Night Games

Night - 2

Crystal Jordan

1

“You look hot, baby.”

A low wolf whistle pierced the air, and Selina turned away from the window where she was standing, her eyebrow arching high. The sight of a woman in a long, shimmery wedding gown and a leer on her face made her snort. Chloe Standish of the wealthy, influential Standish witch family was not your average bride. Chloe’s best friend, Tess Jones, chortled as she walked out of the bathroom to join them in the big bedroom.

When Selina spoke, her tone was wry. “Thanks, you’re going to make Merek jealous.”

If anyone besides Merek had asked her to be in a wedding, she’d have laughed in his face. But the big warlock used to be her partner in the Seattle Police Department’s Magickal Task Force. The years together meant she’d developed an unfortunate weak spot for the man. Which meant she was not only attending his wedding to a high-society bride, but she was in the wedding party. And wearing a damn dress. She hadn’t worn a dress in at least a decade, and this thing was tight enough to count as a second skin. She had no idea how women wore shit like this on a daily basis, especially considering the high heels were killing her toes.

Uncomfortable was something of an understatement for the day. Her boss, her boss’s boss, and his boss were all at the wedding. Along with every important Magickal law enforcement officer in the city, state, and country, the mayor, and several senators and congressmen who happened to be Magickals as well as elected officials. And they’d all be watching her shimmy up the aisle because the way she had to move in this getup couldn’t be called a regular walk.

Good thing they’d never tapped her to go undercover as a hooker in a prostitution bust. She’d never have pulled it off. Then again, coy flirting had never been her forte. Either a man wanted her or he didn’t. And she wanted him back or she didn’t. End of story. No need to beat around the bush with stupid little mind games. Modern courtship was for the birds. Most of her lovers in the last few years were older Magickals like her, who’d been around the block a dozen times and didn’t want to mess around with all this love and dating crap.

Even then, it had been many months since she’d bothered with sex. Too busy with work, but she’d gone through longer dry spells before, so she didn’t worry about it. If she wanted some play, she could get it. Her hormones decided to give a sharp wail at that moment, telling her that they damn well wanted some play, even if the rest of her was wrapped up in police work.

The bride shrugged, her grin widening. “Merek knows I don’t bat for the other team. But since he’s a guy and that’s how they are, I wouldn’t put it past him to want to watch us together.”

Selina rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny that the other woman was probably right. Men. It didn’t matter their species—Normal or Magickal—they were all the same. “That is both disturbing and typical, all at the same time.”

Turning toward a floor-length mirror, Chloe checked her makeup one last time and straightened the little pillbox hat and short veil she wore. After her parents died, the witch had lived in her Aunt Millie’s mansion in Upper Queen Anne. Selina was pretty sure the old woman had been around in the 1800s when the palatial Victorian-style home had been built. Mildred Standish was a mover and shaker in the Magickal community, representing the Witch Coven on the All-Magickal Council. Everyone knew her name and her fearsome reputation.

It felt more than a little odd to be standing in the woman’s house, but everything about this day was designed to throw Selina off-kilter, so she ignored it and went to help Tess straighten the back of Chloe’s dress.

Tess’s long red hair fell forward to cover her face when she bent down. “I’m just glad Merek didn’t add me to that little fantasy.”

“Oh, he so would. Three hot chicks going at it for his entertainment? Or maybe just the two of you, since he’s probably too possessive to share me.” Chloe’s hazel eyes sparkled as her reflection met Selina’s gaze. “Men. Can’t live with them, illegal to kill them.”

“Mostly illegal.” Selina winked.

“Yeah, damn. There’s that whole having-a-badge thing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “It has its trade-offs for the lousy hours and bad coffee.”

“Cavalli”—Tess sneered the name, referring to her ex-boyfriend and current boss, and her eyes went wolfish, her werewolf fangs sliding down in sharp, deadly points—“installed a fancy espresso machine in the FBI office.”

Heavy, awkward silence filled the room. None of them particularly cared to think about why Tess hated Luca Cavalli so much. Betrayal was an ugly thing. Tess had been Normal this time last year and totally in the dark about magic existing in the world. She’d been dating Luca, who was a vampire; was best friends with Chloe, a witch; and she’d gotten tangled up in a plot by werewolf terrorists to steal the formula Chloe was working on to control the worst effects of werewolves’ full-moon madness. During a fight for their lives, Tess had been bitten by a terrorist and barely survived the Change.

Somehow, Tess had gotten over the fact that Chloe had been lying to her for their entire friendship, but she hated Luca with the fire of a thousand suns. Then again, he was a vampire and she was a werewolf. The two didn’t mix, so even if they still loved each other, there was nothing that could come of it.

Perhaps it was a mercy that Tess hated him.

In the end, there was nothing Chloe or Luca could have done to clue Tess in on magic before she’d been bitten. Magickals had strict secrecy laws. To reveal magic to a Normal without authorization was forbidden, and if you were a werewolf or a vampire and you turned a Normal into a Magickal without permission, it resulted in a death sentence. No questions asked. No appeal allowed.

It might seem harsh, but Selina had been around back when witch trials and vampire hunting had been fashionable. She’d watched good Magickals be murdered because people couldn’t keep their mouths shut. So when the All-Magickal Council had enacted non-disclosure laws, Selina had fully supported them. Her job as a detective meant she helped ruthlessly enforce the rules and had very little sympathy for those who broke them. Did that make her a coldhearted bitch? Probably. She’d been called a lot worse. They didn’t refer to her as an ice queen in the department for no reason. It mostly just amused her. She’d more than earned her considerable reputation.

“Cavalli loves his fancy coffee.” Tess’s jaw jutted, her face flushing with anger.

Remorse shaded Chloe’s expression. As the person who’d kept the truth from her friend the longest, Chloe still had a lot of guilt over what had happened. She cleared her throat. “Your fangs are showing, hon. Tuck those back in, would you? Millie will kill you if you mess up the pictures.”

Tess snorted, and the fangs retracted.

Delivering a final tweak to Chloe’s dress, Selina tried to break some of the tension. “Does this espresso machine come with a barista? Because I don’t deal with that thirty-seven-knobs-and-buttons shit. I like the put-in-the-grinds-and-push-one-button model.”

“That’s so passé.” Chloe turned to face them, exaggerated disdain on her face. Her ebony hair was swept back from her forehead, and she looked like the kind of movie star who used to grace 1950s silver screens.

Selina waved a dismissive hand. “I’m a rebel. I kick it old-school.”

A peal of laughter spilled from the werewolf. “How old are you again?”

“About four hundred forty and change.” Damn, that made her feel ancient. Then again, she was ancient by human standards.

Tess whistled. “I think that officially qualifies as ‘farting dust old.’ ”

“Something like that.” Selina cocked an eyebrow. “Which means I have more than enough magic to roast the fur off a werewolf.”

The she-wolf winced. “Noted.”

“I thought so.” Selina smirked.

“Nice little elf.” Tess reached out to delicately flick the point on Selina’s ear.

She couldn’t help a shudder as the sensation reverberated through her body. Elves’ ears were incredibly sensitive, and she ducked away from further touch. At least the elven stereotype had been helped a bit with the Lord of the Rings movies. It was more Orlando Bloom and less Keebler’s now.

The door to Chloe’s room swung open and her Aunt Millie stepped inside. Magic radiated from the old woman, an unmistakable aura of power surrounding her. “It’s time.”

Chloe’s chest rose as she drew in a deep breath, and the most radiant smile crossed her face. Selina had to look away. Gods, had she looked that happy on her own wedding day? Probably, but that was hundreds of years ago now. She could still see it so clearly in her mind. Some memories faded, but that day was locked in forever. The way the flowers had smelled, the soft dress against her skin, the way her little cousin Bess had squealed and clapped and danced in excitement. But Selina’s young husband had died a few years later, and all that joy had crumbled. Pain stabbed in her chest at the thought of her loved ones, stolen away by time and Fate, until there was no one left. She shook herself, straightened her shoulders, and lifted her chin.

Damn, but she hated weddings and all the little reminders of the past they inevitably brought with them. Merek was lucky she liked him, or she never would have agreed to this. The ceremony couldn’t be over soon enough, and then she could get to the part with the champagne. She shrugged the tautness out of her shoulders and forced a smile to her face.

Accepting the bouquet Tess held out, Selina smoothed her dress and wished it covered more flesh. The pale green gown was strapless, knee length, and tight enough to hug every curve on the way down. Tess wore a matching dress, but actually had the rack to pull it off. Chloe’s dress was a white version of theirs, only instead of stopping at the knee, it flared out like a mermaid’s tail all the way to the floor.

Sucking in a breath, Selina led the way out of the room. She ignored the fact that she was seconds away from a whole crowd of people turning to look at her. She hated being the center of attention. Give her the background any day—she’d leave the posturing and grandstanding to people like Millie. She strode down the stairs to the immense foyer. Double doors opened to the evening air. It was warmer than Seattle ever got at night, no doubt something Millie’s magic had pulled off.

Huge white tents had been set up outside, the silk fabric sheer enough to see the stars overhead. Torches and subtle spotlights lit the yard with a romantic glow. The late hour was in deference to the vampires in attendance who couldn’t handle the daylight hours without risk of torching in the sun. Her stomach clenched when she stepped out of the doors, and every single person twisted in their chair to look at the bridal party.

“Oh, fuck me,” she groaned under her breath.

I heard that. Tess’s telepathic voice floated through her mind, lilting with amusement. Of the Magickal races, only werewolves and vampires had the ability to project their thoughts.

“Damn werewolf hearing.” But Selina smiled when she said it, trying not to trip over her pointy-toed shoes. She stepped off the front porch and down the rose petal–strewn path that led up the aisle and ended with the pastor, Merek, and his groomsmen.

She focused on them, rather than the hundreds of eyes locked on her. Merek looked happier than she’d ever seen him. He’d made the transition from the Seattle PD to the FBI Magickal Crimes Unit the year before, and the change seemed to suit him. Two other broad-shouldered males stood next to him, waiting for the women. Their tuxedos fit them to perfection.

On the far end was Luca Cavalli. Born in Italy, he looked like a tall, gorgeous, and elegant advertisement for Armani. Appearances were deceiving, however, because he wasn’t just a pretty face. The vampire was legend in Magickal law enforcement. He ran the FBI’s MCU, and he was the best there was. The only time she’d ever seen him lose his cool was the day Tess was mauled, Changed into a wolf, and effectively stolen from his life forever. In any sort of romantic capacity, anyway. Once she’d survived the Change, he’d managed to get her transferred from her position as a coroner for the Normal side of the FBI and over to the Magickal side, which threw her into his path more often than not.

Alex Nemov was the best man, and Chloe’s orphaned godson. She and Merek had recently finalized adopting the teenaged werewolf. Alex’s mother had died when he was a child, and his father had been killed by the same terrorists that had turned Tess into a wolf.

This night was a step into a new life for Merek’s little family, and Selina was happy for them. She just wished she could be an anonymous guest rather than walking down the aisle in this painted-on dress. She couldn’t remember ever being so conscious of so many sets of eyes on her at once. She was used to standing back and observing others, investigating, asking questions, not being thrust in the limelight with nothing better to do than smile pretty for the cameras people aimed at her.

She knew the moment Chloe came into view, because Merek’s eyes lit up and his jaw sagged a bit. A grin curled her lips. Yeah, that was exactly how a groom should look when he saw his bride in her wedding gown.

Her husband had looked at her that way.

She tamped down on that thought and took her place to wait for Tess and Chloe. Selina hadn’t thought about her marriage in decades, maybe longer. She wasn’t one to dredge up the past. She’d found that holding on to it would make her crazy.

But today seemed designed to remind her that she was alone and she hadn’t always been.

Tess joined her, studiously avoiding looking at the groom’s side, specifically a tall vampire. The small orchestra Millie had hired seemed to grow louder as Chloe walked down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her aunt.

Everything passed in a blur from there, for which Selina was grateful. The ceremony was brief, thank gods, and at the end Merek dipped his new wife into a deep bend and kissed her thoroughly while a raucous cheer went up from the crowd. They hurried up the aisle, Alex escorting Tess behind them. Cavalli offered Selina his arm, and she curled her hand into the crook of his elbow.

Tess was the one stuck giving the toast on the bride’s side, and Alex’s speech as the best man made Chloe cry and hug him tight. The couple’s first dance was the first time Selina was completely out of the limelight, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she blended into the crowd and just watched them have their moment.

Alex sidled up beside her and nudged her in the ribs. “You look hot.”

She cracked up and almost snorted champagne through her nose. “You sound like your godmother.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, his pale green eyes gleaming. “She raised me right, what can I say?”

“How old are you, kid?” He was tall and broad, not an ounce of baby fat left on him. His face was lean, his tanned skin and dark hair a sharp contrast to his eyes. She’d bet he made all the teenaged girls swoon.

“Sixteen. Seventeen in a month or so. My birthday is right after graduation.”

“So if you’re this super-genius, how are you still in high school?” From what Merek had said, the kid could hack anything with a power switch, and had a photographic memory to match.

He rubbed a finger over the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, there’s a story behind that.”

“Uh-huh.” She waved toward the swaying couple in the middle of the dance floor. “I’ve got nothing better to do but listen.”

Besides, from what little she’d seen of the kid, he wasn’t particularly chatty with anyone he didn’t know well. Apparently, all the wedding planning and rehearsals they’d attended in the last few months meant he’d decided he liked her. She was touched. But maybe that was just the champagne.

“I wanted to know what it was like.” There was no uncertainty in his voice when he spoke, no excuses. He’d done what he’d done and that was the end of it. Very unusual for a kid his age, but Merek had made it clear that Alex was no ordinary teenager. She believed him now.

She tilted her head. “You wanted to know what high school was like?”

“Yeah. Dating, prom, graduation.” One shoulder dipped in a shrug. “You know, normal kid stuff.”

“When you’re a super-genius teen wolf, you just want to be Normal?”

“Something like that.” He snorted. “My dad didn’t care what I did, as long as I stayed out of trouble. When Chloe took me in and found out I was deliberately slowing my education, she put her foot down and made me graduate this year.” He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged again. “I’ve been taking extra classes from the local community college and the University of Washington since I was ten, so I’m almost done with a couple of degrees anyway.”

He said it so casually, it took her a moment to process his words. “A couple of degrees?”

“Well, I was interested in a lot of things. Computer science, biology, mechanical engineering, mathematics, Russian, Hindi.”

Her lips twitched and she tried not to laugh. “Is that all?”

“I have a couple of minors, too. Anthropology, chemistry, oceanography, aeronautics and astronautics.” His dark brows scrunched together for a moment. “I’m pretty sure that’s all of them.”

“So, basically, if you can think of it, you can build it ... computers, cars, submarines, planes, and spaceships?”

He chuckled. “More or less. I’ll probably complete those undergrad degrees in a few semesters, and I think I’m going to focus my graduate studies on computer science and cryptography.”

“How long do you think it’ll take you to finish? A week?”

He nodded sagely. “Maybe a week and a half.”

Giving in to the urge to chuckle, she reached out and snagged a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Bless Millie and her open bar policies for this shindig.

“Leave me alone, Special Agent Cavalli. I may have to deal with you at work, but I’m off duty right now.” The low, angry hiss of voices drew her attention away from the dance floor. A few feet away, Luca and Tess stood glaring at each other.

The vampire’s gaze flashed red for a moment, but that was the only indicator that he was upset. His voice was as smooth as ever, with only a hint of his native Italy. “We still have a great deal to discuss.”

“That’s funny, because I have nothing left to say to you. What we had is over and has been for months. Get over it and move on, Luca, for both our sakes. Quit beating a dead horse.”

Alex obviously noticed the couple’s spat, too, because he made a small noise in the back of his throat. His telepathic voice echoed in Selina’s head. Glad everyone is on their best behavior today. I’ve seen those two really go at it a couple of times since she joined the Seattle pack.

Tess turned her face away and deliberately did not look at Cavalli, while the man stared at her with painful longing in his eyes.

“As you wish, mia diletta.” Then he sighed and disappeared into the crowd.

Thank gods that unrequited love was an affliction long behind her. Selina shuddered in horror. She was too old for that shit. Give her a proper villain to shoot at any day. Anything but lovesickness.

How many hours did she have left before she could slip away from this party unnoticed? Quite a few, considering she was a bridesmaid. Damn it. She was ready to be home with a cup of coffee, her German shepherd familiar curled at her feet, and a stack of case files from work to go through. Then she could put the past back where it belonged. Behind her and not jumping up to haunt her at every turn.

“They want the wedding people to dance now. I’m not dealing with pissed-off Tess and Luca. Let’s go.” Alex grabbed Selina’s elbow and drew her out onto the dance floor. Merek handed Chloe off to Luca, and Tess took the groom’s hand.

Selina released a sigh. Well, that was handled about as well as could be expected. She let Alex steer her around in a waltz, and the kid managed to only step on her toes once. She’d been trampled a lot worse, but she was more than happy to step aside and let Millie take a spin with the best man. Other wedding guests joined in and soon she faded into the background again to observe. Then her boss asked her to dance, and it wasn’t as if she had a choice, so she acquiesced. Apparently, every cop there wanted a chance to tell her she looked pretty in her dress. Harassing other officers was part of cop culture, but tonight it just made her want to punch them in the nose. She forced herself to smile and keep dancing for several hours. Killing people at a wedding would be bad form.

Her toes hurt like a bitch, she wanted to burn this outfit along with the pointy shoes, and every time she caught a glimpse of the happy couple, she flashed back to her own wedding day. She saw her family in their finery, little Bess bouncing off the walls in excitement, her new husband’s warm smile. Hot pain seared through her chest, and she swallowed hard. What she wouldn’t give for some of that ice she was so famous for, but she felt anything but cold-blooded and logical tonight.

She didn’t want to think about that. It had been so long ago. She’d been so young, so happy, so sure she’d be that happy for decades to come.

Instead, he’d died and left her alone after a handful of sweet years.

“I’ll see you later,” she said to her dance partner, and he grunted in response. She eased herself through the throngs toward the bartender and all his nice bottles of distraction.

Even better, she saw a muscular man stepping up to the bar in front of her, and the sight was delicious. His slacks hugged a very nice ass, and his shirt fit his broad shoulders just right. A wicked smile curved her lips.

Hey, she’d been around long enough to know when to just stop and enjoy the view.

There was nothing like this kind of shindig to remind people of everything they weren’t.

On any other day, Jack could give a flying rat’s ass about being the only Normal human in a crowd of Magickals. It was a role he’d gotten used to since his mother married a werewolf when he was in junior high. His normality was the very reason he’d been recruited into the FBI’s Magickal Crimes Unit. Luca wanted an agent who could fly under the radar of Magickal senses, and someone who could give a different perspective to the MCU. Jack had never regretted his decision to join up and get drawn back into the world of magic, but fancy parties like this, where all the Magickal elite congregated, definitely had a way of pointing out exactly how different he was from everyone in his life.

Hell, even his mother had gone over to the fanged side.

He took a last swig of scotch, handed the glass over to the bartender, and tugged at his tie, doing his damndest not to feel conspicuous. The only way this could be worse was if he’d been stuck in the wedding party. Thankfully, Merek hadn’t done that to him. Cavalli had landed that particular honor in the unit.

The booze was good, at least. Chloe’s aunt knew how to throw a party. But she’d also invited a veritable who’s who of Magickals. Even a human could feel the buzz of powerful magic in the place. Many of these people were centuries old, and those years to hone their abilities showed, even if most of them looked no older than he did. Late thirties, early forties. He had no idea why magic made them all stop aging when they hit adulthood, but it sent a chill down the spine at times to look into eyes that had seen far too much for far too long. By human standards anyway.

He sighed and nodded to the bartender when the man set a fresh glass of whiskey in front of him. “Thanks.”

“I’d like another champagne, please.”

The woman’s smoky voice made the hairs rise on the back of Jack’s neck, awareness sliding through him. Her perfume was as rich and heady as her voice. He turned to look at her, hoping that the visual was as good. It’d be a damn shame for a woman to sound that sexy if the rest of the package didn’t match.

It did. The woman was slender, but the dress she wore hugged every single one of the curves she had. Her hair was dark and short, tucked behind one ear to show the elfish point. When she met his gaze, the awareness burned into something much hotter. Jesus, she was even more gorgeous than he’d remembered.

“Hi.” He let his smile widen slowly as he met her dark gaze. “Selina Grayson, right?”

“Hello.”

She gave him the kind of glance that said he looked vaguely familiar, and it took her a moment to place where she’d seen him. Though he hadn’t spoken to her before tonight, he’d never forget the first time he’d seen her, months ago. At the hospital after Tess, Chloe, and her godson were attacked by werewolf terrorists. The entire MCU had been called in to clean up the mess and track down the fleeing members of that terrorist cell. Including its leader, Leonard Smith. The wolf had been one of the most wanted criminals on Magickal watch lists. Until Merek had put a bullet through his skull. Jack had been there for that day, had been close enough to Smith at the time to be sprayed by the hot blood.

Her chin dipped in a nod. “You’re one of Cavalli’s men, right?”

“I’m on his team, yeah. I’m Jack Laramie.” He toasted her with his glass. “And you’re Merek’s old partner.” He winced a bit. “Sorry, I mean former partner.”

“Old is probably more accurate.” Her laugh was rich, sensual, and she looked him over with enough interest to make his heart rate bump up a notch. “Call me Selina, Jack.”

He let his smile spread, and his gaze moved over her body with as much thoroughness as she’d used on him. “You don’t look that old to me, but I’m a Normal so I’ve always been bad at judging these things with Magickals.”

She blinked, then blinked again, as if she were trying to get her mind to process that. “Cavalli has a Normal on his Magickal law enforcement team? Is that even legal?”

Most people just thought those questions. They didn’t blatantly ask them, at least not to his face. Those who did were usually dicks about it. His mouth twisted in a smile. “Yes, he’s allowed to do that. He didn’t break any secrecy laws—my stepfather is a Magickal, so I already knew about magic. I just can’t work it.”

“Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t look at all remorseful. “There’s really not a tactful way to ask about that.”

“If there is, no one’s used it on me yet.”

“Ouch.” She gave a little wince of sympathy.

He shrugged. “That’s the way it goes sometimes.” He watched her grip tighten on her champagne flute, and he realized that she wasn’t as relaxed as she appeared at first glance. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

“I’m a cop. Fancy parties aren’t normally my speed.”

He knew exactly what she meant. He moved down the bar, settled next to her, and turned so his back was pressed to the wood. His shoulder brushed against hers, and he could feel that sharp spark of awareness that had hit him when he’d first heard her voice. The female scent of her filled his nose, and from this close, he could see the smoothness of her skin. He wanted to touch it, and his body reacted to that line of thinking.

Shifting so she faced the crowd with him, he tried not to groan as she ended up plastered to his side. He expected her to move away from him, but she didn’t. She just took a sip of her champagne and cast him a glance through her eyelashes. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

“Not until about three minutes ago, but things are starting to look up.” The slow burn in his veins had little to do with the scotch he’d consumed. He’d gone from wishing he could escape to hoping he got to spend a few more hours with the woman beside him. Definite improvement.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” She tapped his glass with hers. “This is a much better distraction than booze.”

He chuckled. “I rank above the bubbly? I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

“Is it just the high society shindig that makes you want to drink away the evening?” Because he knew he had plenty of other reasons for not wanting to think about people getting married. His own foray into matrimony could only be described as a disaster. A huge, ugly clusterfuck of a disaster. Too-familiar guilt and pain twisted deep inside him, but he shoved the memories aside and took another deep swig of his scotch.

Her shoulders twitched in a shrug, which made her arm slide against his. Even that innocent touch made him clench his teeth. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so physically attracted to a woman so fast, but he was sure he liked it.

“I’m not a fan of weddings, high society or otherwise. Plus, every person in my entire chain of command is here.” She toyed with the necklace she wore, licked her lips, and glanced up at him.

“I can see how that could be hard on a person.” It was hard on something, all right. His cock stiffened in his slacks as his gaze locked on her mouth. He could picture those full lips moving over very intimate parts of his body. Not a good thought to be having if he didn’t want to embarrass himself in public. Everyone in his chain of command was here, too, including every ranking member of the All-Magickal Council.

A little smile curled up the corners of her lips. He got the feeling her smile wasn’t something people readily got to see. He knew for certain he hadn’t seen it before today. If he had, he would have asked her out a long time ago. Something that powerful deserved to be appreciated.

“You’re staring,” she said, the smile growing wider.

He didn’t stop. “I’m in law enforcement. Observing people is part of what I do.”

“Is that what you tell the girls?” She shifted closer, her dark gaze flashing unmistakable interest. And heat.

“No.” He grinned. “I tell the girls ... that’s a nice necklace.”

Her dark brows winged upward, her palm covering the pendant that rested below her collarbone. “It’s a talisman.”

“Oh, yeah? Where did you get that?”

For a second, wariness shone in her gaze. She was not used to telling anyone her business. How he knew that so certainly, he wasn’t sure.

“My cousin made it for me. Elves have a special gift for bespelled objects. We’re the best at it. The Elven Assembly even regulates the use of these kinds of objects.” She dropped her hand so he could see it more clearly. “This talisman is for protection. My cousin thought I could use it, since I’d just graduated from the police academy.”

The chain was silver and a little thick for women’s jewelry, and the charm was made up of a few colored stones woven into an intricate design with more silver and perhaps copper.

“A little luck in the line of duty is a good thing.” He’d had his fair share, and he was hoping for a larger share in order to get lucky tonight. “The elves regulate jinxed, hexed, and cursed objects, too, don’t they?”

Her lips pursed. “Cursed objects don’t exist anymore, thank gods. They were outlawed a century ago, and all the remaining ones were destroyed. Hexed and jinxed objects, on the other hand, are tightly regulated. I’ve busted several teenagers messing with that kind of magic illegally.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grinned. “Sounds like something I’d have done as a kid, if I were a Magickal.”

Her gaze dropped to his lips when he spoke, and she leaned closer until his nose filled with the scent of her perfume. He wanted to touch her. Badly.

“Are you married or otherwise spoken for?”

They both winced at his bald question. He had no idea what her grimace was for, but he had more ugly memories about being married than he could handle in a lifetime. Weddings like this didn’t bother him—his own wedding had been great. It was the marriage that had fucked up. None of it was something he liked to think about, though. The silence stretched, so he answered his own question, hoping to encourage her to do the same. “I’m single now, but I was married once. A long time ago.”

“Same here.” She looked down at her glass. “A couple of centuries ago, in fact.”

“Mine is more like decades, but it averages out in human-to-elf years, I guess.” He didn’t ask how old she was. Even Magickal women who had such long life spans didn’t seem to like to admit when they passed thirty, so he’d learned to avoid the topic for the most part.

“I suppose it does.” She finished the last of her champagne and set the flute on the bar behind them. When her gaze met his, it was frank, no coy games, no teasing. “So, you’re available and I’m available. Isn’t that interesting?”

“I think so.” He smiled, and he knew the expression was nothing short of lascivious. He liked her forthrightness, and if he was reading this correctly, he was going to be enjoying a lot more of her tonight. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that hot little body. Since he couldn’t strip her in their current surroundings, he asked, “Would you like to dance?”

