arrangement, Dr. Devlin began to develop a

bioweapon to kill the Triari. We assumed that he'd done so under Bleiten employ, but it appears that we may have been mistaken.”

“Hold on.” Malik held up a hand. “The Triari contracted a human scientist to help them create a bioweapon? I don't know if I can accept that. The Triari would never it that a human knew more than they.”

“Devlin had made significant strides in his field,” Kyrian said. “But, you're correct; in the end, we broke it off with him. We didn't believe that he was as talented as our own scientists. And he wasn't, but that doesn't mean that he wasn't successful.”

“So, you're saying that not only is there a recipe for making a Triari-targeted bioweapon, there's also one for the Bleiten?” Malik asked.

“Yes, and I have it,” I whispered.

“Excuse me?” Malik gaped at me.

“When I escaped the lab—the lab that I'm fairly certain was yet another deception created by the bank robbers—I found my purse on a table just outside my prison cell. Right beside my purse, there was a safety deposit box with a stack of papers inside it.”

“Dr. Devlin's notes,” Malik concluded.

“Exactly,” I said. “I automatically grabbed them. But, now that I think about it, with the place in such chaos, how was it that my things and those notes were untouched?”

“Awfully convenient,” Kyrian murmured. “As was their proximity to each other.”

“And the notes had 'Bleiten Killer' written in big letters across the first page,” I added. “Someone wanted to make sure I got the message.”

“They were planted there,” Landry concluded. “That whole set-up—the kidnapped women, the lab, and the destruction of it—it was all a show to convince you that the Bleiten were after you while simultaneously providing you with a weapon to defeat them.”

“They thought I'd take those notes straight to the President, and that he would use them to defend Earth against the Bleiten,” I said as I nodded.

“Defend Earth,” Malik huffed. “There's only eight of us here. We aren't attacking Earth.”

“I know that now,” I said gently. “But after the robbery of Dr. Devlin's deposit box, the Bleiten assaulting me on the street, the lab full of purple-eyed prisoners, and then the conversation DHS recorded it was easy for us to believe that the Bleiten were getting ready to wage war on Earth.”

“Someone is framing us again,” Malik said. “It wouldn't be so surprising except that it doesn't appear to be the Triari.”

“Yep; that's a new one,” Kull—another Bleiten soldier—said. “Although, if it's an Alcantan, it's not surprising at all. They were tenacious and devious fuckers. You guys think we were wrong to kill an entire race, but Lord Malik didn't tell you the worst of what they did to us. It was cowardly, evil shit; they targeted our hospitals, family housing, and parks. They even poisoned our drinking water once. I don't regret for one second what the King ordered us to do. I applaud his decision; I only wish he'd made it sooner.”

We all stared at Kull in surprise.

Malik cleared his throat before he said, “Yes; they were vicious, but I don't think there's ever a reason to kill women and children.”

“They killed our women and children,” another Bleiten angrily pointed out.

“So, we repay their evil with our own?” Malik asked scathingly. “Where does that take us?” He glared at his men. “It brings us here; to this foreign planet where the lone survivor of our misdeeds has continued the cycle of hatred and pain.”

“Yes, Sir,” the Bleiten muttered and looked ashamed.

I stared at Malik and thought about how similar his beliefs were to President

Colton's, and how every world needed men like them.

“But they made a crucial mistake,” I said into the silence.

“What's that?” Malik softened his expression as he turned toward me.

“They underestimated President Colton,” I said. “He refused to use the bioweapon against your people. Just like you, he doesn't believe in using evil tactics. Instead, he's been trying to get the Triari to leave. There can't be a Bleiten-Triari war without any Triari.”

Malik huffed a laugh. “I like this man; he uses his wits instead of relying only on his might.”

“Perhaps you should meet him,” I mused. “I need to call him and let him know what we've come up with anyway.”

“I'm not much of a diplomat.” Malik frowned pensively. “But for the sake of peace between our people, and for the opportunity to speak against the lies that have been spread about the Bleiten, I will try.”

I found myself smiling at Malik softly. What was this warm, tingling feeling in my chest? I think it was iration; not just physical iration, but also intellectual and moral. I was forming a deep respect for a Bleiten warlord. How's that for a cynic?

“Who are you?” I whispered to Malik with wonder.

“He's Lord Malik Starsiene,” Everin said proudly. “The Slayer of Shanistar, the Defender of Harringsgate, and the son of King Lucifer Starsiene the Second.”

“She wasn't asking for my resumé, Everin,” Malik said with a pained expression.

“Still, she should know,” Everin said.

“You're that Malik?” Kyrian asked with shock. “You destroyed the entire barracks of Shanistar.”

“That doesn't sound so impressive.” Davorin scowled from Kyrian to Malik.

“A Triari barracks is about the size of New York,” Kyrian said dryly. “The state, not the city.”

“Oh,” Davorin whispered. “Never mind then.”

“I don't wish to discuss my military career,” Malik muttered.

“Why aren't you a prince?” Landry asked.

“I am a prince,” Malik said grudgingly. “Unlike the Triari”—he cast a derisive glance at Kyrian—“we don't use the title of 'prince' as a military rank, it's reserved for heirs to the throne. But I prefer to use the title I earned.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked in amazement.

“You were a very important mission, Amara,” Malik said softly. “You could have meant eternal life for all of my people. It's why I spent so much time watching you before I made . I didn't want to spook you.”

“Sure; that was it,” Davorin huffed.

“Your father must really want the elixir,” I murmured.

“We are a long-lived race, but I think that only makes us crave immortality all the more. So yes; he wants the elixir very badly, but he also wants me to prove myself to our people,” Malik explained. “To be king, I must win the of the Bleiten. If I'm found unworthy, the opportunity will to my brother.”

“That sounds like a hard way to live,” I said.

“It has its difficult moments,” Malik agreed. “But it also has its perks.”

Malik smiled at me in a way that expressed exactly what perk this mission had given him.

“The Bleiten King's name is Lucifer?” Davorin asked; interrupting my moment with Malik. “Does no one else find that funny?”

“Where do you think the myth of the Devil came from?” Kyrian countered. “If you're going to demonize an entire race, you have to start with their leader.”

“That was Lucifer the First,” one of the Bleiten soldiers growled. “And he was a great king.”

“Hey, I'm trying to speak the truth about you,” Kyrian said. “Don't give me a hard time for it.”

The Bleiten glanced at each other and finally nodded. But I saw it out of the corner of my eye; Malik and I were still staring at each other.

“Amara, why don't you give the President a call,” Landry suggested pointedly.

“Oh!” I exclaimed as I broke eye with Malik. “Right.”

I texted President Colton and asked him to me at his earliest convenience. My phone rang a few minutes later; while we were all having another round of Penbruth. It took Colton even less time than that to agree to

meet with Malik. But we wouldn't be meeting him in the White House. Prince Traegur had finally shown his face but it was only to spout wild accusations against the Bleiten, Kyrian, and myself. Evidently, I had caused a whole heap of trouble by escaping Traegur's clutches.

Colton had been trying to talk Traegur down, but finally had enough of the bullshit and pointedly asked the prince how I had come to be on the Triari battleship in the first place. That had sent Traegur off on a furious round of stammered stories. Obviously, he had left his halo off again.

“What did that bastard say exactly?” I asked.

“Nothing that makes any sense,” Colton said. “He goes back and forth between it being an evil plot of your making, to a Bleiten one, to an inside job by the traitor, Kyrian. It seems that Prince Traegur can't make up his mind on who to hate the most.”

“What will you do?”

“I'm leaving,” Colton said and then laughed. “I'm going to see the Supermarket for the first time, and I'm rather excited about that.”

“You're coming here?” I asked as I looked up at Landry in concern.

My foster father cursed, surged to his feet, and shouted to the bar as a whole, “Sorry, everyone, I'm going to have to clear the bar. The goddamn President is

coming!”

Colton laughed. “He sounds charming.”

“That's my father; you'll like him,” I said proudly. “I'll send someone to the gate to meet you, Mr. President.”

“Thank you, Amara,” President Colton said. “And don't worry; I'm not falling for any more Triari tricks.”

“You and me both, Sir,” I said morosely.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The first meeting between a human leader and a Bleiten went well in my opinion.

The Wilds was flooded with secret service agents who inspected every inch of the place before they even allowed President Colton out of the car. Then they took up positions around the bar, gave the all-clear to their buddies outside, and the President was escorted in. A line of agents settled into place in front of The Wilds as the door closed behind the President. Nothing was getting past those men; at least, that's what they thought. The Bleiten eyed the show with amusement and a bit of derision. I couldn't blame them when their prince stood casually waiting with only a handful of men at his side.

“President Matthew Colton, this is Crown Prince Malik Starsiene,” I introduced them; going with Malik's royal title so that President Colton would know exactly who he was dealing with.

Colton's eyes widened as he held a hand out to Malik, “You're King Lucifer's son?”

“King Lucifer the Second's first-born son; yes,” Malik said. “And you're the President who refuses to use evil means to protect his world. It's an honor to meet you. Thank you for being open to learning the truth about my people, and for treating us honorably, even when you believed the worst of us.”

“What good is it to win a war if you lose your soul in the process?” Colton

mused. “I withheld the use of the bioweapon for both our sakes. I'm relieved to discover that the Bleiten are not the monsters we've been led to believe they are, but I'm also deeply concerned that the Triari might be the true villains. Especially since they have fifteen battleships stationed above America and refuse to leave.”

“President Colton, I'm not yet convinced of the Triari's guilt as a race,” Kyrian said. “I believe that Prince Traegur has acted on his own; without our king's consent. I was tasked by the King himself to see to Amara's safety. Not once did he tell me to abduct her and abuse her, as Traegur did.”

“He abused you?” Colton asked me in a deadly tone.

“He kept me in a prison cell and took my blood,” I corrected. “I wasn't beaten or anything of the like.”

“But you were about to be,” Davorin growled. “We showed up just in time to stop him.”

“That's true.” I shifted uncomfortably. “But his treatment of me is the least of his offenses. President Colton, Prince Traegur is one of the men who murdered my parents.”

“That fucking bastard!” Colton swore.

I widened my eyes at him.

“I'm sorry for the outburst, but I've had to listen to his lies all morning,” Colton said angrily. “To know that a murderer dared to sit across from me and disparage the good name of the child of his victims, fills me with fury.”

“So, I see,” I murmured. “President Colton, why don't you have a seat?” I waved to the conference table we'd formed by putting a collection of smaller tables together. “There are a few things we'd like to discuss with you.”

“There's more?” Colton asked as he sat.

“You have no idea,” Landry said as he set a human beer down in front of the President.

“Thank you very much.” Colton lifted the bottle in salute to Landry. “I haven't had a beer in a real bar in a very long time. Of course, this is far more than an average bar.”

“I'll be happy to give you a tour of the Supermarket sometime, Mr. President,” I said. “But, for now, we should discuss the person we believe to be behind all this chaos.”

“Amara, maybe you should fetch Devlin's notes; they should probably be destroyed after we inspect them,” Landry suggested. “We'll fill the President in on Gooey Guy while you're gone.”

“Yes; you're right,” I said as I hurried upstairs to my bedroom.

I went straight to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer where I had stashed the notes. There were only socks and nightgowns in it. I pushed the clothes about in confusion and then opened the drawer beside it. It wasn't there either. My heart started to race as I went through each drawer and then searched my entire room. Nothing was out of place except for the notes, and they weren't just misplaced; they were gone.

Then I noticed how my window wasn't shut all the way. There was the smallest gap between the frame and the base—hardly noteworthy under normal conditions—but currently, it was enough to confirm my suspicions.

“Someone's been here,” I whispered.

I opened the window and searched the slanted rooftop below me for any signs of disturbance, but there wasn't so much as a dirty smudge. I shifted to infrared and still saw nothing, but that wasn't surprising; heat tracks don't last long. Then I saw Leo, Lily, and Jason on the street below; they were arguing with the secret service team stationed outside the bar.

“Pardon me,” I called down to the agents.

Everyone looked up at me.

“Those are my friends,” I said to the agents. “They are also imperative to the

meeting we're having. Please allow them inside.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” one of the agents said and then opened the door.

Lily waved brightly at me before they all entered The Wilds. I waved back before I closed the window and hurried downstairs; going straight to the newcomers and hugging each of them.

“I'm so glad to see you all,” I exclaimed. “I was worried about you the entire time that I was aboard that ship. They told me that you were released, but I was hardly in a position to believe them.”

“You were imprisoned by aliens and you worried ?” Jason asked and chuckled. “Amara, you need to get your priorities straight.”

“I knew I would survive,” I said sternly. “But I wasn't certain about the three of you.”

“I think it's sweet,” Lily said. “We were real worried about you too, Mara. We were so relieved when Dav called to say that he had rescued you.”

“Yes, all by himself,” Malik said sarcastically.

“Watch yourself, Mr. Big and Brooding.” Lily pointed at Malik. “Just because we agreed to work with you, it doesn't mean that any of us trust you.”

“No, why would you?” Malik asked in the same dry tone. “I only risked my life and that of my team to rescue Amara, and now I'm having a meeting with the American President to help him stop whatever criminal is plaguing your city— all simply to improve relations between our races. So, by all means; do not trust me. That would be ridiculous.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.

“A smart-ass too, huh?” Lily was nonplussed. “I shouldn't be surprised, you have that look; that ass-look.”

Malik narrowed his eyes at Lily, and she quickly looked away; all of her bravado disappearing beneath the Bleiten death-glare. Malik settled back into his seat with satisfaction and turned toward President Colton. But before they could resume their conversation, I made my announcement.

“The papers are gone.”

“What papers?” Leo asked.

“No way,” Landry said. “No one would dare rob my place. Look again, kid; you must have misplaced them.”

“They're gone, Land,” I said again. “I looked everywhere. And my window was ajar.”

“Agent Allen, do a perimeter check,” Colton said to one of his men.

Allen nodded and hurried outside.

“They didn't leave any tracks,” I reported. “I had a look out the window and saw nothing; no disturbances at all. It was almost as if they'd flown into my bedroom.”

“Entirely possible with a shapeshifter,” Kyrian pointed out.

“Their plan failed,” Malik mused. “And now they have to improvise.”

“Because I refused to use the bioweapon against the Bleiten,” Colton said. “Damn it all! Now, they have the recipe to kill Triari, and one to kill Bleiten.”

“You need to get off the planet,” I said to Malik. “This is feeling less and less about me and more about you every second.”

“I'm not leaving, Amara,” Malik said sternly.

“He's looking for revenge, Malik,” I huffed. “He was probably trying to incite a war between our people; using the Triari and the bioweapon to tilt things in our favor, but with that option out, he'll settle for killing the Bleiten Crown Prince. I

know I would if I were him.”

Malik didn't answer me; just crossed his thick arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair resolutely.

“The question is; who is this man?” Colton asked. “We're chasing a ghost; ectoplasm and all. If we're going to end this, we need to catch him.”

“Where's Bill Murray when you need him?” Jason lamented dramatically.

“You need bait,” Malik said with a sideways look at his men.

“We're with you, Sir,” one of the Bleiten said. “Let's get this bastard.”

The rest of them nodded.

“Are you out of your mind?” I growled. “If he makes this weapon, he can kill you from a hundred feet away; possibly even a thousand feet away. And you won't lure him out without it.”

“Do we know anything about the weapon?” Colton asked. “Is it airborne? An injectable? Does it transfer through ?”

I thought back to what I'd glimpsed of the notes and considered the question.

“Airborne,” I said. “They could filter it into a room or contain it in a bomb and release it outdoors.”

