To be reborn as a vampire, a human had to die. The heart stopped. The brain ceased to function. The lungs didn’t rise.
Dead. Cold. Hello, afterlife.
Almost hello. Because if the exchange was successful, a few moments of true death were all the person would have. The heart would beat again, the lungs would fill, and the brain would kick-start to life again.
Alive once more, with a few new extra features.
Like fangs, super strength, and a nearly insatiable lust for blood.
Because the vampires knew that the shifters could smell them—and have one hell of a hunting advantage—they’d researched like crazy and finally produced kymine.
Kymine could only be used in a closed, restricted area. Once it was pumped into the ventilation system, it dispersed. A shifter unlucky enough to be in the area would temporarily lose his sense of smell.
And feel as if fire were burning the inside of his nostrils.
“I can’t smell a damn thing,” Jude said, still close, his breath whispering against her ear. To others, they’d look like lovers.
The best way to hunt. Deceive. Mislead.
“The bastards could be right next to me,” he said, “and I still wouldn’t know.”
So much for the shifter being her secret weapon tonight.
But there were too many lights in that place. Too many people, too many eyes. If a vampire was there, he’d only be scouting for food. The feast would come later.
When he had his prey alone.
Time to switch up plans. “Let’s go outside. You take the front, I’ll take the back.” They’d leave Zane inside, he could keep a careful watch on the bar.
The bar owners had to know about the vampires. No other reason they’d pump in the kymine.
“We need to tell Zane. He’ll need to—”
“Already did.” He eased back and she caught the glimpse of fang. “You armed?”
Her brow shot up. “Seriously? You’re asking me that?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “Let’s get the bastards.”
Good plan.
She reached into her bag and curled her fingers around her stake.
Showtime.
The night was too quiet. Especially for this part of town. There should have been laughter on the wind. Drunken voices. Car horns or the fading beat of music.
Dee paced about twenty feet behind Onyx. No stragglers waited outside. No lovers looked for a quick screw.
Alone.
With the thick silence.
So not natural.
She rocked back on her heels and tried to ignore the fact that Chase lounged somewhere in that bar. He’d probably moved on to a more agreeable partner. One of those women who could laugh and smile and mean it, and not someone who couldn’t stop glancing over her shoulder because she knew there were monsters out there, waiting.
Be afraid of the dark. A lesson she’d learned when she’d been fifteen.
So very afraid.
The faintest pad of footsteps reached her ears. Dee didn’t tense, that would alert her prey. She exhaled, nice and slow and—
“You’re dead, Dee.”
A woman’s voice, soft and mellow.
Slowly, Dee turned toward her. Tall, thin, with a long mane of midnight black hair, the woman stood near the exit of the back parking lot. She was alone, unarmed, and smiling.
Dee kept the stake hidden. No way to tell yet if she was staring at a vamp, a demon, a human—or hell knew what. Come on, Jude, get your ass back here. But if the kymine hadn’t worn off, he wouldn’t be much help, either.
“Are you afraid?” the woman asked.
Dee decided she hated the bitch. “No. Are you?”
The woman glided closer. One of those annoying graceful moves that dancers seemed to make.
Dee marched toward her, more than ready to meet the chick head on.
“No one will mourn, Dee. No one will even miss you when you’re rotting in the ground.”
Ah, so she was little Miss Sunshine and Light. Dee grunted. “And what? You think you’re the one whose gonna take me out?” She shook her head. “Sorry, sister, it’s been tried more than a few times and the assholes who come for me are the ones who wind up in the graves.”
The woman’s lips tightened. Good. It was always better to get under their skin, to rattle them, to—
“You should have died with your family.”
Dee’s vision flashed red. Blood red. Like the blood that had stained her hands, covered her body, and pooled on the floor when she’d found them.
No.
“But it doesn’t matter.” The bitch’s chin lifted. “You’re dead now.”