She glanced at the couples swaying together slowly. “Sure.”

He held his hand out for her, and she slid her fingers into his. Yeah, touching her was just as good as he’d suspected it would be.

Drawing her out onto the dance floor and into his arms, he bit back a groan at having her slim curves pressed against his front. He made certain his hold wasn’t so tight that she’d notice his rising erection, but he still enjoyed the lust sizzling through his veins. It was rare that he met a woman who got to him like this, and the anticipation just made it all the more arousing to have her near, smell her sweet scent, slide his hands down her back.

“This is good.” She settled herself against him, arching to let him know she’d noticed his erection. He grinned. Of course she’d noticed.

He pulled her closer. “I know what you mean.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Exactly.” He hadn’t been looking for this kind of distraction, but being a sane man, he wasn’t about to walk away from it. Letting one hand slide up her spine, he cupped the back of her neck, enjoying the silky feel of her skin. Her short hair tickled the back of his hand. Goose bumps broke down his flesh when she slid her palms under his jacket and ran them up his back. He could feel the heat of her through his shirt, the way her nails dug in slightly. His breath hissed through his teeth as his cock jerked, and her throaty chuckle did little to cool his ardor.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open and not thrust himself against her. Another couple swayed to the music not far from them, locked as tightly together as he was with Selina. It took him a moment for his lust-fogged brain to realize he knew these people. Tess and Peyton. They were both werewolves who worked with him in the FBI. Peyton was an agent and Tess a medical examiner. The way they looked at each other was shocking in its intimacy. He hadn’t known they had any interest in each other. Luca still had a thing for Tess, and the fact that Peyton worked with both of them made for a whole lot of possible awkwardness. Jack looked away, ignoring that he’d seen a thing. It wasn’t his business.

He watched Merek and Chloe drift by, their gazes locked on each other, the rest of the world ignored. Newlywed bliss. He grimaced. Their marriage would work out better than his, only because he knew Chloe was nothing like his wife had been. Shaking his head, he dismissed other people from his thoughts and concentrated on the woman in his arms. The past was over, best to focus on his very pleasurable present.

Selina tilted her head back to whisper something in his ear, and her body stretching against his was exquisite torture. He bit back a groan.

Her lips brushed his ear, her hot breath washing over his skin and making him dig his hands into her hips. She nipped his earlobe, scraping it with her teeth. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Fuck, yes, he did. He forced himself to loosen his grip on her. “I’d like to go anywhere that’s not here. Would anyone notice a missing bridesmaid?”

“I’ll tell Millie I’m leaving. She’ll have her million minions handle anything else.” She skimmed her hands up his chest, pausing infinitesimally to graze his nipples with her nails. “The newlyweds should be leaving soon anyway. Millie is putting them up in the penthouse suite of the Mercer Grand Hotel for their wedding night and keeping Alex while they’re on their honeymoon in Bali.”

He swallowed hard and rocked his hips into her as subtly as he could while they moved across the dance floor. Soon the couple would leave. How much longer was that? Too damn long, as far as he was concerned. He wanted her dress gone, her body bared for his touch, preferably stretched out on a mattress and arched for his penetration. He shuddered, his heart pounding in his chest. Every movement of her slim form against his just made him hotter.

His cock throbbed, and it didn’t help at all when she slid her hands up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, toying with his hair. Her eyes flickered with dark fire, and he could feel the tingle of her magic dancing down his spine. Almost a pleasure spell.

“Jesus,” he croaked.

Her full lips curved. “I want you.”

Leaning down, he breathed in her ear. “Are you wet for me, Selina?”

A low moan spilled from her, and he felt her shiver. “Yes.”

They both jolted when the DJ announced that the bride and groom would be leaving momentarily. Selina rolled her eyes at him when they announced the tossing of the bouquet. “Oh, hell no.”

He chuckled. “Well, all right then.”

“I’m older than dirt. I’m not wrestling with a vicious little teenager over wilting flowers.” She folded her arms, which just drew his gaze to her plumped-up cleavage.

“You could totally take a teenager, vicious or not.”

Her brows winged upward. “Well, yeah, but do I want to? Not so much.” A wicked little gleam reflected in her eyes. “Why go after the flowers and hope I snag a man, when I can just take a man to bed and get all the fun I want?”

“I’m ready for that kind of fun,” he growled, his gaze moving down her body. Oh, yeah, was he ready. They weren’t even touching and he was still hard.

She nodded. “Let me track down Millie and tell her I’m off. I’ll meet you at the bar.”

2

Their shoes crunched on the gravel drive as they walked toward the multitude of parked cars. Most of the guests would be using the valet service, but Selina would rather not be standing there with her future one-night fling waiting for her vehicle to be delivered with her co-workers standing nearby to note who she was leaving with. She could fetch her own car, thanks so much. No doubt a few people had noticed who she’d been wrapped around on the dance floor, but they could only speculate if it went beyond a dance.

Jack glanced down at her as she stopped beside her car, his brilliant blue eyes turning serious. “Are you safe to drive?”

“Yeah, you?” Spending so much time on the dance floor had kept her from drinking as much as she would have liked tonight.

“Yep. I only had two fingers of scotch.”

“I’ll follow you to your place.” Because she hated trying to get men out of her bed after a one-night stand. Plus, her familiar didn’t take kindly to strange men. The big German shepherd had the tendency to bite, which didn’t go over very well in the let’s-get-it-on department. She’d learned that the hard way, and she definitely wanted to get it on with Jack Laramie.

He caught her arm before she could open her car door. “I just want to check something before we leave.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” She arched her eyebrows.

Drawing her into his arms, he settled his mouth over hers. Her tongue slid along his lower lip, and he opened for her. The flavor of him burst over her taste buds—whiskey and chocolate and hot male. His fingers stroked over her shoulders and down her back, warming skin that had cooled in the night air. His movements were unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to taste her. She’d expected a swift claiming, but he feasted on her lips. It had been a long time since someone kissed her so thoroughly.

Or had done such a good job of it.

If she’d thought he got her revved up on the dance floor, it was nothing compared to this. Her nipples tightened to points, and her sex grew slick. The muscles in her thighs went taut, and she arched her body into him. She liked the feel of her curves pressing to his harder planes. He turned her so that her back was to her car, and the icy metal was a shocking contrast to his heat. Clenching her fingers in his jacket, she strained against him. He leaned into her, and she moaned. Four centuries of sex, and she still found that there was nothing, absolutely nothing, like the weight of a man on top of her. It could only be better if they were naked and he was between her thighs. The need to wrap her legs around his trim waist was overwhelming, but the tight skirt she wore made it impossible. Frustration clawed at her, her hormones reminding her again that it had been a long while since she’d made time for sex.

Her head dropped back, her breath rushing in pants. “No more checking. Let’s go.”

“Okay.” But he didn’t let her go. His tongue flicked across her throat, and he nipped at her skin.

Sliding his palm up her torso, he cupped her breast, circling her nipple with his thumb. Each sweep over the sensitive crest sent bolts of longing straight to her core, made her wetter, made her pussy clench on nothingness.

Gods, she wanted more, but she liked what he was doing now too much to stop.

The sound of someone walking toward them in the dark brought them both upright. She fisted her hands and tried not to blast the intruder with a spell that would make them think twice about interrupting people. The offender moved past them without stopping, which probably saved him or her from a torching.

Jack reached over and opened her car door for her, his expression flushed and strained with lust. His voice was rough, guttural. “You’ll follow me.”

“Yes.”

They got into their respective vehicles, and she tailed him to his place. He didn’t live too far, and traffic was light, thank gods. He pulled into the driveway of a tidy little bungalow, and she parked on the curb out front. Climbing out of the car, she looked around. The street was quiet, with only the faint hum of other Magickals in the distance. Unlikely the place was being watched. She hadn’t really thought so, but she hadn’t survived as long as she had by being sloppy. Her training as a cop only reinforced those instincts.

Jack came up behind her, his breath brushing over her ear. “Changing your mind?”

Goose bumps broke over her skin. Heat flashed through her, and she tilted her head to give him better access.

“Oh, really?” A wicked lilt filled his voice as he blew a cool breath of air against her ear, and she shuddered.

“It’s a very sensitive spot.” She swallowed. “For elves.”

“I will be taking full advantage of that. Very soon.”

She sighed, enjoying the desire sluicing through her. “I truly hope so.”

He flicked his tongue out to touch the slight point at the tip of her ear, and her knees went weak. A smile curved her lips. Gods, yes. This was exactly what she needed to wash the taste of wedding out of her mouth. Sex, hot and wild, or slow and soft. She didn’t care as long as there was a mind-blowing, can’t-even-remember-her-own-name-afterward orgasm in her near future. Several of them would be even better.

“Come inside.” He set his hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. His place didn’t look like a frat house, which was always a worry with single human males. The building was neat and either white or pale yellow, she couldn’t tell in the porch lighting.

Jack unlocked the door and ushered her inside. No beer lights or posters of lingerie models. The décor was bachelor chic. Big leather couch, stark white walls, dozens of unframed photos propped on the fireplace mantel. Curiosity stirred inside her, and she wanted to take a closer look, but he locked the front door behind them and pulled her back against his hard body.

A gasp strangled out of her as his heat surrounded her. The iron bar of his erection pressed to her buttocks. Her sex went as hot and damp as it had been while they danced. She could almost see the sparks of chemistry between them. Or maybe it was her magic igniting as it did when she was sexually aroused. She licked her lips, let her head fall against his shoulder, and reached back to bracket his thighs with her hands. Desire twisted through her, and she relished the flare of fire within her. She wanted to lose herself in this, wanted to push the entire world and every second of her history away until there was nothing but the searing intensity of this moment.

The deep well of magic inside her boiled up, and she felt pleasure spells dance over her skin, slipping from her fingertips and out to him. His breath hissed, and he jerked when her energy hit him. She froze, a bit of uncertainty slicing through her lust. “Um ... you’ve had sex with a Magickal before, haven’t you? The pleasure spells aren’t going to freak you out?”

He was a Normal, but she’d assumed since he knew about magic that he’d have tried out some of the extra party favors Magickals brought to the bedroom. She was suddenly glad to be facing away from him so she didn’t have to look him in the eyes while she asked those questions.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Don’t worry, Grayson. You’re not popping my Normal-Magickal cherry.”

She snorted. “Good, because I like my pleasure spells.”

“Then, by all means, enjoy yourself.” He bit the side of her neck, then soothed the sting with his tongue. His palms skimmed up the front of her dress until he could cup her breasts.

Her nipples drew to peaks, thrusting into his palms. His fingers stroked the tight nubs, and her hands clenched on the muscles of his thighs, spells pouring out of her. Tiny forks of lightning wound up her arms and sizzled from her fingertips. He shuddered and pinched her nipples hard, twisting them until she cried out.

Then he nipped at her earlobe and ran his tongue up to the point of her ear. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she pressed herself deeper into his embrace, her heart pounding, her breath speeding.

“Kiss me.” The feel of his lips against hers had been divine, and she wanted it again.

He spun her around, and she swayed precariously on heels she wasn’t used to wearing. She clamped her hands on his shoulders to keep herself upright. His mouth brushed over hers, light, fleeting, leaving her wanting. Pushing at his jacket, she slid it off his shoulders.

His fingers thrust into her hair, pulling her head back until her throat was bared to his lips. His mouth opened on her skin, sucking and biting at her flesh. A moan dragged from her, and she let her eyes drift closed. Living as long as she had meant not much surprised her anymore, but the strength of her reaction to this human was unexpected. She spent her entire life in control, and she loved letting loose during sex. It made her feel alive, and it was a release valve she craved.

She tugged at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it from his pants so she could touch his skin. Hard muscle covered with smooth skin. Nice. His teeth scored the sensitive tendon that connected neck to shoulder, and her nails curled into his back, a spell pouring out of her that would feel like fire singeing his flesh.

“Jesus,” he groaned. “Fuck.”

She laughed, her eyes opening. “Something like that. Though we’re not quite to the fucking part yet.”

“We’ll get there.” His lips curved against her skin, and it made her smile in return.

“Sooner is better than later.” She jolted him with another spell. “I’m not getting any younger, babycakes.”

He laughed at that, pulling back to give her an incredulous look. “You did not just call me babycakes.”

She arched her brows and gave him a wicked look. “I sure did. What are you going to do about it?”

Instead of answering, he reached out and neatly flipped her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. She cracked up and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. When was the last time she’d laughed or smiled this much during a sexual encounter? She couldn’t remember, but it was fun. After the day she’d had, she’d take a little fun.

The blood rushed to her face with the world upside down the way it was, and she pushed out against his back to try to keep some balance. A quick self-defense spell could get her out of this pretty easily, but she didn’t want to escape. She wanted to see what kind of tricks this man had up his sleeve, magic or no magic.

Flicking on a light switch, he strode into a room off the hallway. He shrugged and let her tumble unceremoniously onto the mattress. She shoved her hair out of her face and fell back on her hands, arching her torso just to torment him. His gaze zeroed in on her breasts, just as she’d hoped, and the heat in his gaze was enough to burn her skin.

“Come here.” She crooked a finger at him, barely managing to stop it from becoming a summoning spell that would compel him to do as she wished. “Or, better yet, strip. I want to watch.”

“Oh, yeah?” He arched an eyebrow. His hands went to his tie, his long fingers working the knot free and sliding it from his neck.

She twitched her fingers, and every button on his shirt slipped free. He looked down and blinked, then snorted and shook his head. Shrugging out of the garment, he went to work on his belt and zipper, while she got to enjoy the view of his muscled chest flexing with every movement.

Damn, the man was well built. Her thighs squeezed together at the thought of having her hands on all that bare male flesh. His shoulders were broad and tapered to narrow hips. Dark hair formed a neat triangle that stretched between his flat little nipples. His abs were hard ridges that she wanted to run her tongue over before she nipped at his belly button.

His pants hit the floor, and she sighed in appreciation. His legs were long, his thighs heavy with muscles, and her gaze traveled up to his cock. It jutted boldly, curving to just below his navel now that it was free of restraint.

“Now you,” he said.

Nodding, she held out a hand for him to help her off the bed. This dress all but shackled her legs. “You’re going to have to get the zipper for me.”

She could have used magic, but she’d rather have his hands on her naked skin. He pulled her upright, then spun her so he could unfasten the back of her dress. Heaving a sigh as the tight silk loosened, she let the fabric puddle around her feet. She stepped out of her heels and kicked the dress aside.

“Nice.” He hummed in approval when he took in the lacy scraps she wore. In that dress, only a strapless bra and thong panties would work. She reached behind her and unhooked the bra. It fell and she pushed her underwear down. The fire in his gaze as he took in her nudity was enough to scorch her. It was just the kind of look every woman liked to have aimed at her. Hot, worshipful, full of sharp need.

He jerked her roughly against him, and they both groaned at the contact. The crisp hair on his chest scraped her sensitized nipples, and she shifted her torso to increase the friction. His hard shaft burned into her belly, and she wanted him inside her. Cream gushed in her sex, and her knees gave out when he suckled her earlobe, trailing his tongue up to the very tip of her ear.

He caught her, eased her back onto the bed. They lay on their sides facing each other. He moved down to feather kisses over her collarbone and into the valley between her breasts. Turning his head, he caught her nipple with his teeth.

“Oh. Gods.” What he was doing with that mouth should be criminal, it was so good. Tingles erupted down her limbs, and she slipped her hands into his hair, holding him where he was. His lips closed over the tip of her breast and sucked hard, drawing her into the wet heat of his mouth.

Tightening her fingers, she couldn’t hold back a wave of magic, the feel of it building inside her so erotic she almost screamed. He groaned when it hit him, and she knew he felt in that spell how much she craved him right now. “Inside me.”

He let her nipple slide free and she pulled him up to kiss her mouth. Their tongues twined, dueled for control of the kiss. She hooked her leg over his hip and opened herself for him. No more waiting. The head of his cock pressed to her entrance, and he eased into her. One inch, then two. Gods, he was thick. She breathed through her nose and focused on relaxing so she could take all of him. It had been awhile since her last affair, and she was tighter than she’d expected to be.

The sharpness of pain mixing with pleasure made her anticipation spike. She gripped his arm, tried to pull him closer, make him give her more. Excitement billowed within her, the last few hours had pushed her too far for caution or care. She moaned, shoving her hips forward to force him deeper inside her.

He groaned as he hilted himself in her pussy. “Jesus. Christ.”

“Hurry.” She rolled her pelvis, wanting more, craving it with a ferocity she hadn’t felt in damn near forever.

Drawing back until she felt the head of his cock catch on the edge of her channel, he plunged deep. Her nails bit into his bicep, but she didn’t protest the swiftness of his thrust.

No, it was exactly what she needed.

He kept up that rhythm, slowly withdrawing and then shoving back in. Her sex clenched each time he pushed into her, which made him groan, but he wasn’t going fast enough to tip her over into orgasm. She tightened her leg around his hip, tilting her hips to take him even deeper. “Faster. More.”

“Yes.” He shoved into her pussy, gave her what she demanded. His thrusts picked up speed and kept that intense force. He hit her in just the right spot each time. Moving with him was as natural as breathing, and her heart hammered so loudly she could hear its pounding in her ears.

The feel of his rougher skin against hers was erotic, and every time he entered her, a wave of magic blasted out of her, fire and lightning that arced and wound around them. His breathing hitched, but his movements remained steady, hard and fast and just what she needed to push her to the breaking point. Her nipples rasped against the hair on his chest, the stimulation perfect. When he rolled his pelvis against her clit, she mewed in delight.

“Jack!” She twisted against him, so close to that edge she could taste it.

He gripped her knee, pulling her even wider for his thrusts. “This is so fucking good.”

“Yes, yes!” And it was. Considering how long she’d been sexually active, that was really saying something.

Their skin slapped together with each movement, the mattress squeaking beneath them, sweat gliding down their bodies. Everything about this became a sensual stimulant, the scent, the feel, all of it.

His lungs bellowed, his breath rushing against her ear. She shivered at even that subtle contact. He turned his head and nipped at her lobe. Stars burst behind her lids, and her body locked in shock. “Jack!”

Pleasure exploded deep inside her, burst out in pure magic, and sent her flying into oblivion.

He shouted as the spell wrapped around them, lightning dancing over their skin. Shoving his cock deep, he ground himself against her, jets of come filling her for long, protracted moments. Then they collapsed, sweat sealing their skin together, hearts pounding. Every bit of tension leached from her body.

He rolled to his back and pulled her against him. “How are you?”

“Peachy. How about you?” She draped her leg over his and relaxed bonelessly in his arms, her voice slurring as if she’d gotten drunk on the endorphins. Maybe she had. The thought made her grin. “Pleasure spells didn’t fry your circuits or anything?”

His palm drifted up and down her arm, a low chuckle rumbling from him. “Nope, but if you want to be sure, you can feel free to check my circuits any time you want.”

She laughed softly and stroked her fingertips up his thigh. In a few minutes, she’d take him up on that offer. Right now, she wanted to savor this. She sighed and let her eyes drift shut, bliss unfurling inside her. There really was nothing like a good orgasm to take her mind off what ailed her.

Yeah, this was exactly the kind of distraction she’d needed tonight. A satisfied grin tugged at her lips as she slipped over the edge into unconsciousness.

3

She bolted upright in bed when an air raid siren went off. For a second, she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming about being a nurse back in World War II. But she was clearly awake and the siren kept wailing. “What the fuck?”

Shoving her hair out of her face, she tried to figure out where the hell she was. A door flipped open, flooding the room with light. She flinched back from the brightness, throwing a hand up to deflect the glare.

“Ah, shit.” Jack jogged out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and snatched up his cell phone. “Laramie.”

It was all she could do not to drool, watching those muscles flex as he moved. He was freshly shaven, and she wanted to feel that smooth skin against hers. His dark hair was damp and disheveled, beads of water slipping down his flesh and clinging to his chest hair. She’d seen hundreds of gorgeous men in her life. Thousands, even. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d reacted this strongly to one of them.

It was delicious.

It made no sense, but she didn’t give a damn because it felt great. Last night had been a lot of fun, and that was something she didn’t have much of anymore. She grinned and let herself enjoy the view.

His blue eyes darkened as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Yeah. Okay. Got it. I’ll be there.”

Tapping the screen to end the call, he gave her a wary glance. She snorted. “I’m not going to freak. I’ve had work interrupt things before. You have to leave now?”

“Immediately, if not sooner.” He flashed a relieved smile, then bent and scribbled something in a small notebook on the nightstand. He tore off the sheet and handed it to her. “The security code that will lock the house up behind you. You don’t need to rush out. Feel free to sleep in, shower, grab some coffee before you go. I have a pot brewing in the kitchen. I’m really sorry about this.”

“You’re trusting me with your alarm code?” Her eyebrows arched, and she couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice.

His grin widened. “I’ll change it when I get home. If I’ve been robbed between now and then, I know where to find you for questioning.”

“True enough.” She lay back in bed and folded her hands behind her head. The blanket slipped so that her breasts were bared, but she didn’t bother to straighten it.

A low growl rumbled up from his chest, and he bent down to draw her nipple into his mouth. She choked on a breath, her torso arching under the sudden lash of pleasure.

“Jack!” She drove her fingers into his hair, twisting tight.

His hand closed over the other breast, the calluses on his fingers rasping against her sensitive flesh as he tweaked and twisted the tight crest. His tongue swirled around her nipple, then he sucked hard and bit down. She sent a pleasure spell streaking down his scalp, and he shuddered and released her breast.

“You’re a dangerous woman.” His gaze glittered with hard lust, his thumb still chafing her nipple. “I have to go. I don’t want to, but I have to.”

“I understand.” She did. She’d been called in before in the middle of sex, not just the morning after. That had been awkward. Yeah, that guy had never graced her bed again, more because he’d been an ass about it rather than his unwillingness to sleep with her.

Jack pinched her nipple, recapturing her attention. “Have dinner with me tonight. I want more of you.”

She thought about it for about a half second. This wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a one-nighter, but the chemistry was great and he’d made her laugh. Why not let this thing ride for a bit? Good sex was hard to find. She’d had enough bad sex to know.

“Sure. Give me your phone.” He handed it over with no hesitation. She punched her number into his cell, which set hers to ringing in her purse ... which was out in the living room somewhere. “There. Call me when you’re done and I’ll let you know if work hasn’t messed with my day too much.”

“Perfect.” He bent down to brush his mouth over hers, the kiss soft. He tasted like minty toothpaste and sexy male. Not a bad combination. Drawing back, he shook his head. “And here I had plans to get up and make some breakfast for us before going another couple of rounds.”

“Hold that thought for tonight. You can make me dinner.” Why bother going out when they both just wanted to get to the main event? Might as well get down to getting down.

“Do you like French toast? That’s about the only thing I can cook well.” His grin was self-deprecating as he shucked his towel and pulled on clothes.

She yawned and nodded, soaking in the sight of all those muscles before he covered them up. “Sounds good to me. I’m not picky.”

“I’ll see you later.” He kissed her lightly on his way out the door.

“Okay.” Her body hummed from the aftereffects of sex. She grinned and stretched before she sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Time to get up and get home. Despite his offer to sleep in, she didn’t care to stay here while he wasn’t.

Her cell phone went off, and she jogged into the living room to fish it out of her purse. She punched the button to answer, pressing it to her ear. “Yes, sir?”

“The FBI just called. Kingston’s got a crime scene he wants you to look over.” The captain’s voice was rusty from sleep, and he sounded grumpy as hell. Then again, he always sounded pissed off. “Something you worked on before, I take it. Go see what you can do.”

He rattled off an address, which she scrawled on a notepad Jack had on his coffee table. “I’ll be there in half an hour, sir.”

“Good,” he barked before he hung up.

She had no idea what case she’d worked on with Merek that he might need her help with. Her former partner could handle himself in any situation. But what was he doing at a crime scene on his wedding night? Curiosity got the best of her, which was one of the reasons she’d done well as a detective. She liked a good puzzle, a challenge.

Getting back into her skintight dress was a bitch, but she didn’t bother to zip it all the way. She hustled out to her car, grabbed the gym bag she always kept in her trunk—or at least since the first time a junkie suspect had thrown up on her—and jogged back into the house.

The bathroom was tidier than she would have guessed for a bachelor living alone, but she wasn’t about to question that bit of good fortune. She twisted the knob to turn on the water and spent a few blissful minutes under the hot spray while she soaped, lathered, and rinsed. Wrapping a towel around herself, she fished a toothbrush and comb out of her bag and made quick work of her teeth and hair. One of the things she loved about modern hairstyles was that she could wear it really short. Easy and low-maintenance. So much better than when women had had to keep it long and wear it coiffed.

On her way out the door, she grabbed a travel mug from the kitchen cabinet, filled it to the brim with the coffee Jack had left, and screwed on the lid. Within moments, she’d keyed in the security code to lock the doors behind her, and she was in her car, heading for the address she’d been given. Taking a swig of coffee, she sighed when the caffeine began to buzz through her system. She’d have liked a little more time to sit and enjoy it, but no such luck.

“Crime waits for no man. Or woman.”

The place was pristine. The living room was freshly dusted, the wood floors polished to a high gleam.

Usually there was an air of something not quite right about a crime scene, but this apartment? Was spotless. Nothing looked out of place.

Until Jack turned the corner into the hallway. There, the house turned into a gruesome mockery of the cleanliness he’d seen before. Here, the stench of blood assaulted his nostrils and he coughed. Broken pictures dangled from nails on the wall. A large round hole showed where something had been shoved through the drywall. If he were going to hazard a guess, he’d say it was someone’s head that got slammed through. A tooth had been knocked loose from someone’s mouth and lay in the middle of the gore-splattered carpet runner.

Whatever had happened here had been unmistakably brutal, with unspeakable rage behind it.

In the bedroom, he found he was right. Crime scene analysts swarmed the room, collecting evidence. Hairs, fibers, fingerprints. Every inch of the place would be gone over, using human technology and Magickal spells to decipher any clue that might tell them who ... or what ... had done this.

But Jack’s gaze skimmed over the other agents and went straight to the bed. A petite blond woman’s dead body lay sprawled facedown on the mattress, her pajamas soaked in her own blood. The damage in this room was even worse than in the hallway. She’d been shot twice, and that was just the start of her wounds. Twin puncture wounds scored the side of her neck, with dried crimson stains trailing down from the gaping holes.

Her face seemed locked in an expression of horror, her blank eyes open and staring.

One of her front teeth was gone, a bloodied socket in its place. Her lips were split and swollen, and huge bruises slashed over the pieces of skin he could see. The rest of her flesh was sickening in its ghostly paleness. A blackened mark was burned into one bare arm, and Jack knew the sign of dark, evil magic when he saw it.

“Welcome to the party.” A redheaded woman shot him a glance as she set down a kit to collect evidence and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. Tess Jones, the MCU’s new medical examiner. Also the maid of honor at the wedding the day before, though her finery had been exchanged for sensible pants, loafers, and a jacket emblazoned with FBI on the back.