“Then we give them gas masks and hoods,” Colton said with a smirk.

“Why hoods?” Davorin asked.

“To cover the masks,” Malik said with a smile. “We can huddle up as if we're talking; bent over so that the hoods hide the fact that we're all protected.”

“And then we catch him when he runs,” Colton concluded.

“I like it.” Malik nodded approvingly. “It's simple. Plans are best when kept simple.”

“So, we just stick them in the middle of D.C. and hope Gooey Guy notices?” I asked in amazement. “They could be there for days.”

“I think it would be better if we kept this in the Market,” Landry said. “Perhaps the park. We can make a layered trap to catch any who slip through.”

“Unbelievable.” I rolled my eyes. “The insanity is spreading.”

“He knew when you would be alone, Amara,” Malik pointed out in a deadly tone. “This Alcantan abducted you from a cab that you chose at random. That means he's watching you. He may be watching all of us right now.”

“Then he'll know that we're up to something,” I pointed out. “And he'll know that the Bleiten aren't after me anymore.”

“But he won't know what we're up to,” Kyrian said.

“And he'll know that the Triari are still hunting you,” Davorin added. “We can make it appear to be a trap for the Triari when we're really trapping Gooey.”

“That might work,” I relented. “But I'm still not certain about this.”

“Agent Howard, can you see to acquiring the masks?” Colton asked another of his agents.

“Yes, Mr. President,” Howard said as he pulled out a cell phone.

“No assistant today?” I asked Colton.

“I didn't want to bring anyone else into this,” Colton said. “I'm fairly certain that we don't have a spy in the White House, but I'd rather not risk it.”

“It's always best to handle your own affairs,” Kyrian agreed. “But there's one more issue that we haven't dealt with; Prince Traegur.”

We all made faces at the name.

“I'm going to my king and see if I can deal with this peacefully,” Kyrian suggested. “But you may want to speak with your father and request some , Lord Malik.”

“How many times do I have to say it? I'm not here to start a war.” Malik shook his head. “A small team like ours can slip on and off the planet easily; if we have to leave, we will. But I'm not going to bring more battleships to Earth.”

“Thank you,” Colton said. “We appreciate that.”

“You may not be so appreciative if the Triari turn on you, President Colton,” Kyrian said. “And if I can't get Prince Traegur removed from this mission, that may be exactly what will happen”

“What if you tell Prince Traegur that you raided the lab where the bioweapon was created, and you are now in possession of the weapon that was used to kill Prince Atren and his entourage?” I suggested. “Tell the Prince that if you're forced to, you will defend Earth by any means available to you.”

President Colton started to smile. “You want me to bluff?”

“I do,” I said. “I want you to lie through your teeth, Sir.”

“After the slaughter at the hotel, that should give Prince Traegur pause,” Kyrian agreed. “But hopefully, you won't have to resort to bluffing. Landry, is there somewhere private where I can make my call?”

“No way, man,” Davorin said with a head shake. “I don't trust you yet. You make any calls, you do it in front of all of us.”

“If he hears one unknown whisper in the background, he'll think I'm truly a traitor,” Kyrian said reasonably.

“We won't make a peep,” Malik promised with a smirk. He looked at his soldiers. “Right, men?”

“Yes, Sir,” all of them said.

“You won't even be able to understand what I'm saying,” Kyrian pointed out. “I'll be speaking in Triari.”

“I will understand,” I said.

“And so will we,” Malik added.

“Just make the damn call,” Leo said.

“A compromise then,” Kyrian suggested. “Amara may listen in.”

I lifted a brow at the others, and they gave in grudgingly.

“Use my office,” Landry said to me.

I led Kyrian behind the bar and into Landry's office. After I closed the door behind us, Kyrian turned to me and pulled me into an embrace. I stiffened with shock, but after a second, I relaxed against him. He was warm and smelled of sky and pine resin. I felt calm in his arms, and his steady heartbeat was soothing. But then he eased away.

“I will never forgive myself for failing you,” he said. “I gave you my word that I was here to protect you, and then I let my own people imprison and abuse you. I swear that I was not a part of that, Amara.”

“I know that you weren't, Kyrian,” I said gently. “I heard your argument with Traegur. And I have a feeling that I never would have gotten off that ship if it wasn't for you.”

“You also wouldn't have been on it in the first place,” he said morosely. “But enough of that; I only wished to express my deep remorse for my part in your imprisonment.”

“It's already forgotten,” I said. “But if you ever put a tracking device on me again, I will pluck your wings bald.”

“I understand. And thank you,” Kyrian said with a smile. “There's more I'd like to say, but I know this isn't the time. Will you do me the courtesy of hearing me out later?”

“Of course.”

My heartbeat raced ahead of my reason and began hoping for things that I wasn't ready to commit to. But Kyrian had lowered his halo to speak to me, and the colors within it were hypnotizing; as was his striking face. I had pulled ion out of Kyrian's halo, and if this was Kyrian when he was reserved, what would he be like when he let go completely? What would we be like together? It was a dizzying thought.

“From this moment forward, I will not fail you,” Kyrian promised; his sapphire eyes darkening to deep sea blue. “I'll protect you from the entire Host if I have to, Amara.”

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” I said softly. “But, thank you, Kyrian. I know what you've risked for me.”

“I would risk far more,” he whispered. “You've changed everything.”

“I hope that's a good thing.”

“I hope so too,” he said with a self-conscious smile.

Then Kyrian brought out his communication device and pressed a few buttons on it. A chiming sounded through the speaker and a female voice answered.

“Araboth, how may I direct your call?” She asked in Triari.

“This is Arc Kyrian Leteira for King Jovan,” Kyrian said. “It's urgent.”

“Yes, Sir,” the woman said immediately. “I'll connect you.”

I sat on the edge of Landry's desk as we waited for the Triari King to accept Kyrian's call. Finally, a deep but clear voice answered.

“Arc Kyrian, have you found our missing girl?” He asked.

I lifted a brow at that. The man sounded kind; almost fatherly.

“I have, Your Majesty,” Kyrian said. “But there have been some complications.”

“The Bleiten?” The fatherly voice shifted into something much colder. “They haven't hurt her, have they?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Kyrian said. “Unfortunately, the only people who have hurt Amara Madison have been ours.”

“Explain that, Arc Kyrian,” the voice sank to arctic temperatures.

And he did. Kyrian explained in great detail what had transpired; first with Prince Atren, and then Prince Traegur. When he was finished, the King went silent for a few moments, but his furious breaths came through clearly.

“You're telling me that one of my princes was murdered and the other disregarded my express orders?” King Jovan asked in a tone that could slice heads from bodies.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kyrian said. “I don't know if Prince Atren had any nefarious plans for Amara. Although he wasn't the kindest to her, he seemed to be acting as I was; to protect her. But I had to rescue Amara from Prince Traegur's battleship after he refused to relinquish her into my custody. His betrayal; I am sure of.”

“What was Traegur doing with the poor child?”

“He extracted several vials of her blood and commanded our scientists to attempt to extract the elixir from it,” Kyrian said furiously.

Despite the halo that Kyrian had replaced after his apology to me, I could see his confidence returning. It was in the lines of his body and the expression on his face. I didn't need colors to see that doubting his own race had taken a toll on him. But thinking that his king had deceived him must have been the hardest part. Now that it appeared that the Triari King was the one being deceived, it was easier for Kyrian to bear.

“That is exactly what you were sent to prevent the Bleiten from doing!” King Jovan roared. “A prince betrayed me! Princes have proven their loyalty through years of service to the Throne. If Traegur is a traitor, the loyalty of the entire Host will be brought into question.”

“I think you have very loyal men, Your Majesty,” Kyrian protested. “But every man has his weakness. I suppose the possibility of living forever seduced Traegur.”

King Jovan sighed deeply. “Yes; it can be alluring. I myself was tempted once,” he itted. “I thought it should be an honor for those of us who have fought so bravely for our race. But when Jetek destroyed the elixir and deserted us, I realized my mistake. No one should have eternal life; especially not the powerful.”

Kyrian gaped at the communication device before he stuttered, “I... I was told that the Triari put Dr. Elyonne into hiding on Earth. That you were the one who instructed him to destroy the elixir.”

“I'm sorry that you've been lied to, Arc Kyrian,” King Jovan said sadly. “I wanted to protect Jetek's memory. He was stronger than all of us, and he paid a dear price for that strength. I didn't want him to be seen as a traitor when in fact, he was a hero. He saved us from ourselves. I don't want to think about what we may have become if Jetek hadn't acted as he had.”

My throat constricted and my eyes filled with tears. I turned away from Kyrian and quickly swiped at my face. I don't know why it meant so much to hear some stranger say those things about my father, but it did. It truly did.

I felt Kyrian's hand go to my shoulder ively as he spoke to his king, “I understand, Your Majesty. And I'm sorry to ask this, but did you know that Prince Traegur assassinated Dr. Elyonne?”

“Did I know what?” Jovan asked in a deadly tone.

“Amara Madison confronted Prince Traegur during her confinement,” Kyrian explained. “She says that he itted to killing her parents. Prince Traegur told her that he'd been sent to kill a traitor.”

“He was not sent,” Jovan's voice was tight with grief. “He was not...” He took a deep breath. “Do you believe her? Do you think Traegur really killed Jetek?”

“I do, Your Majesty,” he said. “Especially after my own experiences with Prince Traegur. When I rescued Amara from him, he was in the process of assaulting her.”

“He assaulted her?!”

“He attempted to, Your Majesty,” Kyrian said calmly. “He was stopped before he hurt her.”

“Oh, Jetek; I'm so sorry. I've failed you over and over,” Jovan whispered. Then, in a steadier voice, he said, “Arc Kyrian, I will summon Prince Traegur home to face these accusations. Will you ask Amara if she will provide testimony against him?”

“I will, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” Jovan said softly. “And tell her that her uncle continues to mourn her father. Tell her... Tell her that I wish I had known of her sooner; I would have brought her home to live with her family.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kyrian said. “I will.”

I turned around sharply; my wide eyes staring at Kyrian in shock. He held up his hand and shook his head; asking for patience. So, I said nothing. But inside, I was reeling.

“One more thing, Sire,” Kyrian said. “Traegur determined that Amara's blood is useless as far as extracting the elixir is concerned. The Bleiten have already discovered this, and I believe they will be leaving Earth shortly.”

“But what of the threat?” Jovan asked. “You reported that the Americans were in need of assistance.”

“It appears that someone has been framing the Bleiten,” Kyrian reported. “We believe it to be the last surviving Alcantan.”

“An Alcantan survived?” Jovan asked in surprise. “But why would he attack America and the Triari?”

“To force us to bring the Host here and destroy the Bleiten, Your Majesty,” he said. “I'm questioning a lot of things. I'm afraid that we may not have been on the right side of several altercations.”

“What does that mean, Arc Kyrian?” Jovan asked gruffly.

“Just what I said, Sire,” Kyrian said. “I think we've been deceived by our prejudices and possibly our own people.”

King Jovan went silent.

“Your Majesty?”

“What's happening to the Host?” King Jovan whispered. “Where has our honor gone?”

“I don't know,” Kyrian murmured. “My faith in our people has been greatly shaken, but my faith in you stands firm. I know you can lead us back into the light.”

“Thank you, Arc Kyrian,” Jovan said softly. “I will do my best to ensure that your faith isn't misplaced.”

“I know you will, Your Majesty.”

“I can't recall the Host yet,” Jovan continued. “There is still the matter of a murdered prince to attend to. Our people will expect justice for Prince Atren.”

“The U.S. Government will no doubt want to handle this criminal themselves,” Kyrian warned him.

“That will be a subject for negotiation,” Jovan said. “For now, do what you can to help them apprehend the killer.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“This doesn't mean that you're relieved from your original mission, Arc Kyrian,” Jovan said crisply. “If a prince has turned traitor, there is an even greater reason for you to see to my niece's safety. Protect her and the secret she carries, and if, at the end of this, she can possibly forgive me for failing her and her parents so horribly, bring her home, Arc Kyrian. Please, bring her home safe to her family.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will not fail you or her,” Kyrian said with a determined look at me.

“No, you will not,” Jovan said firmly and then a click announced the end of the conversation.

“Amara, before you—”

“I'm his fucking niece?!” I shouted.

“Yes,” Kyrian said gently. “It was why I was so certain that he hadn't given Prince Traegur the order to imprison you. King Jovan loved your father very much.”

“The Triari King was in love with Amara's father?” Davorin asked in shock.

Davorin stood in the open doorway with Landry and Malik; all three of them gaping at us.

“As a brother,” Kyrian said in exasperation. “Because they were brothers.”

“Holy holly berries!” Landry exclaimed. “Jetek never told me that he was royalty.”

“I imagine it wasn't something that he wanted known,” Malik murmured as he frowned at me.

Oh, did that make me less attractive to the heir to the Bleiten Throne? I suppose it might pose a problem if we ever dated. King Lucifer may not take kindly to the possibility of a royal, half-Triari daughter-in-law.

“I listened to the whole conversation,” I said. “I believe that King Jovan is innocent of my parents' murders and of my abduction by Prince Traegur. He just reaffirmed Kyrian's mission to protect me, and he sounded a bit broken up by the whole thing.”

“King Jovan is summoning Prince Traegur home to answer for his actions,” Kyrian said. “He should be leaving soon. Although, the Host will remain to see that Prince Atren's killer is brought to justice.”

“Good,” Landry said distractedly. “Now, if we can just find Slimer, we'll be in great shape.”

Landry turned and headed back into the bar.

“Land?” I chased after him and pulled him aside. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, kid; I'm fine,” Landry muttered. “What about you? You okay?”

“A little in shock,” I itted. “But, yes; I'm fine.”

“Okay.”

“Landry?”

“I suppose you'll be going to meet your real family when this is done,” he muttered.

I gaped at him and then pulled him into a hug as tears stung my eyes and tightened my throat. “Landry, you are my real family.” I leaned back to add, “Some king that happens to share my blood can't replace you; not ever.”

“Thanks, kid,” Landry whispered and sniffed. “Okay, enough with the sappy shit. Let's go tell the others that you're an angel princess.”

“Oh, please no,” I groaned as Landry laughed.

But then I caught Malik's brooding stare, and I frowned back at him in question. He gave me a tight smile and stalked back to the table as if he needed something to kill. Well, there went that romance. I don't think I've ever been discarded so quickly.

Being an angel wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Chapter Forty

“We have two royals with us,” President Colton mused. “Two houses, both alike in dignity...”

“Are you seriously referencing Romeo and Juliet?” I asked in horror. “You know that's a tragedy, right?”

“Two warring races with royal children who seem to have...”—Colton waved a hand between Malik and me—“something intense brewing between them. There are worse ways to end wars.”

Landry made an amused sound and slapped the back of his hand on the President's bicep. “I called him Romeo once too. But that was because he was watching Mara's window like a lovesick teenager.”

“Really?” Colton lifted an eyebrow at Malik.

“Perhaps you should stick to running your country, President Colton,” Malik said in an even tone. “You're far better at it than at matchmaking.”

President Colton chuckled. “Fair enough, Prince Malik,” he conceded. “But don't tell me the thought didn't enter your mind. I saw that pensive expression cross your face.”

“A match between myself and a Triari royal may have the opposite effect of what you're suggesting,” Malik said with a dark glance my way. “It could aggravate tensions instead of alleviating them.”

So, that's what the look had been about. If Malik brought an angel girlfriend home to meet his demon daddy, all hell would break loose.

“Well, that's just too bad,” Davorin said with a smirk.