So Sunshine had gotten under her skin. “I seem to be breathing just fine.” She didn’t hear any other sounds. That could mean it was just her and Sunshine, or it could mean others waited silently and patiently in the darkness, ready for the perfect moment to attack and kill.
Uh, Jude?
Sunshine had on jeans, strappy sandals, and some kind of light, lacy top. Her smile was broad and flashed lots of teeth.
No fangs, not yet. A vamp’s fangs grew right before they got ready to feed. Just like a vamp’s eye color changed to black when they hunted.
Or when they fucked.
One way to find out what she was dealing with here.
Dee lunged forward, the stake gripped tight in her hand. She struck out, grabbing Sunshine and tossing her ass to the ground. Then she went in for the kill.
The woman never even flinched.
That same vacant smile was on her lips when Dee brought the stake down over her heart. “Dead,” she whispered again.
No fangs. No black eyes. If the woman were a vamp, she’d be fighting for her life. She would have gone into hunting mode instinctively. Not just lay there like a lamb at a slaughter.
Dee froze. The tip of the stake pressed into the lace of Sunshine’s shirt. “Who the hell are you?”
Laughter. Low. In-freaking-sane.
Dee lifted the weapon. Staking a human was not part of her agenda for the night. She rose, never taking her eyes off the nutjob. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“No, you are.” The woman climbed slowly to her feet. “All alone. Poor little hunter. Will you beg at the end?”
What the—
“She’s not alone.” Hard, deep.
Not Jude.
Chase.
Sunshine’s lips parted.
“Get out of here,” Dee told her, fighting back the impulse to ram one fist into that thin little nose. “And stop screwing around in shit that you don’t understand.” The woman was obviously some kind of messenger. Most of the hunters at Night Watch had a standing policy of not hurting innocents. Well, Zane wasn’t part of that “most” group. But she didn’t like to hurt humans.
The Other knew the safest way to send their warnings to the hunters was to employ puppets. Humans who thought playing in the dark was fun.
When it was more like suicide.
Yeah, she didn’t normally hurt innocents. But this time, oh, talk about temptation.
“You don’t even have a week,” the woman said and when she tilted her head, Dee caught sight of the bruises on her neck.
Bite marks.
Figured. “Neither do you,” she told her, sadly, still not glancing back at Chase. Not yet. “You need to run from them, as fast as you can and never look back.”
A blink. “Why? They can give me everything.”
Or nothing. “You can’t trust vamps.”
Her smile dimmed. “You can’t trust anyone.” Her hand rose to her neck. Covered the wounds. “But when you can live forever, does it matter?”
Yes.
Fingertips brushed her shoulder. Dee spun around, the weapon up.
Chase stared back at her.
“What? Christ, man, how the hell did you move so fast?” And so quietly.
“Where’s your partner?”
Thudding footsteps. Dee glanced back in time to see Sunshine make a break for the line of cars. She lunged forward—
He jerked her back. “Your. Partner.”
“She’s getting away!” If she could trail her, they could find out where the vamps were hiding and—
“Good. The bitch just threatened you. If she didn’t get her ass out of here, I might have killed her.”
What?
An engine kicked to life. No time to argue. Dee elbowed him, twisted, shimmied, then kicked out with her foot.
He flew back, and she shot forward.
“Dee!”
Her legs pumped as fast and hard as they could. Go, go. A car lurched forward, a small, red Ford. Exhaust burned her nostrils and the squeal of tires grated in her ears. Tag, get the—
Damn. Her shoulders slumped.
Gravel crunched behind her. “That hurt, Dee.”
Doubtful. If she’d wanted him hurt, he would have been hurt. “You should have let me go.” She stared at the disappearing taillights. No tag. Sunshine had planned for their meeting. Turning back to Chase, she glared. “She got away.”
He rubbed his side. “Where. Is. Your. Partner.”
Dee tried to brush by him. He caught her shoulders, trapping her against him.
His eyes glittered down at her. “You know, the blond bastard who was licking your ear inside. Where is he?”