She was probably one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and she was smarter than she was pretty, which was saying something. Still, when she’d stood next to Selina in the wedding party, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of the slender elf.

“What happened?”

The redhead arched her eyebrows. “I just got here, but it looks like a vampire drained her. Completely.”

“Black magic.” He nodded to the mark he’d noticed.

“Yeah, I saw that.” Tess’s gloved hand motioned to it. “Usually the fanged races can’t cast spells very well, but it could just be the darkness of the Magickal who did this.”

“Magic can be funny that way.” And the vampire would have to be one dark SOB to leave that kind of mark behind without casting a spell. Jack tugged a pair of gloves out of his pocket and pulled them on. Stepping closer, he crouched down to get a better look at the body. The woman appeared to be in her midthirties, but age in Magickals could be deceiving.

Aside from the dark mark, the blisters down her arms and legs were obviously from one of the Magickal allergies. Werewolves reacted this way to silver, vampires to sunlight, witches to bronze, and Fae and elves to iron. The scorched, broken flesh over her body meant she’d been worked over pretty thoroughly. A few puncture marks indicated she might have been stabbed by the metal she was allergic to.

Her nails were broken and bloody, multiple bruises standing out on her too-pale skin. She’d put up one hell of a fight.

“Are we looking at sexual assault?” She wore clothes, but those could have been put on postmortem.

Tess took a breath. “I don’t think so, but I won’t have anything conclusive until I run some tests.”

“Luca said over the phone that the FBI was called in because she’s a federal official. A bureaucrat, not a field agent, though. He didn’t give me a name. What do we know about her?” He turned to look at one of the CSUs who was dusting for prints. The man nodded and silently handed over a wallet that had been sealed inside a plastic bag. Washington State driver’s license. Credentials that said she worked for the Bureau, but he’d never met her. “Mary Winston. Age thirty-three. Or so this ID says.”

“She’s not thirty-three, that I can tell you.” Tess scraped whatever skin cells there were out from under the victim’s fingernails. She might have clawed her attacker in the fight, which would give them some DNA to work with. “The Bureau database and the All-Magickal Council will have her real age and any other aliases they’ve issued her to cover her real identity from the mere mortals of the world.”

Jack cast her a wry glance. “Well, this mere mortal will run down her information with the FBI and the Council later.”

“I was a mere mortal not long ago.” The redhead flashed a small, tight grin that showed a hint of an extended werewolf canine.

“I know.” He refocused on the body decomposing before them. “What race of Magickal is she?”

Not one of the fanged races, he didn’t think. She would have healed too quickly to still be showing this amount of damage. Not an elf, because her ears didn’t have that subtle point to them. Since there were only five races of Magickals, that left witches and—

“Fae.” Luca stepped into the bedroom. “I’d guess Fae. That’s what her blood smells like to me.”

A palpable tension filled the room, as it always seemed to when Tess and Cavalli were in the same vicinity. On the one hand, Tess was the best coroner Jack had ever worked with, so he could see why Luca had insisted she be assigned to the Magickal side of the FBI rather than let her stay with the Normals. On the other hand, there was a certain level of masochism on his boss’s part that Jack didn’t even want to contemplate. As long as it didn’t affect their work—and both were too professional to let that happen—Jack tried to ignore it. The rest of the unit was doing the same, as far as he could tell.

He didn’t even want to think about the way Peyton had been holding her on the dance floor the night before.

Jack broke the heavy silence first. “This tells us two things. First, whoever did this knew her well enough to know she was a Magickal.” He lifted his fingers to tick off his points. “Second, he knew what kind of Magickal she was, because he used the metal she was allergic to.”

Tess looked away from the big vampire and met Jack’s gaze. “I can tell you he also used rounds made of the metal she was allergic to.” She indicated the flesh around the bullet holes. “See how it’s blackened at the edges with some blistering? Regular Magickal bullets wouldn’t do that. They have a shell casing that looks like a normal bullet. They’re explosive and armor-piercing rounds with fragments of all the allergen metals, as well as loaded with a sunbeam spell to fry the vampires when they explode. So Magickal ammunition wouldn’t have caused an allergic reaction until it burst inside of her. This bullet was made of iron.” The redhead shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got for you for now. I’ll be able to tell you more once I get her body back to my lab.”

“Good.” He rose to his feet and stepped aside. “Let me get out of your way so you can work.”

“Appreciate it, thanks.” Tess dug through her kit and turned away, her mind already on the task at hand. “I’ll let you know if I find anything worth mentioning. Check back with me later this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” He jerked his chin to indicate Cavalli follow him out into the living room.

Faint amusement showed on the vampire’s face, but other than a last glance at Tess, he did as Jack wanted. “Afraid I’ll distract her?”

“If by ‘distract’ you mean ‘irritate, annoy, and/or piss off,’ then, yes, that’s what I’m afraid of.” Jack gave him a pointed look, which only seemed to amuse him more.

“Fair enough.” Luca nodded, his face falling in to more somber lines. “I brought Kingston in first to read the scene, and he’s just finishing up.”

Disbelief wound through Jack. His boss was kidding, right? “Merek is on his honeymoon.”

“Not for another couple of hours, he’s not.” Luca rolled his shoulders in an expressive shrug.

The man was a machine, that was all Jack could think. Even for a vampire, that was cold-blooded. He shook his head. “That’s fucked up.”

“That’s the job.” Not an ounce of remorse showed on his boss’s face. “It’s not as if I’m having him cancel anything. He’ll make his flight.”

“Chloe might kill you if you dicked with her honeymoon. If she didn’t, her aunt definitely would.” He might not know either woman that well personally, but they were Standish witches. Enough said.

Cavalli snorted, but he didn’t argue the point. “It’s your case when Kingston leaves, so I’d suggest getting everything you can from his reading before he goes.” Cocking his wrist, he looked at his Rolex. “I have another case to check in on. One that’s going to have the media crawling all over it. I would imagine there’s a press conference in my very near future.”

“Have fun with that.” Jack folded his arms over his chest. “What makes the case a media magnet?” People died every day, and it might make the paper, but it hardly called for a press conference. Or involvement from the FBI. Most murders fell under the jurisdiction of the police.

“That Karsen actor guy was murdered at a sex club last night. Naked and doing some things that most humans find a little disturbing. The police asked us to step in and provide them with a little extra manpower considering the media frenzy shit storm that’s coming.”

“You going to be okay out there? The sun’s bright today.” The Pacific Northwest was probably one of the more hospitable environments for vampires on the planet. The amount of fog and cloud cover they had annually made it more likely vamps could go out during the day. Today was not one of those days.

“My car is in the garage here, and the club has underground parking.” Luca shrugged and didn’t mention the heavily tinted windows on his vehicle. “I’ll do the press conference indoors.” He nodded toward a door off the living room. “And here’s Kingston.”

The door swung open, and Luca flinched as the light flooded in from the backyard. He took a quick step back when a shaft of sunshine hit his shoes. Peyton, the werewolf agent Jack had seen with Tess the night before, stepped in. His cool gaze took in Luca’s movements, but he said nothing, which was his normal operating procedure. He nodded and moved aside for Merek.

The warlock’s face was pale, his mouth pinched. Jack arched his eyebrows. “As trite as it sounds, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Merek grimaced. “The ghost of Christmas future, maybe.”

That sobered Jack up, and he pulled out a notebook to write down anything the other man might have to say about the situation. Merek’s precognition was the most powerful anyone had ever heard of, and Jack had quickly learned to pay attention when the man spoke about his visions. “You saw another victim coming?”

“Not exactly.” His smile was nothing short of dour. “I did see a few interesting things about our guy, but not much.”

Surprising. Kingston was usually spot-on and clear when he had a vision. This was the first time Jack had ever heard him say he wasn’t certain about the details. He wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he filed that piece of information away for examination later. It might be important to their case, whether he knew it yet or not.

“I need to go.” Luca checked his watch again. “I’ve called in Grayson, as Merek requested. We’ll have her for as long as we need her, or so your former captain assured me. He was most accommodating.”

If anything, Kingston looked even grimmer. “Good. She needs to be here.”

“Grayson? Detective Selina Grayson? As in, Merek’s old partner?” As in, the elf Jack had spent the night screwing like a mink in heat? The reminder sent a wave of lust rolling through his body. He’d been actively not thinking about her since the moment he’d left her, and that had only been made possible by the knowledge that he’d have her in his bed again tonight.

“The one and only.” Luca turned for the door that led to the garage. “She should arrive within a few minutes. Her house isn’t that far from here.”

Neither was Jack’s, thankfully, since she wasn’t at her place right now.

Possibilities nagged at Selina the entire drive over to the address the captain had given her. The FBI wanting to see her was not how she liked to start her day. Law enforcement agencies more or less played well together, but generally speaking, she liked batting for her own team and having everyone else stay out of her way.

Then again, how often did anyone ask her what she wanted? In this job, she went where she was told, but since it gave her something constructive to do with her old age and let her bust bad guys for a living, she’d take it. A century ago, this career path hadn’t even been an option for a woman. She sipped from the cup of coffee she’d swiped from Jack’s house. It had either been shower and steal his coffee, or not shower and stop at Starbucks on the way.

Reeking of sex when there were werewolves in the vicinity was not something she was willing to do. She had no shame in her sex life, but there was no need to advertise. Especially when many of these people knew the scent of the man she’d been shagging.

Pulling up to the curb behind a long line of police vehicles, she draped her badge from a chain around her neck and stepped out to survey the crowd that gathered outside the yellow caution tape. Nothing out of the ordinary besides the Normal gawkers, but the police and /or FBI would have a few telepaths listening in on human thoughts to see if anyone had seen something they shouldn’t. Tweaking Normal memories was standard operating procedure in cases like this—it kept everyone safe.

A uniformed officer with the Seattle PD recognized her and held up the caution tape for her to pass under. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem, Detective.” He grinned at her, rolling his eyes. “The Feds have swooped in and taken over already.”

“I know. They called me in to assist.” She shrugged, not returning the smile. She’d found that offering too much familiarity at work caused problems in the male-dominated world of law enforcement. After the cracks everyone had made about her dress last night, she definitely wasn’t thawing out anytime soon.

She met Merek outside the door of a neat little Victorian cottage. He did not look happy to see her. She arched her eyebrows at him.

“You rang, dear?”

“Shut up.” Merek snorted and rubbed a hand down his face. His blond hair was mussed and his gray eyes bloodshot. “This one reminds me of something you described once. From back when you first became a cop. Looks like the same M.O.”

She sipped her coffee, considered offering him some, but then rejected that thought. She might like Merek more than any other partner she’d worked with, but this was coffee. A girl had to have her priorities. “For a man who’s supposed to be enjoying his wedding night, you look wrecked.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He gestured to the house. “I don’t want you here.”

“Why?” She walked around him and headed inside, following the trail of cops to a bedroom. The hallway was a bloody mess, so she figured whatever had taken place in the bedroom wasn’t going to be pretty. Tess was beside the bed, collecting evidence. She bent to pick something up, blocking Selina’s view.

When the redhead shifted out of the way, Selina got a good look at the body, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. It was like taking a hammer blow to the chest. Her heart stopped, and her lungs seized. Blood, death, destruction. She swayed on her feet and had to grab the doorjamb to remain upright. Not because she’d never seen anything this gruesome before, but because she’d seen this before. Memories swamped her, overlaying the picture in front of her. Only it wasn’t some nameless victim, it was Bess. The younger cousin whom Selina had helped raise, who had danced with so much boundless joy at her wedding, who had grown up to become her confidante, her closest friend.

Selina’s stomach revolted, and for a moment, she was certain she was going to vomit. Acid bile burned its way up her throat, tears stung her eyes, and her fingers tightened on the door frame, her nails scoring the wood. Oh, gods. Oh. Gods.

Bess’s killer was back. It had been decades since she’d been murdered, and now he was back.

“You know why I don’t want you here,” Merek growled behind her.

His words slapped her back to reality, and a frosty numbness began to harden within her. It was almost a relief. At least it was familiar. She’d felt this numbness, this nothing, since Bess had died. Since she’d failed to catch the killer. That still had the power to rip open a hole in her soul. Her cousin’s murderer had never been caught. It had been her case, and she had failed when it meant the most.

So, yeah, she knew why Merek didn’t want her here, and he also knew why she had to be here. For Bess. Selina glanced at her former partner. He didn’t want her here because his visions had been predicting this for quite some time. This was going to be the case that killed her. Her very long life was going to hit its inevitable end. He hadn’t known specific details, just that she would die on the job. Soon. And it would be a bloody, gory exit for her.

“Yeah, New Orleans. The serial killer who got away from me thirty years ago. It’s funny how things come full circle.” She huffed out a small laugh, even as icy fingers gripped her heart. The same iciness that had frozen her since she’d seen her baby cousin sprawled across a bed, tortured by iron, drained of all blood, and marked by black magic.

“You don’t have to get involved.” Merek crossed his arms, looking big and rough and intimidating.

She cut him the kind of glance reserved for simpletons. “And let the bastard get away, knowing I could have done something this time? No. You know I have to be involved. This is me. I don’t walk away, and I sure as hell don’t back down.”

Not once in four hundred plus years. It had gotten her into a lot of trouble before, too, and she still didn’t back down. She figured at this point in her life, she was too damn old to go changing habits now. And even if she wanted to—this evil bloodsucker had killed Bess. No. There was no walking away from this.

He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to like it, Kingston. It is what it is.” She’d had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind for over a year now. Huge change was coming, looming over her like some creeping, insidious shadow. The end of life as she knew it. All of it would be over. She’d heard that older Magickals could often sense when the finish line drew near, and this was it. She’d come to accept it, even if Merek hadn’t. Then again, the control freak in him didn’t like that he couldn’t save everyone. He’d get over it eventually. There were some things that could be controlled, and others not so much. Death was not one of those things. It had come for Bess far too soon.

Selina sighed, shaking her head at him. “If one of us shouldn’t be here, it’s you. You’re supposed to be leaving on your honeymoon. Don’t let this hold you back.”

“Cavalli wanted me to get a read on this before I skipped town, so I came by. All my precognition showed me when I got here was you.” He swallowed hard. “Dead.”

A chill went though her at that one simple word. She’d known it, but it was one thing to see a live bomb, and a whole different thing to be holding the bomb in her hands. It hit her once again.

Boom.

Here it was. This was it. The case that would end all cases. Also the case that had stolen the last person she had ever loved, the last person in her family who’d given a damn about her. Now they were all gone, whether they loved her or loathed her. Some lines had flourished over the centuries, but not the Graysons. Selina was the last, and there would be no more after her. If she could give her cousin’s afterlife a little peace before she went, she’d take it and be grateful for the chance to get some justice for all this bastard’s victims.

Including herself, it seemed.

She cleared her throat, casting about for something else to talk about. “Chloe is a very understanding woman for letting the FBI interrupt her wedding night.”

He grinned, his face relaxing for the first time since she’d arrived. “I’ll make it up to her later.”

“You do that. Now tell me what you know.”

4

Jack was here.

Of course he was. He was on the MCU, why wouldn’t he be here? Somehow Selina hadn’t considered seeing him in a professional capacity. It ruined a little of the carefree sexual glamour of the night before. Then again, any reminder of this old case wasn’t likely to put her in the mood. She kept her face free of expression when he stepped in from the hallway and looked at her. From across a dead body.

“Agent Laramie.”

His blue eyes were even more brilliant in the light of day, the color pale as a laser beam and just as incisive as he stared at her. A little smile kicked up the corner of his mouth, and it kicked her heart rate up a notch. “Detective Grayson. Nice to see you again.”

Since other people were in the room with them, she merely nodded. Clearing her throat, she glanced at Merek. “You were saying?”

The big warlock had gone rigid, his eyes glazing the way they did when a strong vision hit him. He shuddered and blinked. “I was saying that the only real thing I could tell you was the perp was male and came in through one of the back windows, but even a human could have figured that part out.”

“Yeah, even a human could. It was pretty obvious to me anyway.” Jack rolled his eyes, and Selina suppressed a snort.

“Let’s keep the Normal cracks to a minimum.” Her gaze swept the room, and though she had zero jurisdiction here, most of the Magickals met her eyes and nodded. Age gave her authority where her badge didn’t.

“You just had a vision,” Jack pointed out, his gaze sharpening on the big warlock. “About this case?”

Merek nodded, sweat beading on his forehead, which he ignored. “You need to be involved.”

“It’s my case. So ... yeah.”

“No, somehow a ...” He shook his head. “A more positive outcome is possible if Selina and you are working on it together. And I know how weak that sounds for a vision, but that’s all I’ve got for you.”

“Positive, as in Jack solves the case?” Which was good, since she had no idea at what point in this process she was going to bite it. Hopefully, after she helped nail this son of a bitch. Rage ripped through her system, memories assaulting her of other people this man had killed, the crime scenes so eerily familiar it made her skin crawl. Victims who’d been beaten to within an inch of their lives, then drained of blood, clinching the deal. She’d seen a lot of ugly shit in her life, especially since she’d become a cop, but this case had always made her stomach curdle.

Her cousin’s blank, staring eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life. Was it any wonder her psyche had never let this one go?

The guy had never been caught, never committed another murder in that signature style in New Orleans for her years there. So, why here, why now? Why a thirty-year gap between murders? She damn well wanted to know, and the fact that she hadn’t caught him back then meant that this woman had died.

Not again.

If a positive outcome required Jack, then so be it. She didn’t like it much, but that was just too bad, wasn’t it? Fate didn’t really give a shit what she wanted. Never had, never would. Best to put on her big-girl panties and deal with it.

Merek sighed. “Positive, as in, I have no fucking clue. You know how this can be sometimes.”

Yeah, she did. Something few people knew about Merek’s powerful precognition was that it went on the fritz with people he was close to. A blessing, considering he didn’t have to watch his loved ones die in visions like he’d had with her, but a curse because it meant he couldn’t help them when they needed it the most. That had nearly gotten Chloe and Alex killed the year before, and Selina knew it ate at him. Even with her, his visions tended to be ... incomplete and staticky. Too many years as her partner made him a little too close to her to have full visions anymore. Something else that she was sure bothered him.

“All right, we’ll do our best.” She straightened her shoulders. “You get to your flight. Have one of the uniforms drive you and put the blue lights on.”

“Not necessary.”

“Yeah. Necessary.”

He wavered for a minute, uncertainty flashing across his face. “Maybe I shouldn’t—”

“Go, Kingston.” She jerked her thumb toward the door. “As someone who’s lived for a hell of a lot longer than you, let me assure you that there will always be another crisis around the bend. The rest of us can handle this. Go on your honeymoon. Start your marriage off on the right foot, without serial killers or werewolf terrorists.”

He winced and nodded. “Point taken.”

When he was gone, she was left with Jack. And all the agents and cops in the house, but few of whom she knew on more than a nodding acquaintance. She drew in a breath and let it ease out. “Well, this day went to shit really fast.”

Jack pitched his voice low. “And here I thought we’d be spared the awkward morning-after talk.”

Coughing into her fist, she covered a startled laugh.

“It’s sad you’re not wearing the bridesmaid dress.” His voice turned into a low rumble that made her insides clench. He’d used the same tone before he’d slid his cock inside her the night before. “It did amazing things for your ass.”

She had to work to suppress her grin, something she’d never have guessed she’d do any time soon after she’d seen that victim’s body. “Sorry, I’m so not doing the walk of shame in front of my colleagues. There were a lot of people who saw me in that dress yesterday, who might put two and two together on why I might still be wearing it this morning.”

“Good thing we showered the sex off of us, or the fangs would smell it.” He seesawed his hand through the air, his face sober, as if they were talking about something of vital importance to the case.

“Uh-huh. I guess that’d be the stink of shame?”

Now it was his turn to cough-laugh, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth.

She shrugged. “I’ve never been with another cop. Agent. Whatever.”

“No?” Surprise reflected on his face, as well as a flash of masculine pride. “I was your first, huh?”

Rolling her eyes, she resisted the urge to smack him. Barely. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. Sex is a completely separate thing from my job. Otherwise things get messy, and you compromise your ability to work and your credibility to your colleagues.”

Especially if you were a woman. She didn’t say that last part out loud, but even in Magickal branches of law enforcement, this was a boys’ club. She had to be better than the men to be considered equal.

She only hoped she was better than this killer. She had a lot more experience than she’d had back then, and technology had come a long way in the intervening years. Considering her life was on the line here, she’d take any advantage she could get.

They stepped out of the way while Tess had the body tagged, bagged, and loaded on a gurney for transport to her lab. The crime scene analysts would be doing their things for hours more. Now they had to wait for the forensics and magic detections to give them some clues. Until then, they had to track down Mary Winston’s next of kin and break the news.

Always Selina’s least favorite part of the job.

The puzzle, the mystery, the challenge, she loved. The part where she had to tell people that a huge hole had just been ripped into their hearts was right down there with wrestling a suspect into submission while hip-deep in fresh sewage. In fact, she might just pick the sewage rumble.

Then again, this wasn’t officially her case, so she had no idea what she was supposed to do now. Something else she didn’t care for. She cleared her throat and watched the CSUs work. “So.”

“So.” Jack tilted his head forward to look her in the eyes. “Kingston said you needed to be here. Cavalli arranged for us to have you for as long as we need you. So. Tell me what you know about all of this.”

For as long as they needed her, huh? Great, nothing like getting loaned out indefinitely. Then again, time wasn’t exactly on her side anymore, was it? She sighed. “It would be an understatement to say that this is highly reminiscent of a series of murders we dealt with about thirty years ago in New Orleans.”

He jotted that down in the little notebook he’d had that morning. When she’d been naked and humming with satisfaction. Just the beginning of a long string of rude awakenings this day had served up so far.

He glanced up, his dark brows furrowed in thought. “How many murders?”

“Four.” Her jaw worked in order to get that out. Four people died, and now another. Five people dead, and she still knew no more than she had three decades ago.

“And you had no leads?”

“Nothing solid.” Drawing in another breath just had his scent filling her nose. Not a good thing if she wanted to keep her mind on business. “The killings stopped as abruptly as they started, and with nothing new to go on, I was told to drop it by the upper brass.”

“No DNA was left at the scene?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “DNA evidence didn’t come into police investigations until the latter half of the 1980s. This was before that time.”

He blinked for a moment, and she realized that during his career, he had always had DNA evidence. This was before his time, too.

Damn, she felt old.

He shook himself. “Okay, walk me through what you remember, and I’ll request the original files from New Orleans be dug out, dusted off, and sent over.”

She could probably recite everything that was in the files, but she didn’t say that. The FBI agents needed to see the paperwork for themselves. She didn’t mention that the pictures were of scenes that visited her nightmares. Looking down on Bess’s murdered corpse had disturbed her more than other atrocities she’d witnessed in her long life. War, famine, plague. She’d seen it all, but these four murders? They’d haunted her.

Why she knew to her bones that this wasn’t a copycat, she couldn’t say. It was him. How and why he’d ended up in Seattle, she didn’t know. But she’d find out when she caught him, locked him up, and threw away the key.

Finally.

It was strange having Selina Grayson in his office. She took up a lot more space than she should have, considering how petite she was.

Or maybe it was just Jack’s intense awareness of her that wouldn’t let him focus on anything but her. It wasn’t like him to have his mind drift off of work. When he was here, he was all here. Hell, when he wasn’t here, his thoughts were often preoccupied by his cases.

Usually, he liked it that way. It kept him from reminiscing about things he’d rather forget. If he kept busy, kept moving, he could outrun his ghosts. It had worked for him for almost two decades, so he went with it.

A short knock sounded on the door, and Peyton stepped in silently. He nodded to both of them, stroked his tie against his chest, and took the seat next to Selina. The man had a knack for fading into the woodwork when it suited him, and he made use of that talent. He was the most unassuming werewolf Jack had ever met.

Jack scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked at Selina. “I know it was a long time ago, but is there anything you noticed that was different about this scene than the ones you handled in New Orleans? Anything you can remember would be helpful right now.”

Her dark gaze cooled until not a single expression showed. “I’m pretty clear on the details. Senility hasn’t gotten me yet.”

Peyton snorted, what passed as a smile for him fluttering the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing. Selina didn’t so much as crack a grin, her lips a flat line.

Jack might have attempted to tease her into a laugh if they’d been alone, but they weren’t, and what she’d said at the Winston residence told him she didn’t want anyone to know they’d slept together. He kept his voice even. “That’s good to hear. Were there any obvious differences between your cases in New Orleans and this one?”

“No.” She crossed her legs, and his gaze dropped to her slim thighs. Those legs had cinched around his waist last night while she lit him up with pleasure spells. His body reacted predictably to that little trip down memory lane, but he ignored it and forced himself to look at her face. Her gaze was clear and cold. “For each crime scene, there was an obvious entry point—window, back door, balcony. We were never sure how he got through people’s spell shields on their homes, but it’s possible his victims didn’t use them. After he entered the residence, he shot them twice. There was always a violent attack that included the use of black magic and—when the victims were Magickals—the application of sunlight or allergen metals, followed by draining the victim’s body in their own bed. There was never any sign of sexual assault. That seems consistent with what I saw today, though you’ll have to wait for Tess and your CSUs to get back to you for something more conclusive.”

“You know how long it takes to process a scene, but Dr. Jones should be done with the autopsy later today or tomorrow. Or Monday, since tomorrow’s Sunday. It depends on how large her backlog is.” He shrugged. Since she was a cop, he didn’t have to explain. “Were there any connections between the victims?”

“None that we found. Different economic backgrounds, different areas or suburbs of the city, different friends, ages, jobs ... everything. They didn’t even use the same bank, eat in the same restaurants, or shop in the same grocery stores.” She blew out a breath at the incredulous look on Jack’s face. “Yes, we were desperate enough to examine their lives that closely. Two of the victims weren’t even Magickals. One was a human who’d married a Fae, the other was a Normal who’d been adopted by a Magickal couple.” She tapped her fingers against the arm of her chair. “That was the only connection we found. All the people this guy killed were Magickals who’d married Normals or Normals who knew about magic. Since vampires are notorious for their disdain of every other Magickal species, not to mention humans, we figured it was a bloodsucker taking his hate to the next level and punishing those who dared to mix.”

“I’ve put in a request with the NOLA PD to have those files sent here.” Peyton spoke for the first time, and Jack nodded.

Jack steepled his fingers together in front of him. “But Ms. Winston wasn’t married to a Normal, according to our records.”

Selina shook her head. “There has to be a connection, because that was no copycat. I’m certain of it.”

“Copycats can have an obsession to detail that—”

“I’m aware of that.” Her gaze bored into him. “But this isn’t a copycat, and Mary Winston had something to do with a Normal finding out about magic. We just haven’t found out how.”

Jack held up a hand in surrender. “Maybe, maybe not. We haven’t received her files from the All-Magickal Council yet, so maybe that will show more.”

He wasn’t sure which he hoped they’d find in those documents—that their victim hadn’t brought a Normal into the Magickal world, and this murder was just a freak coincidence in its resemblance to an older string of crimes, or that they found this was a serial killer resurfacing after decades of silence.