Malik narrowed his eyes at Dav, but Davorin met him glare for glare.

“There appears to be more than one suitor vying for the fair Juliet,” Colton noted. “Are you certain you wish to give up so quickly, Romeo?”

“I never said that I was giving up; just that it was none of your business,” Malik said in a low, deadly tone.

“Lady Amara belongs with a man of her own race,” Kyrian snapped. “Have some honor and step down, Malik.”

“My honor is none of your concern either, Arc.” Malik bared his sharp teeth at Kyrian, and Kyrian started to get out of his chair.

“Sit the fuck down and shut up; all of you!” I shouted.

The men froze and stared at me in shock.

“I am right here, in case you haven't noticed,” I snapped. “And, believe it or not, I may have an opinion about who I see romantically. At the moment, I want nothing to do with any of you imbeciles. If you'd like that to change, I suggest that you stop arguing over me like a pack of dogs with a piece of meat, and start helping the President of the United States stop a criminal who may or may not be trying to instigate war on Earth. President Colton endangered himself just to come into the Supermarket and talk to you nincompoops today, and all of you are behaving atrociously!”

“Bravo!” Lily started clapping.

Leo and Jason ed in. The secret service agents were trying to hold back their smirks, the Bleiten were scowling ferociously at me, Landry was laughing uproariously, and the men who had just been fighting over me looked as if they'd swallowed lemons.

“Well said, Amara!” President Colton nodded approvingly, even though he had been a bit of an instigator.

I gave him a knowing glare, and he cleared his throat self-consciously.

“Give my people a few hours to get the gas masks and organize a team to assist

you, and then you can proceed with your mission,” President Colton said. “I'll be monitoring the situation from the White House, and I expect the highest success from such a powerful group. Thank you all for your willingness and efforts to help America.” He looked around the table at everyone there. “I deeply appreciate what you're about to do for this country, and I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” I said as I stood with him.

After Colton shook my hand, he shook hands with every member of our team and thanked them each personally.

I walked him to the door with his security team and leaned in to whisper, “Excellent motivational speech, Mr. President.”

Colton chuckled and glanced back at the others. “Good luck; for the mission and your suitors, Juliet.”

Chapter Forty-One

As the group began to hash out everyone's positions and objectives in the park, I went upstairs to Landry's little kitchen to see if there was enough food for all of us to have some lunch. If not, I was going to send someone across the street to Mama's Diner. While I was rooting through the refrigerator, Malik came in. I heard his heavy footsteps approaching down the hallway, and a side-glance showed me the edges of his unmistakable aura.

I stood as I turned to face him; noting that his aura was brimming with shades of rose—sexual attraction of the loving persuasion. My breath caught in my throat; it had been a long time since I'd seen those colors in a man's aura—at least directed toward me.

The fridge beeped to remind me that I'd left it open too long, and I flinched. I hadn't even noticed the cool air blasting around my body; I suppose it had tempered my flushed skin. I absently shut the door as Malik stepped closer.

“I've been clear with you from the start,” Malik said in a deep, velvety voice. “You know that I want you. You've always known, haven't you?”

Malik moved closer until his body was a mere breath away from mine. I could feel the warmth of his skin and smell his spicy-warm scent—like a whiff of incense on a summer's night.

“Yes; you've been clear.”

“Then you must also know how my affections have grown,” Malik said as he lightly drew one hand up my arm.

“I've gotten that impression,” I whispered as I looked up into his turbulent stare.

“I can't let go of this.” Malik lowered his face to hover over mine; his breath tickling my lips. “But I can't pursue you further without making it absolutely clear that a relationship with me would be dangerous for both of us and possibly catastrophic to the Triari and the Bleiten.”

“You make such a convincing argument,” I teased him breathlessly.

“I don't want to mislead you, Amara,” Malik said softly as his hand crept up to my cheek. “It will be rough on us, but you don't seem like the kind of woman who'd be bothered by a little adversity.”

“Hardly,” I said.

“Then there's just one more question we need answered.”

“What's that?”

“Are we worth it?” Malik asked as he lowered his lips to mine.

A flash of shivering desire shot through my body as Malik's mouth moved softly; urging me to respond. I slipped my hands up his wide chest; feeling the hard curves of his muscles and the steady beating of his heart. Malik pulled me closer, and our auras mingled; becoming one pulsing, rosy sunset of desire and something more. Something profound that I've never felt before. I closed my eyes tightly; blocking out the colors and focusing on the man.

Malik was tender at first, but soon his kiss became more insistent, and his hands clutched me tighter. I curled my fingers over his shoulders and pulled myself higher on his chest; pushing our lips together savagely. I hadn't realized how much my feelings had been growing for him as well, and how much I'd been denying those feelings. Now, they were coming out in full force.

Malik groaned and lifted me off my feet; holding me aloft with one arm as he slid his other hand into my hair. He curled his fingers over the nape of my neck and deepened our kiss roughly. My dangling legs curled around his, and I used them to pull our hips together. The hard, thick length of him pressed against me intimately, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.

We were practically clawing at each other when Malik pulled away to stare at me with burning intensity as heavy breaths pushed his chest into mine. His stare traveled over my face possessively and then fell on my swollen lips. Malik brushed a thumb across my mouth gently and then lightly kissed me once more before he slid me slowly down his body and set me on my feet.

“Well,” he said a little breathlessly, “I think we have our answer.”

Malik lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it lingeringly as he held my stare.

Then he turned around and strode back the way he'd come. I stared after him; trying desperately to that I didn't jump into bed with men who I barely knew... and that my foster father was downstairs with two other men who would be hurt if I gave in to my urge to lure Malik into my bedroom. It's one thing to be ed over for another guy, but it's quite another to have the woman you're interested in sleep with your competition mere feet away. And it would be rude. I wasn't rude, nor did I want to hurt Kyrian or Davorin. But it seemed as if my heart had made a decision.

Chapter Forty-Two

A Special Ops military unit was allowed into the Supermarket for the first time ever. But they came in dressed as civilians and drove civilian vehicles with no more than three to a car. Each car had a member of our team in it as well; to get them through the Supermarket's gate. Then we split up and took several different streets to Market Park.

The Bleiten, however, made their way to the park in their own manner. And they beat all of us there. They even made a sweep of the park before we arrived.

“Did you use your battle-forms to fly?” Kyrian asked Malik when we reconvened.

“We were discreet, but not too discreet,” Malik said with a smirk. “We wanted to make sure they saw us.”

“I think we're good on that ,” Kyrian huffed.

“Sir,” one of the U.S. soldiers came up to us carrying a large, green duffel bag. “The masks.”

The soldier handed out masks to each of the Bleiten. Malik and his men fitted the gas masks over their heads and then covered them with the hoods of their black jackets.

“You look positively apocalyptic,” I said to Malik.

“Thank you,” his voice sounded hollow behind the dual filters bracketing his mouth.

“We'll be nearby if you need any assistance,” the human soldier said before he spoke into a tiny comm unit pinned to his collar. “Everyone in position?”

He walked away as he confirmed that everyone was ready.

“Be careful,” I said to Malik. “This guy is smart and furious.”

Malik nodded, and I headed off with Kyrian. I knew that Malik thought I was worrying for nothing; the possibility of failure wouldn't even occur to him. It wasn't cockiness, it was simply confidence and determination. Malik knew that he would win because he wouldn't stop until he did. There was nothing wrong with that. In fact, it was undeniably attractive. But today, it only added to my concern. Too much confidence could kill a man.

Davorin and his group were spread out among the trees already, and Landry had practically become a part of the forest—I couldn't have found him if I tried. I ended up partnered with Kyrian because he refused to have it any other way. That conversation with King Jovan had intensified his determination to see to my safety.

“We have a couple guys coming up the main path,” a male voice came through my earpiece; it was one of the human soldiers.

All of us prepared to act, but it was just a couple of teenagers looking for a place to sit and smoke their stolen cigarettes. It went on like this for nearly two hours; with the Bleiten standing in a huddle like a demonic football team the entire time.

We had no warning of the attack because it came from above. A winged supernatural dropped a man in the center of the Bleiten circle. The Bleiten lurched back in surprise as the man removed his gloves and flung a thick substance around him at face-level. The gas masks began to sizzle and melt immediately and there were smoking holes in the hoods as well. As the Bleiten hurried to divest themselves of both coats and masks, and our entire team— including the human soldiers—leapt into action to apprehend the goo-some attacker, the flying supe swooped down and snatched him back up. As they flew away, Gooey Guy dropped something.

It was a slim canister that exploded when it hit the ground; shooting thick, white fumes out its top. The Bleiten instantly started to gag as they dropped to their knees. Shouting and the sound of gunfire erupted around me as the humans tried to bring down the escaping villains. I didn't care about the Alcantan anymore; I ran straight for Malik. Kyrian cursed violently as he slapped the gold pin on his chest, and a pair of massive, white, feathered wings appeared behind him. Correction; three pairs of wings.

One flap of those enormous wings took Kyrian several feet into the sky and he was soon flying swiftly after the murderers. But I was too intent on Malik to track Kyrian's progress. By the time I reached his side, Malik's skin had turned a deathly shade of gray, and he was breathing in short gasps.

“Malik!” I shouted as I dropped to the ground beside him. “Just hold on a little longer; I can help you.”

I worked at the colors around Malik; using orange to ease his breathing and red to combat the poison shooting through his body. I cast some yellow in him to clear away anything that might have made it to his stomach, and I was about to try a shot of suppressing white when his hand slipped into mine.

“Amara,” Malik whispered. “I'm sorry. I thought that we were destined for each other. I was so certain that nothing could touch us.”

And then he closed his eyes.

“No,” I gasped. “No!”

I racked my mind for something—anything—to help him, and then I ed what Dr. Jeckeel had said about Bleiten being able to heal themselves with blood... and how perhaps that would be a way to access the elixir.

I could very well be making the biggest mistake of my life, but there was no way that I'd let Malik die if I had a chance of saving him.

“Bite down, Malik,” I said as I shoved my wrist between his teeth.

He didn't move.

“Malik, damn you to hell, you blasted demon! Bite me!” I slapped him hard.

Malik's jaw jerked closed, and his teeth impaled my wrist. I made a pained groan as the burn of his bite shot up my arm, but I kept my wrist where it was. My blood filled Malik's mouth, and then his lips closed—pressing tightly to my skin —and he began to drink in earnest. Suddenly, Malik's arm went around my waist, and he pulled me across his body as he sucked harder. I wish I could say that it was romantic or maybe even sexual; like how those vampire novels describe a bite. It was not either of those things. Malik's grasp felt more imprisoning than seductive—he was latched onto me as if he thought I might try to escape—and his mouth on my wrist was just plain painful. But the colors in his aura were brightening, and if his grip was any indication, his strength was returning as well. So, I breathed through the sting and let him drink his fill.

I knew that the other Bleiten were dead because no one was with them; everyone was gathered around Malik and I. They gaped at us like a bunch of children witnessing their first schoolyard brawl. But then Malik reared back and cried out; not a single drop of my blood on his lips. He released me as his body started to shake violently.

“Malik!” I took his head between my hands and held it still so that he wouldn't hurt himself. “Malik, don't fight it; just let it work.”

I was ing my own experience with the elixir. My father had told me that it was medicine, but it had been so painful. I had gone through exactly what Malik was; terrible tremors taking over my body as I tried to fight the changes happening inside me—changes that seeped into my very bones. Then my father had said the same thing to me that I said to Malik; Don't fight it. As soon as I

accepted the pain, it had disappeared.

Malik must have trusted me enough to heed my words because he went still and let out a long, relieved breath. I moved to his side and stroked the hair back from his face anxiously.

“Malik?” I whispered. “How are you feeling?”

Malik opened his eyes and smiled softly at me; an action that made me draw in a startled breath. Not because he was alive; although, that was truly miraculous. No, I was shocked by the color of his eyes; a shimmering, brilliant violet that was one shade lighter than mine.

“You sweet, beautiful, amazing, little liar,” Malik whispered to me just before he pulled me into a ionate, toe-curling kiss.

Chapter Forty-Three

“Can someone explain to me what just happened?” One of the human soldiers asked.

Davorin and Landry glanced at each other warily, but I handled it smoothly.

“I have healing abilities,” I said. Then I focused back on Malik. “I never lied to you. I'll explain it later.”

Malik smiled and said, “I don't care, Amara. You saved my life, and I'm grateful.”

Then Malik frowned and turned his head to look for the other Bleiten. His jaw clenched and he stood; drawing me up with him. I held his hand as he stared at the bodies of his men; his jaw clenching in fury.

“I'm so sorry,” I murmured. “I could barely save you.”

“I understand,” Malik said and then swallowed roughly. “But now this has become personal. I can't leave Earth until I have avenged my men.”

A great whooshing of air announced Kyrian's return. We all turned toward him

as he touched down nearby and then came running over.

“They've taken the White House!” Kyrian shouted.

“What?” I gaped at him.

“That dripping monster and his friends have taken control of the White House,” Kyrian repeated. “The gooey guy himself is out on the President's balcony addressing the Press.”

“What?!” I screeched.

“He's holding the President hostage,” Kyrian went on. “I didn't stay to hear his demands.”

“How the fuck was he able to take the White House?” Davorin asked.

“It appears that Dr. Devlin had notes for other bioweapons,” Kyrian said grimly. “The lawn is riddled with dead humans who look as if they never even attempted to draw their guns.”

“Did you see how many of them infiltrated the White House?” Malik asked in a low growl.

Kyrian frowned and then blinked as he stared at Malik's eyes. Then he looked at the dead Bleiten around us, and, finally, at me.

“What did you do, Amara?” Kyrian whispered.

“She saved my life,” Malik said simply. “Now, how many enemies do we have to kill, Arc Kyrian?”

“Uh... forty maybe,” Kyrian said and then shook his head as if to clear it. He corrected himself, “Forty-seven. How many can you take?”

“All of them,” Malik growled as he stepped away from me.

Malik's body enlarged; his muscles bulging and tearing the fabric of his shirt. Claws burst from his hands and feet; tearing through his heavy boots until the leather burst apart completely and revealed monstrous talons. Malik's neck thickened as his face went sharper and angled into demonic lines. Horns slid out of his skull along his cheekbones and at his temples—the latter curving up and out dramatically—and a pair of leathery wings burst from his back. They beat the air once—as if shaking off slumber—and then settled. As we all gaped at him, Malik's shirt burst into flames, and he tore the remnants away to reveal the burning outline of a crown upon his chest. The fire settled into a soft glow and then faded out completely; leaving a detailed tattoo of a burning crown.

“Amara.” Malik held a clawed hand out to me.

I took it immediately.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Davorin asked me. “You're going to go flying with that thing?”

“I'm going to save our president with Malik and Kyrian,” I said calmly. “Are you coming, Davorin?”

“I can carry one person,” Kyrian offered.

“Damn it all!” Davorin cursed. “Take Tempest; she can do the most damage from the sky.”

Lily rushed forward and turned around in front of Kyrian so he could hold her from behind. “Don't get any funny ideas, angel,” she said. “I just need my hands free.”

Kyrian rolled his eyes but wrapped his arms around her waist securely.

“My men,” Malik growled as he glanced at the bodies.

“I'll see that they're taken somewhere safe,” Landry promised.

“Thank you, Landry,” Malik said.

The sincere words seemed strange coming from the mouth of a monster. But I knew that Malik was still in there, beneath the brutal exterior. Despite his terrifying battle-form, he still had those violet eyes and his steadfast aura. I nodded to Malik, and he pulled me in tightly to his massive chest.

“Don't let me go, demon,” I said.