Ah, what was that? Jealousy? Men. Take away the jeans and designer labels and you had cavemen beating their chests. “Jude isn’t my partner.”
“Is he your lover?”
Her breath rushed out. “None of your business, okay? I’m on a case, you just let my lead get away and—”
He kissed her. Chase crushed that too hard mouth down on hers and drove his tongue past her lips.
She could have broken free. Could have given him another hard punch but—
Screw it.
She wanted to taste him.
So for a few wild seconds, she forgot the vamps and the death and she locked her arms tight around him and she opened her mouth wide.
Yes.
Her tongue met his. She wasn’t the kind of woman who liked to be taken. She liked to take.
His hands caught her waist, pulled her closer, and the rising ridge of his cock thrust against her.
His lips caressed. Savored. His tongue swept into her mouth. Slid against hers and had her wanting more. So much more.
A quiver began in the pit of her belly. A stir of hunger that she hadn’t felt in so long.
This man could make her feel. Make her want, and—the sex—it would be fantastic.
His fingers cupped her ass. Squeezed.
Then he lifted her, hauling her high in the air and holding her close so that her nipples, already tight, aching peaks, pushed against his chest.
Yes.
She liked her men strong. Liked her sex hot.
He sure fit the bill and—
“Dammit, Dee, I thought you were working the case, not screwing around with—”
He stiffened against her. Chase’s head rose and his lips, red and shining from her mouth, hovered over hers. “Not your lover,” he repeated and it took her a half-dazed moment to realize he was talking about Jude.
The guy who’d finally decided to make an appearance. “No.”
He put her down, nice and slow. “Then you won’t mind when I kick his ass.”
Um, nah, generally she wouldn’t mind but—
But this wasn’t a fair fight. No way would Chase be able to take down a shifter, unless—unless he was much more than human.
“Come and try,” Jude invited and she didn’t have to look at him to know he’d be sporting his come-get-some grin.
She grabbed Chase’s hands. “What are you?”
His eyes narrowed. “What the hell kind of question is that?”
“One that needs an answer.” In this city, you couldn’t take risks.
But he didn’t answer and his jaw locked.
She glanced over at Jude. “Kymine gone yet?”
“Mostly.” He sniffed a bit. “He doesn’t smell like death.” A grimace. “Just some fancy ass cologne.”
Her shoulders relaxed. Not a vamp. Okay. Everything else was pretty much doable.
Chase stepped back from her and Dee dropped her hands. He slanted Jude a seriously pissed glare. “Don’t come sniffing around me again, tiger.”
Tiger? He knew about Jude?
Not a flicker of surprise crossed the shifter’s face. “You gonna piss and moan all night or are you gonna answer the lady’s question?”
What are you?
Chance stared back at her. Gazed too deeply with those smoky eyes. “I’m the man who had her back, twice, when you weren’t anywhere around.”
“Dee doesn’t need anyone to watch her. The woman’s a freaking machine—”
“Everyone needs backup.” His fingers brushed over her cheek. Her breath caught.
“Aw, Dee…shit,” Jude muttered.
Her shoulders snapped up. She wouldn’t be weak. Not in front of Jude. He’d trained her. Walked with her on the first mission.
Not in front of him. “We had a visitor.” Now she was the one to back away. Because that soft touch wasn’t something she could handle.
Hard, wild, and rough—yeah, that was more her style.
Chase’s fingers fisted, then fell.
“And you noticed the…ah…visitor with your tongue down this guy’s—”
“I’ve got a name. It’s Simon Chase.”
“—throat?”
She stared at Jude. Long and hard and waited until his blue gaze dropped. That was better. “The visit came first. Some sweet little ball of fluff sporting bite marks on her neck.”
Jude sucked in a sharp breath. “A lure?”
“No.” Well, maybe. Vamps were known to use sexy women to draw in other prey. Worked wonders for them. Most folks were always attracted to a pretty package. You followed the package, and found hell waiting with open fangs. “She was sent to deliver a message to me.”