Neither was a good option. And no matter what the file showed them, he still had a dead body on his hands. Merek’s clairvoyance and Selina’s experience said this was connected to the murders in New Orleans. Even if he didn’t trust them or their Magickal precognition, he trusted his own instincts. They’d kept him alive through a war and countless deadly situations since joining the FBI. The way the hair prickled on the back of his neck told him that this resemblance was no coincidence.

They had a Magickal serial killer on their hands.

Fuck.

“Her next of kin might be able to tell us,” Selina pointed out.

As if on cue, the phone on his desk buzzed, and he scooped it up. It was the receptionist letting him know that Mary Winston’s sister had arrived. He sighed when he hung up.

Selina straightened in her seat. “The victim’s family?”

“Yep. Dorothy Lapinsky.” He looked to Peyton. “I’m hoping you can take care of something while we question her. Do you have any contacts on the Normal side of the Seattle PD?”

The wolf’s chin dipped in a nod, while Selina’s brow furrowed. Her fingers tapped a steady beat against the arm of her chair. “You think Ms. Winston might not be the first victim in Seattle.”

It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway. “It wasn’t a pattern we were looking for until now, and you said this guy targets Normals, too.” He shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”

Peyton rose to his feet. “I know a woman.”

With that semicryptic reply, the wolf exited as silently as he’d come, leaving the door open behind him. Jack knew that was all the information he’d get until Peyton decided otherwise. Getting full sentences out of the man could be like pulling teeth.

That was the last bit of attention he could spare for Peyton because he could see the receptionist through his doorway. Trailing in her wake was a woman with glasses that magnified her eyes so much she looked like a confused owl.

He glanced at Selina, but her face had turned to stone. If she’d been difficult to read before, it was impossible now. What had caused the change, he didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to find out. Sliding out from behind his desk, he held out his hand to Dorothy. “Mrs. Lapinsky, I’m Special Agent Jack Laramie. Call me Jack. And this is Detective Selina Grayson. Why don’t you come in and sit down?”

“Hello, Jack.” Her voice was as soft and fluttery as her appearance. “Mrs. Lapinsky is what we call my mother-in-law. I’m just Dorothy.”

He stepped back and motioned to the chair Peyton had vacated. Nodding his thanks to the receptionist, he shut the door to keep the conversation they were about to have private. It was hard enough to do this without an audience.

He hadn’t even resumed his seat when the woman burst into tears. “The voices told me that my dear sister is dead. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

Her voice rose to a birdlike screech, and he fought a wince. “The voices?”

“I have clair-au-au-audience.” The last word broke into pieces as she sobbed.

Well, he didn’t have to break the bad news. Her precognitive clairaudience had done it for him. Not for the first time, he was glad he hadn’t a drop of magic in him. He didn’t want little voices in his head.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur. Dorothy was a mess. Tears and snot dribbled from her chin onto her shirt as she talked and sobbed and gestured with the tissue Jack handed to her. Sympathy squeezed his insides. He knew what it was like to find out that someone he loved was lost forever. He knew how all the bullshit that might have occurred in the relationship fell away to nothing and all that was left was the loss. A gaping hole in the heart and life where that person had once been. Any possibility to have a better, closer, deeper relationship was gone. Time cut off. The present and future with that person ceased to exist. It was a shock to the system, and he’d seen people react to the news in many different ways. Some were stoic and calm, some fell apart like Dorothy.

None of it was easy.

And it was even harder when that loss came with the knowledge that someone else had stolen your loved one from you, ripping multiple lives apart. It was ugly and scary, and it twisted a person up inside. This was so clear a demonstration that the person who’d been killed wasn’t the only victim. Friends, family, co-workers. So many people could and would feel the ripple effect of loss.

This was also part of what drove him. Justice for all of the victims, not just catching the criminal.

He caught Dorothy’s hand, cutting off her rambling story about how Mary had always been so kind and sweet, even to their baby brother’s mean familiar. “Thank you, Dorothy. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know this is difficult, but it would really help our investigation if you could answer a few questions for us.”

Selina stirred in her chair, the first sign of life from her since Dorothy had informed them about her inner voices cluing her in to her sister’s death and her subsequent meltdown. Jack wasn’t sure what was going on with the detective, but now wasn’t the time, so he pushed away the concern that flared to life within him.

“We have reason to believe that the person who killed your sister might have wanted to make a statement about Magickals who brought Normals into the Magickal world.”

“My sister would never have broken the nondisclosure laws!” Indignation sparked in the woman’s tear-glutted gaze.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have.” He kept his voice quiet. He’d found that the quieter he got, the less upset and confrontational witnesses and suspects became. They had to lower their voices to hear his. “The records we have for her don’t indicate that she ever married a Normal. Is that true?”

Dorothy shook her head, her big eyes blinking, which made her look even more owl-like. “Her husband was a Fae. He died a hundred years ago. Maybe more.”

“And she never remarried?” Damn, he’d hoped something had fallen through the cracks. Because Mary didn’t seem to fit the pattern of the other victims.

“No, she didn’t.” Her brows drew together. “She always said she’d found the love of her life and anyone else would just be second best.”

“Was she ever involved in a Normal finding out about magic at all?” Selina leaned forward to ask the question.

Dorothy’s mouth opened to deny it, he could see it on her face, so he jumped in. “Really think about this, please. It may be something that helps us catch her killer.”

She paused for a long, protracted moment, and Jack knew they had it. The connection between this victim and the others. The missing piece.

“No. It couldn’t be something that small that got her killed.” Dorothy’s chin wobbled. “It couldn’t be.”

He squeezed her fingers again. “I’m afraid it could be. Tell me what happened, if you can.”

“Mary couldn’t have children. She was born without all her girl bits working correctly.”

He blinked at the term “girl bits,” but nodded to encourage the woman to keep talking.

“So they decided to adopt this young Normal boy. Things back then were less formal, you see, and children were often just put on trains and shipped out west to find families. And this boy ... Evan was his name. He was a sweet little thing. Sickly and small for his age, but smart as a whip. Mary just saw him and fell in love.”

Selina sat back. “She let him know about magic existing?”

“Well, of course,” Dorothy replied. “How else was she going to have him living with them? But ... but ... his health never did improve and he died a few years later. Mary was devastated. Cried for weeks, I’ll never forget it. But that was so long ago. Why would anyone hurt her because of that? She helped an orphan boy. She took him in and loved him and gave him a good life for the time he had left. And someone killed her for that?”

“We think so, yes,” Jack said quietly.

“Oh, gods. Oh, gods, who would do such a thing?” Her chin quivered and another tear spilled down her cheek. She looked every bit like a sad, lost woman who’d had the rug jerked out from under her. Her sobs were tragic, painful rasps of air, and Jack felt each of them punch him in the gut.

He glanced at Selina and the feeling of being gut-punched doubled. The look on her face was frozen horror. Not from this woman losing her cool, but in remembered pain. He’d seen that look on his own face in the mirror too many times not to recognize it. A flashback to memories he’d sooner forget, that wrenched at something deep and dark and ugly inside of him. Parts of himself that he’d rather let lie. It was part of the job, but he’d bet this memory was a lot more personal.

This case hit home for her in some way. He wanted to know how.

“Thank you for helping us fill in the missing pieces, Dorothy.” He rose to his feet and drew her up with him. “We really appreciate it.”

He walked her out toward the reception area where security would process her out of the building. Just before they got there, she turned to him. Her hand clutched his tightly, her owlish eyes reflecting desperation, anguish, and anger. “Promise me you’ll catch this man. Promise me he’ll never be able to hurt anyone again. My sister was a good woman. She didn’t deserve this.”

“I know she didn’t.” He touched her shoulder. “We’re going to do everything in our power to put this man away for the rest of his life. I promise you that.”

Because there was no way he could promise he’d catch anyone. Some criminals got away, just as this one had escaped Selina once. They could only do their best and hope to hell it was enough.

When he returned to his office, Selina sat where he’d left her, staring off into space.

“What was that about?”

She startled, her gaze snapping up to meet his. “What was what?”

“You were all gung ho to find the connection between your old crimes and this one, and when the sister arrives you barely ask a single question. What happened?” Everything he’d seen or heard about her said she was confident, driven, and not one to step aside in her investigations.

But vulnerability flashed in her gaze. The emotion was gone as quickly as it had come, but he knew he’d seen it. She shrugged and looked away. “You were doing a good job. No need to get in your way.”

“I don’t buy it.” He sat in the chair beside her rather than return to his side of the desk. “Something about this case gets to you. Something about Dorothy got to you.”

Her chin lifted, her gaze cooling. “Nothing gets to me. Not anymore.”

“I find that difficult to believe.” He reached out to brush a finger over her cheekbone. “And I won’t think less of you if you tell me when something is bothering you.”

Tears sheened her eyes. Then horror flashed over her face and she jerked away from him, turning to face the wall and clearing her throat. “I’m fine.”

Since he could understand not wanting to cry at work, he let that blatant lie slide, but every protective instinct he had roared to the surface. It went beyond what he’d feel for a colleague—the depth of the emotion stunned him. He slammed the lid down on it. No. He hadn’t felt anything like that for someone he was sleeping with since ... Shit, not since his wife. And look how well that had gone.

He thrust to his feet and moved around his desk. Getting involved with Selina would be a mistake. Caring for her would be a mistake. They were working together now, so the smartest thing to do would be to withdraw and keep things strictly professional. A twist in his chest told him it might be too late for that, but he tamped down on that, too.

Snatching up his phone, he punched in the speed-dial number to call Peyton. He set it to speaker so that Selina could hear. “Any news on my Normal hunch?”

“Not exactly.” The voice echoed through the phone and the door, and Peyton stuck his head in, closing his cell phone. “Apparently, my usual contact on the Normal side went out on maternity leave last week. Now I’m getting jerked around by her captain. He apparently has a real hate on the FBI. I’m tempted to let Cavalli take a bite out of his ass.”

“Nah. I’m the Normal liaison around here. Let me handle it. Thanks for trying.” In fact, Jack had a basketball match scheduled for the next morning with a couple of his Normal contacts. Old marine buddies who’d gone into law enforcement like he had. The thought of burning off a few hours with his friends was a welcome one. Sometimes the normalcy of Normals was a good way to decompress from Magickal troubles. It would be as good a time as any to see if they’d run across any drained bodies lately.

“You don’t need me, then.” The taciturn wolf tucked his cell into his pocket.

“Nope, we’ll be fine on our own.” Jack offered her a grin. “Won’t we, Selina?”

“Fine,” she echoed. “And it’s Grayson, thanks.”

When she looked at him, there was nothing to indicate that she knew him any better than some random FBI agent she’d been forced to work with. It didn’t piss him off that she’d shut him out so quickly—it intrigued him.

This wasn’t the sexy, interested woman who’d been at the wedding the night before, and it definitely wasn’t the soft, sleepy lover in his bed this morning.

He understood why they called her the ice queen now, but he’d seen the other side of her, so it was just another interesting layer for him. He had a feeling she wouldn’t care to know her frosty demeanor didn’t put him off at all.

It just challenged him, made him want to strip away the control and make her scream for him again. Which was a problem, since he knew he should forget about their one evening together. For her sake and his.

“Grayson, right. My mistake. I just got used to calling you Selina last night.”

If her eyes had been cold before, they had all the warmth of black ice now. Her gaze went between Peyton and Jack, as if she couldn’t believe he’d said something in front of the werewolf. “Excuse me?”

“At the wedding.” Jack arched an innocent eyebrow. “Everyone was pretty informal. My apologies.”

If she didn’t want anyone to know that the hotter, wilder side of her existed, then that was her business. He wasn’t going to let his colleagues know what they were missing out on.

“Right. I’ll leave you to it, then.” Peyton was gone without another word, the door whispering closed behind him.

“What the fuck?” A muscle twitched in Selina’s jaw, and for a moment Jack was pretty certain she was going to blast him with the kind of spell that would turn him into a braying ass. Like one of those medieval fairy tales meant to teach humans a lesson about their stupidity.

He held up a hand as if that might ward her off, but if she decided to hex his ass, there was nothing he could do about it. There was no counter spell he could throw out to save himself. Instead, he met her gaze squarely. “I wouldn’t say anything, Selina. Not to Peyton. Not to anyone. You don’t have to worry about me. This is my job and I’m a professional. Which means that my private life is private.” He shrugged. “It won’t make any difference in how professionally I treat you, but if you want me to call you Grayson here, I will.”

“I’d prefer it,” she said. Her gaze went from sulfuric to cautious. “I will make you bleed if you do anything to compromise this case for me.”

“This case?” He cocked his head. Her career, he could understand. Her reputation, yeah. But “this case”? That seemed a little more weight than he would have put on one assignment. She had to have worked hundreds of them—maybe thousands—if she’d been doing this since the seventies.

Her expression flattened, and he knew he’d get no answers from her. He tried not to let it frustrate him. Despite what they’d done together the night before, they still barely knew each other. She had no real reason to trust him. Yet. Even if he didn’t pursue her anymore, he was still working with her, and that required a certain amount of trust. He wanted that from her, probably more than he should. He wanted her to tell him why this case upset her enough to almost lose her cool.

“Just call me Grayson.” She flicked away an invisible piece of lint on her pants. “It’ll be easier for all involved.”

Easier for her, she meant. He didn’t argue with her, merely nodded.

Brushing a wisp of short hair out of her eyes, Selina lifted her chin in that stubborn way he was coming to associate with her. “How long before we get the Winston files from the All-Magickal Council?”

There was a subtle subject change. He almost smiled, but he had enough self-preservation not to make that fatal mistake.

“They’re sending a courier over with copies of her paperwork. She was about two hundred years old, and they haven’t digitized records that far back yet. They have a backlog of older Magickals.”

Her lips twitched. “So sorry we older folks inconvenience the system.”

“Yeah, that kind of behavior deserves a spanking.” He lowered his voice to an intimate rumble. Yeah, so he should probably back off, but yanking her chain was just too much fun. She reacted so nicely. And he wanted to see something on her face besides icy blankness or gut-wrenching vulnerability. “I’d love to have you draped over my lap. Naked.”

Startled heat flared to life in her eyes and her breath caught. She wasn’t as immune to him as she might wish. Nice to know it wasn’t just him who couldn’t cut off the chemistry between them. The best they could do was ignore it and get on with their work.

Her mouth opened to respond, but he cut her off. “Forget I said that. Let’s talk to a few of Mary Winston’s neighbors and see if they saw anything useful. The telepaths on the scene didn’t pick up on anything, but they didn’t catch everyone. Can’t hurt to check on the ones who weren’t home this morning, but who might have been around when the party started last night.” He stood and snagged his jacket off the back of his chair. “With any luck, no one else will cry on us today.”

That hunted, haunted look crossed Selina’s face again, so fleeting that he almost missed it. The curiosity about her secrets, the concern about her as a woman flared inside him. His chest cinched tight with emotions he didn’t want to name, didn’t even want to admit were possible for him anymore. Not after what his wife had done.

Damn it to hell. It was more than just sex. Already. And he doubted he’d be able to ignore it. Not with Selina.

Now what was he going to do?

5

A knock sounded on her door, and Selina considered not answering it. She was beat, and her energy levels were in the toilet. Yesterday was a marathon for the wedding, she’d gotten little sleep the night before, and after the revelations of today, she was ready to bury herself in a gallon of ice cream and then pass out in bed. If she could convince herself to get up from her sprawl across the living room sofa.

The last thing she wanted was to deal with another human being.

She groaned when the annoying person knocked again. Her familiar, Grim, came over and stuck his cold, wet nose against her bare foot, which made her jackknife upright and curse. The big German shepherd barked and licked her toes when she glared at him.

Shuddering in disgust, she yanked her foot away. “All right, all right, I’ll get up. Damn it.”

The grumbling would have little effect on her familiar. Rubbing a tired hand down her face, she didn’t even bother using her magic to try to figure out who it was. Sometimes it was easier to do things the Normal way. She stumbled to the door and looked out the peephole.

Jack.

She bit back a groan and tugged open the door, trying to freeze her expression into the frosty glare she used with co-workers. After she’d almost broken down in front of him, they needed to establish some boundaries. “Is there a new development with the case, Agent Laramie? The standard practice these days is a phone call, not a house call.”

“Nothing new with the case or I would have called your cell.” Unimpressed by her frigid bitch routine, his eyebrows arched and he looked her over. She refused to fidget or feel embarrassed that she was in faded pajamas. That she’d teared up in front of a complete stranger. A complete stranger she’d fucked. Maybe it was wrong that the tears upset her more, but that was just her.

His slow smile said he didn’t care what she wore. “We were supposed to have dinner, remember?”

Oh. Right.

She had agreed to dinner with him. And a longer sexual relationship. That he’d want to hold her to that arrangement was something she hadn’t considered. She should have. She pulled in a deep breath. “Today complicates things a little, doesn’t it?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I know it does. I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” She wanted the words to come out a demand, but she didn’t quite pull it off.

“Because I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about you underneath me last night. I can’t stop thinking about you almost losing it on me this afternoon.”

She closed her eyes and got about as close to blushing as she’d been in a century. “Can we not talk about that?”

“All right, let’s not talk about you crying.” He shouldered his way in and shut the door behind him. She engaged her security spells with a flick of her fingers, while Jack loomed over her, standing so close. “Let’s talk about why it upset you that Dorothy was crying. Let’s talk about why that shut you down. Let’s talk about why this case pushes your buttons so bad.”

Yeah, like she was going to tell him that story. Of their own volition, her fingers reached up to close around the talisman she wore. Too bad the one Bess had made for herself was for creativity instead of protection. It might have helped save her. Selina swallowed convulsively, wondering how her carefully constructed life had unraveled so fast. Then again, what life did she have left to worry about unraveling?

“Talk to me, Selina.” Jack narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not calling you Grayson outside of work. I draw the line at that door.”

“Fine.”

His hand lifted to stroke over her cheekbone, just as he’d done that afternoon. She shivered, liking his touch too much, wanting to lean into it. Almost as much as she’d wanted to earlier. But she couldn’t allow herself the weakness. She wouldn’t.

“Talk to me.” His voice was low, coaxing.

He wasn’t going to give up. But then, he’d be a shitty agent if he weren’t a bulldog when he latched on to a topic. All she knew was that she couldn’t tell him the truth about why this case pushed her shiny red buttons. Merek didn’t know that one of the victims was her cousin, but if he did know, he’d understand that Selina could get beyond the fact that her family was involved. He’d understand Selina could handle that she was going to die. But Jack? Luca? She didn’t know them well enough to trust them, and they didn’t know her and what she was capable of. They might pull her off the case so fast her head would spin, and she couldn’t allow that.

Her name was listed nowhere on Bess’s official documentation—her aunt had made certain of that—so the likelihood that anyone would discover the connection was nil. The bottom line was she couldn’t let Bess’s killer get away again. She’d never be able to live with herself if she did. It was that simple and that complicated.

But Jack’s gaze watched her steadily, waiting. She had to tell him something, so she gave him as much of the truth as she could. “This was my first murder case. I was pretty new to the police force.”

Jack’s heavy brows drew together in a dark frown. “They gave a serial killer to a rookie?”

“We didn’t know it was a serial killer at first, but it didn’t really matter. It was a vampire who did it, so they were going to kick it down to the lowest rung they could. That was me. A female rookie. I joined the NOLA PD not too long after they opened up to women.” She shrugged, though she was oddly touched that he seemed so concerned for her, even decades after the fact. She was so going soft. “You have to understand how New Orleans was back then. The local Vampire Conclave owned that town and every Magickal in it. Think Mafia ... with superhuman powers. Drugs, guns, prostitution, you name it. And I was hunting down a rogue bloodsucker.”

If anything, that made him look even more pissed off on her behalf. “So they dumped the shit on you and let you take the political fallout, too.”

“Pretty much.” She folded her arms over her chest, then dropped them when his gaze zeroed in on her cleavage. Tingles skipped over her skin, and she did her best to ignore them. “I got more help from a civilian than I did from my own department.”

“A civilian?” His eyebrows arched. “A Magickal reporter or something?”

“Hardly.” She snorted. “Theodore Holmes is the last living vampire hunter. Nice guy, if you overlook the burning, foaming-at-the-mouth hatred he has for all vamps.”

“Charming.”

“Not at all.” A wry smile curled her lips. “But he was there for me when I needed him the most, and that made overlooking his issues a lot easier.” She sighed and couldn’t meet his gaze when she went into half truth. “So this was my first murderer, and he got away. All those people died because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. It’s ... haunted me. Unsolved cases happen, and I’ve put several of them behind me, but not this one. This one almost made me quit the force.”

He reached out and cupped her shoulders, his fingers massaging lightly. “This was the guy who got away.”

“Yeah.” That was true enough, and she hated the way her insides knotted at not telling him everything. It couldn’t be helped, but she wished it could. “I want to finish what I started, you know what I mean? Today was rough because it all rushed back at me ... same M.O., same scene with relatives sobbing and asking why, and me with no answers for them. Again. I’ll be fine by tomorrow, but today sucked ass.”

He drew her up against him, brushing a kiss over her forehead. His hands slipped up and down her back. When was the last time she’d allowed herself to be held, comforted? She stiffened, reminding herself that she needed to set boundaries. But a slow, insidious desire wound through her. Her body warmed, even though she didn’t want it to. Damn chemistry. She couldn’t make herself pull away. Tilting her head back, she met his eyes.

His gaze had that focused, intent look that men got right before they kissed a woman, and Selina’s insides quivered with utter want. Her core went damp, slicking with juices just that quickly. She wanted his mouth on hers again. It was stupid, but there it was.

“I want you.” The words were a deep growl.

“We’re working together now.” It took every ounce of her willpower to derail the promise in his eyes. She had to say it now or she wouldn’t be able to. If he kissed her, she was screwed. Literally.

“I know. I know we should back away. I know it would be better for everyone. I know. Damn it.” And then he tightened his grip and slanted his mouth over hers.

The taste of him was just as good as she remembered. Somehow she’d thought the champagne had sweetened the experience beyond reality, but no. Heat curled through her, liquefying her bones. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time his lips had touched hers. A soft moan spilled out, a sound that was shocking in its neediness. She almost pulled back, but his arms wrapped tighter around her, hauling her flush against him.

The heat burned straight to pure fire.

Everything else fled under the onslaught of lust. She thrust her fingers into his soft hair and twisted tight. Opening her mouth, she licked her way into his, wanting more of that taste. It was addicting. Her nipples beaded to painful points, moisture slicking her pussy. Now that she knew how good it would be with him, her body was primed and ready with stunning speed. His hands roamed her back, sliding down to cup her hips and rock his hard cock into the cradle of her thighs.

A high keen of need broke from her as her entire body lit. She arched into his muscular form, hooking one leg around his hip to open herself to greater contact. He took advantage of the access, backing her into the closed door and grinding his erection into her sex.

She broke the kiss, throwing her head back to gasp for air. “Gods, you just got here. For dinner.”

“Food later. I’m starving for you.” His hips surged against hers, rubbing against her clit through their clothing. An involuntary spell rolled out of her, lightning forking from her fingers. He shuddered, groaned. “Jesus, Selina.”

“More,” she gasped.

“I have no magic for you. No seduction spells.” He bent to slide his tongue over her collarbone and up her throat to her earlobe.

“I’ve had seduction spells. This is better.” She sent hot sparks streaking down his skin. “I hope you don’t mind if I use them on you.”

“Not at all.” He bit her ear, and she cried out, more moisture gushing in her sex.

It took everything she had to gather her wits and put together a coherent sentence. “I have a spell ... that would have the effect of a seduction spell from you to me.”

He pulled back so he could meet her gaze, and he searched her face for a long moment. “I’ve never even heard of such a thing.”

“I’ve picked up things along the way.” She shrugged and struggled to control her breathing, slow her heart rate down. It didn’t work. He was still pressed to her body, his pelvis moving in infinitesimal thrusts that slid his erection over her throbbing clit. She was surprised she could think at all. “I dated a vampire once who liked pleasure spells, but the fanged races suck at casting so ... I found a better way for us. That used only my magic, but both our lust.”

“Show me.” A slow grin formed on his lips, a flash of straight white teeth.

Gathering the unraveled edges of her control, she forced herself to concentrate for a moment. The spell was psychokinetic—physical manifestations of thoughts or emotions—but it didn’t have a lot of power behind it because telepathy wasn’t one of her magical gifts. It had just enough kick to work as a pleasure spell, which was all she needed.

She wrapped the spell around them, cycling it between their bodies, linking just the lust that flowed from them. Physical manifestation of any other kind of emotion was something she didn’t want to deal with. The tangle of her own thoughts the last couple of days was something she’d rather avoid, especially at a moment like this, when she was minutes away from going off like a rocket.

Stroking his hands down her arms, golden light bathed her skin, shimmering for a moment before it sank into her. He grinned. “Cool.”

No, it was hot. Burning.

“Jack,” she whispered, her breath catching as the energy spinning between them intensified.

He tugged up the hem of her top, pulling it over her head. Her pajama pants slid away even faster as she divested him of his clothing in return. She unfastened his belt and fly, untucking the bottom of his dress shirt. He dropped his jacket and set his shoulder holster on the table she had by the front door while she worked his tie free and unbuttoned his shirt. He kicked off his shoes, and they wrenched the rest of his clothes off.

Slipping her palms up his chest was a tactile pleasure, all steely muscles, crisp hair, and warm skin. She circled one flat, brown nipple, and he hissed out a breath when she zapped it with a tiny fork of lightning. She moaned when he cupped her breasts, that golden warmth spilling over her. It was exquisite torment when he twisted her nipples with slow precision.

Gods, the heat of his passion sizzled her nerves. If she’d had any doubts about this thing being mutual, they were blown out of the water. The spell let her feel how much he wanted her, how much he craved touching her.

Abandoning his chest, she went straight for gold, swirling a finger around the tip of his cock. A bead of fluid slipped down the crest and she bent to catch it with her tongue. The salty flavor and musky scent of him turned her on even more. Everything about the man revved her up. Her sex spasmed as she licked a path down the length of his hard shaft.

“Jesus, if you do that, I won’t last a minute.” He pulled her upright and grabbed her hips, crowding her back with his big body and lifting her against the door.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, arching herself in offering. Yes, she wanted him inside her. The head of his cock rubbed over her damp folds, and they both groaned as he impaled her on his dick. The stretch was just as good as it had been the day before, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out. She couldn’t remember the last man who’d gotten her this wet, this fast. The feel of him against her was divine, the hard wood pressed to her back and him plastered to her front. It should have been uncomfortable, but she was beyond anything as trivial as discomfort. It was so damn good.

Everywhere their bodies touched, the pleasure spell kicked in, igniting what was already smoldering between them. Erotic energy, dark and sensual, shuddered through her. She wasn’t Normal, so she had no idea how much he could feel, but if it was even half of what she could—gods.

Sweat gathered at her temples and slipped down her skin as he began to thrust into her. She gripped his shoulders, holding on for the ride. Flexing the muscles in her thighs, she lifted and lowered herself on him, increasing the friction between them. She could have let gravity do a lot of the work, but she wanted more, faster. Now. The way he filled her was perfect.