“Never, my angel,” Malik promised as he launched us into the sky.

Kyrian and Lily followed, and everyone else scrambled for their vehicles on the ground.

Chapter Forty-Four

“I am Ghoul!” Mr. Gooey shouted to the Press.

His heavy jacket and gloves were gone; revealing a slimy face and arms that dripped toxic gunk all over the historic balcony. Malik and I flew toward the White House beside Kyrian and Lily; all of us intent on the speech that was being broadcasted over loudspeakers at a jostling crowd of journalists and amazed bystanders.

“My people were destroyed by the Bleiten, but no one cared!” He went on. “I appealed to your leaders for help, but none of them would listen to me. They forced me to take action on my own. Today, I have begun a war against the Bleiten on behalf of America. I've killed their prince, and they will be coming for vengeance.”

“No, you haven't,” Malik growled as he put on speed.

“Your armies will be forced to face them,” Ghoul went on. “But worry not; I will kill every Bleiten who steps foot on this planet!”

“I've heard enough,” I muttered. Then to Lily, I called out, “Tempest, can you seal the White House in a storm? The fewer witnesses, the better, and I don't want these bastards escaping.”

“No problem,” Lily said with a smirk.

She held out her arms and storm clouds began to gather. The sky darkened to gray and thunder boomed around us. The Press scurried for cover as ominous clouds swirled around the White House gates and started to circle the place like a tornado. Lightning flashed through the thickening mist and the wind began a frightful wailing. Kyrian landed on the lawn to set Tempest down. She continued to feed the storm as he shot up into the air to re us.

Ghoul and his group on the balcony stared about themselves in confusion. Then they spotted us; coming in for a landing on the balcony beside them. Ghoul shouted something at his men and then started to run forward himself, but I tossed several colors at him rapidly. A twist of yellow here and a blast of blue there; in mere seconds, Ghoul was no more ghoulish than I. He was just a normal man running toward his death.

Ghoul finally noticed that his body wasn't fighting Earth's atmosphere anymore, and therefore, it wasn't producing his protective, toxic sludge. He came to a screeching halt and then actually screeched; staring from his dry arms to me in accusation.

“You horrid bitch!” Ghoul shouted as the last of his goop dripped free of him. Then he saw Malik. He pointed at him and shouted, “You're supposed to be dead, Bleiten!”

“I was saved by an angel.” Malik smiled viciously.

“Kill them all!” Ghoul started shouting. “But especially her! Cut off her fucking

head if you have to; just make sure that you kill Spectra!”

“Oh, you're familiar with that name, are you?” I asked as I casually threw illusions into the path of his men. “Then you should know that you can't kill me.”

Some of Ghoul's men started to scream and some simply froze and peed themselves. One of them actually managed to toss a canister at us; it started spewing fumes but had no effect on any of us. I assumed it was the bioweapon they had used on the humans.

The men who made it past my illusions shot flames, lasers, and frost at us; all at once. One of Kyrian's wings shot out to block Malik and me from the onslaught as another dropped before himself. Sparks and glittering shards of ice glowed red as they converged with the lasers, but all of them were turned back upon the Ghoul's minions. When Kyrian lowered his wings, he revealed whimpering men; bloody and blue, and some with smoking wounds. Malik and Kyrian stalked forward to finish them off quickly; Malik with his bare claws, and Kyrian with a sword that he drew out of his magnificent wings. It seemed that they were both shield and sheath.

“Well, if I have to be a superhero, then you have to be the supervillain,” I said to the gawking Ghoul. “Which makes it my job to stop you.”

“You'll never stop me,” Ghoul growled like a proper villain and turned on his heels to abandon his dying men.

He ran into the White House.

“Fucking coward,” Malik snarled in disgust.

We dispensed with the rest of the men on the balcony—the ones still cringing in fear of my illusions—and then we chased after Ghoul.

Chapter Forty-Five

The White House was full of bodies. We ran past the twisted corpses, with their hands clutching at their throats, and I tried not to look at their faces. But when I saw Agent Washburn laid out beside Agent Stayton, I stumbled and let out a small whimper. Kyrian steadied me and shot me a questioning look, but I just shook my head and started running again. That bastard Ghoul was racking up a long tab, and I intended to make him pay double.

Then we chased Ghoul through a room that was full of dead Triari.

Malik cursed in Bleiten. Roughly translated it meant: spittle of an insane manwhore. Kyrian stopped beside him to stare down at what Malik was glaring at; it was Prince Traegur.

“Well, that will save us the rigors of a trial,” Kyrian said dryly.

“I wanted to kill him myself,” Malik growled. “I should never have left him alive.”

“I wanted to kill him, but justice has been done, even if it was meted out by the wrong hand,” I declared as I ran past both men. “And there is still more to be had.”

“She's right,” Malik muttered to Kyrian. “There's no sense in crying over spilled

Triari blood.”

They both came running after me.

If only Ghoul would stumble or even pause, I could have launched something at him; an illusion or even a direct assault. But he was quick, and more of his minions were lurking about the White House. One, in particular, was familiar to me, or at least his aura was.

“That's the man who I thought was a Bleiten. I recognize the evil in his aura,” I declared as I pointed at a slim, winged man who was striding down the hallway toward us; the same winged supe who had dropped Ghoul in the middle of the Bleiten.

“You mean this Bleiten?” The man asked as his form shimmered and shifted into the body of the Bleiten who had attacked me in the Market. “Hello, pretty eyes.”

“How could you think he was a Bleiten?” Malik asked as he scowled at the man. “He's not nearly handsome enough.”

“We don't have time for battle humor,” Kyrian snapped as he lifted his sword.

“Stand down, Arc,” Malik said as he grabbed Kyrian's arm. “That shapeshifting bastard helped Ghoul murder my men.”

Kyrian moved aside with a respectful nod and waved Malik forward. Malik grinned wickedly as the Bleiten impostor rushed him. He didn't move; just planted one taloned foot firmly in the carpet and waited for the impact. Frankly, I was impressed that the impostor had the courage to attack a real Bleiten in his battle-form. But then I saw why he was so brave. As he ran, the shapeshifter transformed again; this time into a battle-form that matched Malik's. He had the horns, the claws, and even the dragon wings. But, he was still an impostor, and he didn't know how to use the demon form as Malik did.

The shapeshifter bent over and went straight for Malik's chest like a bull; horns pointed forward. Malik remained steady and as soon as the shapeshifter came within grasp, the true Bleiten warrior lifted the wannabe up by the back of his neck and crushed it with one movement. It sounded like a crumpled bag of potato chips; not very loud at all. But when Malik tossed the corpse into the wall, it made a resounding crash that shook the hallway.

“Feel better?” Kyrian asked Malik dryly.

“Yes, thank you,” Malik said as he strode forward; stretching out his neck muscles as he went.

Several more Ghoul minions stepped between us and Ghoul; sending various attacks our way. But only one of us was mortal, and he was an Arc. Suffice it to say that their attacks fell short of doing any lasting damage. They did, however, give Ghoul the time he needed to reach the President.

We rushed into the Oval Office and found President Colton strapped to his leather, desk chair. He was surrounded by Ghoul and his surviving minions, but he looked more furious than terrified. Then Ghoul set a knife against the President's throat and narrowed his stare at me.

“Can someone please just kill this son of a bitch?” Colton asked bravely.

“Shut up!” Ghoul hissed at him.

“How exactly do you see this ending?” I asked Ghoul.

“With you dead and me running this country,” Ghoul said immediately.

I laughed scathingly. “You've got ten seconds to drop that knife before I make you wish you were never born.”

Malik and Kyrian spread out to either side of me and settled into battle stances as they set their stares on Ghoul and his pack of Ghoulies.

“I already wish that!” Ghoul shouted. “I've been in torment since the day my parents shoved me on that spacecraft and launched me toward Earth. They saved my life but at what cost? They turned me into someone who could never be touched; never be loved. I've lived my life in the shadows and the sewers, and it's all because of them!” He pointed his free hand at Malik.

“Your people wouldn't stop attacking mine,” Malik snapped. “They just didn't know when they were defeated. It seems to be an Alcantan trait.”

“I still have the President,” Ghoul pointed out. “One more step—”

“Your ten seconds have long been up,” I growled as I focused on Ghoul.

I shifted the world around us and made it appear as if Malik's men came running into the room. It was the most complicated illusion I'd ever done, but the images of those Bleiten were fresh in my mind, and it wasn't difficult to project them. There was just one problem; I hadn't told Kyrian or Malik about the illusions I could cast, and both of the men flinched in shock when they saw the Bleiten. I had to hold my arms out to them and quickly whisper that it was all an illusion of my creation. That seemed to shock them nearly as much as the illusion itself.

“No; you're dead!” Ghoul shouted. “I killed all of you! Why won't you die?!”

The Ghoulies cringed at first, but then I merged them with the illusions of Malik's men, and I made it look as if they were attacking their leader. Beneath the false imagery, I knew the minions faltered and froze in confusion, but it looked as if they had simply disappeared and the Bleiten had taken their places.

Ghoul yanked his knife away from the President and started stabbing his own men. As they defended themselves, Malik and Kyrian rushed forward to ring them in and finish them off; poor Malik having to attack the images of his own men. It was a show of his faith in me that he did so with such confidence.

I slid through the chaos to grab the President and roll him out of the room in his desk chair. Thank goodness it had wheels. But even with the wheels, I couldn't get much further than the hallway because of the bodies littering it. So, I got the President as far away as I could and then worked his ties loose.

“Thank you, Ms. Madison,” President Colton said as he calmly walked over to one of the dead secret service agents and pulled the gun from the agent's holster.

“President Colton!” I cried as he strode back into the Oval.

A gunshot went off just as I entered the room. Everyone froze as Ghoul—who was already bleeding from several wounds inflicted on him by his own men— dropped to the floor with a hole in the center of his forehead. Kyrian and Malik moved back instantly and folded their wings around themselves as President Colton kept firing; killing every ghoulie left alive. They may have been supernaturals, but they weren't impervious to bullets in the brain. Nor were they immortal.

When Colton was done, and the bad guys laid dead around us, the President calmly placed the gun down on his desk and then went to a little brass cart full of liquor bottles. He poured a drink for each of us, grasped them together by their rims—two in each hand—and ed them out. He paused a few seconds when he came to Malik; eyeing the Bleiten battle-form appreciatively before he lifted his glass of whiskey in salute.

“To those who died today; may they rest now that they've been avenged,” President Colton said. “To those who gave them that vengeance; may they rest now that our country is safe again. And, finally, to those who will spin today's events into something that will allow my fellow Americans to find their rest tonight. God knows I can't come up with anything.”

We clicked our glasses together and shot back our whiskey. As I gasped through the bite and burn, Lily came storming into the room—not literally, thank heavens

—but she was seriously peeved.

“What the fuck?” Lily huffed as Davorin, Jason, Leo, and the men from the Special Ops team rushed in behind her.

Lily gaped at the sight of the President having a drink between two winged men —one feathered and one leathered—as we all stood before a pile of gory corpses. But that didn't seem to be her issue.

“You're drinking without us?” She asked with an offended expression.

“I think we're going to need more glasses,” President Colton said with a smile. “A lot more glasses.”

Chapter Forty-Six

After our celebratory drinks, Kyrian ed the Triari battleships to inform them of the incident at the White House which included the death of yet another prince. More Triari soldiers came down from the battleships to collect the bodies, but Kyrian didn't return with them. He had to place one more call; to King Jovan.

The Triari King was understandably upset by the additional deaths, but he was relieved to hear that the murderers had been executed. He congratulated Kyrian and gave him a new assignment; to bring the fleet home... along with me. It was, of course, an invitation for me, not an order. Kyrian paused to tell me about the invite and King Jovan must have realized that I was nearby.

“One moment, Your Majesty,” Kyrian said. He pressed a button on the communication device and then said to me, “King Jovan wants to speak with you.”

I glanced at Malik, who was seated on the couch beside me; back in his more human-looking form. His shirt hung in tatters around him and he was barefoot, but he managed to look both amazing and absolutely comfortable. We were still in the Oval Office; keeping watch over the President while he made a few calls of his own.

Malik shrugged. “Do you want to speak to him?”

“He's a good man, Amara,” Kyrian said. “He just wants to talk to brother's

daughter; I don't think it's a lot to ask.”

I took a deep breath and reached for the device. Then I stared at the unmarked buttons.

“Here.” Kyrian pressed a central button. “Lift it to your ear and speak; just like a cell phone.”

“Hello?” I said hesitantly.

“Amaranthine, is that you?” Jovan's voice sounded excited.

“I prefer Amara.”

“And you speak Triari?” He asked in surprise.

“Quite well,” I said.

“Wonderful!” He continued in Triari. “Sweetheart, this is your Uncle Jovan. Your father was my younger brother. I'm so sorry for what happened to you. Please know that I was unaware of your existence until very recently. If I had known that Jetek had a child and that she had survived the—” he broke off and took a shaky breath—“the assassination of him and his wife, I would have sent someone for you immediately. But it seems that we were both betrayed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said. “It seems so.”

“Please, call me 'Uncle Jovan,'” he insisted. “We're family, and you, my dear, are a duchess. I want you to come home and live the life you were born to have. I will make sure that no one hurts you ever again. It's the least that I can do for your father and for you.”

“I've made a life here, Uncle Jovan,” I said softly. “My parents' dear friend, Landry, raised me in their stead. He's been a good father to me, and I won't leave him. I'm happy here; I have a job that I love”—I looked up and smiled at Davorin and his crew—“and friends who are like family. I don't want to leave; I'm sorry.”

“I'm deeply grateful to the man who raised you and saw to your safety when I could not,” Jovan said gently. “I will send him a reward for his sacrifice, and I would be happy if you would bring him with you to Eden.”

Yes; the Triari home planet is Eden, and—this will really tickle you pink—the Bleiten home planet is Hell. They obviously influenced human myths.

“I don't think that Landry will want to leave either,” I said. “And you don't have to reward him; being family to each other is its own reward.”

“I hope you don't hold me responsible for what happened to you,” he said mournfully. “I hold myself responsible, and I would understand if you did as well. But I would hate for you to give up so much because of it. Please forgive

me for my ignorance and come home, Amara. You have a real family now; my wife and son are looking forward to meeting you. Please, give us a chance.”

“I would like to meet all of you someday,” I said. “But the family I have here is very real to me.”

“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “I spoke without thinking. Forgive me.”

“I understand,” I said. “But I need some time to think about this before I leave Earth.”

“All right, Amara,” he said softly. “If you won't come home for good, at least come for a visit. Bring your fostering father and even your friends if you wish. I would dearly love to meet all of them.”

I went quiet and glanced at Malik. Malik's eyes went wide, and he shook his head. But I was in a feisty mood.

“Even if one of my friends is Bleiten?” I dropped the B-bomb.

King Jovan didn't say anything for a good two minutes, but when he did speak, it was surprisingly reasonable. “Like you, I shall need some time to investigate and decide how I feel about certain things. Arc Kyrian has brought several truths to light and some of those involve the Bleiten. If you have a friend who is a member of that race, and he or she has proven themselves to you, I will try to accept them. But I cannot promise that our interactions will go smoothly.”

“Well, that was more than I expected from you,” I itted. “It gives me hope for a future relationship between us.”

“Because of a Bleiten?” Jovan asked with as much surprise as I had shown. “Then I'm grateful to this Bleiten too. Amara, you are welcome on Eden anytime. I will have Arc Kyrian provide you with ways to me, and he will bring you here as soon as you decide to visit.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for sending an honorable man to watch over me. Without Kyrian, things could have gone very differently.”

“I'm glad that you think so,” he said cheerily, “because Kyrian will be staying on Earth as your personal bodyguard for as long as you remain there.”

“What?” I asked and then gaped at the phone.

“As I said; you're a duchess now, sweetheart,” Jovan declared delightedly. “You're required to have an entire royal guard, but I get the feeling that you wouldn't appreciate that. So, shall we compromise on just Kyrian?”

I looked up at the anxious angel and sighed. “All right; I'll keep him.”

“Excellent!” Jovan exclaimed.

“For now,” I added. “Goodbye, Uncle Jovan. It was nice to finally speak with you.”

“And you, my sweet girl,” he said. “I'll look forward to doing so in person.”

I handed the device back to Kyrian, and he finished his conversation with his king; casting several surprised glances at me as he did so.

“Kyrian is staying?” Malik asked tonelessly.

“It appears so.”

“Very well.” Malik nodded. “But he's not living with us.”

“Excuse me?” I gaped at him.

“I'm sorry, Amara, but I won't feel comfortable with Kyrian living in the same space as us,” Malik explained.

“I think she was more shocked over your presumptions about moving into her place, asshole,” Davorin pointed out. “Dick move.”

Malik lifted his brows at Davorin and then looked at me. “I thought we'd decided

that we were worth it?”

“We did,” I agreed. “But we never decided that meant you'd be moving in with me.”

“I don't understand,” Malik said.

“We haven't even gone on a date yet,” I pointed out.

“Oh, this is getting good,” Lily said and then took another sip of her drink. “I thought the Uncle-thing was fascinating, but dumb-demon-boyfriend is even better.”

Malik grimaced at Lily before refocusing on me. “When a Bleiten couple decides to court, they live together; it allows them to preview what married life would be like.”

“Malik, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Bleiten,” I said primly. “I don't move in with a guy after one kiss; even one as hot as ours was.”

I glanced uncomfortably at Dav and Kyrian; both of them looked unhappy about my revelation but not terribly surprised by it.

“All right.” Malik frowned. “I suppose I can continue living on my ship.”

“Your ship?” I asked with raised brows.

“It's docked just above D.C.,” Malik said.

“With the Triari fleet?” I went on.

“No, they're in space. My ship is about three thousand feet over our heads, protected by an invisibility shield and a warding spell.” Malik shrugged. “No one knows it's there.”

“Oh, okay,” I whispered.

“A spaceship,” Leo said. “That's awesome. Can we have a tour?”

Malik looked up at Leo. “I'm having an intimate conversation with my...” He paused and looked at me for help. “What's the English word for 'dvarra?'”

“Girlfriend,” I said and sighed. “I guess I can agree to that much.”

Malik chuckled as he shook his head. “You're going to make me work for every inch, aren't you?”

“You've got a lot to learn about Amara if that surprises you, Prince Malik,” President Colton said as he ed us. Then, to all of us, he announced, “Military forces, EMTs, and whatever remains of my staff are on their way. It will be a long process to recover from this, but America will survive; it always does.”

“Yes, Sir,” Davorin said proudly.

“I may have a new branch of security to add to our defenses,” Colton went on with a thoughtful look at Davorin and his crew. “All of you have talents that have proved useful today; some of you have skills that flat-out shocked me.” He transferred his stare pointedly to me. “If you're willing; our country could use your help. Not constantly, but in times of great need; like today. Would any of you be willing to become a part of a secret unit dedicated to stopping threats of such magnitude that they're beyond the capabilities of us humans?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Davorin said immediately. “It would be my honor to help.”

“That's sort of what we do; just on a much smaller scale,” Leo added. “I'm in.”

“And me,” Jason said.

“Well, of course,” Lily said.

Then they looked at me.

“Oh, for pity's sake,” I huffed and looked at Malik and then Kyrian. “Only if you two agree to as well.”

Malik and Kyrian shared considering looks, and then they shrugged and nodded.

“It's settled then,” Colton declared. “I'll let you know when we have it prepared.”

“Fine.” I grimaced. “But I'm not wearing a uniform.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Later that evening, at a celebration in The Wilds, we watched the coverage of the “terrorist attack on the White House.” According to the news, an Afghani man had sought sanctuary in the U.S. and his request had been granted, but once here, his pleas for justice had been ignored. He harbored resentment against the U.S. Government and collected a force of fellow Afghani refugees with similar grievances. This group then attacked the White House; believing that if they controlled the President, they could control the country. Ghoul was described as a lunatic and a sort of mad scientist who had massacred most of the White House staff present at the time of the attack, with exception to President Colton; who he kept as a hostage, and who also valiantly fought back and killed the Afghani leader.

I smiled at the screen when they cut to President Colton's speech about the incident. He looked handsome and heroic while he spoke humbly about the people who were the “true heroes” and how all he did was grab a gun when the opportunity presented itself. The way the President looked into the camera seemed to convey the deeper meaning behind his message; that real heroes don't get accolades, but that's not why they save people, is it?

And us real heroes knew the truth about the attack. Less than twenty minutes after Ghoul and his Ghoulies were killed, a parade of military vehicles sped up to the White House to “save the President from terrorists” when they were actually coming to pick up the pieces. With them were the lucky of the White House staff who had been absent that day or had miraculously managed to escape while Ghoul was releasing his bioweapon. Among the absentees was Secretary of State, Annette Johnson; who brought an army of secret service agents with her. Unfortunately, the Vice President had been killed along with Agent Washburn and his entire team, hundreds of agents and staffers, and fourteen Triari.

Ghoul and his minions had infiltrated the White House through a back entrance; using a combination of supernatural abilities to quietly kill and trick their way to the HVAC system. They blocked the vents leading to the Oval Office and then released the bioweapon into the air conditioning. It took them less than ten minutes to reach their first destination; they were obviously prepared and knew exactly where they were going.

When everyone outside the Oval was dead, Ghoul had stormed the Oval Office and killed everyone inside except for the President. President Colton had to watch his secretary, two aides, his two personal secret service agents: Dawson and Craig, and the Vice President die in horrific ways. But Colton had stayed sane and competent throughout the ordeal and avenged them in the end. The man continued to amaze me.

“I'll have to take the bodies of my men home to their families,” Malik murmured as he took the seat beside mine at the bar.

Malik had just returned from his ship; he had to prepare a place to hold the bodies. While there, he had changed into some fresh clothes and put on some new boots. I noted the dampness of his hair and assumed that he showered as well. I had done the same while he was gone; freshening up in the hopes that we might have some time alone together. But now, Malik was talking about leaving.

“Of course,” I said with a little disappointment.

“It shouldn't take me long, and my father will most likely understand my request for a leave of absence,” he went on. “I'll be gone a week at most.”

“Okay.”

“Would it be acceptable if I spent tonight with you in your home... even though we haven't been on a date yet?”

“I think that would be acceptable,” I murmured as a blush crept over my face. “Since this is such an extraordinary situation.”

“Be careful; you're showing your true colors, Spectra,” Malik teased me as he stroked my cheek.

“I was trying to be honest with you.” I looked up at him.

“I appreciate that.” Malik leaned in to kiss me, and when he pulled back, he whispered, “But you haven't told me everything about your abilities, have you? It seems as if the whole Supermarket knows, everyone except for Kyrian and I.”

“I've made some assumptions,” Kyrian said as he sat on my other side. “She can cast illusions, obviously.”

“And see auras. Can you change them as well?” Malik asked.

I nodded. “I can alter colors; the colors people see, how they see them, the

wavelengths themselves, and even the colors in auras. If it has something to do with color, I can manipulate it.”

“Thus the illusions,” Kyrian noted. Then he frowned. “Why did you need to be rescued? How did Traegur even catch you in the first place?”

“They came in quick and blindfolded me,” I said. “My one weakness is actually a big one; if I can't see, I can't control color.”

Malik nodded, but Kyrian continued to stare at me oddly.

“Has the fleet left yet?” I asked him.

“Yes,” Kyrian said. “I've kept my personal spacecraft here, but the rest of the Host has gone home. Oh, and here's the device that King Jovan promised you.”

Kyrian placed a Triari communication device on the bar and slid it over to me.

“This is a simple unit,” Kyrian said. “It's programmed to call King Jovan with this button”—he pointed to a button on the left—“and me with this one.” He pointed to a button on the right. “This one is to hang up or answer.” Kyrian tapped the middle button. “Got it?”

“Sure,” I took the device and slipped it in my purse. “Thank you.”

“And don't worry, Malik; I'll look after our girl while you're gone,” Kyrian said with a smirk.

“I'm sure you will,” Malik said. “And I'm glad she'll have you, Arc Kyrian. You did well today; proved yourself to be a fearsome warrior.”

“Thank you,” Kyrian said in surprise. “I still don't think Amara should be with you, but we Triari are long-lived, and I can afford to wait.”

“Amara and I will outlive you all; wait as long as you like.” Malik grinned wickedly as he stood. “Would you care to dance, Duchess Mara?”

“There's not much of a dance space here,” I glanced around the crowded bar; it looked as if every supe in the Market had come to celebrate with us.

“We'll make do.” Malik smiled sensuously, and I gave in.

Kyrian grimaced while Malik helped me off my stool and then escorted me to an open spot near the front door. It was just below a speaker set into the ceiling and the soft sound of a love song drifted over us. Malik pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me, and I laid my cheek to his chest as we started to sway.

“I need you to know that I didn't lie to you,” I said into his coat. “They did come to the conclusion that my blood couldn't be used to recreate the elixir.” I chewed at my lip and then decided to tell him everything; just go all-in. “How they

reached that conclusion is the part that I kept to myself.” I looked up and found Malik staring at me curiously. “I tricked the Triari.”

“You tricked them?” Malik asked in surprise. “How?”

“When they tried to take my blood, I created an illusion,” I whispered as I sent a glance Kyrian's way. “I made it appear that they were drawing blood from my arm when, in fact, they were taking their own blood.”

Malik chuckled. “That's devious, my dear.”

“Thank you,” I said distractedly. “When they came to the conclusion that my blood was useless to them, I thought it was the perfect chance to get both races off my back.”

“I would have done the same,” he said. “And it wasn't technically lying because you simply reported their findings. I understand, Amara, and I even approve. They never took your blood, and now—because of your quick thinking—they never will.”

“But that's not all,” I said. “One of the scientists mentioned that races who use blood to heal themselves might be able to use my blood as it is. That's why I fed it to you; I was hoping she was right.”

Malik went stopped swaying to stare at me intensely. “If this were to get out, you'd be in terrible danger; both from the Bleiten and the Ungaru.”

“The thought had occurred to me,” I said dryly.

“Yet you still saved my life,” he murmured as his gaze went soft. “You risked yourself to save me. You trusted me.”

“I did,” I said. “I do.”

“I swear to you that I will never forsake your trust,” Malik vowed earnestly. “No matter what happens between us—be it good or bad—I will honor this gift you've given me and keep your secret.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“It's the least that I can do in exchange for immortality.” He laid his forehead briefly to mine and swallowed roughly. When he lifted his face, he was smiling smugly. “I knew we had destiny on our side.”

“Does destiny happen to have an idea of what we should tell people about all this?” I waved my hand toward his eyes. “Because I haven't got a clue.”

“I've actually been thinking about it,” he said as he started to sway us to the music again.

“You have?” I asked in surprise.

“Amara, you've made me a part of your secret,” he said. “Of course I've been thinking about ways to protect it and you.”

“And what have you come up with?” I asked softly.

“A new story.” Malik smiled deviously. “We tell everyone that your father made two vials of elixir; one for you and one for your mother; her being human and short-lived. The night your parents were killed, your mother gave you the last vial and hid you. And you have kept that vial safe for all of these years. You didn't want the Triari or the Bleiten to have it, but then my men and I were attacked, and you decided to use it to save me.”

“That's pretty good,” I whispered. “But there were witnesses; people who saw me giving you my blood.”

“The humans have already been told that you have healing abilities,” Malik pointed out. “As for Landry, I assume that you'll tell him the truth.”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “But what of Davorin and his team?”

“Do you trust them?”

“Yes,” I said immediately.

“Then tell them the truth too,” he said as if it were simple. “We can reserve the lie for Kyrian. He's really the only one we need to worry about.”

“And Davorin will love keeping something from him,” I noted.

“I don't,” Malik murmured. “Kyrian is an honorable man who fought by my side; I don't want to lie to him.”

I blinked at Malik in shock. “I didn't think you liked each other.”

“Like has nothing to do with it,” he said gruffly. “Although, I do like him. Now that I've learned there can be good Triari, I'm open to the idea of friendship with one of them. Who knows? Perhaps there could even be peace between our people someday.”

“And all because you came to Earth in search of immortality,” I whispered.

“And because it was given to me in the most extraordinary way.” Malik took my hand and kissed it tenderly.

“What about your people?” I whispered. “They'll know something has changed with you as soon as they look in your eyes.”

“My eyes aren't a problem,” Malik said. “I'll just cover their color with eye films.”

Eye films?” I asked.

“Like s but easier to put on and far more comfortable,” he explained.

“Oh, of course.” I released a relieved breath. “And you're okay with deceiving your people?”

“If I did, it would jeopardize both of us,” Malik said. “Not that I don't trust my father, but there are people around him who might...”

“Try to trap you and take your blood?” I asked with a smirk.

“Just so.” He smiled back. “The more people who know about this, the more who could let the truth slip. I can't tell the Bleiten how you saved my life, but I will tell them that you did. I want my father to know what kind of woman you are.”

“You mean that you want him to feel indebted to me so that he'll give our relationship his blessing,” I said shrewdly.

“That as well.” Malik laughed. “It will help that you were raised on Earth, but saving his heir will be something my father can't ignore. If nothing else, he will

never disrespect you, and you will be welcome in our home.”

“That's reassuring,” I said. “Although, I should probably visit Eden before I go to Hell.” I made a face. “Wow, that sounded strange.”

“And there is your humanity,” he said with a bright grin. “That will win him over. My father has always liked humans.”

“He has?” I asked in surprise.

“He ires their tenacity and ion,” Malik said with a nod. “He used to tell me that ion can sometimes drive a man to destruction, and so many men fear it. But humans embrace their weaknesses—even those that destroy them. When they've lost everything, they simply start fresh.”

“But the Bleiten came here and fought with the Triari,” I pointed out. “Why bring your war here if you respect us?”

“War goes where it will.” Malik sighed. “But my father has tried to keep it from Earth; it was his father who brought it here.”

“Lucifer the First?”

“That's right.” Malik smiled but it was tight and forced. “He was proud of his infamy and the fear his name inspired. He wanted to perpetuate that. But my

father has spent his life working against his own name; he wants to inspire iration, not fear.”

“Talk about a legacy to live up to,” I murmured. “Or to live down.”

“I suppose that's why he likes humans,” Malik mused. “Humans reinvent themselves all the time.”

“If only we weren't so cruel to each other,” I said softly.

“That's the way of all people.” Malik shrugged. “Even the Triari. We are individuals who happen to be born on the same planet; sometimes we love each other and sometimes we hate.”

“But both of your races have kings,” I said with confusion. “Aren't Eden and Hell united under a single rule?”

“They are, but there are always discontents; people who think that they can do a better job at ruling,” he said. “A king must constantly fight for and against his people.”

“That's rather sad,” I whispered.

“My father says that he'd rather rule people who have the strength to rise against him than those who have been beaten into submission,” Malik said. “A king

leads, while a dictator suppresses.”

“Your father sounds like a wise man,” I said. “And a good one.”