She closed her eyes, savoring the sensations that bombarded her. The slap of skin as he shoved inside her, the rasp of his chest hair on her nipples, the low groans that escaped them, the way her body shivered as her need rose to a fever pitch. Each time he slid his cock into her, he hit her in just the right spot, and stars burst behind her eyelids. Magic and lust twisted into something so powerful it stole her breath. Gods, yes. This was exactly what she’d needed tonight. Way more satisfying than ice cream.

When he slammed deep and ground his pelvis against her clit, her pussy clenched around him, the first shimmer of orgasm rippling through her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding him closer.

“Selina,” he growled. “Look at me. I want to see you come for me.”

She met his gaze as her inner muscles flexed around his cock. He grinned and rubbed over her clit again, which sent her spinning into oblivion. A scream ripped from her throat as orgasm claimed her. He kept shoving his thick cock into her, and each time he entered her sent another wave of climax rolling through her, her pussy pulsing over and over again.

His gaze was locked with hers when he went over into orgasm, and she got to watch him come, too. The way his sharp blue eyes went hazy, his breath literally stopping before he groaned long and loud. He shuddered against her, his hot fluids pumping into her body.

The spurt of his come inside her made her sex fist around him one last time, and they both choked on a breath. She moaned, “Gods.”

“Yeah.” He lowered them to the floor and sprawled beside her, half on the hardwood floor and half on the area rug. His eyes closed with a groan, and he hauled her against his side, holding her close as their breathing and heart rates slowed to normal levels.

But the quiet gave her brain a chance to reengage, and her mind started racing in circles again. She rolled her eyes at herself. Way to establish those boundaries, Selina. Excellent. And yet, she couldn’t regret what they’d done. She just had to decide how to move forward from here.

She sighed. “Jack ... I’ve been loaned to the FBI for the case we’re both working on, remember? At least temporarily, we’re partners.”

“Wow, way to kill my buzz,” he grumbled. He opened one blue eye to look at her. “Does this mean I’m not invited to stay for dinner?”

“I’m serious.” She poked him in the ribs.

He heaved a sigh. “Okay, let’s have this conversation. I know we shouldn’t keep this up, but I don’t really want to stop either. I’m not sure I can. I want you. Hell, I shouldn’t have come over here, but I did.”

“This is making me feel ever so much better.”

He swatted her ass lightly. “It’s not supposed to make you feel better, it’s supposed to be honest.” His fingers stroked in circles on her backside, and a shiver went through her. “We don’t have partners in the MCU. That’s not how we operate. You haven’t been made my subordinate, nor have I been made yours. We both answer to Luca. I don’t think this is an issue. If it becomes one, we’ll deal with it at that point.”

She leaned back a little to look him in the eyes. “You’ve given this some thought, haven’t you?”

“Yep.” He grinned, wicked and enticing.

Her lips twisted into a reluctant smile. “You rehearsed that little speech on the way over here, didn’t you?”

“I thought about what I might say, yeah. I wouldn’t call it a rehearsal.” A flush reddened his neck and ears, and he rubbed his forehead.

It charmed her. He was big and tough and usually armed, but he still blushed. Damn. She didn’t want to like him, but she did. Spending the day with him had already turned him into something other than a sex toy, which meant she had no idea what category to put him into anymore. Lover? Co-worker? As she’d told him, those two things had never met since she’d joined the male bastion of law enforcement. Things had been different in centuries past, but this was now, and in this career, she’d been careful to compartmentalize.

Was she going to blow that now?

Then again, this case would be the end of her life, not to mention the end of her career. If she blew this, would it really matter to anyone but her?

No. It wouldn’t.

She didn’t want the distraction of him to be hounding her through this case, but she had no choice. He was the agent in charge, and she was just on loan. If anyone went, it was her. Plus, Merek’s vision had shown him that Jack had to be involved for a positive outcome. She’d been Merek’s partner for years before he joined the FBI—she’d seen just how accurate his clairvoyance was.

No matter what, she had to deal with Jack. There was no escape from that unless she wanted to walk away from this case, which she couldn’t do. This was her chance to make up for not catching this guy before, for not bringing Bess some justice, for being so green back then that she didn’t know what the hell she was doing.

Since she couldn’t escape dealing with Jack, her options were either accepting or trying to ignore the crazy chemistry they generated. She could pretend they hadn’t done the nasty multiple times already or she could include a few more of those mind-blowing orgasms in the last days or weeks of her life. That was the only thing she had to lose in this situation—the only thing she had any say in anyway. The rest was a foregone conclusion.

Her internal justification made her want to roll her eyes at herself again. “Okay, you can stay for dinner. I’m really not up for cooking or going out to a restaurant, but we can order some delivery.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” He didn’t smile, didn’t so much as let victory flare in his gaze. He just watched her steadily, patiently.

It annoyed her how much she liked that, but that was something else she couldn’t change.

Under different circumstances, she’d have made an entirely different choice, but she was long past wishing for other circumstances. She had to play the hand she’d been dealt.

He stretched against the floor. “Selina, you are amazing. This was fucking awesome.”

A satiated sigh heaved out of her, and a smug grin curled her lips. “Yeah, it was.”

This was the way to kick the bucket. If she was going to go out, it was going to be with the kind of smile that only really great sex could put on a woman’s face.

It was even better than he’d remembered, and that was saying something. Because he’d recalled that it was damn fine. A grin tugged at the corners of Jack’s lips.

Sighing, he rolled to his feet and froze halfway up, his gaze locking with the most enormous German shepherd he’d ever seen. The thing was eerie how it stared unblinkingly, with one eye a normal brown and the other a chilling blue. It snapped its jaw at him once, and he didn’t flinch, but he wanted to. “Who’s this?”

Selina lifted her head to look at them. “My familiar, Grim.”

“Does he bite?” Because the dog sure looked like he’d bite, and Jack had enough self-preservation not to move until he knew he wouldn’t be the beast’s next meal.

She hummed in her throat. “If he doesn’t like you.”

“How do I know if he doesn’t like me?” He shot her a glance.

Her dark eyes twinkled with evil glee, obviously enjoying watching him squirm. “If he bites you, it’s a pretty good indicator.”

“That’s helpful, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Jack’s muscles began to shake a bit from holding the awkward, half-crouched position. “Any pointers about how to make him not bite me?”

“Nope. He does what he wants.” She pushed herself up and folded her legs.

He slowly rose to his feet, waiting to see if he needed to dive for his gun. “You couldn’t have named him Fluffy or something?”

“I didn’t name him.” Her breasts swayed a little when she shrugged and Jack had to force himself not to stare at them. Or drool. Damn, she was beautiful.

He offered her a hand to help her to her feet. “Who did name him, then?”

“Theodore Holmes.” She slipped her fingers into his and let him draw her up. The familiar didn’t growl or snap when Jack touched Selina, so he tried to make himself relax a little under the dog’s unnerving stare.

“Your vampire hunter?”

“The one and only.” Affection rang in her voice, and a knife of unwarranted jealousy twisted through Jack’s belly just as it had the first time she’d mentioned him with such warmth.

She let go of his hand and wandered over to a built-in bookshelf lined with framed photographs. She picked one up and offered it to him. “This was taken just after we met. His specialty is taking out rogue bloodsuckers, and I wasn’t about to turn down help at that stage of the game.”

He accepted the picture and saw Selina, looking exactly as she did now, but with dated clothing and a feathered Farrah Fawcett hairdo. The man beside her glared defiantly into the camera, his mouth set in disapproval. Cheerful-looking guy. “Exactly how long had you been on the force?”

“Barely a year at that point.” She took the photo back and repositioned it on the shelf. “Women had to meet the same five-foot-eight height requirement as men to become a cop in New Orleans until 1976. Someone filed a lawsuit about it and got the requirement changed.”

“What did you do before that?” Putting aside the vampire hunter and the case until later, he focused on finding out more about the woman before him. If he couldn’t make himself walk away from this attraction to her, then he wanted to know what made her tick. He doubted she’d answer personal questions at work, so he took the opportunity and ran with it.

“A lot of things. I’ve been around awhile.” A small grin fluttered at the corners of her mouth. “It’s been nice having more jobs open up in the last century or so. Housewife didn’t suit me.”

“What did suit you then?”

“I was a governess and a teacher for a long, long time in a lot of cities, mostly because that was one of the few things an unmarried woman could do.” She shrugged. “Except for, you know, prostitution.”

“Which you’d never do.”

She arched her eyebrows and managed to stare down her nose at him even though he topped her by at least eight inches. “How do you know what I’d do?”

Reaching out to brush his fingertip down her cheek and over her lips, he grinned. “While I don’t doubt that men would line up to pay you for sex, you’re not the type who’d sell yourself.”

“You’re right.” She huffed out a breath. “I haven’t.”

“See?”

“Shut up.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “I was a man’s mistress for a while, which is almost the same thing, but that was when I was going through my starving artist phase. Only I didn’t like starving, so I let my lover be my patron, which basically made me his mistress.”

“Starving artist? You?” No way. Her tough-as-nails exterior did not scream an artistic personality.

She waved to a large abstract painting over the fireplace. “Behold, my masterpiece.”

“It’s ... nice.” He tilted his head this way and that. “Uh. What is it?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Her chuckle was soft and rueful. “I wasn’t very good at it, but I guess every Magickal gives art a go at one point or another. We have time to test-drive everything at least once.”

“I can’t imagine being anything other than what I am. It’s what I love to do.” He grinned. “I guess it’s good I only get one shot at this.”

“And that you got it right the first time.” She winked at him. “Are you hungry?”

He knew his grin turned into pure wickedness, and she rolled her eyes when he looked over her naked body. She was slim and totally unselfconscious in her nudity. The woman was comfortable in her own skin, and that confidence was a sexy thing. Everything about her was sexy, intriguing. So she was more than just a sex partner. So what? He’d had friends with benefits before, and that was all this needed to be. He’d maybe freaked out about it too much earlier. Everything would be fine. He was in no more danger of falling for her than he was with any other woman he’d been with since his wife died. They’d keep it light, they’d have fun, they’d have some great sex, they’d do good work together, and that would be the end of it. See? Fine.

“Food sounds good, yes. Who delivers to this neighborhood?” He waved a hand to indicate the world outside her house. “Or I can make French toast if you have bread, eggs, milk, and some spices.”

“Mmm. French toast for breakfast, I think. Assuming we don’t get called in for another murder.”

He got to stay for breakfast, huh? Well, all right then. He didn’t mind that at all. Bringing a gorgeous woman breakfast in bed was definitely a good way to start a day. Assuming they didn’t get called in for another murder. They still had a lot of paperwork to go through before he had all the information he needed to even begin to put enough pieces together to solve this case, and the New Orleans files wouldn’t arrive until the department down there managed to unearth them. Digging up a decades-old cold case took some time, especially after the damage Hurricane Katrina had done to that city. He tucked away any frustration he might feel over the delay. There was nothing he could do to speed things up, so he focused on what was in front of him. Selina.

She meandered into the kitchen and opened a drawer filled with take-out menus. “There’s an Italian place that’s good, a Japanese restaurant with amazing tempura shrimp, a Thai place I love, and a Chinese hole-in-the-wall with the best chow mein I’ve ever had.” She grinned at him. “What? I order in a lot.”

“Apparently.” He scooped out a handful of at least ten menus, and that didn’t even make a dent in the pile she had accumulated.

“Don’t judge.”

“I’m not.” He held up his hands to ward her off, but considering he still held the menus, he doubted he did much to deflect her. “I like take-out food as much as the next bachelor. I got used to having food served to me in the marine corps. I just went to the mess hall and there was something to eat. No need to cook.”

She snagged the folded papers from him. “I’d say we need one of those in the PD, but I understand the food isn’t the best.”

“We do quantity over quality.” He made a face. “Don’t even ask about MREs.”

She chuckled, sorting through the menus until she had five lined up on the counter. The rest she stuffed back in the bottomless drawer. “Are they worse than the K-rations we had in World War II?”

“You were in World War II?” He blinked. The age thing with Magickals always tripped him up. He understood intellectually they had a five-hundred-year life span, while humans only had about a fifth of that. But it still threw him off when a woman who looked his age claimed to have been involved in a war that ended decades before he was born, let alone old enough to serve in the military.

But she was nodding. “I was a nurse in the war. I was stationed in Hawaii during Pearl Harbor.”

“No way.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “I’m old, remember?”

“Not too old to have a good time.” He winked at her and picked up the take-out list from the Chinese food place she’d mentioned. “I like chow mein. And every time I eat it, I end up wanting more immediately. Kind of like sex.”

Her eyes went round. “You want more sex now?”

A laugh rumbled out of him. He couldn’t help it. The ice queen was nowhere to be found when she wasn’t at work. He liked that only he got to see this side of her. “I’ll let you regain your strength a bit. Let’s have dinner. Then I’ll have you for dessert.”

A flush rose to her cheeks and her eyes darkened with passion. He watched her nipples tighten, and his cock responded to her arousal. “Maybe I’ll have you for an appetizer, too.”

She didn’t say anything in return, just licked her lips, and he stared at her mouth. Damn, she got to him in the worst way, and he wanted her under him. He hadn’t gotten this hard, this often, since he’d been a randy teenager. But he’d been insatiable the night before. They’d both needed the distraction, and tonight? He had no idea how he’d have the energy for a repeat performance, but he knew without a doubt that he wanted her again.

As if she’d read his mind, she said, “Sex is a big yes, but a sex-a-thon like last night is not going to happen. I need to sleep and be sharp tomorrow, not running on adrenaline and caffeine like today.”

“Agreed.” He laughed. “I might be younger than you, but I’m not a kid anymore. Sleep is my friend. I don’t get as much as I should, so I take it when I can.”

“Gods, yeah. I think I’ve missed more sleep since I became a cop than I did in the entire century before that.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t trade it, though.”

“You really love it, don’t you?” Having done everything else, he would have guessed that the stress-inducing, sleepless, adrenaline-fest of law enforcement wouldn’t be that high on her list. Then again, it wasn’t as if she had to do this. She was old enough and had other skills to make a living off of. Why else would she be doing it if she didn’t love it?

It was a little odd to think he had something that fundamental in common with a woman who outstripped him in age and experience by about fifty miles. Odd, yeah. But he liked it anyway.

“Of course. I could be retired if I wanted to. I might not be rich or powerful like Millie Standish, but even modest savings for a couple of centuries adds up.” She lifted her hands, her thoughts clearly following the same lines that his had. Again.

He narrowed his gaze at her. “Are you a telepath?”

“Nope. Should I buy you a tinfoil hat?” Her grin was sharp and wicked.

“Ha, no. I was just making sure. You Magickals can be weird like that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No problem.” He reached for the cordless phone on her counter and flipped over the Chinese menu. “What do you want?”

She ran her nail across his collarbone and down his chest to flick his nipple. Her voice was almost a purr. “You mean, what do I want for food?”

“Yes.” Even he didn’t know if he was answering her question or approving the way she touched him. He loved that she wasn’t shy about letting him know what she wanted. Guessing games in the bedroom weren’t his idea of a good time.

“Chicken chow mein, shrimp fried rice, and an order of egg rolls.” Every word was punctuated by her swirling her finger through his chest hair and around his nipples. Her gaze danced with mischief when she peeked up at him through her thick lashes.

He shuddered, punched in the number for the restaurant, and placed their order. Her hand drifted lower, circling his navel when he hung up. “Let’s get dinner delivered before my good intentions go out the window and I do you on the counter.”

“You’re assuming I’d be opposed to that.”

“Says Detective I-Need-My-Sleep.”

“Yeah, but it’s not bedtime yet.” She managed to pull off a completely innocent expression.

Innocent, his ass. He snorted. “Maybe I’ll enjoy making you wait.”

Her eyes slitted in challenge. “I could change your mind about that.”

He had no doubt. Time for a distraction or he’d be banging her when the food showed up.

Being naked wasn’t going to help his cause at all. Her slim, bare curves were more temptation than he cared to resist. And his cock sticking out like a flagpole wasn’t going to convince her he wasn’t obsessed with getting inside her. Again.

Returning to the living room, he pulled on his pants and shirt, but left it untucked. He scooped up her pajamas and brought them to her.

Amusement twinkled in her gaze and a wry grin curved her lips. “You don’t like me naked, Agent Laramie?”

“I love having you naked, and I’ll show my full appreciation after dinner. For the moment, I need you dressed.”

She laughed outright at that, but gamely slid her clothes back on. It was a damn shame to have all of her creamy skin covered up, but he wasn’t interested in sharing the view with the delivery guy. Her stomach rumbled loudly, and Jack chuckled. She slapped a hand over it and shrugged. “Hey, I was just going to have a carton of ice cream before you showed up.”

“Looks like I got here just in time to whet your appetite for something more substantial.” He gave her an easy smile and she just shook her head at him.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And you like it.” He winked at her and went over to sprawl on her couch, taking the time to really look around for the first time. He was usually pretty observant—it was a job qualification—but he’d been too distracted until now to observe anything other than Selina.

The house was old, the architecture maybe turn of the century. The inside seemed more spacious than it appeared from the tree-lined street outside. She lived in the eclectic Capitol Hill area of Seattle, not too far from Volunteer Park.

He liked her house. It felt good, which sounded lame even in his head, but that was the best way he could explain it. It wasn’t too girlie or fussy, it wasn’t overloaded with crap, like some of the women’s homes he’d been in. Yet, it felt warm. Unlike how she presented herself at work. She had a definite separation of work and home life. He’d bet none of her co-workers had ever been invited over.

She petted her familiar while Jack looked around, and followed him into the living room slowly, her eyes going between the couch and an oversized chair. Deciding on the chair, she moved past him.

“Yeah, no.” He snagged her arm, and tugged her down on the couch with him.

Grim barked, rising from where he’d just lain down in front of the fireplace. His hackles stood on end, a low growl issuing from his throat.

“I’m not hurting her. She’s okay.” Jack looked the dog in the eyes. The animal was a familiar, something he didn’t know a lot about. They had some magical powers, like their owners, and the ones he’d met seemed to have more awareness than regular pets, but ... he still felt a bit stupid chatting with a dog.

Grim tilted his head, ears cocked forward. His blue/brown gaze went from Selina to Jack and back again. His hackles smoothed and he snorted. Lying back down, he rested his chin on his paws.

“That dog has attitude.”

Grim’s blue eye opened and focused on Jack, a growl rumbling out. Message received. Jack was being watched, and the jury wasn’t out yet on whether or not he was getting a chunk taken out of him.

Scooting around on his lap, Selina tried to get off of him. Her squirming made him grit his teeth and grab her hips to still her. Just like that, his cock was as hard as blue steel. The feel of her, the feminine scent. He groaned, pulling her around so she straddled his hips.

Her eyes widened when she felt his erection, but instead of pulling away, she arched forward to slide her sex over his cock. Even through their clothing, the effect was electric, heat shooting through his body. There was magic in her touch when she grabbed his shoulders for leverage. He groaned, rocking his pelvis upward. Shoving his fingers into her short hair, he pulled her down for a kiss.

She tasted as sweet as she smelled, like one of those fancy coffees with caramel in it. He licked into her mouth, twining his tongue with hers. Releasing his grip on her hair, he slipped his fingers down her back. Her slender body flexed and bowed as she thrust her sex against his, the stimulation so erotic, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back. And he still had his clothes on. It was insane, but there was no way he’d stop this runaway train.

Reaching between them, he feathered his thumb over her clit through her pajama bottoms. She whimpered into his mouth, a pleasure spell wrapping around them. He didn’t know if she could feel his passion for her, but he sure as hell could feel hers. The heat they generated together was likely to set the house on fire, and it built to a towering inferno. He continued to tease her sex with one hand, and moved the other around to fondle her breast. When he pinched and twisted her tight little nipple, he knew she was close to orgasm. The spell intensified its grip on him, her body went tight, her breathing hitched, and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

He wanted her to come for him. Jesus, the explosive spell spinning between them might just drag him under with her. His cock throbbed, and he thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth, stroked her clit harder and faster.

Every muscle in her body locked, and her hips jerked. He could feel climax thrumming through her, and the blast of magic that hit him, centered right where she ground her sex down into his, brought him right to the edge of orgasm. Another few seconds and he might come in his pants.

They both groaned when the doorbell rang. He let his head drop back against the couch, lungs heaving for air. So close, and his body ached with the missed opportunity. “Fuck.”

She whimpered, collapsing against his chest.

Another knock sounded, louder and longer this time, and both Grim and Jack growled.

“I’ll get it.” He laid her limp form on the couch next to him, watching her sigh with contentment.

He kissed her bent knee before he rose to his feet and walked unsteadily toward the door. He tugged his shirt forward to hide his erection, hoping he wasn’t about to shock some teen. Opening the door, he fished out his wallet and paid the middle-aged delivery driver, then brought the bags back to Selina. The scent of Chinese food had both their stomachs gurgling. Loudly.

“I guess we should eat.” He laughed as she slapped a hand over her belly.

“Yeah, or else my stomach is going to start digesting itself.”

“There’s a nice mental image.” Setting the bags on the coffee table, he sat down and dug through the bags until he found napkins and wooden chopsticks. He handed her a set while she sat up and snagged the white carton with the chow mein in it.

A deep moan filtered out of her when she took the first bite. “Oh, gods, I’ve had orgasms that weren’t this good.”

“Hey!” He laughed.

“Not with you, sheesh.” She waved her chopsticks between them. “This is good sex, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I had noticed, actually.” He stabbed apiece of chicken with his chopsticks and forked it into his mouth. Not their intended use, but whatever. The spicy flavor hit his taste buds, and he groaned. The food was just as delicious as Selina had promised.

“Awesome, isn’t it?” She gave him a smug look before she took another bite of chow mein.

He nodded and stole some of her noodles, offering her his carton in exchange. They fell into a companionable silence as they ate, and it felt ... nice.

“So.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “You’ve mentioned the marines. How long did you serve?”

She was curious about him. The thought warmed him in a way that it probably shouldn’t. He shut that down. She was a cop and she was stuck working with him for a while. Of course, she was curious. Even if they weren’t sleeping together, she’d want to know what kind of person she was dealing with.

“I was in ROTC in college, then I served as an officer for fifteen years. I did a couple of stints in Iraq and Afghanistan. When Cavalli recruited me, I took an early retirement from the corps.”

Three sentences to describe the bulk of his life. There was so much history piled into those years—events that had shaped the man he’d become.

“What made you want to become a marine?”

“My dad was a marine.” He rooted around in the plastic bags until he came up with their order of eggrolls. He offered her first grab. “It just seemed to fit. I always knew I was going to be a lifer in the corps. It was the FBI that was a surprise, but it fits me, too.”

“Why did you make the switch? You didn’t wake up one day and say, ‘I think I’ll join the FBI,’ right?” Her brows drew together, a thoughtful expression on her face when she bit into the flaky shell of the eggroll.

“No, I never considered it until Cavalli approached me.” He shrugged. “It was something different, interesting. It let me wash the taste of war out of my mouth.”

“How did Cavalli even find you? I mean, I know Normals who know about magic are registered with the All-Magickal Council, but—” She waved her hand to indicate she couldn’t explain it.

He set the eggroll container down without taking one. “My mom and stepdad moved to Seattle for his job about ten years ago. I came to see them when I was on leave a few years back and met Cavalli through a mutual acquaintance.”

“That tells me not much.” She nudged him with her elbow. “What kind of mutual acquaintance exists between a vampire FBI agent and a Normal marine? Is your stepdad a vampire?”

He snorted. “Exactly the opposite, actually.”

“Werewolf?” There was only one species diametrically opposed to vampires. The two fanged races had a serious hate on each other. Open warfare had existed between them for centuries until the All-Magickal Council had put the kibosh on it in the late 1800s. It was too dangerous for every Magickal for the war to continue. The hatred still remained and occasionally caused skirmishes, but they’d managed not to degenerate to that kill-on-sight kind of war again. So far. Jack was as aware as anyone else in the Magickal community how tenuous the peace was at times. He’d had to clean up the mess of their fighting before. He wanted no part in more war.

He’d had enough of that in the military to last a lifetime. War was an ugly, grinding thing.

Selina touched his hand, dragging him back to the present. He realized she was staring at him, waiting for him to answer her question. “Yeah, my stepdad is a werewolf.”

“I guess that brings us back to—how did a man in a werewolf family meet a vampire agent?” She gave him a pointed look. “That’s not usually on the vacation to-do list.”

He grinned at her. “You ask a lot of questions.”

She bit into her food, unfazed by his observation. “Comes with the territory.”

“So you ask everyone this many questions about their history? Or do you just want to know more about me, specifically?” Why he wanted to know, he couldn’t say. It shouldn’t matter.

“A little of both, I guess. I’ve never met a Normal in Magickal law enforcement. Not an agent, anyway. You’re unique, and that makes me want to know why. Also, we’ve had wild and crazy awesome sex, so I’m curious about you. If it were a one-nighter, that would be one thing, but for the moment we seem to have agreed to an affair. I like to know what I’m in for.” She licked the crumbs off of her fingers, and he almost groaned watching that pink tongue swirl around her fingertips. His dick took that moment to remind him that only she had gotten off during their little couch caper earlier.

He forced himself to look away from her mouth. “You know there are Magickal branches of all public services, right? Hospitals, police, military, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I was around when that became a common practice.”

“Right, well. I did a couple of missions with some Magickal units in the marines. Force Recon. I wasn’t special forces, but I’d spent enough time in country that I knew my way around. Every now and then they’d tap me for something because I was a Normal who could play both sides, as it were. One of the guys I worked with—a vampire—introduced me to Luca.”

“Ah. Okay.” She drummed her fingers on her leg. “What about your dad?”

He blinked at the abrupt topic change, and realized this was how she kept her suspects off guard when questioning them. He wasn’t sure how to take that—being grilled like he’d committed a crime instead of giving her multiple orgasms. “What about him?”

“Well, your mom remarried to a werewolf, right?” She propped her bare feet on the coffee table, and he grinned when he saw the fire engine–red toenail polish. Such a great metaphor for her—she kept the fire hidden where no one else could see.

“Yeah.” He decided if he was going to be treated like a suspect, then he was going to be an uncooperative one. Let her ask what she wanted, but he wasn’t volunteering. It would be interesting to see what she wanted to know about him. How much was personal and how much was professional. So far, it had been pretty even, wanting to know about his career but also wanting to know why he’d made the decisions he’d made. Could go either way.

She shot him a look, telling him she knew he was being difficult. “Which means your dad wasn’t in her life anymore ... right?”

“He died when I was a kid. Cancer.” He winced when he said it. Decades later, and that word still stung, that life-stealing diagnosis. “It was totally out of the blue. He was a marine, so he went in for a routine exam, and they found something weird, so they checked it out and ... boom. Cancer. One day he was fine, and within a couple of months, he was gone.”

Sympathy shone on her face. “It had to be rough to lose him so young. I’m sorry.”

“It was rough for everyone.” An understatement. He’d spent a long time devastated and more than a little pissed off at the world. It was only a matter of time before everyone left him behind—his wife had more than proved that—but that first lesson in reality had been harsh. “My mom managed to hold things together for me, but I know she took it pretty hard. It took Darren a long time to get her to go out on a date with him. Good thing he’s stubborn, or Mom probably would have stayed single for the rest of her life.”