“He is.” Malik smiled proudly. He's even become open to changing some things with the Horde. He sees that we must move forward, and he's not too proud to accept advice.”

“Changing,” I whispered as I blinked. “You're the son who's been making changes?”

“You heard about me?” He lifted a sin-black brow.

“Kyrian mentioned it.” I shrugged.

“Interesting,” Malik murmured. “I didn't know that the Triari were so aware of our politics.”

I cocked my head at him in question, but he just shook his. Then he glanced to our left and chuckled.

“I suppose I shall have to get used to men casting angry glances at me,” Malik murmured.

I looked up and saw Davorin standing across the room; leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was shooting daggers at Malik with his eyes. I sighed and settled back against Malik. I felt bad about Davorin and Kyrian; I cared about both of them now. But I couldn't be with them all, and Malik was the greatest mystery. I knew what it would be like with Davorin, and I had a pretty good idea what a relationship with Kyrian would entail, but Malik... I had a feeling that every day would reveal something new about him and possibly even myself. I needed to discover what we would become together.

“The front door is two steps away,” Malik whispered in my ear. “Shall we sneak away?”

I looked up and smiled at Malik; let the revelations begin.

Chapter Forty-Eight

As soon as my front door was locked behind us, Malik scooped me up and started for the stairs. His heavy boots pounded on the wooden landing, and then he paused.

“The second door,” I said as I nuzzled the thick cords in his neck all the way up to his ear.

Malik breathed out in a sexy rumble as he carried me into my bedroom and headed straight for the queen-sized bed. Instead of laying me down upon it, though, he set me on my feet. I kicked off my heels as he started to undress me. I was beginning to regret going with the casual look of jeans and a loose T-shirt. It was hindering our progress. But Malik enjoyed a challenge and instead of becoming frustrated with the delay, he relished it.

Malik took his time undoing the button and then unzipping my jeans to reveal the white lace of my panty beneath. I sucked in a breath when he rubbed the pads of his thumbs over the lace as he growled low in his throat—more vibration than sound. Then Malik slipped his fingers between the thick denim and my belly and eased his hands out toward my hips. He pushed down steadily; massaging my thighs as he drew the thick material lower and lower. By the time it was around my ankles, Malik was crouched before me; his face on the same level with the lace. But he turned his head to the side—just brushing his chin against that sensitive area—and looked down as he removed my jeans.

I stepped free of the jeans and started to pull off my shirt, but Malik made a growling sound and grabbed my hands; giving me a teasing glare. I laughed

softly and released the fabric so that he could remove it himself. The warlord grinned triumphantly as he slipped his hands beneath the T-shirt and hooked his thumbs around the bottom edge. He pushed it up as he coasted his palms over my breasts slowly. His eyes darkened to iris as my bra was revealed. Malik quickly cast the shirt aside while he kept his gaze on my lingerie.

“Lovely,” Malik whispered as he trailed his fingertips over the top of my breasts.

I placed my hand over his to stop him, and Malik looked up in question.

“Take your boots off,” I said.

Malik lifted a dark brow at me but reached down and removed his boots and socks; tossing them aside casually—like he had everything else. I instantly moved forward and lifted the bottom edge of his shirt. Malik helped me get it over his head; he was too tall for me to do it on my own. And then a smooth expanse of muscled chest was out on full display. I ran my hands over the golden-brown curves; learning each dip and crevice as I ired the tattoo in the middle of his chest. I ran a fingernail over the intricate lines of his crown and then up the swirls of fire that consumed it.

“I'm afraid of fire,” I whispered and then looked up into Malik's concerned eyes. “Except for yours. When you shifted, and I saw those flames run across your skin, it was the first time since I was a little girl that fire didn't scare me.”

“I'm relieved to hear you say so.” Malik briefly lowered his forehead to mine. “I couldn't bear it if I frightened you. Although, it surprises me that anything would scare you. Is it because of your parents?”

I nodded. “I think I may be able to get past that now.” Then I tapped the crown. “Is this a mark of your lineage?”

“Indisputable proof of my claim to the throne,” he confirmed. “It's a direct connection to my father. When he dies, it will shift; the fire will summon me home to take his place.” He laid his hand over mine. “If I'm accepted.”

“I can't imagine anyone finding you lacking,” I murmured.

“A Triari dvarra may change things,” Malik said softly.

I went still. “Are you telling me that you're risking the crown to be with me?”

“Of course. I thought you understood that.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I whispered.

“Amara, you're worth a thousand crowns,” Malik bracketed my face with his hands and leaned down to kiss me. “I don't know how to explain it, but when I touch you, I feel as if I'm holding eternity in my hands. Our eternity. I don't care what I have to renounce or who I have to oppose to share forever with you; it would be nothing in comparison to what we can have together.”

I exhaled an amazed breath as I stared up at Malik in wonder. Had more romantic words ever been spoken? Not to me.

“I hope it won't come to that, but if we are not meant to live in peace, then I will fight beside you,” I vowed as I slid my hands down his hard stomach.

Malik's breath quickened as his hands tightened on my body. I lifted my face for another kiss, but his pants were unusual, and I ended up pulling away to focus on them. Malik's soft laughter shook his chest as he watched me fumble with the hook closure and then the ties beneath that. But he stopped laughing when the garment fell free and my hands slid over the curves of his ass.

“No underwear,” I whispered as I glanced down.

“No,” he said. “And it's time we rid you of yours.”

Malik picked me up again and laid me down on the bed. I ired his trim waist and the bulges of his biceps as he crawled over me. His shaft was thick and hard between us, and he positioned it against me as he shifted my legs apart. Malik lowered his head to kiss me as my breathing began to quicken, and I ran my hands over the breadth of his shoulders; pulling him closer. But he only teased me by rubbing himself against me and working me into a slick state.

I moaned into his mouth and angled my hips upward, but Malik just deepened our kiss and pushed me back into the mattress; using the motion to spread my thighs wider. He moved his kiss down my neck and then his sharp teeth were nibbling their way across my chest as I wrapped my legs around his waist and scraped my fingernails down his back. The slow pace was sending hot and cold

shivers over my skin, but he wouldn't give in to my urging.

“I think I've had enough enjoyment from these,” Malik murmured as he ran his hand down my torso; from breasts to belly.

He slipped the straps of my bra down my shoulders but couldn't figure out how to remove it. I chuckled as the tables were turned and reached behind my back to help him. Malik's smile brightened as the lace slipped away, and he instantly replaced it with his warm, wet mouth. I arched up into him; holding his head to me as I felt a tug at my hip. A glance down showed that he'd shifted a single finger and used his claw to snap the thin side of my panty.

Malik looked up at me with a wicked grin. “I'll buy you more.”

“I don't care about the panties,” I said urgently. “Just get them off me.”

Malik's grin widened as he snapped the other side and then pulled the fabric away. The talon shifted back into a finger as he slid his hand between my legs and then began a gentle rubbing. I groaned and clutched at Malik as he kissed his way down my belly; the tips of his teeth scraping lightly against my skin. Then, with his hot stare locked on mine, he lowered his mouth to my sex.

I cried out and writhed beneath him; waves of pleasure flowing out from Malik's persuasive tongue. That talented piece of flesh swirled and flicked and thrust until my lips started to go dry from my gasping breaths, and my thighs tightened with tremors. My fingers grasped at Malik's silky hair while he continued to take me higher and higher, until finally—when I thought I couldn't stand the pleasure of it anymore—he lifted himself up and slid inside me.

I was so sensitive from his ministrations—so wet with wanting—that Malik's member moved all the way to the hilt with a single thrust. I instantly clasped him to me tightly; one hand grasping the rounded curve of his ass to pull him even closer. But then Malik began a wild thrusting that I wasn't expecting. To go from a slow, tender seduction to this savage pounding was enough to make my head spin in the best of ways. All I could do was hold on and hope I survived.

But I was immortal, wasn't I? We both were. And as my bed creaked and groaned from the abuse, I groaned with pleasure and finally found enough purchase to lift my hips and meet his thrusts with my own ferocity. Malik growled and slid his arms behind my back to lift me up until I was seated on his lap. He continued driving himself up into me while I got to my knees to use the angle to drop down on him.

The bed slammed into the wall, bits and baubles fell from my dresser to roll across the rug, and then a painting went crashing to the floor. But I didn't care. I shoved Malik onto his back and straddled him. He was making savage sounds that urged me on, and he bared his teeth at me as I slammed down onto him. I had never been so wild in bed—never felt this sense of urgent need—but now, I couldn't stop slamming myself onto him. I couldn't seem to reach that brilliant apex fast enough. And when I did—when I screamed through the ecstasy of it and fell forward with the violent shivers surging through me—it was only to catch my breath. In moments, I was quaking with desire again.

Malik flipped us over and rolled me onto my belly before he roughly yanked me onto my hands and knees. He barely took a second to position himself before he was thrusting into me again, and I knew that he felt the same mindless drive I did; the demand of our bodies to reach that pleasure together. I braced myself with one hand on the mattress and one on the wall as Malik grabbed my hips and brought us toward that pinnacle with furious thrusts and grasping hands.

Finally, the elusive climax came, and we shouted out together. Malik's hands clenched on my hips as his body tightened and emptied into mine. Rolling, pulsing pleasure filled me; rushing beneath my skin to tingle in every sensitive place I had. Colors burst before my eyes as our auras mingled and exploded together; a sparkling shower of lusty red, vibrant splashes of delighted orange, stripes of loyal blue, and a sprinkling of loving rose. There was already love between us. How miraculous was that?

I wasn't going to ruin the moment by saying anything to Malik about it, but as he shifted to the side and pulled me into the curve of his embrace, I smiled in blissful satisfaction. My demon prince was full of surprises; just as I'd suspected. I hoped that he never stopped surprising me; not for all eternity.

Chapter Forty-Nine

The next morning, after Malik and I had breakfast, we went back to The Wilds to collect Malik's men. Landry had the Bleiten soldiers laid out in a storage room with blankets respectfully draped over each body.

“Thank you for looking after them,” Malik said to Landry. “Your kindness will not be forgotten.”

“Just repay that kindness to my daughter, and we'll be even,” Landry said with a weighted look.

“I treasure her already,” Malik said softly. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“I see that,” Landry said and sighed deeply. “But simply being who you are might do her harm.”

“No; it will not,” Malik vowed firmly.

Landry stared hard at Malik and finally nodded.

“Well, I'm relieved that's over with,” I huffed.

“Deal with it, kid,” Landry said. “That's what happens when people care about you.”

“I'll that when you get a new girlfriend,” I said cryptically.

Landry grimaced; his last girlfriend had done a number on him, and I'd given her stomach issues for a week. Landry didn't know about my colorful revenge, but I'm sure he suspected.

“What are you doing?” I asked Malik as I watched him adhere metal discs to the walls of Landry's storeroom.

“Setting up a transporter,” he said.

Malik stuck the discs on opposite walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Then he pulled out a little controller and pushed a button on it. The discs lit up and blue light flashed out to connect them. It created a sheet of pulsing energy between them that nearly obscured everything behind it. Malik lifted one of the bodies in his arms and strode through that sheet. He disappeared within the light but returned a few moments later to collect another body. Landry and I watched the process with fascination; neither of us had seen a transporter in action before, much less a portable one.

When Malik had transferred all but one of his men to his ship, he turned to me to say goodbye.

“I'll be back as soon as I can,” he promised.

“Okay,” I whispered as Landry quietly left the room.

“Do you think you'd be able to set this up in your home?” Malik waved at the discs. “Somewhere out of the way? Then I wouldn't have to pilot a pod down to Earth, I could transport directly from my craft.”

“Of course,” I said. “It looks simple enough.”

“Thank you,” Malik murmured and then frowned. “I don't know how to say goodbye to you.”

“I think you just did.”

“No; I mean... I don't want to leave.”

“I don't want you to go either, but it has to be done. Their families deserve closure.” I nodded toward the last body. “I'll be here when you get back, and we can start up right where we left off.”

“I have your word?”

I blinked in surprise. “You don't need it, but yes; you have my word.”

Malik visibly relaxed.

“Did you really think I'd leave you for someone else right after we shared that amazing night together?” I asked.

“It was amazing, wasn't it?” Malik started to smile.

“Eternity, ?” I smiled back at him, “I think I can wait a few weeks in light of that. I'll even put the transporter in my bedroom.”

His smiled brightened. “I'll look forward to stepping through it.”

Then Malik pulled me into a tender kiss that he ended before it got too ionate.

“Amara, I...”

“Me too,” I whispered. “Hurry back, Mal.”

“Mal?” He asked and chuckled. “As my lady commands.”

Then he picked up the final body, stepped through the energy sheet, and disappeared. A few moments later, it zipped off and the lights went dark. I sighed deeply as I collected the discs.

“And just like that; he's gone,” I whispered.

“I'm sure he'll return with all speed,” Kyrian said as he stepped into the room.

“Kyrian,” I murmured as I stood from collecting the last disc.

“Hello, Amara,” Kyrian said. His halo was in place again. “I asked Landry if I could set up my transporter in The Wilds, and he directed me to this room. I'll be staying on my ship, and I needed a stable location to jump to.”

“That sounds familiar,” I said as I stepped back. “You might want to place it further back in the room; the front section gets accessed more often.”

“All right.” He stepped past me and set up something similar to Malik's transporter, except Kyrian's was composed of thin, clear rods that unfolded to make a freestanding doorway. “It won't work until I turn it on so there's no chance of someone accidentally falling through.”

“Good to know,” I said and started to leave.

“Amara.” Kyrian laid a hand on my shoulder. “I don't want you to think that I forgot about the conversation we were meant to have.”

“I know that you haven't forgotten, Kyrian,” I said softly. “But—”

“But things have changed,” he cut me off. “I understand. I don't think you're making the right choice, but I respect you, and so I must respect your decision.”

“Thank you.”

“That being said,” he went on, “I cannot continue to watch over you with so much left unsaid between us. So, I will say it to you once, and then you can do with it as you will.”

“Kyrian, it doesn't have to be said.” I laid my hand on his arm. “I've seen it in your aura. I know how you feel.”

“Colors can't express everything, Amara,” Kyrian said sternly. “I love you. You are unlike any woman I've ever known. You're brave, graceful, stubborn, beautiful, and powerful in the most elegant way. The sound of your voice makes my heart speed up, the scent of you makes me shiver, and the sight of you is nearly enough to drive me to my knees. I have never felt such wondrous things before, and never been hurt so deeply, but the pain is worth the wonder. I love you, Amaranthine Madison, and I won't stop. Not because of the Bleiten Prince or the Stone Man or even you, the cynical superhero. My heart has been given and that is final.”

“Kyrian, I...”

“You don't need to say anything.”

“You get to say all of that, but I don't get to say anything?” I asked in irritation.

He laughed; a sudden, surprised sound. “I'm sorry, Amara, what would you like to say to me?”

“You're an amazing man, Kyrian,” I said softly. “I don't know how I managed to inspire love from you, and I don't know if I'll ever be in a position to love you back, but I'd be a liar if I said that I didn't want your affection. You're honorable, kind, strong, and one of the most beautiful men I've ever met. I do want you; I want you very much. But I also want Davorin, and I especially want Malik. But we can't have everything we want, can we? So, I made a decision, and I'm happy with it. I'll do my best to be mindful of the way you feel and not be cruel, but I'm not changing my mind.”

Kyrian smiled and nodded. “I understand, but life has a way of changing our minds for us. I'll wait for it to change yours.”

“Fair enough.”

“Now, back to my mission,” he said. “It really would be best if I could lodge in one of your spare bedrooms. Nothing lecherous; it will simply be easier for me

to watch over you.”

“Kyrian, I think we both know that I don't need watching over,” I said gently. “I'm allowing this situation because I don't want to argue with my uncle before we've met in person. But you're not going to stay in my home, and you're not going to follow me around.”

“Well, you've got half of that right,” Kyrian said calmly.

“Have you forgotten so soon?” I asked him with a shake of my head.

“Forgotten what?” He asked with a frown.

I wrapped myself in the colors of the room and ran out the door. I heard Kyrian cursing in Triari behind me, but I was out of The Wilds before he made it out of the back room. I laughed all the way home. Again.

Some men never learn.

Chapter Fifty

Four days later, Davorin, Lily, Leo, Jason, Kyrian, Malik, and I were invited back to the White House. Malik hadn't returned yet, but the rest of us accepted the invitation. We were picked up by secret service agents in nondescript black vehicles and driven to the White House, where we were led through several layers of security. The White House was buzzing with activity, but it was supervised and tense.

Despite the measures taken by the Secret Service to defend the White House against supernatural attack, their defenses had been breached easily. They were having to up their game and do it quickly. At the moment, the ambiance was half war-room and half war-zone. Men in black lined the halls—hands nervously clenching and eyes constantly scanning—and istrative staff scurried about with armloads of papers and frantic expressions. Most of them were new hires who'd been thrown in the deep end, and all of them eyed us with a mix of wariness and relief.

“This doesn't look good,” Davorin whispered to me.

I just shook my head; it was about what I'd been expecting.

We were escorted to a large meeting room where the President was speaking with several people, including the Secretary of State, Annette Johnson. I didn't recognize the others but some of them had the unmistakable bearing of exmilitary.

“Thank you all for coming,” President Colton said to us warmly as he came over to shake our hands. “Under the circumstances, we've been able to rush through the process of creating a new special operations team. Please, have a seat, and we'll go over the details with you.” Then he frowned and looked over us again. “Where's Prince Malik?”

“He's taken his dead warriors home for burial,” I said.

“Oh.” Colton nodded somberly. “Yes, of course. Please convey my deepest condolences to him when you next speak. I'm afraid that I wasn't aware that I should have expressed them when I saw him last.”

“I'll let him know.” I nodded.

“All right, let's get to it,” Colton said. “I'm sure you've noticed the increased activity around here. We're in the process of redeg several things; security being our biggest concern. The first thing we did was move the transporter to another location.”

“But that's not how they got in, is it?” I asked in surprise.

“No,” Colton said. “They came in using a combination of supernatural skills that we're now trying to find ways to counteract. But that's not what you're here for. Let me introduce you first to Terrence McKinley, Chairman of the t Special Operations Command.” Colton waved a hand at a barrel-chested man in his late sixties with ruddy skin and a balding head.

“JSOC; that includes all of the special ops units,” Davorin said with interest.

“That's right, son,” the Chairman said. “We handle t special operations tactics using the elite forces of our military, and we'd like you to become one of those elite forces.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Kyrian asked. “I can't commit myself indefinitely or completely to America. I'm first and foremost an Arc; here only to watch over Duchess Amara.”

I winced a little at the title; I was still getting used to it.

“We understand that,” Colton said. “This is a special situation and your team will have more leeway than other military units. Not only that, but you'll also be working with both the Department of Defense and the Department of Homeland Security. When needed, you will work with the DOD, but for the most part, you will be working with the DHS, in their newest division; the Supernatural Service. This is Miranda Holmes, Secretary of Homeland Security.”

Colton indicated a fifty-ish woman with dark hair, brown eyes, a fair complexion, and gray stripes at her temples. She was dressed smartly but not extravagantly, and she looked as if she ate men like the Chairman for breakfast.

“If you choose to us, you'll be the first team in our Supernatural Service,” Miranda said with a proud smile. “You will be leading the way for other supernaturals to come forth and serve their country.”

“You'll be given a monthly salary and a who will be more of a liaison than a commanding officer,” President Colton continued. “When a threat arises, you will be called in to consult with your Supernatural Service Unit and then determine what actions need to be taken. If for any reason you're unable to help, you will need to give good cause, but we can be flexible in that regard as well.”

“You're saying that we'll be on the Government's payroll but will retain an independent contractor's right of refusal?”

“Just so,” Colton said. “In fact, you'll be listed as 'armed contract protective security officers.' This is in its early stages so we may ask to change the arrangement later. But basically, we want you to be available for action at a moment's notice. To do so, you can't be distracted by a day job. We're willing to you if you will America.”

“Does that mean that I won't be doing my interpreting work anymore?” I asked Colton.

“Translating supernatural languages is one of your talents, Amara,” President Colton said. “I'll still need you for that, but your other work will take precedence.”

“All right,” I agreed. “That sounds more than fair.”

“And the rest of you?” Colton asked the others.

“We've secretly been ing this city for free, Mr. President,” Lily said. “If you want to make honest superheroes out of us, I'm all for it.”

Davorin, Leo, and Jason nodded in agreement.

President Colton chuckled. “Superheroes? I like the sound of that. Miranda, would you care to explain their superheroic duties?”

“Yours will be the first unit within the Supernatural Service. As such, it will be known as the First Extraordinary Abilities Regiment: FEAR for short,” Secretary Holmes began.

I exchanged amused glances with the others.

“Yes; it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?” Miranda asked with a grin. “You'll be tasked with special missions involving the security of this country and perhaps even that of the entire world.” She nodded to the Chairman to take over.

“We may send you on t tactical missions with other units such as SEAL Team Six and the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta,” the Chairman said. “We may also send you out as a lone unit or even a single agent. These will doubtless be dangerous missions, but we will offer you as much as we can and send you in only where your talents are needed. For your work with the JSOC, you will be liaising with Lieutenant General Jack Oneal.”

He waved a hand at an older African American man with curly, graying hair and

a weathered face.

“I'm sorry, did you say 'Oneal?'” Leo asked as he looked pointedly at the Lt General.

“I was adopted,” Lt General Oneal said dryly.

“Oh,” Leo murmured. “Sure. Sorry.”

“But since we're talking about names,” Lt General Oneal went on with a glance and a nod at the Chairman, “you will each be given a codename. We understand that several of you have already been using aliases, and we find these to be acceptable: Gargoyle, Maestro, Tempest, and Veritas.” He nodded at Davorin, Leo, Lily, and Jason in order and then looked at Kyrian and me. “Do you two have a preference?”

“I'm fine with Arc,” Kyrian said.

“Arc, it is,” Oneal agreed. “And you, Ms. Madison?”

I sighed deeply as Davorin chuckled.

“I told you that you needed a superhero name,” Dav said with glee.

“Spectra,” I said grudgingly. “You can call me Spectra.”

“Excellent choice,” Oneal said. “And what about Prince Malik?”

Davorin, Leo, and Jason started tossing out names like Hellion, Demonspawn, and Dante. I just rolled my eyes and waited for them to tire themselves out. Finally, after the list became achingly ridiculous, and the Lt General was looking to the President for help, an acceptable codename came from the most unlikely person.

“Call him 'Nightshade,'” Kyrian said. “It's the English translation of his surname.”

“I hadn't realized it, but you're right,” I said in surprise. “And Malik can't argue with that.”

“Huh,” Davorin huffed. “I figured it meant 'Morningstar' or something more devilish. Not a pretty flower.”

“A deadly plant,” I corrected him and then blinked in surprise. “With violet flowers,” I added in a whisper. “How prophetic.”

“Thank you, Arc Kyrian,” Lt General Oneal said gratefully as he wrote down Malik's new codename. “We have kits of specialized equipment for all of you; computers, cell phones, bug detectors, surveillance gear, and so forth. Please go through these as soon as possible and use them to clear your homes. If you

prefer, we can have a professional team conduct a search for you.”

We all shook our heads; no one wanted strangers in their personal space.

“For DHS, your liaison will be the new Under Secretary of Homeland Security for Supernatural Service; Mr. Alexander Connolly,” Secretary Holmes introduced the man beside her.

Under Secretary Connolly was surprisingly young, but he still looked older than the President. He was in his early forties perhaps, with dirty-blond hair, blue eyes the color of faded denim, and a tan that looked as if it had been earned from a hard day's work rather than a leisurely day at the beach.

“I'm excited to get to know and work with all of you,” Connolly said. “I'm still interviewing people to comprise your team, but I intend to get you the best of the best.”

“Thank you, Alex,” President Colton said and then looked back at us. “Annette has some paperwork for you to sign and then Alex will take you to get your badges made.”

“Superheroes with badges,” Davorin whispered to me with an impressed look. “We're legit.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. What had I gotten myself into?

Secretary Annette Johnson ed out the paperwork, and we all signed. Yes; I signed as well, despite my misgivings. Only Malik's papers were left in the Secretary's folder. I hoped he signed them; I was looking forward to seeing what his badge would look like.

“Welcome to the fold, FEAR,” President Colton declared.

It was all I could do to hold in my groan. Landry was going to give me so much shit over this.

Chapter Fifty-One

I thought I had escaped having an awkward conversation with Davorin but later that night, after celebrating with FEAR at The Wilds, he caught up with me. I was heading out of the ladies' room, and Davorin was waiting in the hallway outside.

“This is kind of creepy, darling,” I said to him. “You shouldn't lurk outside the ladies' room.”

“It was the only way I could think of to catch you alone,” he itted. “Can we talk?”

“Come along then.”

I headed back out to the bar but then angled around it and into Landry's office. Davorin followed me in and shut the door behind him.

“What if he doesn't return?” Davorin started off with a bang.

“Wow; you're going straight for the jugular,” I noted. “Okay. Well, Malik will come back. But, for sake of argument, if he doesn't, I will need some time to think things through. I'm not going to jump into bed with someone else.”

“You know it's never been about sex with me,” Davorin said. “If that's all I wanted, I would have given up on you years ago.”

“I do know that,” I itted. “But it's only been recently that I've started seeing you as someone I could be interested in romantically so I suppose it seems fresh to me.”

“And it seems to me as if you cut me off before you gave me a real chance,” he said.

“I had to make a choice,” I said simply. “I'm sorry that it wasn't you.”

“It is me,” he protested. “We have something real, and I wish you would let me prove it to you. People date, Amara. You don't have to settle on Malik immediately.”

“I know,” I said gently. “But it's gone past casual dating with us, and I'm not the sort of woman to sleep with more than one man at a time.”

“I see,” he whispered.

“I do care about you, Dav,” I itted. “If things were different, I think we might do well together. But...”

“There's Malik.”

“There's Malik,” I confirmed. “He's what I want right now. I don't know if that will ever change—it very well might—but I'm not going to string you along on the off-chance that Malik and I don't work out.”

“All right, Mara,” he gave in with a sigh. “I gave it one last try. If you're intent on the Bleiten, I won't interfere again, and I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

“Thank you, Dav,” I whispered and then hugged him.

Chapter Fifty-Two

The next night was Halloween.

Supernaturals loved Halloween; not for any kind of religious reasons, but because they could walk among humans as themselves without the fear of discovery. It was one of the few times that the Market became a ghost town. Landry and Mama even closed up shop for the night.

Every year, Landry, Mama, and I went out for a nice dinner in D.C. and then strolled the streets. This year, Davorin, Kyrian, Lily, Jason, Leo, and Leo's girlfriend, Julie came with us. Landry and Mama dressed casually, and I usually did as well, but Davorin and the gang talked me into being more festive this year. Even Kyrian agreed to wear his wings out so I couldn't be the only spoilsport. But I had no idea what to wear.

Lily offered to help. She brought an armful of clothes over to The Wilds—where we were all getting ready and doing a little pre-game drinking as Davorin called it—and helped me get dressed in my newly refurbished bedroom. There wasn't a single bloodstain left on the floor or tooth in the wall. Landry said he'd given Cyclone Cleaning—the cleaners who work with the elements to give you that natural clean—a five-star rating on Wassupe (the Market's version of Yelp; like wassup but with a supe twist).

“What exactly am I supposed to be?” I asked Lily as I stared in the mirror.

“Wait for it,” Lily said as she pulled a length of fabric out of her bag and swung

it around my shoulders.

The vibrant colors of the rainbow looked even brighter against the leather pants and bustier she had shoved me into. I frowned at the cape she fastened at my shoulders and then transferred my scowl to her.

“It's your superhero costume!” She declared. “Look; I even ironed an S on the back.”

I turned my back to the mirror to see that there was indeed a black S on the back of my rainbow cape.

“What are you wearing?” Landry asked in horror as he came into the room.

“Her superhero costume!” Lily exclaimed again.

“Lily, darling, saying something loud and with forced excitement does not make it exciting,” I explained patiently. “I can't wear this out in public.”

“Why not?” She whined.

“Because she looks like a gay girl scout,” Landry said.

“A gay girl scout dominatrix,” Davorin added as he ed us. He cocked his head and nodded. “Yeah; I'm totally okay with that.”

“Watch it, stoner,” Landry said to Dav.

“Just because it's colorful, it doesn't make it gay,” Lily protested.

“No; it's the rainbow flag that you've tied to my shoulders that makes it gay,” I said gently. “I look as if I'm about to a parade.”

“At least it's an S on your back and not an L,” Davorin pointed out.

“What's wrong with an L?” Landry asked with an annoyed look at Dav.

“The L word is not Landry,” Davorin said.

“Then what is it?” Landry asked.

Lily pressed her lips together but a giggle still escaped.

“It's lesbian,” I said to Landry. “The L word is lesbian.”

“Oh.” Landry cleared his throat and promptly left.

I took off the cape. “Thank you, Lily, but as much as I gay rights, I'm not actually into women. This seems like false advertising to me.”

“You never know until you try it,” Davorin said with a brow waggle. “Lily's right there. Why don't you give her a smooch just to make sure?”

“So, you think that you should try sex with a man?” I shot back.

“What?” Davorin asked as his expression went blank.

“By your reasoning, people should try everything; even things they are certain they won't enjoy,” I said. “If I should try women, you should try men.”

Lily burst out laughing. “Why don't you give Jason a smooch? He doesn't have a date either. You can be butt-pirates!”

I covered my mouth and tried to hold back my burst of laughter. Davorin, Leo, and Jason had all dressed up like pirates. It had started with Leo; who decided to dress like a pirate to pair with his girlfriend's mermaid costume. Then the other men wanted to do a group costume so they all bought pirate outfits. They had tried to get Lily and me to be mermaids as well, but we refused. Walking around D.C. in October in nothing but shells and scaled lycra was not my idea of a good time. Julie was actually a mermaid; at least, the closest thing to a real mermaid that I've ever met. She could cover her body in scales and breathe water through

a pair of gills on her neck; the cold didn't bother her at all. So, dres as a mermaid was her version of being herself. But back to the pirates. Or back to the butt-pirates, rather.

Davorin grimaced and rolled his eyes. “Why do I even try to be charming around smart women? They're cruel and don't get my humor.”

“That was your idea of charm and humor?” I asked him in a horrified tone. “Oh, darling, you need to work on those.”

Lily launched into another round of laughter.

“Fine.” Davorin held his hands up in surrender. “I know when I'm not wanted.”

He walked out in a huff.

“You're wanted, Dav,” I called after him. “We love to look at you; just don't speak.”

Davorin's annoyed muttering filtered back to us, and Lily and I giggled.

“How about sexy kitty?” Lily asked as she held up a stick of black eyeliner.

I just groaned.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Lily had a cute, cotton, blue, gingham dress in her pile of slutty clothes. So, I put my hair in pigtails and slipped into some bright red heels. A little picnic basket and a stuffed dog completed the look. It wasn't the most perfect impersonation of Dorothy but I liked it. Davorin chuckled when he saw me and said that if I wasn't going to wear a rainbow, the next best thing was to fly over one in a balloon.