“And now she’s a werewolf.”

It wasn’t a question, but maybe it didn’t need to be. As far as he knew, if a fanged Magickal—the only two races who could turn Normals to Magickals—married a human, they turned them. He’d never heard of a husband or wife turning down the opportunity. No, only one stepson. He almost smiled, remembering the shock in his stepfather’s family when they learned he’d decided to stay human. They loved him, but they didn’t get it. No one did.

“Yep, for about twenty years now.” And his mother seemed happy with that. He was happy for her. She deserved it after losing his father. “They waited until I was eighteen before my stepfather Changed her. Wolf magic can be unstable, and they didn’t want to leave me an underaged orphan.”

“Sounds like a good way to handle the situation.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “Do you like your stepfather?”

He shrugged. “I love him. He makes my mom happy.”

“He changed your life forever by making you both aware of magic,” she pointed out. “You don’t ever wish you didn’t know about this flaming hot mess that is the Magickal world?”

A direct hit. He chuckled. “Our lives will never be the same again, but I think we’re both okay with how that turned out for us. Though I have to admit it’s been a big relief for me since Chloe’s project has had such a breakthrough. When her treatment hits the market, I won’t have to worry about either of them dying at the full moon.”

The less he had to worry about the people he loved dying on him, the better. He’d had enough of that, and working in the field he did made it even more likely that those he was close to might meet a tragic end. He accepted it for himself and those who chose this life, but his parents were just regular people. He’d be just as happy not having to stress during the moon cycles.

Her eyebrows drew together. “Are you considering letting your stepdad Change you, now that lycanthropy is becoming stabilized?”

“No.”

Now her dark brows rose. “You haven’t even considered it?”

He folded his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t the danger that made me turn it down in the first place, so no, I haven’t considered it since the first time I said no.”

“What was it that made you turn it down, then? Most Normals I’ve met over the centuries either fear or crave the powers of Magickals once they know they exist.” She tilted her head, scrutinizing him. “You don’t seem to fall into either category.”

A smile that he knew was just a little bit mocking crossed his face. “And that bothers you, that you can’t fit me into some neat category?”

“It makes me curious.” She waved a dismissive hand. “After this many years, I’ve found that the only thing you can expect from people—Magickal or Normal—is that they’ll surprise the shit out of you. So you’d better expect the unexpected or you’ll get caught with your pants down.”

He flashed a grin. “I like you with your pants down.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re a pain in the ass. Are you going to answer my question or not?”

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, exaggerating a baffled expression. “I’m still stuck on the mental image of you with no pants. What was the question?”

“Why did you decide you didn’t want to be a Magickal?”

“Because I’m not a Magickal.”

“Is it really that simple?” The incisive look she gave him didn’t waver for a moment, and he was damn glad he wasn’t a criminal. He’d hate to face her in an interrogation, though he’d be glad to use her when they found a suspect for this murder.

“Not everyone wants to live forever, Selina.”

“Five hundred years isn’t forever.” A wry expression molded her features. “Especially when you’re in that final century.”

“It might as well be forever to me. I’m looking at a hundred years, max.” He sighed, as unsure how to explain it as he’d ever been. “I was born Normal, that’s what I am. Everyone always asks ‘why not?’ But my question is ‘why?’ Why do I have to want to be something other than what I am?” He spread his arms and gestured down at himself. “There’s nothing wrong with what I am. If I’m okay with it, why can’t everyone else be? Magickals may see mortals as inferior, but ... this is who I am, and I’m good with that. I don’t want to be anything else.”

“Most wouldn’t resist the offer of power, no matter what its form.” She tapped a nail against her knee, still watching his face for any breaks.

“I don’t crave power, never have.” Not even as a teenager, when he’d first been given the offer. At first, staying human had been a small tie to his father, something to connect him to the life he’d had before he’d known about magic. But now? His stepfather’s offer still stood, he knew that. Now he was just... fine the way he was.

“Huh,” she said.

“What?” He used his chopsticks to spear a snow pea pod out of one of the cartons on the table. She was still staring at him when he sat back. His eyebrows arched. “What, Selina?”

She licked her lower lip, and his gaze zeroed in on that unconsciously sensual movement. That tongue had slid over his body the night before, and he wanted that again. He wanted more from her. A lot more. For whatever reason, she’d decided to give him just that, even though they were working together day and night. His blood heated at the thought of the nights they’d have, and he reached out to run the tip of his finger from the top of her foot to her bent knee.

A shiver went through her, and her gaze darkened in rising awareness. “I’ve never met a Normal like you. At least not one so young.”

“What am I like?” He didn’t really care. His cock had gone hard in his pants, and he leaned closer to her to kiss her shoulder. Her perfume filled his nose, something sweet and edged in exotic spice. Perfect for her, and a heady aphrodisiac when mixed with the scent of her musky desire.

“Confident. No bullshit.” Her voice was just a little breathless, and he liked that. She swallowed audibly. “Comfortable in your own skin.”

He’d thought the same thing about her, but he wouldn’t argue with the assessment. Dodging live fire in a battle, and having life drop-kick him more than once meant he’d learned what he was made of a long time ago. He knew himself, and his chosen careers hadn’t left a lot of room for illusions, innocence, or any kind of bullshit. “And most Normals aren’t like that?”

“No.” Her breath caught as he eased his hand under the edge of her pants and between her legs to tease the lips of her sex. She was wet, ready. “Especially not Normal men. Fragile little male egos that annoy the shit out of me. Toddlers have more maturity.”

He snorted and leaned back, withdrawing his hand. “Wow. Okay. Tell me how you really feel.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Her gaze roamed over his body. “That’s how I really feel.”

“Oh, yeah?” He chuckled, liking the way she looked at him, the way she talked about him, probably more than he should.

“I can take care of that for you.” That little pink tongue darted out to lick her lips again, and his cock jerked in response.

“Feel free.”

A wicked grin formed on her face, and she snapped her fingers. Goose bumps rose on his flesh—one of the few indicators humans had when magic was in use around them. A rush of warm air swirled around his legs, and when he looked down, his clothes were neatly folded and sitting beside his bare feet. “Huh. There’s a trick I haven’t seen before.”

“You like?” She purred, running one nail up his naked thigh. Her pajamas had also magically disappeared.

“Uh-huh. I like.” He reached over with his chopsticks and pinched her nipple.

“Hey!” She laughed and jerked back, smacking his hand away, but she shivered and both her nipples beaded tight. “Those things are greasy with Chinese food.”

“You know, you’re right. I think I got something on you. Here, let me take care of that.” He dropped the chopsticks on the table, bent forward, and sucked the tip of her breast into his mouth.

She moaned, her fingers threading through his hair. He liked her hands on him, but he wanted her silky skin rubbing against his. He wanted inside her. Tugging on her legs, he shifted their position until she stretched out beneath him on the couch.

Ah, yeah. That was what he’d craved. Every inch of her slender body pressed to his. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, circled it, bit it lightly, and loved her sounds of pleasure kissing his ears.

He touched her everywhere he could reach, the outsides of her thighs, up her ribs, the undersides of her arms. Sliding his hands until he held her wrists, he pulled them over her head to pin them to the couch cushion.

Humming in her throat, she tugged at her wrists, but he held them there and sucked her earlobe into his mouth to distract her from the fact that he had her pinned. She could escape using magic, but she’d have to focus enough to put together a defensive spell. He’d found in his work that having a diversion ready to go at all times could save him from getting fried by even the most powerful Magickals.

Now he used that to his advantage. He liked the way Selina’s stretched position arched her into him, pressed her breasts firmly against his chest. Sucking on her earlobe, he scraped it with the edges of his teeth. Her moan, and the shock of a hot pleasure spell streaking down his skin, told him the last thing on her mind was escaping his hold.

Her legs wrapped tight around his waist, lifting her hips to rub her soaking pussy against the head of his cock. His teeth sank into her lobe and a groan ripped out of him. She squealed and tilted her head to shove her ear into his mouth. Jesus, she was so responsive, especially with those cute little elf ears. Something else he’d be taking shameless advantage of for as long as he had her in his bed. Or on her couch. The floor. Wherever, whenever he could get inside her.

“Gods, Laramie.” She tugged at his grip on her hands in sharp, insistent jerks. “Will you fuck me already?”

Hell, yes, he would. He shackled her wrists together in one hand, and used the other to reach between them to grasp his cock. He rubbed the head over her slippery folds and her hard clit while she arched herself higher and tried to force him into her pussy. He was tempted to make her wait, to tease her until she went crazy for him, but he didn’t have the restraint left.

He wanted her too much to wait.

Guiding himself to her opening, he eased in the first inch of his cock. He had to grit his teeth against the staggering sensation of her tight, slick heat closing around his dick. The sound of need that exploded from her did nothing to help his control. She snapped her hips up to take more.

“Jack, Jack, Jack,” she chanted his name, and he couldn’t take the temptation.

He thrust deep, hilting his cock in one swift movement. She screamed, tried to escape his hold on her again, and ground her pelvis upward. A groan dragged out of his throat at the explosion of sensations. Her body moving against him fed a need he’d never known he had, something that went deeper than he wanted to even consider. Dark, sizzling magic poured from her, sent fire arcing over his skin. Not a real burn, but it sank within him and fanned the flames inside. It was consuming, demanding he give everything to the experience.

He bucked his hips, driving deeper into her, then withdrew and did it again. Jesus, it was perfect. He buried his face in her throat, sucking and biting the tendon that connected neck to shoulder. The intensity of the spell she cast raised every hair on his body and sent a shudder running through him. That wrenching dual perception of her desires and his melded in his consciousness. How she loved the way he pierced her, filled her, tangled with how it felt to thrust into her wet pussy.

They both groaned in pleasure when he bit her throat, sighed when her legs tightened around his waist, rocking her body into his. Through it all, his rhythm didn’t falter. He plunged his cock into her, over and over, needing that connection.

“You feel so fucking good, Selina. Tight. Wet.”

She twisted in his arms, jerking at his restraining grip, but he held tighter and moved to kiss her mouth. A diversion was definitely in order. Her lips parted under the pressure of his, her tongue thrusting out to tangle with his. The kiss went wild in moments, each of them biting, sucking, tasting, and taking. He slid his free hand between them again, rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. She moaned into his mouth, and he felt her sex fist around his cock. A few more strokes, another flick of fingers over her clitoris, and she went over into orgasm, her explosive ecstasy bursting within his consciousness.

It was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, knowing—not just guessing—exactly how much pleasure he gave her, knowing how much she enjoyed his touch, how he turned her on, turned her inside out and made her scream. Nothing had ever even come close to this. Magic or chemistry, he didn’t know. He just knew it was phenomenal.

Every plunge of his cock into her wet pussy caused another wave of climax to crash through her, sent another shock of a spell roaring over him, until he could do nothing more than give in to the orgasm that beckoned. The magic, the sheer physicality of being on her and in her, her soft skin on his, her slender wrists trapped in his hand. It was too much to resist, and his hips hammered against her, the slap of their skin echoing in the room as come burst from his cock to fill her.

He groaned, shuddering. Burying his face in her throat, he sighed and relaxed against her. He should get up. Magickal or not, he was bigger than she was and he had to be crushing her. In a moment, he would move. Right now, he let himself enjoy the sensation of her pliant and soft body under him, of their hearts pounding, their breathing ragged gasps.

It was the best sex of his life, reaching down and taking hold of something deep inside him. Burning off any frustrations that cropped up during this case was going to be a lot of fun.

For the little time they had together, he wanted as much as he could get. It was all he could promise either of them, all he’d ever been able to promise since his wife made sure before she died that Jack knew all the problems in her life began and ended with him.

* * *

It occurred to Selina when she woke up later that night and went to the bathroom to pee that she should probably tell Theodore their quarry had resurfaced. Not the best time or place to think of the old man, but it didn’t change the fact that she should let him know. The Normal had retired years ago, after age had slowed him too much to do the job with any hope of success. Though she suspected his wife’s leukemia had done it more than anything else. He’d quit hunting to stay with her to the bitter end.

Skirting past the bed so she wouldn’t wake up Jack, Selina picked up her cell, walked out into the living room, and sat on the couch. Grim lumbered up from where he’d been sleeping in front of the fireplace and came over to rest his chin on her thigh. He made a questioning noise in the back of his throat.

She stroked a hand down his neck. “Nothing’s wrong. Just calling Theodore.”

He yipped, and Selina shushed him.

“I’ll tell him to say hello to your sister. Just don’t wake up Jack.”

Grim sighed but remained silent. She continued to pet him and used her free hand to scroll through her numbers until she reached the one for Theodore Holmes. She glanced at the clock. It was late, but the man lived alone now. He’d pick up.

“Hello?” The young voice of a teenager came through the line.

“Um ... I’m looking for Theodore Holmes. Is this still his number?” It was programmed into her phone, so she knew she hadn’t misdialed. Had he changed his number without telling her? Her heart squeezed—had he died and she hadn’t heard about it?

“Sure, one second.” There was a rustling sound for a moment, and then she heard in the background. “Grandpa, the phone is for you.” A pause. “I don’t know, I didn’t ask. Some lady. Did you pick up any chicks at the grocery store today and give them your number?” She laughed at whatever the response was to that.

The line picked up. “I’ve got it, Riley. Hang up now. Hello, who the hell is calling me at midnight?”

Selina cleared her throat. “Good to hear from you, too. There was a time when midnight wasn’t so late.”

“Grayson.” The tone warmed considerably. “There was a time when I wasn’t an ornery old cuss.”

She grinned at that. “No, just an ornery cuss. Not an old one.”

A grunt was the only reply he had for her.

“So, your granddaughter is visiting? Sorry I woke her.” Small talk with Theodore was like pulling teeth. With no anesthesia. He’d talk your ear off for hours about how best to hunt, trap, and kill a vampire, but idle chitchat wasn’t his forte.

“Riley lives with me now. She gives me a run for my money on ornery.” There was a rich irony and affection in the tone, as if he knew an old bastard like him shouldn’t be raising a young girl, but he liked it all the same.

Selina’s eyebrows almost arched off her forehead. “You’re child-rearing now?”

“Someone had to. She’s a good kid.” There was a wealth of love in that simple statement, but he gave no more explanation than that. No information about whether Riley’s parents had died, or abandoned her, or given up on her as a lost cause. Typical Holmes not to fill in any personal blanks. “Are you just checking in to make sure I’m still kicking or did you need something?”

She hesitated. No matter how much she burned inside to catch the motherfucker who killed her cousin, she found she just couldn’t take the old man away from a child who needed him. A child he obviously adored, in his own gruff style. She knew what it was like to live in a place where you weren’t wanted, and if Holmes came to help her with this hunt and something happened to him, then Selina would be putting a teenaged girl in the same situation she’d been in for so many years of her young life. She couldn’t do it.

“Just making sure you’re still alive and breathing.” But Grim nudged her with his nose. “Oh, and Grim wants me to say hello to Boleyn.”

“She’s right here.” A dog barked in the background. “And I’m not dead yet. That all you wanted?”

“Yep.” She chuckled. Same old Holmes. “Take care of yourself. And Riley and Boleyn. Bye.”

He grunted a farewell and disconnected.

She hung up, burying her fingers in Grim’s fur. The Normal had something left to live for, and Selina didn’t. She didn’t know if that was sad and pathetic, or just fitting. Shouldn’t she go when she had nothing left to keep her here? What better time was there? One last hurrah and then the show was over. Somehow the thought just made her feel ... empty. So she set the phone aside and went to wake up Jack for another round of distraction.

6

Selina’s feet pounded against the pavement as she ran. Her heart pounded, the blood and adrenaline racing through her veins. Air rasped in and out of her throat, and her lungs burned. Still, she pushed herself harder, faster, one hand clenched around the thick leather of Grim’s leash.

Her familiar had no problem keeping stride with her, his long body stretching into a gallop. So far, running herself into the ground hadn’t made her mind shake loose anything new about this case.

Frustration seared through her. She wanted this to go faster, to catch this guy and give his victims some peace. To give his victims’ families some peace. To give herself some peace. She ignored that that was going to be more Rest in Peace than peace of mind.

“Ready for more, Grim?”

He barked in return, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his dual-colored eyes gleaming. They’d been stopped a couple of times so people could look at his unique gaze, but Selina just wanted to run today. Sometimes it helped her think, and sometimes it just gave her an hour to outrun herself.

After more miles than she’d bothered to count, she slowed and glanced around. Self-derision jolted through her. She was on the corner of Jack’s block. He’d gone home earlier this morning, claiming that he was meeting someone for lunch. And he’d called the someone a “she,” so Selina was pretty sure he had a lunch date with another woman. She refused to let that bother her. A part of her had wanted to argue against him doing anything other than working with her today, but it was Sunday, and everyone deserved some downtime. They’d get a call if something happened that they needed to handle, but at the moment, they were just waiting for various people to run down paperwork for them.

It boggled her mind that Friday night, she’d been at Merek’s wedding, Saturday morning she’d been thrust back into her worst nightmare, and now the weekend wasn’t even over yet. It felt as though a million years had passed since she’d danced with Jack at the wedding.

Ignoring the urge to jog past his house, she forced herself to keep going a few more blocks to a local park. She’d take a spin around the park, get Grim some water, and then head back to her place before she drowned in her own sweat.

Kids ran around squealing with laughter on the playground, their parents close by keeping watch. Selina did an automatic sweep of the area to make sure nothing shady was going on. Far too many druggies and perverts liked to pick their prey at parks, but she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

The grass and trees were the vivid green she’d grown used to since relocating to Seattle. Someone who didn’t grow old by human standards had to learn to move every few decades or so, and she’d liked the atmosphere of the Pacific Northwest. Slowing to a stop at a drinking fountain, she took a swig and then turned on the faucet for Grim to lap up as much as he wanted.

She glanced around at the tennis courts, basketball courts, and softball field. The park was hopping. Everyone seemed to be taking advantage of a morning of nice weather.

“Dude, Peyton! Get the lead out!”

She froze at the sound of the familiar voice coming from the basketball court.

No. It couldn’t be. She’d deliberately avoided his house. It figured that Fate would be such a fickle bitch as to throw him into her path anyway. He’d said he had to meet someone for lunch—a woman—not a bunch of guys for a basketball game. He’d forgotten to mention this part. Then again, maybe his meeting with the other woman got cancelled, and this was Plan B.

That was not relief she felt. It was not. She refused. He meant nothing to her, and she didn’t give a damn if he slept with every female who crossed his path. She had magic on her side, and she took a monthly potion to ensure that she couldn’t get knocked up unless she wanted to. The same potion made sure there were no diseases he could give her either. If he wanted to slut around, then whatever. She hadn’t offered him any kind of exclusivity, and she didn’t expect any.

The writhing mass of ugliness that filled her chest at the thought of him banging another woman made a liar of her, but she ignored that. She didn’t have time left to get truly involved with anyone, and it wouldn’t be fair to do that to him even if she wanted to.

Still, she couldn’t stop herself from staring at the group of four men glistening with sweat while they played ball. They were all well built, so it wasn’t any kind of hardship on the eyes. Jack and Peyton seemed to be on the same team, playing against two other dark-haired men. One had had his nose broken more than once and the other was so good-looking he was almost pretty.

Grim tugged on his end of the leash, and she released the water fountain to stop the flow. He nudged her leg with his shoulder, trying to move her along with their run. She just glanced down at him and arched her eyebrows. “Hey, you might not be interested in shirtless guys, but did I stop you from doing a little prance past that cute poodle a few blocks back? Or stop you from letting her owner pet you and tell you what a pretty puppy you were?”

He made an indignant noise in his throat, then glanced at the men, gave a resigned sigh, and sprawled onto the ground at her feet. She chuckled and bent to rub him between the ears. The grunts, swearing, and squeaking tennis shoes brought her attention back to the men on the basketball court.

Jack slapped the ball out of the pretty boy’s hands and bounced it to Peyton, who was making an obvious effort not to use his superhuman speed. The two men they played against were clearly Normals. Some Magickals could disguise their abilities better than others, even from other Magickals, but there was always that shiver to the senses, that awareness, that another wielder of magic was nearby. Selina felt none of that with these two. They, like Jack, were Normal.

Which meant Peyton had to be careful not to be too strong or too good or have reflexes that were too swift for the human eye to follow. He was doing a good job of slowing himself down, Selina thought. Which was probably why the guy covering him managed to elbow him in the face while they both dove for the basketball.

The wolf staggered back, covering his nose with one hand and bending over to brace his other hand against his knee. He shook his head and said something Selina couldn’t hear when the guy who’d hit him tried to pull him upright.

“Dude, just let me look. It’s not nothing. I felt your nose give under my arm. It’s definitely broken.”

Or at least it had been before Peyton’s werewolf healing abilities had taken care of that little problem. And that sounded like a good cue for her to step in.

“Come on, Grim.” She jerked on his leash, and he groaned as if she were torturing him, even though he’d been the one wanting to move a few minutes before. Damn dog.

He made a funny little laughing noise in the back of his throat before he ambled forward with her.

“Hey, Jack. Hi, Peyton. I didn’t know you guys would be here today.” She lifted the bottom of her T-shirt and hastily swiped at the sweat on her face.

When she let her shirt drop, she found every man’s eyes glued to her midriff and chest, their gazes displaying varying levels of interest. Okay. Not the distraction she’d been going for, but she’d take what she could get. Peyton shot her a grateful glance as his unbroken nose was forgotten.

“Hey,” said Jack in greeting, his gaze sliding up from her breasts to meet her eyes, his voice a low growl that sent goose bumps down her skin. He shot a pointed, territorial glance to the other men, which was pretty rich considering he’d told her he was having lunch with another woman. “Guys, this is Selina Grayson.”

“Honey, you need to stay away from these Feebs. Try a real cop on for size.” The guy who’d elbowed Peyton gave her a cocky grin.

“Nah, she’d like the CIA better.” Pretty Boy ducked into her line of sight. “Ever taken a spook for a ride?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “She is a real cop, jokers. Detective Grayson is with the Seattle PD, but she’s using her expertise to assist Peyton and me on a case.”

She gave them a cool nod. Even though she was far too sweat-drenched to pull off ice queen, she’d give it a try. “Gentlemen. And I use that term lightly.”

“Probably for the best.” Mr. Cocky Cop gave her a slightly less lecherous smile and a solid handshake. “I’m Rick Tanner.”

“Hi.” She let his hand go the moment civility allowed it, but then she had to repeat the process with Pretty Boy, who tried to touch her longer than was necessary.

“I’m Stephen Mitchum.”

“Hello.” She extracted herself from his grip, and if she zapped him with a tiny spell that would feel like an electric shock, no one was any the wiser. He jerked a little and shook out his fingers.

Rick made a bid to recapture her attention. “We met Laramie in the marines. Before he went Feeb.”

“Semper fi,” Jack replied.

“Oorah, Devil Dog.” Stephen growled the words, while Rick made a weird barking noise that set Grim off. Selina hauled him back before he could lunge at the cop.

“I was never military.” Peyton’s normally impassive face showed incredulity for a brief moment. He glanced at Selina as if she were the voice of sanity.

She shook her head. “I did some time in the navy.”

Way back when the U.S. was fighting Nazis, but she kept that to herself.

Stephen’s face lit with a smile. “Oh, yeah? I’d like to see you in uniform.”

Or out of it. The words were unspoken, but everyone could read the sentiment on his expression. She should have zapped him harder.

Jack apparently decided to jump in before anyone else could hit on her. “Actually, guys, since Grayson’s here, I had a question for you that might help out our case.”

“Oh, yeah? Shoot.” Stephen bent over to retrieve the ball, tucking it under one arm.

“I’m looking for a pattern, a weird one.” Jack swiped the sweat from his face. “I’m wondering if anything has come across either of your desks recently.”

Rick chuckled and met Stephen’s glance. “He always wants the weird ones. His life has been a lot more interesting than mine since we left the corps. Okay, what brand of freaky are we talking about this time?”

“Someone attacked, roughed up bad, and drained of blood.”

Rick snorted. “Yeah, we had one of those. Wasn’t my case, but they caught the guy. Some loser ex-boyfriend who thought he was a vampire or something. Went to those fetish blood-drinking clubs and shit.”

Well, that would explain why it hadn’t popped on the Magickal PD’s radar. Selina idly rubbed between Grim’s ears. “Yeah, the loser might not be the loser you’re looking for.”

“You got another one?” Interest stirred in Rick’s voice.

“Yep.”

“I’ll let you guys be the ones to tell the detective you’re taking over her case.” Rick went over to a gym bag on the side of the court and dug around until he came up with a cell phone. “Let me get you her contact info.”

“Appreciate it.” Jack fished his phone from one of the deep pockets on his shorts and punched in the number his friend gave him. “I’d like to talk to this wannabe-vampire loser, too, just in case he knows something useful. What’s the detective’s name?”

“Connie Wright.”

He tapped more buttons on his phone. “Great, thanks.”

When he flashed a triumphant grin at Peyton and her, she arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah. Your hunch paid off.”

Not that she’d doubted it was a possibility that Mary Winston wasn’t their first victim in Seattle, but she’d been hoping. The fewer people who died, the better. That familiar wash of shame and failure crashed over her, Bess’s face flashing through her mind.

She jerked a bit when Stephen brushed up against her. When had he gotten closer? His gaze dropped to her chest. She gave Grim’s leash a twitch, and he let out a bark, muscling his big body between hers and Stephen’s. The dog licked his lips as if spook was his favorite meal, and Stephen backed off, his face going pale. Yeah, Grim and his evil eye had that effect on people.

Good doggie.

She stroked her fingers over her familiar’s silky forehead, swept the men with a glance, and decided it was time to bow out of this conversation.

“Jack can let me know when he gets in touch with Detective Wright.” She gave a short wave at the FBI agents. “I’ll see you guys at the office tomorrow. Bye.”

“Nice meeting you, Detective.” Rick gave her a polite nod, but there was still a glint of interest in his eyes. She refused to look at Jack and see if his gaze showed any interest. He’d planned to see another woman for lunch, and she didn’t give a shit if that made her sound jealous.

“Come on, Grim.” Turning on her heel, she jogged away from them, and ignored the fact that she could feel them scoping out her ass.

She’d barely managed to make it around a copse of trees and out of their line of sight when she heard footsteps pounding up behind her.

“Selina, wait.” Jack pulled even with her, his long legs keeping pace. “You barely even looked at me back there, and I got us a huge break in the case. What was that about?”

What did he want? A cookie? He was just doing his job. Now he could go and eat with some other woman. She shrugged, though she doubted it showed while she was bouncing along at a swift trot. “I was just trying to help Peyton out with the nose thing. I didn’t expect to end up in a professional tangle.”

“This whole separation of job and personal life is a big deal to you, isn’t it?” He dipped his head to try to meet her eyes.

She shot him an incredulous look. “What was your first clue, Laramie?”

“I get it with the sex with co-workers thing, but ... just running off like that bordered on rude and unfriendly.” He spoke easily, not even winded from running and talking at the same time.

“What was unfriendly was how all of you stared at my tits. So you’ll forgive me if I didn’t want to stand around and be ogled by my colleagues. It’s easier to think about breakthroughs in the case when no one is visually groping me. A little professional separation is a good thing, in my book.” If her voice came out choppy and sharp, she put it down to the fact that she was jogging, not that his accusation stung. So he thought she was a bitch. He wasn’t the only one.

“I’m not sure that you can’t be friends with your co-workers, which seems to be the extreme you’ve taken it to, but you’re right about us staring at you. That was rude, and I apologize.”

Damn. A graceful apology that undercut any ability to be pissy with him for not being buddies with her colleagues. Her teeth gritted together. Time to change the topic to something that didn’t have her on the defensive. “Aren’t you going to be late for your lunch date?”

“I can be a few minutes late.” He said it so casually, she wanted to smack him. Or blast him with a really nasty spell. If they weren’t in public.

She lengthened her stride a bit, but then she figured outrunning him was futile. Maybe after they went past his street, he’d stop following her. “Most women I know don’t like to be kept waiting.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Seriously, Selina. Did I do something to piss you off? I thought we had a good time last night.”

“We did. Or, at least, I did. I can’t speak for you.” She tossed her hair out of her face, annoyed by the damp strands clinging to her neck.

A strangled sound emerged from his throat. “If the ‘oh, fuck, yeah, just like that’ wasn’t a pretty good clue that I enjoyed myself, I’d be happy to get more vocal for you.”

Gods, was it hot out here or was it just her? Seattle was having a sudden heat wave. The vivid reminder of what Jack had said and done to her the night before sent her hormones into overdrive. A bead of sweat slithered between her breasts, and her breath came far faster than it needed to for the speed they were going. “You were fine.”

“Fine?” Indignation laced his tone along with a large dose of bruised masculine pride. “You say that to a fifteen-year-old who can barely find his dick. I’ve been better than fine for a long time, darlin’.”

“And modest, too.” She fought the need to smile, which just annoyed her because she didn’t want him to make her laugh, and she ignored the fact that that was totally irrational. It was just that kind of weekend. Off balance and thoroughly fucked.

He made an offended noise. “You want me to act like I don’t know what I’m doing?”

As if she’d go for a second round with someone like that. She echoed the offended sound he’d made. “We wouldn’t be sleeping together if that was the case.”

“Okay, then tell me what I did to piss you off.”

She had no idea how to put it into words without making it seem like she was more invested in this ... thing they had going than she was. “Look, it’s fine if you’re fucking someone else, but... announcing it as you leave my bed is bad form, you know?”

“Announcing? Fucking someone ... What the hell are you talking about?” Genuine confusion colored his words, and it took everything she had not to punch him. Hard. Which was not like her cool and collected self.

She tossed one hand up. “And I repeat, ‘I need to get back home and clean up some, make sure there’s food in my fridge. She’ll worry otherwise. We’re supposed to have lunch today. Gotta go, bye.’ Is this ringing any bells?” She widened her eyes at him. “So, yeah, I thought you’d given a pretty pointed indicator of what was going down today. Naughty nooner ... hot lunch date. Whatever.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Wow. I swear I’m not usually an ass about this kind of thing.”

Yeah, that was so reassuring. He usually juggled his women better than this.

“I’m having lunch with my mother. That’s the ‘she’ I was talking about, the one who would care if I’m working too hard and not taking care of myself.”

Oh.

Jack swung left down the next street, Grim close on his heels and dragging her along behind. Her mind spun, trying to process what he’d said, and being hit square between the eyes with just how hard the green-eyed monster had bitten her. She wasn’t supposed to care if he was shagging everything on two legs.

This was not a good sign.

It was only then that she realized she’d followed him to his house, which wasn’t what she’d planned. Story of this week, right? She sighed and slowed to a stop in front of his place, ready to say her good-byes, again, and take herself home for a shower and a few hours poring over the paperwork from the All-Magickal Council. She also needed to give some thought to what she wanted to ask this Connie Wright about the case she thought she’d closed. The wheels in Selina’s mind spun, a million details to consider bombarding her at once. With any luck, the first victim hadn’t been cremated and Tess could take another whack at an autopsy. With any luck, the wannabe vamp boyfriend could give them some useable information.

Luck had never been on her side with this killer, but she had to try.

“Hey.” Peyton appeared before them, and he didn’t seem the least bit winded. She and Jack had been jogging at a decent clip, and Peyton hadn’t passed them on the way. The wolf shouldn’t have been using his super speed to get back to the house first.

She narrowed her gaze at him. “How did you beat us here?”

“Took a shortcut through the neighbor’s yard.” He shrugged. “They’re friends.”

A shiver of awareness went down her spine, and she knew they were being watched. By Magickals. She could all but feel their gazes drilling into her. She tilted her head, opening her senses to try to discern where their observers were. And what they were. Werewolves. The thought hit her, that familiar boom of precognition that reverberated in her skull.

Magickals gave off certain signals that other Magickals could pick up, depending on the type of precognitive abilities they had. Some had the sight, like Merek. Others could read magic through physical touch, or hear it with clairaudience, a few could even taste it or smell it. Telepathy, telempathy, it ran the gamut, but every Magickal had some of it.

Werewolves and vampires had an animalist combination of extrasensory abilities, but she didn’t know if it was technically classified as clairvoyance. It made up for the fact that they sucked at casting spells.

Selina had a pretty low level of claircognizance. She just knew things, sometimes without any real explanation why. Gut instinct, she’d always considered it, but with a twist of magic.

And she knew they were being watched, the awareness growing, creeping down her skin and leaving gooseflesh behind.

“There are werewolves staring at us.” She met Peyton’s gaze. “Have you done anything to piss off your pack lately?”

“No.”

Chatty as always, that one.

“It’s my mom and stepfather.” Jack raised his hand and waved at someone down the street, who stepped out of a sedan with dark-tinted windows.

A woman who looked a lot like Jack jumped out of the passenger side of the car, while the driver was a man who could easily pass for a mountain boulder, he was that huge. The woman wasn’t short, but he easily dwarfed her. Both were definitely werewolves.

Selina expected to relax, knowing these weren’t enemies stalking them. Instead, nerves winged through her belly. She felt like she was meeting her boyfriend’s parents for the first time, and she wanted to bitch-slap herself for the feeling. No one knew she was sleeping with Jack, and she was not his girlfriend.

“We didn’t want to interrupt, so we gave you a minute to finish your conversation.” The big man rumbled, his voice matching his appearance. He didn’t acknowledge for a second that his wolf hearing could probably have reached far enough to overhear them.

Jack nodded, gesturing between the two groups. “Selina, Peyton, this is my mother, Angela Maria Bates Laramie Kerr.” The woman made a face at him and he winked. “And my stepfather, Darren Kerr.”

Selina had heard of Darren Kerr before. He was an up-and-comer in the local wolf pack. Some said he might make a bid for Alpha some day. And he was married to Jack’s mother.

They all shook hands, and Selina tried not to fidget as Angela gave her an assessing look. Gods, she was four times the age of this former Normal. She told herself to get a grip and just nodded at the other woman.

Angela smiled. “Great to meet you both. You’ll join us for lunch, of course.”

Oh, hell no. Selina had planned to cut and run half an hour ago. What was she even still doing here? She should be home now, reviewing files. She lifted Grim’s leash for everyone to see. “Oh, I have my dog with me, so I’ll have to—”

“Nonsense.” Angela flapped a hand, a steely light filling her gaze. The woman had made a decision, and that was that. Selina didn’t have to wonder where Jack got his tenacity from. “There’s this great little bistro a couple of blocks over. It has plenty of outdoor seating, and people bring their dogs there all the time.”

“Well ... uh ...”

Jack nudged her shoulder, flashing an enticing smile that did quivery things to her insides. “Come on, take your mind off of work for an hour. It’s good for you.”

He was right, damn it. Sometimes it did help to think about something else for a while. It was why she’d gone for a run in the first place. Her mind was still subconsciously working on the problem, and not focusing on it could let her sort it out. She hated when he did that. He seemed to know exactly what to say to cut any arguments out from under her. She fought back the need to growl. “Fine.”

Jack watched his mother hook her arm through Selina’s as the group walked down to the restaurant for lunch. “Jack has mentioned you.”

“Has he?” The death rays beaming out of Selina’s eyes made him damn glad she wasn’t allowed to do magic in public. He’d have been roasted by the hex she cast just then. “What has he mentioned about me?”

His mother shot him a wicked look, and Jack fought the urge to muzzle her. The thing about his dad dying and the two of them being left alone was that she’d become as much friend as parent, which meant she felt free to harass the shit out of him.

“I haven’t said anything.”

Both women snorted at that.

Peyton gave him a look that said he was screwed, but his stepdad didn’t feel the need to express the sentiment silently. “You are so hosed, son.”

“Thanks, Darren. That’s really helpful.”

The two women were now talking too quietly for him to overhear, and Jack tried not to worry. He hadn’t said a word about sleeping with Selina to anyone. It was no one’s business except his. And hers. But he was pretty certain she wouldn’t have said anything. She didn’t seem to have anyone she confided in. At least, no one she’d mentioned. He hit that frustrating wall where he lacked the knowledge he craved to answer all his questions. He could school himself to patience all he wanted, but it was maddening. She told him just enough that he couldn’t protest she was refusing him, but she stonewalled any real attempt to know her. He hadn’t been fooled the night before that she’d teared up over an old case that haunted her. Sure, that would be enough to throw her off balance, but tears? No. She wasn’t the type to cry over ancient news—she was too experienced a cop for that. There was something else she wasn’t telling him; he could feel it.

It made him want to shake her, take her over his knee and spank her. The thought of her bare ass draped over his lap made his cock stiffen. He thrust that line of thinking away before he humiliated himself. It was a good thing his basketball shorts were loose or he’d be more than a little uncomfortable right now. Even now, Darren shot him a knowing look, then glanced at Selina and raised his eyebrows.

Jack kept his face impassive, but he doubted the older man was fooled. Who else would he be getting revved up about? It sure as hell wasn’t his mother, and Selina was the only other woman here. Damn. He’d tipped his hand. He could only hope Peyton hadn’t noticed, but it was unlikely. That wolf missed very little. The only consolation Jack had was that Peyton didn’t gossip. Or even talk much.

He might get out of this morning without Selina skinning him alive. First, he’d let her think he was having a nooner with another woman, and then he’d let it slip that they were knocking boots. He was batting a thousand here. Awesome.

“Jack! Aunt Angela, Uncle Darren!” A slender blond woman came flying out of the café and threw herself into Darren’s arms. Then she hugged Jack and Angela, shook hands with Selina and Peyton, and escorted them to a table on the patio under a big umbrella.

“Friend of yours?” Selina arched her eyebrows, a grin twitching at her lips, as she watched the younger woman croon over Grim.

“Something like that. The blonde is Holly Kerr, and that’s Erin Bates.” He waved to a curvaceous brunette who poked her head out the door of the restaurant. “My step-cousin and my bio-cousin went into business together.”

“Cousin?” For just a moment, Selina wore the same stricken expression he’d seen yesterday before she masked it. She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “It’s good you have family. When you’re around as long as me, you tend to be the last one standing.”

His mother made a sympathetic noise, but something told Jack that Selina hadn’t been telling the whole story. Another secret she was keeping. It just made him more determined to dig under her defenses and learn everything about her. He couldn’t say why he was so fixated on it, only that no woman had affected him the way she did in close to forever, and he had to figure out why. What made her different from all the other females who’d gone in and out of his life over the years?

“Holly has her MBA.” He pointed to the woman petting Grim. Then he gestured to where the brunette had disappeared. “Erin went to culinary school. They also own that new bakery over on Broadway.”

Selina blinked. “You mean Sugar Rush?”

“That’s the one.” He grinned, proud of what his relatives had accomplished.

Her mouth formed a moue. “Good congolais.”

“What?” Peyton spoke for the first time.

She shrugged. “It’s a coconut cookie biscuit thing. It’s good.”

“Do they serve it here?” A keen interest shone in his gaze, and Jack had to wonder if the wolf had a serious sweet tooth. It was certainly the most interest he’d ever displayed in anything besides work ... and Tess, but that was a topic Jack wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. He had to associate with Peyton, Tess, and Cavalli for the rest of his foreseeable career. While Tess didn’t work with them directly, since she was a medical examiner, it didn’t make it any less awkward that Cavalli and Peyton both wanted the same woman they all dealt with on a regular basis.

“I’ve heard of you, Agent Peyton. Or is it Peyton Something?” Holly quit petting Grim and stood up to face the table. She cocked a hip and propped a hand on it, her lips curling flirtatiously as she looked Peyton over. The barest flash of wolf canines showed in her smile. “One of my friends is the archivist for the pack, so she handles preserving all the pack records, and she says yours don’t indicate a first name. Just the one name, like Prince or Madonna.”

Jack snorted.

Remaining impassive, Peyton didn’t return the smile or the flirtation. “I’m afraid that’s not a question I can answer for you.”

“Top secret spy stuff.” She nodded sagely, winking. “Unless you don’t know your own name.”

Peyton just grunted, picked up a menu, and began thumbing through it.

Her laughter tinkled out at his response, or lack thereof. “I’ll be back to take your orders in a few minutes.”

“And I’ve got coffee for everyone.” Erin, his Normal cousin, bless her culinary genius heart, passed out empty cups and just left an entire pot of liquid ambrosia for them. She dragged Holly away with her.

Silence dropped over the table, and Jack sighed in relief. His mother poured coffee in everyone’s mug and then buried her nose in her menu. Under any other circumstances, he loved going out with his parents, but this seemed ready to explode in his face. He’d invited Peyton and a couple of his contacts in other law enforcement agencies in order to introduce them, establish more contacts for the wolf over in the Normal world, and have a nice competitive game of basketball at the same time. He hadn’t expected to run into Selina, or to have anyone dragged along for a warped version of Meet the Parents.

Selina let her menu drop to the table and narrowed her eyes at Peyton. “I’d say you owe me for saving you from the nose-breaking drama back there.”

A single eyebrow arched. “Did you want me to buy your lunch?”

“No, I want you to answer a question.” She barely took a breath before she launched her little bomb. “Are you shagging Tess?”

Jack choked on his coffee, and Darren reached over to pound him between the shoulder blades, nearly collapsing his rib cage.

“Holy shit, Selina. How are you going to ask a man that at lunch?” Especially considering what a privacy Nazi she was about her own personal life.

Rubbing his jaw, Peyton sighed. “Yes. I’m sleeping with Tess.”

The elf reached over and socked him in the arm. “Why, you sly dog ... uh, wolf, I mean.”

A bark of laughter spilled out of Peyton, and he shook his head at her. Jack just stared at the other man. He’d worked with Peyton for several years, and he was pretty sure that was the first time he’d heard the werewolf laugh.

Peyton took a sip of his coffee, hiding a grin. “I prefer it not become something you speculate about at the office, which is the only reason I’m confirming it for you. Once the gossip starts, no matter how true or untrue, it doesn’t tend to stop. I trust you won’t say anything.”

“I can assure you of my discretion.” Selina leaned back in her chair.

It was a smart move on Peyton’s part. He now had two people at the FBI office and two more who were influential in pack politics who would dissuade any rumors of a sexual liaison between Tess and Peyton. Well played.

“Now you.” Angela propped her elbows on the table, gluing her gaze on the elf. “Are you shagging Jack?”

Selina didn’t squirm, didn’t flush, didn’t do anything to give a reaction away. “I don’t answer questions about my personal life.”

An incredulous sound burst out of Jack, he couldn’t help it. “After what you just asked Peyton, isn’t that a little hypocritical?”

Her mouth formed a thoughtful moue. “No ... I don’t owe anybody. Peyton owed me, remember? I don’t have to admit to anything.”

“So you admit there’s something to admit to. Ha! I knew it,” Angela sang out. “I knew it, I freaking knew it.”

Selina’s dark eyes slitted. “What exactly did you say about me?”

“Nothing! I mentioned I was working with a new woman. That’s it.” Jack heaved a sigh. How had this devolved so fast? And how had it ended up his fault? He hadn’t put anyone on the spot about their private life.

“It was the tone he used. A mother can sense these things.” Angela held up her finger. “I knew it. I even told Darren after you mentioned her on the phone yesterday, didn’t I?”

Darren chuckled and reached over to run a hand down his wife’s hair, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Yes, my love, you told me.”

She grinned, cupped his face in her hands, and smacked a kiss on his lips. “I adore you.”

“Please, people. You’re going to kill my appetite before I can even get a bite of the food.” Jack groaned, teasing them as he had since they started dating in his teens.

Darren reached over and ruffled his hair, and Jack laughed and ducked away as best he could in his chair. His laughter died when he glanced up and saw sadness cross Selina’s face. Did it pain her to see people interacting with family? When had she last let anyone in enough to let them joke and play with her in public? She was so locked down, so frozen everywhere except in bed, he was always surprised to even hear her laugh. That couldn’t be healthy, and he didn’t give a damn how much older and more experienced she was, he knew repressed and unhealthy when he saw it. All he could do was loosen her up and hope she didn’t hex his ass in the process. Good thing he was a man who liked risks.

She looked away from him, offering his stepdad a smile. “So how’re things going in the packs? Your leader has some fascinating thoughts about the treatment for lycanthropy Chloe Standish is developing.”

Now there was a subtle topic change guaranteed to light Darren’s fire. Jack glanced around them. There was no one else sitting near them on the patio, so unless they had werewolf hearing, they weren’t going to hear an elf asking about werewolves.

Darren growled, the sound bestial enough to have Grim on his feet searching for the threat. Selina reeled her familiar in and stroked his head. Darren’s face darkened as he spoke. “They’re arguing about how to handle the treatment when it comes on the market. Some are even talking about rejecting it, as if they’d have that kind of say in things. People are going to be all over it no matter what. They’re chomping at the bit now, just waiting for it to make it through FDA approval. The pack Alpha is an archaic moron, and his son is even worse because he should know better.”

Darren was big and quiet, and he’d scared the shit out of Jack when he’d met him as a kid. But his stepfather was solid. He’d lay down his life for those he loved, and that was a bedrock Jack and his mother had both needed back then.

The pack leaders had pissed Darren off more and more the last few years, and Jack wouldn’t be surprised if his stepfather challenged the current heir for leadership when the Alpha died. The ins and outs of wolf pack politics were always a bit murky, but Jack was fairly certain challenging for leadership involved hand-to-hand combat.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about his family getting that deep into politics, but Cavalli’s father was on the Vampire Conclave, and Merek had just married into a family that ruled the Witch Coven, so Jack figured he’d be fine.

“Well, you know the pack Alpha has had his hands full. Maybe caution would serve him well.” Absolute evil gleamed in Selina’s gaze as she dove headfirst into a political debate with Darren, with his mother egging them both on, while Jack and Peyton watched with amusement.

This? This was the Selina Jack wanted to see more of. When she let some cracks show in those walls of hers, she was amazing to watch. If she were like this all the time? It would be almost irresistible. Not that he minded the ice queen, but the warmer, more passionate Selina was damn fun.

Peyton apparently thought so, too. This was probably the closest Jack had ever seen the wolf come to a full-on smile. Another Magickal who could use some time blowing off a little steam. Maybe Tess would do that for him, though Jack didn’t even want to think about what that meant for Cavalli. That was a hot mess Jack wanted no part of, and he hoped like hell it didn’t spill over into the office.

Selina hadn’t admitted to anything about their affair, which didn’t surprise Jack at all. She’d said she wouldn’t answer personal questions, and that was final. Jack had no clue where things with them were going, but he was willing to strap in for the ride and find out. As he watched her yank his stepfather’s chain—a mountain of a werewolf that made most people shake in their boots—he knew he’d at least be entertained, no matter what came of this.

I like this one. She’s got grit. His mother’s telepathic voice whispered in his head.

Yeah, that was the problem. He liked this one, too. Far more than was good for his peace of mind.

7

“Where are you from, originally?” Jack glanced over at Selina as he drove them back to his place after dinner. They’d spent the entire time discussing work, going over details of the case. It had been a long, frustrating week and a half of accomplishing not much. Between Selina, Peyton, and Jack, they’d questioned everyone who might know anything, pored over every file until they had all the words memorized, stared at every crime scene photograph until it was seared into their brains, and they were no further ahead than they had been ten days ago.

“Where are you from, originally?” she countered.

“North Carolina. Camp Lejeune. Then I joined the marines and was stationed down near San Diego, at Camp Pendleton. When I wasn’t overseas, which I was quite a bit.” To put it mildly. He’d spent more time away than he had at home. “Now you. Where are you from?”

She shifted in the passenger seat to look at him. “What, I don’t sound like an American to you? Do I have an accent showing?”

“Not at all, but since you’re not Native American, it’s not that likely that you were born in the U.S.” He turned into his driveway and hit the remote to open his garage door. “Am I right?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged, smoothing the fabric on her slacks. “I lived a couple of human lifetimes in England, which is where I was born.”

“Did your parents stay there when you came here?” he prompted, because she never seemed to be willing to talk about her family.

“No. They were dead,” she said shortly, staying true to form.

“How did they die?”

Not answering, she looked out the window as he pulled forward into the garage.

He pressed the button to lower the garage door a little harder than was necessary. “Were their deaths what brought you to America?”

“No, first I spent some time in France and Spain, then decided it was time to emigrate.” She recited the facts by rote, as if she’d given this answer many times. “I ended up in New Orleans for a while, went to Georgia, then New York, then back to New Orleans, then came west to Seattle.”

“That’s a lot of moving around.” Annoyance spiked through him about how she sidestepped talking about anything that mattered to her.

“After you look exactly the same and don’t really age for about twenty years, people start to wonder why you still look so young. It used to be, they thought you’d sold your soul to Satan for eternal youth. Now they think I’ve had some work done.” She looked down at her nearly flat chest. “Though why I’d have them do my face and not give other parts of me a boost, I don’t know.”

He didn’t take the bait to talk about her breasts, which he knew she expected. “What did the rest of your family think about you leaving Europe?”

She turned to look at him. “I don’t have any family left now.”

Which didn’t answer his question at all. He’d asked about her family then, not now. He opened his mouth to call her on it when her hands reached over the console to cup his cock through his trousers. A wicked grin formed on her face, and she curled a pleasure spell around his dick.

The air whistled out of his lungs as lust slammed into him. “Fuck me.”

“That’s the idea.” Her grin spread, and she unzipped his pants. “I thought it was time to change the subject.”

All the blood rushed out of his brain and went straight to his cock. He was rock hard in moments, and her hands dipped into his boxers, one grasping his shaft and the other moving deeper to fondle his balls.

He let his head fall back against the seat, swallowing hard as her slim fingers stroked up and down his dick. Fire fisted in his gut, and when she lit him up with a spell that felt like a thousand feathers brushing across his overheated flesh, his hips all but lifted off the seat. His knee slammed into the door, but he ignored the discomfort. No man in his right mind would interrupt a moment like this.

The rush of her warm breath washed over his cock, and his muscles shook with anticipation. Yes. He wanted her mouth on him. A groan was the only response he could make when her lips sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth. Her hot tongue flicked over the head, and he shuddered, twining his fingers in her hair and urging her forward. She scraped his skin with her teeth, and his breath hissed in. “Suck me hard.”

She chuckled and gave him what he wanted, drawing him in deep. Her hand still caressed his testicles, and then moved up to cinch around his shaft, pumping him between her fingers in time with her mouth. Every so often, a pleasure spell would streak over his skin. He couldn’t predict them, and they left him hanging on to his control by the slenderest of threads.

His hips rose to press into her, and he used his grip on her hair to push her down while he fucked her mouth. Heat pounded through him, and he didn’t think he could wait. The warm suckling, the tight grip she had on his cock, any minute now his skull would explode.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.” He didn’t want to make the offer to quit, but most women didn’t take kindly to no warning before a man came in her mouth.

“Mmm,” she hummed, and the vibrations were half her and half magic.

He couldn’t hold back, his hand tightened in her hair, and he jetted into her mouth, coming in long, hard spurts. She sucked him through it all, dragging it out until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Everything centered on what her mouth did to him. He shuddered again and again, sweat sliding down his skin, his lungs bellowing as he tried to drag in enough oxygen.

Letting his cock slide free of her mouth, she sat up and licked her lips. “Was it good for you, too?”

When he could catch his breath, he laughed. “Wow, you really didn’t want to talk about it, did you?”

She huffed out a breath, turning to face forward in her seat. “It’s not relevant, Jack. Let it go.”

“Is it that terrifying to you that someone might be curious about you? That they might know you? That they might want to be close enough to be called a friend?” Because at the moment his friends-with-benefits plan was more co-workers with benefits and not much else. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem with him, but with her ... it was. He didn’t like that it bothered him, but he couldn’t help it. “How did you get along so well with Merek if you’re this closemouthed about yourself?”

“Kingston had a past he didn’t want anyone digging into either. We respected each other’s boundaries, and it worked for us.” Her glance told Jack what she thought of his attempts to disrespect her boundaries.

Before he could retort, her gaze dropped to his phone, which had been trapped underneath her when she bent over the console. She was already reaching for it when it rang.

He frowned. “That one’s mine, not yours.”

“I know, but it’s important. Something’s wrong.” She handed him the vibrating, blaring phone. The number was one he didn’t recognize.

He pushed the button to answer and flipped it to speakerphone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jack.” The voice was both young and grave at the same time. “It’s Alex. Nemov. Merek and Chloe’s adopted son?”

“I know who you are, Alex. I saw you at the wedding a week ago.” His mind raced, trying to sort out why the teen wolf would be calling him. “What can I do for you?”

“Uh ... before Merek and Chloe left, I might have heard them talking about a case you were taking on. Where Magickals were tortured with the metal they’re allergic to and then drained of blood.”

“Yes, why do you ask?” Only he was pretty sure he knew why. There was only one reason to call and ask about something like that. They had another one. His muscles tensed, and he pushed the button to open the garage back up. “Where are you right now?”

He heard the teen swallow. “I’m at my girlfriend’s house to pick her up for a date ... she’s running late from softball practice, but her stepdad was going to let me in to wait. He didn’t answer the door ... and something just didn’t feel right. So I walked around the house and saw him through the window. He’s dead. The way Merek described.”

“What’s the address?” He looked to Selina, who’d already reached into her bag to get a notepad to write it down. Alex rattled off the street number.

“You can bring Detective Grayson with you, right? She’s there with you.”

Jack froze, his hands poised to turn on the car. Selina hadn’t said a word, so how had the kid known that? “She’s working with me on the case, yes, but it’s after-hours. What makes you think she’s with me?”

A short laugh came through the line. “I may have been eavesdropping when Merek told Chloe he had a vision of you two bumping uglies.”

“Nice.” Jack hit the gas to back out of the garage, and punched the button to close the door behind them the moment they were clear. The sky had opened up while they were inside, and rain poured down on the car. He flipped on the windshield wipers.

“So she’s with you, right? Or should I call her, too? I haven’t called the cops yet.” The wolf sounded annoyed with himself for not thinking to dial the police’s number. “I should call them.”