Lily had dressed up as a witch—a sexy witch, of course—but it ended up being a perfect accompaniment to my Dorothy. She danced about and cackled about getting me and my little dog too. Whenever she got too annoying, Kyrian would stand between us and open his wings. He was turning out to be quite handy to have around. Although, his wings were so massive that he had to put them away every time we went inside a building.

Despite my doubts, we had a smashing time; quite literally at moments. Davorin turned a guy's beer to stone for asking if he could be my Toto. The man dropped the stone bottle in surprise and it landed on his foot. We hid our smiles as we hurried past the screaming drunk.

Dinner was fantastic. We booked a table at Bourbon Steak; a really great steakhouse on Pennsylvania Avenue. There were a few fine dining establishments in the Supermarket, but they got old by the end of the year and it was nice to be able to go out with my friends and family to someplace special. We ate and drank everything we wanted—that was one of our rules when we went out on Halloween—and we loved every second of it. The only tense moment came when we were leaving the restaurant, and someone asked Mama and Julie if they were Ariel and Ursula.

“Do I look purple to you?” Mama had asked the man—who was dressed as Howard the Duck. “I'm obviously a Kraken, not a sea witch, you featherbrained fowl.”

We had all laughed as the man gaped at Mama and her impressive tentacles, and then we sauntered down the street to check out a costume contest in a bar; a sushi bar, no less. The chef playfully threatened to put Mama on the menu. I leaned over and whispered to her that she was getting more attention than any of us.

“It's the tentacles, deary,” she said to me. “Men love tentacles.”

We had so much fun that I didn't make it home until late that night, or early that morning; depending on how you looked at it. I tottered into my townhouse and kicked off my red shoes—no clicking necessary. Then I paused and peered around me. Something vibrated in the air; a strange energy that left sparkling particles of ultraviolet light. I frowned before I realized what it must be—who it must be—and then I began to smile.

I hurried upstairs to my bedroom; where I had set up Malik's transportation device. And there he was; rubbing a towel over his wet hair. The light in the bathroom was still on and steam was filtering out into the bedroom. Malik had a pair of loose pants on but nothing else, and his chest had droplets of water scattered across it—just begging to be licked off.

“Hello, Nightshade,” I said softly.

Malik grinned brilliantly as he tossed the towel aside and reached me in two

steps. He was about to kiss me when he noticed what I was wearing.

“What's this?” He asked with a confused smile.

“It's Halloween,” I said. “I'm wearing a costume. I'm supposed to be Dorothy; swept up by a tornado and taken to the magical land of Oz.” I held out my arms and twirled to show him the entire look. “What do you think?”

“I think that the only thing sweeping you up will be me,” Malik declared as he swept me into his arms.

“As long as you take me somewhere magical,” I teased him.

“I think I can manage that,” he murmured as his gaze roamed my face.

“It's too bad that you got here so late,” I said as I slicked the damp hair back from his forehead. “It would have been fun to walk around the city with you in your battle-form.”

“You don't think that anyone would notice it was real?” He asked in surprise.

“They didn't notice that Kyrian's wings were real,” I said.

“You were out with Kyrian?” Malik frowned.

“And Landry, Mama, Davorin, Lily, Jason, Leo, and Julie,” I said.

“Oh. All right.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Kyrian does have some impressive wings,” I said with a musing tone.

“Do I need to show you mine again?” Malik offered. “Is this all a ploy to get me to spread my wings for you?”

“Darling, I don't do ploys,” I said as I ran my hands down his arms. “And I don't think my bedroom is big enough for you, me, and your wings.”

“I think we'll be fine,” Malik murmured as he lowered his mouth to mine.

A second later, Malik's wings rose behind him in all of their dark glory. As I shared a searing kiss with him, he wrapped all that demon leather around us and blocked out the rest of the world. There weren't any other words spoken; they

weren't needed anymore. Malik undressed me as I caressed and massaged his naked body. By the time I was as naked as he was, Malik was growling with need. A few urgent strokes were all he could tolerate before he lifted me and eased me down on his shaft. I wrapped my legs around Malik's waist and my arms around his shoulders; holding onto the base of his wings to steady myself as he thrust upward powerfully. Then came the clawing and clenching, the biting and licking, and finally, the shouting and moaning release of our pent-up ions.

After our initial lust was sated, Malik helped me to bed and slipped in behind me; pulling me into the curve of his body as he draped a leg and an arm over me. I sighed and closed my eyes; basking in the scent and feel of him surrounding me. I had known that he would return, but part of me had also doubted. Happiness had eluded me for far too long for me to accept it easily. But there he was; in the massive flesh.

“I think I need to get a bigger bed,” I murmured sleepily.

“I agree,” he said. “Is Nightshade going to be your new nickname for me? I thought it was Mal?”

I laughed. “No; it's your codename.”

“My what?”

“If you choose to become a part of our top secret regiment, you need a codename,” I explained. “Kyrian suggested Nightshade since it's the English translation of Starsiene.”

“It's acceptable,” Malik murmured. “You've already agreed to their ?”

“They're good ,” I said. “You can hear them out later and decide for yourself, but the rest of us have already signed contracts. We are now officially a secret special operations team called the First Extraordinary Abilities Regiment.”

“FEAR?” Malik asked with a chuckle.

“Yes; precisely.”

“I like it,” he murmured against my neck. “But right now, I'm more interested in one particular member of FEAR.”

As Malik continued making his way down my body, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the patterns of light on my ceiling. I didn't know where this new path was going to take me—either with Malik or the First Extraordinary Abilities Regiment—but for the first time in my life, I felt hopeful. I had a new job, a new family, and a new lover; all of them exciting, a little daunting, and very dangerous. But I was Spectra, a cynical superhero, and I didn't fear anything; I was FEAR.

Yep; even in my head, that sounded dumb.

Keep reading for a sneak peek into the next book in the Spectra Series:

A Gray Area

Chapter One

Washington D.C. was bustling with activity despite the snowfall this morning. D.C. isn't the first place people think of when they think “snow” but it gets its fair share. Mid-January was peak season for snow lovers; when we tend to get our heaviest fall. Although, the season has been shortening with global warming. But on this particular January afternoon, Washington D.C. had stuck to its traditional guns and become a white wonderland.

Which may have been why I didn't notice the gray immediately.

I was outside the Supermarket—the secret section of the city that was reserved for supernaturals and hidden from humans—doing some window shopping now that the rush of present-returners had slowed. A handbag had caught my attention, and I paused to ire it through the glass. I preferred classic designs —Chanel, Dior, Gucci—but every now and again, something a little more wild would catch my eye.

I cocked my head and considered the adorable woven bucket bag with its smooth leather trimming and tooled leather flowers adorning the rim. Isabella Fiore did beautiful but unusual handbags, and lately, I was enjoying all things beautiful and unusual. My current love interest was the most unusual man I've ever dated; a Bleiten prince. The Bleiten were a race of alien supernaturals who were better known to humans as Demons. Malik could look very demonic when he wished; all Bleiten had battle-forms that had led to the rise of the demon myths. His was a massive, monstrous body with taloned hands and feet, great leathery wings, and horns upon his head. He also had a tattoo of a crown on fire that literally burned when he shifted into his battle-form. It was his link to his father, King Lucifer, and proof of his royal lineage. I found the whole look terribly arousing; a fact that most women would probably find shocking. But there was something

about Malik in that form; he was fearsome but not to me. I knew Malik would tear off his own wings before he allowed himself to hurt me, and that knowledge made the monster sexy. That and the fact that I loved him.

I smiled as thoughts of Malik replaced the handbag, and I was about to turn away when I saw the reflection of someone ing by behind me.

Perhaps I should explain myself before I tell you about this reflection. There are three types of supernatural: Evolved (also known as Mutants), Transformed (through experiment or accident), and Alien. I was a mix of two: Alien and Transformed. I was half Triari—a race known to humans as Angels. My Triari father had been a scientist—a royal one, no less—and in his efforts to develop a vaccine that would allow his people to colonize a toxic planet, he had created an immortality elixir instead. His brother, the King, wanted to give the elixir to royal Triari and of the Host (their military) who he found deserving of eternal life. My father had disagreed; he thought that no one should be immortal. He destroyed all of his notes and the Amaranthine Elixir and ran.

My father came to Earth, where he met my mother and had me. Everything was great; I was a bright child with an aptitude for languages. But then I started slurring my words, and my parents learned that I had brain cancer. In his desperation, my father brewed up another batch of the Amaranthine Elixir—an elixir that I was ironically named after—and gave it to me. A short time later, a group of Triari—acting without the King's authority—found my father. When he refused to give them the elixir, they killed him and my mother. Then they made it look like a Bleiten attack by burning down our house. I had been hiding in a cabinet at the time, and I probably would have burned to death if it hadn't been for the elixir. And Landry. My father's closest friend braved the fire that could have easily killed him—he's part tree—and saved me. Then he raised me as his own.

My apologies; I've gone off on a tangent. The point I was trying to get to is that

not only did the elixir make me immortal, but it also made me something else. It had been made for pure Triaries, and I was only half. So, in addition to rapid healing, I received the ability to manipulate colors. I could use colors to create illusions, alter auras to hurt, heal, or change a person's mood, and I could see all spectra—from ultraviolet to infrared. Thus my codename: Spectra. But now I've gotten ahead of myself.

Recently, I was recruited by the President of the United States—along with some of my friends and Malik—to protect the U.S. and possibly the World with our abilities. We are the first supernatural special ops team: First Extraordinary Abilities Regiment—F.E.A.R. for short. Previous to that, some friends of mine had been patrolling the streets of D.C. for free; calling themselves superheroes. I had thought that was super ridiculous, but now I was a part of the team. I refuse to call myself a superhero, though; I'm an armed contract protective security officer. Basically, that means that I work for the Government as an independent contractor. Who happens to have a codename.

Back to the reflection.

The man who ed behind me had a reflection completely devoid of color. At first, I thought it was a trick of the light but then I realized that everyone around him had reflections of muted but normal colors—the sort you expect to see in a pane of glass.

I jerked around and saw him clearly; trudging his way through the other shoppers. He looked forlorn; hunched shoulders and head dropped low. It added another miserable layer to his gray appearance. And I mean gray; the man looked as if he'd stepped out of an old black and white film. It was surreal to see him walking among all the normal, healthy people.

I frowned as something else occurred to me; no one else noticed how he lacked the colors of life. I stared at all the erby and it wasn't that they were ignoring the man; people glanced at him and then kept going as if nothing was wrong with him.

I rushed after him.

I followed the gray man for two blocks before I decided to approach him. But just as I was closing the distance between us, he turned a corner and everything took on shades of gray. I don't mean that in a Sadomasochistic way—there was nothing sexy about this scene, and just to set the record straight; there are far more than fifty shades of gray. I saw over a hundred of them on the block the gray man lived. And he wasn't the only gray man there. People slipped carefully out of their homes and schlepped down the street; all of them as gray as the man I'd followed, and all of them looking as if life had lost its meaning.

Then I heard it: nothing.

There was an eerie quiet to the neighborhood; no wind blew, no birds sang, and no dogs barked. I walked carefully down the sidewalk; glancing left and right— looking for any spot of color I could find. No colors but gray; not even white or black. I scowled as I realized that my earlier assessment had been wrong. This wasn't like a black and white movie because there was neither white nor black here. It was only gray.

I shivered as a woman ed me; staring down at her dragging feet as she went. She didn't glance at me even though I openly stared at her. Her forehead was wrinkled deeply and her hands were clenched together before her.

“Are you all right, Ma'am?” I asked as I touched her shoulder.

She jerked as if I'd burned her and looked up at me with shocked, round eyes.

“I'm fine,” she stuttered as she stumbled away.

“What fresh hell is this?” I whispered as I turned in a circle.

It felt like a nightmare come to life, and it was a nightmare for me. For someone who relied on color as heavily as I do, seeing a world where only gray existed was more terrifying than an alien invasion. And believe me; I know all about alien invasions.

I picked up my pace; practically running to the end of the block where I could see the colors of the world I knew and loved return as if a line separated the gray from them. As soon as I stepped back onto the colorful streets of D.C., I breathed deeply in relief. Then I looked back.

No one with any color to them ventured into the gray area; they would start to head in that direction and then suddenly change their minds and turn around. Only the gray people wandered past the clear line of demarcation. With a great trepidation, I turned my gaze upward; half-expecting to see the sky above the zone turned gray too. It was a pale, wintry blue, but it was still blue, and I took comfort in that. Whatever had stolen the color from that neighborhood, it had remained on the ground.

My hands trembled as I pulled out my cell phone and texted President Matthew Colton; Houston, we have a problem.

Grammar Giggles

And just for a little giggle, here are some grammar mistakes found during the editing of this book.

Correct Line: The air was toxic to both Bleiten and Triari; neither race could live on the planet.

Giggle: The air was toxic to both Bleiten and Triari; neither rave could live on the planet. (I'd love to go to a Bleiten rave)

Correct Line: We had gone over all of Homeland Security's findings by that time, and Kyrian was concluding our meeting by perusing a folder of suspects.

Giggle: We had gone over all of Homeland Security's findings by that time, and Kyrian was concluding our meeting by perusing a folder of subjects. (A subtle but important difference—it took me a minute to figure out what the hell I had meant to say.)

Correct Line: His shirt hung in tatters around him and he was barefoot, but he managed to look both amazing and absolutely comfortable.

Giggle: His shirt hung in taters around him and he was barefoot, but he managed to look both amazing and absolutely comfortable. (I guess the demon prince was wearing a potato shirt. Perhaps he was trying to be like Lady Gaga.)

Correct Line: I ran my hands over the breadth of his shoulders; pulling him closer.

Giggle: I ran my hands over the breath of his shoulders; pulling him closer. (Talk about alien; his shoulders were breathing.)

And please feel free to write me at [email protected] if you spot any grammar errors yourself. I'm a poor self-published author who must rely on the kindness of my super-smart friends for help in editing. Please have mercy on my writing.

About the Author

Amy Sumida is the Internationally Acclaimed author of the Award-Winning Godhunter Series, the fantasy paranormal Twilight Court Series, the Beyond the Godhunter Series, the music-oriented paranormal Spellsinger Series, the superhero Spectra Series, and several short stories. Her books have been translated into several languages, have won numerous awards, and are bestsellers. She believes in empowering women through her writing as well as providing everyone with a great escape from reality. Her stories are full of strong women and hot gods, shapeshifters, vampires, dragons, fairies, gargoyles... pretty much any type of supernatural, breathtakingly gorgeous man you can think of. Because why have normal when you could have paranormal?

Born and raised in Hawaii, Amy made a perilous journey across the ocean with six cats to settle in the beautiful state of Oregon which reminds her a lot of Hawaii but without the cockroaches or evil sand. When she isn't trying to type fast enough to get down everything the voices in her head are saying while her kitties try to sabotage her with cuteness, she enjoys painting on canvases, walls, and anything else that will sit still long enough for the paint to dry. She prefers antiques to modern furniture, tea to coffee, night to day, and Tom Hardy to Tom Hiddleston. No; Tom Hiddleston to Tom Hardy. No, wait... Tom Hardy and Tom Hiddleston to Tom Cruise. Yes,that's it.

For information on new releases, detailed character descriptions, and an in-depth look into the worlds of the Godhunter, the Twilight Court, the Spellsinger, Spectra, and the Happily Harem After Series, check out Amy's website:

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