“We can take care of that, Alex,” Selina replied. “We’re on our way.”

“How did you get my number?” Jack asked, mostly to keep the kid talking, to keep him distracted from the fact that he was a few yards away from a stiffening body.

“Merek said he had a feeling I might need it someday.” Alex snorted. “When Merek has a feeling, you listen and you program the number into your phone right then.”

“Good point.” One didn’t argue with the premonitions of the most powerful precog alive. “Sit tight. We’re not far. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Sooner is better. I’ll be waiting.” The line went dead as Alex hung up.

They pulled to a stoplight, and Jack braked and fastened his pants, while Selina clipped her seat belt into place. He had no memory of her taking it off, but considering what her mouth and hands had been doing to him, he wasn’t that surprised. “Looks like I’ll have to make it up to you later.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Her gaze flashed naked heat for a brief moment before she masked it. “Let’s go.”

“Put the light up, would you?”

She grabbed the portable blue strobe light, put it on his dashboard, and turned it on. Jack pressed his foot on the gas, speeding through the streets to get them there as quickly as possible. Selina stayed on the phone the whole way, calling people to let them know where to go and what they needed.

She hung up as he turned onto the correct street. “Peyton is going to be awhile. He’s out in Renton doing something for Cavalli that he can’t give specifics about.”

“With those kinds of assignments, it’s best not to ask questions.” The car fishtailed on the wet pavement a bit as he skidded to a stop at the curb.

Alex was already on the sidewalk waiting for them, his face far more composed than any teenager’s should be in the situation. “Hey.”

“Thanks for calling.” Jack offered him a hand to shake.

Selina nodded to him, tugging on a pair of latex gloves. She pulled another pair out of her bag and handed them to Jack. “We’re going to go in and check things out. Wait out on the porch for our backup, would you?”

“I already saw everything, Selina. Don’t worry about me having a meltdown.” The young werewolf cocked an eyebrow and followed them anyway. “I’m pretty sure the flashing light and messed-up park job will clue them in on which house it is.”

Instead of arguing, Jack loped up to the house. The front door was open. He glanced at Alex. “You went inside?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “The shield spells were down, and Merek showed me how to pick a lock. Other than checking for a pulse, I didn’t touch ... the body.”

“What’s his name?” Jack squeezed the kid’s shoulder.

“Jason Mathison.” The wolf put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been going out with his stepdaughter for about a month. His wife is pregnant. She’s going to have a son in a couple of months. She’s Normal. He’s an elf.”

Jack frowned, stepping inside the house. It looked like a regular house, nothing strange, except he could already sense that creepy sense of stillness. Quiet where there should be noise and life. “Jason Mathison. I know that name.”

“Shield Security Consulting,” Selina murmured.

He blinked. “They installed my security system at home, using bespelled talismans because I have no magic.”

“Mine, too. The electronic system, that is. I do the shields myself.” Selina turned to Alex. “You said the shields were down when you got here?”

A bathroom off the hallway was where the carnage started. It looked like Mathison had been shot there and dragged to the bedroom, a thick blood trail pointing the way.

“Yeah, which has never happened before.” Puzzlement filled the teen’s voice. “Even when he knows I’m coming over, I have to wait on the porch for him to open the shield circle and let me in.”

The bedroom was the same as before. Only worse. The wreckage was just as bad, the splattered blood, the body draped facedown on the bed, the twin holes ripped into the neck, flesh festering from the application of iron.

But this time Jack recognized the face that went with those lifeless eyes. He’d known this man, had worked with him to secure his house even against powerful Magickal beings. It was bitterly ironic that someone who specialized in security would be killed after his house was broken into. Sickness coated his stomach, but he pushed aside personal reaction.

Sirens approached outside, growing louder by the second. Selina turned for the door. “I’ll meet them outside, get the perimeter sealed off. Tess should be here soon to start processing.”

People began trickling into the house. Uniformed officers, a couple of agents in FBI jackets. Jack directed them to various rooms. Alex faded into the background, wandering around the place, not saying much. He eased closer when Selina came back a few minutes later. “It looks like he entered and left through the back door.”

Approaching them, Alex pitched his voice low. “Look, I’ve been here before several times, and there’s a couple of differences I sense that you should know about.”

Selina arched her eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“Well, some of it might be the cops here, but maybe not.” He frowned, shook his head. “Two things. First, I sense a vampire male. One that I’ve ... met before, but I can’t place where.”

“The killer is a male vampire.” Jack’s heart thumped at the thought that Alex might know something they could work with, but how a sense could help them, he wasn’t sure. He’d have the teen walk the perimeter of the house and see if he could pick up the scent again. Considering vampires could fly if they half-shifted, Jack had his doubts the trail would lead anywhere but a dead end. This murderer had been too smart for something so easy to give him away. They couldn’t overlook the possibility, though. “And the second thing?”

“When we came through the house the second time ...” Alex lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “I sense a Normal male came through the house.”

“I’m a Normal male.”

“Not you. I know your essence, and none of the other men here are Normals.” Alex shook his head. “That’s all I’ve got. Someone was here that I’ve never sensed before. I don’t know if it’ll help at all in your investigation, but ... I sense a Normal male.”

“And I see one.”

The drizzle splashed down on the glass of a sunroom at the end of the hall, but Selina still caught a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. A man stared at her through the glass for just a moment before he turned and fled.

“Don’t move! Stay right where you are.”

He didn’t, of course. He ran as if someone had lit his ass on fire.

“Laramie, cut him off!” She didn’t wait to see if he did as she said. He’d do his job, and she knew it. Her heart leapt into a gallop, and she charged down the hall toward the man. She pulled her weapon and slammed through the glass door on the sunroom, bursting through it so hard it crashed against the side of the house.

Sprinting around the detached garage, she saw the man hopping the back fence.

“Freeze! Seattle PD! Stop and put your hands up.”

Yeah, as if that ever really worked, but it was police protocol to give fair warning before you tackled someone’s ass to the ground and made him eat pavement.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she raced for the fence, grabbed the top, and used a small spell to propel herself over it. She hit the alley beyond at a dead run, sweat pouring down her skin. Rain plastered her clothes to her body, dripping down her face and clouding her vision. Muscles screeched a protest as she pushed for more speed, but she ignored the discomfort. If this son of a bitch turned out to be an innocent bystander who knew nothing, she’d kick his ass.

There. A flash of his dark coat as he went around the corner of a house.

“Freeze!” Jack bellowed as he came up a side street. No luck cutting anyone off.

“Take the north side. I’ll go south.” She spit out the words, her breathing ragged. They split in different directions, Selina following the suspect directly, Jack speeding around the opposite corner to try to cut the man off again.

It was all Selina could do not to fire off a stunning spell, but there could be Normals watching, and she couldn’t risk the exposure. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Holding out her free hand, she flicked off a tiny spark of magic that brought down a pile of trash cans in front of their suspect. He tripped and stumbled over them.

Jack rounded the corner, coming from the opposite direction, and she knew they had him trapped. A fierce smile curved her lips and she kicked in a little more speed, closing the space between them. Alex bounded past her, caught the man easily, and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. Lifting him with one hand, he slammed him against a fence. The look on the kid’s face could chill the blood.

Selina and Jack closed in, tucking their weapons away. Jack pulled out his cuffs from the holster on his belt. “Put him down, Alex.”

The suspect kicked and wriggled, but there was no way a Normal could overpower a werewolf. Alex thunked the man on the ground, holding him while Jack slapped the cuffs on. “Subtle, Nemov.”

Alex had the good grace to look sheepish. “Yeah, you’re right. Don’t tell Merek and Chloe. Or Aunt Millie. It’s not my best day today.”

“I didn’t do nothin’!” the Normal man whined, struggling against Jack, who easily controlled the movements, pushing him until his back was against a fence and they had him surrounded.

Alex snorted and gave the man a hard look. “Yeah, then why do you have Jason’s coat on?”

The suspect’s jaw jutted pugnaciously, dirt so ingrained in his skin that the rain wasn’t having much effect. His filthy hair dripped more dirt. Homeless, probably. Boozer, for sure. “He ain’t gonna need it no more. He’s dead.”

Selina got in his face, wishing she hadn’t when she got a whiff of him, but she refused to back down. She narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “How’d you know he was dead if you didn’t do anything?”

The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “No crime against lookin’.”

“Stealing is a crime.” She fingered the coat, glad she was wearing gloves. “Resisting arrest is a crime. Obstructing justice is a crime. Withholding evidence in a police investigation is a crime. Start talking.”

His jaw worked. “You’ll think I’m crazy. Or drunk.”

“Try me.” She straightened back into cleaner air. The man hadn’t bathed in at least a month. “I’ve heard a lot of crazy things from drunk people over the years. Doesn’t mean they’re lying.”

He swallowed. “I saw a man.”

“Yeah, what kind of man?” She folded her arms. “What did he look like?”

“He was a tall, white guy with red hair.” He went to lift his cuffed hand, but twisted oddly as his other hand came along for the ride. “Really red.”

“And? When do we get to the drunk-crazy part?” She put a subtle truth spell behind the question, a demand for answers that most humans wouldn’t be able to avoid or ignore. It would compel all but the most stubborn of minds.

The Normal’s eyes glazed for a moment as the spell hit him. “He had ... fangs. I know it sounds nuts, but I ain’t had a drink all day.” He shook his head. “Maybe they were caps or something, because they looked like real teeth and not some Halloween costume. But the dead guy had holes in his neck like he’d been sucked—bitten—whatever.”

“Yeah, probably caps, but that’s helpful. Some vampire wannabe.” She glanced at Jack, who was already on the phone, calling for a telepath to come clean up the guy’s memories. “All right, we’re going to have one of our agents get you some food and whatever you need. Thanks so much for your help.”

“I’m not crazy.” There was a sad note of pleading in the homeless man’s voice.

“I believe you. This will help with our investigation.” She gave him a nod. “You did good.”

She took a couple of steps away, close enough the guy wouldn’t be able to escape if he tried anything, but far enough that he wouldn’t be able to overhear.

“Gregor.” Selina and Alex said it at the same time. The bright red hair, vampire, penchant for killing people. There was only one person who met that description. Gregor—a jack-of-all-trades mercenary, bodyguard, and assassin. Deadly, enigmatic, and expert at slipping through law enforcement’s fingers. Everyone on the force in Seattle had taken a swipe at him at least once. If she’d known Bess’s killer all this time, she thought she might be sick.

“I knew I’d sensed that vampire male before.” Alex’s expression was carefully blank, his face pale under his tan. “He was there. When they put a silver bullet in me. And when my father was killed. Now he killed Jason, too?”

She closed her eyes and let her chin drop to her chest. Everything about this case was determined to slam daggers into her soul, reminding her that if she’d caught this guy thirty years ago, she’d have saved so many lives. “Let’s bring Gregor in and ask him what he was doing here. If we can even catch him.”

8

The days were starting to blur together for Jack. Too little sleep and too much time spent twisting every piece of information to try to make them all make sense somehow. They had another victim and were still spinning their wheels. It was maddening.

Peyton was working on tracking down the elusive Gregor. They were still waiting for the New Orleans files. As Jack had suspected, Hurricane Katrina had messed with where they stored the old boxes of cold cases, and they’d been piled in some warehouse since, never reorganized. Luca had finally sent a junior field agent to work with the Magickals down there to sift through and find what they needed. What a snafu.

Grit burned Jack’s eyes as he poured two mugs of liquid caffeine from the espresso machine in the office lounge—one cup for him and one for Selina. She’d be in soon, and anticipation quickened his blood, despite the fact that he’d seen her only hours before, when he’d slipped out of her bed to head home and get ready for the day. He wouldn’t have minded showering at her place and driving in together, but she’d been more than a little resistant to the idea since they started this affair. She liked her boundaries.

He didn’t get why that irked him so much. Most of the time, he was a keep-it-light kind of guy when it came to women. Sure, they were friends, lovers, co-workers, but his wife had pretty much taken any chance of him committing to a real relationship with her when she died. What he had going with Selina should be perfect. He liked being with her, the sex was amazing, and she’d been clear from the start that this was a temporary affair. It would probably end when this case did and she went back to the Seattle PD. So why the hell did he want to push her for more than that? He knew he would never do it, but the temptation was there. He couldn’t even begin to explain it, didn’t even want to try to, so he put it from his mind. Something to think about later.

“Mornin’, Jack.”

“Delta.” He smiled at a blond agent who’d transferred to the Seattle office a couple of months before. Gorgeous vampire, short, but stacked like a brick house.

He wasn’t interested. A few weeks ago, he’d considered asking her out, but now he didn’t have even a smidgeon of desire for that kind of pursuit.

Catching sight of a slender elf walking past the windowed walls of the break room, her stride purposeful, as if she were on a mission, he dismissed the pretty blonde from his mind and followed Selina.

“Grayson,” he called, and she spun around to face him.

She didn’t bother with pleasantries, just dove into speech. “You know, thirty years is a long time for a psycho to go straight.”

Selina opened the door to his office and waved him in, which made him grin. She was lucky he wasn’t the kind of man who felt the need to posture and prove his manhood.

Handing her a cup of coffee, he dropped into his chair and leaned back, rolling her comment over in his head. “I suppose it is, but Magickals like our guy have five centuries, right? Three decades wouldn’t be that long to wait for round two.”

“I don’t know. What we’re dealing with is a compulsion, a sickness. It’s not about thinking, Well, if I have five hundred years, every thirty or so is a nice gap. It’s about playing out that compulsion over and over again.” She settled into her usual chair opposite his desk, dropped her bag to the floor, and crossed her legs.

Damn, he loved her legs. He had to concentrate to keep his gaze on her face. Those legs had been tangled with his while they slept every night. He’d never have pegged her for a cuddler, but he wasn’t about to complain when it meant he had her soft and naked in his arms. Not when it let him think about something other than this total bitch of a case.

She made an impatient gesture. “I haven’t been able to get that out of my head. Why here, and why now? But then I thought ... what if it wasn’t just here and now?”

“Right.” He went with that line of thinking quickly enough, excitement humming through him. “What if there have been killings in between, somewhere else? What if New Orleans wasn’t even his first stop? Maybe we’re only picking this up now because we have you—someone who’s dealt with this before.”

“And Merek by extension, who’d heard me talk about it with Theodore.” She seemed to realize she had coffee in her hand and took a deep swig.

He laced his fingers over his belly, turning his head to look at the whiteboard on his wall. The three victims’ pictures were up there, along with stats and time lines. One Normal, two Magickals. So far. He glanced at Selina. “You think we need to crawl through the databases and look for similarities?”

“Yeah, I do.” She nodded decisively. “What if it was missed before because Magickals try so hard to avoid attracting Normal attention? Maybe one or two deaths occurring in a particular way wouldn’t garner the attention that four would. What if the combination of Normal and Magickal victims has made him impossible to trace?”

“Could be. Our first victim had cut ties with her Magickal husband after she was divorced, which is why she was overlooked until I asked Rick.” The wheels in his head started spinning with more possibilities, further inquiries to look into. “Our killer may not even have stayed in this country, making it even harder to connect the dots. But we have Interpol now, and we can contact them as well.”

“Good. We should do that.”

Many hours and multiple cups of coffee later, they had some answers, and they weren’t good. Thousands of crime scene descriptions and photographs had scrolled by on their computer screens. They’d looked at everything they could get their hands on. Normal and Magickal divisions. Police departments for every major American city, NSA, CIA, FBI, Interpol, Scotland Yard. They’d even looked through the Canadian Mounties’ files. Or at least the ones that had been digitized. Jack wasn’t quite certain how Luca got the unit access to all the information that he did, but Jack suspected it might not be through entirely legal or legitimate channels. Then again, anything to do with magic and Magickal crimes wasn’t entirely aboveboard. It was the nature of the beast.

They’d hit pay dirt with the Mounties, the Normal side of the FBI, and a few American PDs. The photos had been eerily familiar, the crimes unsolved, and long considered cold cases. Just like in New Orleans. Just like their murders in Seattle.

“Five cities in the last thirty years.” Selina sat back in her chair, her expression stunned, even though the idea to check into this had been hers.

“There may be even more than this.” He had to say it out loud, but his stomach churned all the same. It wasn’t the images that bothered him—he’d seen worse—it was that no one had put the pieces together until just now. Thirty years of unsolved crimes, thirty years of people dying because no one thought to check into Normal victims that hadn’t been flagged as obvious Magickal crimes and taken over by the Magickal divisions. He sighed and let his head drop back for a moment. “I’ll have some people keep digging, see if they find more, but this gives us something to go on. We have to start somewhere.”

“Yeah.” But she looked as grim as he felt. “We need those New Orleans files. I want to go back over them, too. See if I missed anything now that we have this new data.”

All of the other cities had had five deaths, not four. According to the information they now possessed, New Orleans was the anomaly, not the rule.

“Shit. We need to look into Gregor’s history, see how many of these cities he’s been in, when, and if we can tie him to any of the victims.” He rubbed a hand down his face, his eyes burning from staring at a computer screen for so long. While he was glad to have more data to work with, he wasn’t happy that over two dozen people had died before he’d even come on the case. This bastard was careful, he was smart, and he was damn good at covering his tracks. And he’d been perfecting his technique for decades.

Just the kind of criminal who made Jack’s life hell.

Selina tapped her finger against the computer screen, her shoulder bumping against his. “His pattern is escalating.”

As if that told him anything. He shook his head, trying to see whatever it was she was seeing. “He always kills five, and the violence seems consistent with what we’ve seen so far.”

“No, I mean the amount of time between each city is shortening. Seven years, five years, four ... this last one was only a year ago.” She nodded, giving the screen a final tap. “He’s escalating.”

Great. More good news.

* * *

“Heads-up.” Jack cut a glance at Selina as they sat down in the break room to eat, guzzle some much-needed caffeine, and continue to pore over the new information they’d unearthed. If her stomach roiled, she told herself it was the coffee, but she knew it was a lie. Look how many more people had died because she’d failed. Look at what she hadn’t prevented. Guilt burned like acid in her veins, and she reached up to rub her thumb along the metal lines of her necklace. The talisman she’d worn for so long felt like an albatross around her neck, weighing her down.

At Jack’s words, Selina glanced around and saw a woman bearing down on them. “Should I run?”

“Nah, she’d catch you.” He flashed a grin that made her insides melt, which should not happen at her age. It probably wasn’t even healthy for her. He waved with a French fry. “Plus, she’s not someone you need to avoid, as far as I know. She’s new.”

“Well, hey there, darlin’.” She winked at Jack before offering Selina a hand to shake. “I’m Delta Dubois, and as Jack said, I’m new around here—I just transferred in from the Houston office.”

The woman’s accent was more bayou drawl than Texas twang, so Selina would bet she was originally from Louisiana. She was short and curvy. Her thick blond hair fell in waves down her back and her wide violet-blue eyes made her look like nothing so much as a sweet ingénue. Until you took in the delicate points to her fangs and the obstinate tilt to her jaw.

Classic southern belle, and Selina had learned a long time ago never to mess with a southern belle. They were scary women, and their men didn’t become southern gentlemen without learning a little respect—and fear—from their mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters, and wives. She’d seen one southern belle slit a werewolf’s throat and very politely explain that “he’d needed some killin’ ” and then “blessed his heart.”

Yeah. Selina didn’t mess with southern belles.

She shook the blond vampire’s hand. “Agent Dubois, welcome to Seattle. I’m Detective Selina Grayson. I’m on loan from the local PD for a case.”

“Things sure are busy around here. I’m pulling double duty right now.” Her grin said she was more than a little pleased by that. “With the extra twenty-something deaths you just found, Cavalli asked me to help y’all out with profiling your vampire. I’m a bit of a vamp expert, and they’re using that skill over on the Karsen case, too.”

“Thanks, any assistance is welcome.” They sure as hell hadn’t had a profiler the last time she’d taken a swing at this killer. “We do have a suspect, but we need to track him down. Have you ever heard of a vampire named Gregor?”

“Gregor Night.” Her face seemed to pale a bit. “Yes, I know him.”

“You know him better than I do.” Selina wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I’d never heard his last name before. Must be in the classified FBI file.”

The vampire’s smile was faint, and she edged toward the door. “Something like that. I’ll take a look at your victims, work up a profile, and see if it fits with Gregor’s usual M.O.”

“I’m looking forward to what you find.” Selina tilted her head at the retreating blonde. “It was good meeting you.”

“You, too.” She turned those violet eyes on Jack. “Can I borrow you for just a moment? Luca and Peyton want to have a little powwow about the other case, and your presence is requested.”

“Huh.” His eyebrows arched, but he rose to his feet, grabbed an extra fry on his way out, and popped it in his mouth. “Let’s see what the boss needs.”

Selina watched them walk away, and they were soon in a tight cluster with Cavalli and Peyton. Deep frowns formed on everyone’s faces, and they gestured while they talked. She stuffed down her worries about the case and focused on them.

The three men standing there brought their differences into sharp contrast. They were tall, muscular, good-looking, and had an air of leashed danger about them. Luca was the tallest, with a lean swimmer’s build, dark hair and eyes, and a suave demeanor. He attracted attention just by breathing. Peyton was handsome in an all-American kind of way. Brown hair, blue eyes. Nice to look at, but he could easily blend into a crowd if he needed to. She had a feeling he used that ability to his advantage. Jack fell somewhere in between the other two, with his dark hair and light eyes. He was attractive, but not in-your-face about it like Luca. He had a sprinkling of gray in his hair, just at the temples. She liked it. He had some years on him. No matter how much older she was than him, there was no mistaking that this was a man, not a boy with a badge like she’d seen with a lot of human cops.

She liked that, too.

She liked everything about him so far, which, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit was a serious problem. Now was not the time to fall into like with a man. There wasn’t a time when she could do that. She was out of minutes to spare, no matter how much Jack appealed to her. No matter how much he seemed to get her, without her having to draw him a map. Very unusual for a male of any species, especially a Normal.

She didn’t usually take Normals as lovers. At least not for the last century or so. Not because she had something against them—she didn’t. It was just ... once she’d been around a few hundred years, they’d all just seemed so young. Or maybe they just made her feel old.

Which made Jack unique. He didn’t seem young, and he didn’t make her feel old. Being around him made her feel more alive than almost anything other than her adrenaline rush of a job did. Touching him was like coming into contact with a live wire. Chemistry like that didn’t come around very often, she knew.

Why him and why now, though?

The question that had plagued her with their case now took a far more personal turn. It was as if Fate were mocking her, taunting her with what could never be. A man who made her feel alive, right when she was going to die. The cruelty of that made pain shoot through her, but she gritted her teeth. There was no getting around what was coming—she could feel the vast break, this huge difference in how her life was now versus how it was going to be. It was difficult to describe it, even to herself. Whatever she was now, whoever she was now, would no longer exist in the very near future.

Her precognition wasn’t as powerful as Merek’s—it was more what humans would call a gut instinct—but it was there nonetheless. Maybe if she reminded herself of that enough times, she’d figure out how to rid herself of this soft spot she seemed to be forming for a certain human agent.

She just needed to remember that she’d gone to bed with him for a distraction, and that was what he still was. An amusement to keep her from going crazy during this case, a source of endless orgasms that left her too limp and sated to recall even her own name.

That was it. A distraction. No more, no less.

With that stern inner lecture, she picked up her turkey sandwich and forced her mind back to their serial killer while she ate.

Today’s revelations had been an unpleasant shock. While she’d suspected enough to voice the question, five more cities with five more victims each was worse than she would have guessed. And knowing this murderer, she’d thought she’d braced herself for the worst.

What a time for a man to blow her expectations out of the water. If it was Gregor, she’d wring his neck with her bare hands. She’d reserve judgment for the moment because going into a case with a conclusion already set was a surefire way to overlook something important. But Gregor had a lot of questions to answer.

“Bastard,” she muttered.

“Sing it, sister.” Tess strode into the room, a paper cup from Starbucks clutched in her hand. She gave the espresso maker a look of pure loathing before she dug through the big refrigerator in one corner of the room and pulled out a lunch bag. She grinned at Selina. “Who’s a bastard, exactly?”

“Careful, Tess.” Selina arched an eyebrow at the werewolf. “That kind of chip on your shoulder will leave you bitter.”

“Yeah, so?” The redhead’s jaw jutted pugnaciously. “It’s my party and I’ll be bitter if I want to.”

“True enough.” Selina should keep her mouth shut, she knew that. Her advice was clearly unwelcome, not to mention uninvited. “But consider for a second who the bitterness hurts. It might drive him crazy right now, but he’ll move on eventually. And you’ll still be bitter. Is that what you want?”

She didn’t specify who “he” was. They both knew this was about Luca Cavalli. Saying his name might just piss the medical examiner off more, and Selina had found over the years that she liked to make nice with those kinds of people. It made cases go a lot smoother that way.

“Shut up.” Tess glowered at her.

Selina nodded. Yeah, she shouldn’t butt in anyway. And since she knew Tess was sexing it up with Peyton, he was probably in a better position to help her get past Luca than Selina was.

Time for a change in topic. “The full moon’s coming in a couple of days.”

Tess grunted, but Selina could see the small flash of a fang when she took a swig of her java.

Right. That worked well. Small talk had never been Selina’s strong suit. She preferred to cut to the chase. She cast about for a neutral topic. “Uh ... aren’t you doing that study for Chloe? To study the effects of the werewolf Change–supressing drug she developed?”

At least, that was what she thought the drug did. Vampirism and werewolfism were two different strains of the same Magickal disease, therianthropy, which was why they were the only two species that could create more Magickals without having a child. Both strains of the disease had horrible side effects, and while the vampires had come up with a serum to block the worst of their condition, the wolf packs hadn’t gotten their act together until Chloe Standish tackled the disease.

Chloe had once told Selina there was no way to cure lycanthropy, but mitigating the worst effects was possible, which meant no more full moon rampaging, trying to keep young wolves from going mad and biting humans, losing wolves who couldn’t control their magic and didn’t make it through the forced Change at full moon.

Blowing a lock of hair out of her face, Selina raised her eyebrows at Tess’s silence. “You and Alex are both working with Chloe on this, right? I saw Alex yesterday at the Mathison crime scene, and he looked good considering the full moon is right around the corner.”

“Yes, we’re part of the clinical trials.” Tess sat back in her chair. “They’re going well, too. Chloe’s been pretty happy with the preliminary results for the prototype she developed. It’s been working for Alex and me, anyway, though I don’t know about any of her other patients.”

So Chloe had really done it, then. After so many centuries of werewolves dying at full moon, the Standish witch had actually pulled it off. Selina’s debate about pack politics with Darren came to mind. She’d liked the man. To be honest, she’d liked both of Jack’s parental units. Her conversation with them told her they’d make far better pack leaders than those who ruled now. She hoped they would win that fight—she wished she’d be around to see it. The thought stabbed at her soul, and she pushed it away. There was no point in wishing. She met Tess’s gaze. “How long before it’s on the open market? Is it just like the serum vamps take to suppress the need to feed on blood?”

“Yes and no. It’ll take years for it to be available to all wolves. Drug trials need to go on for a while before they can get FDA approval. There’s a Magickal branch for that the same as everything else—the things I never knew as a human.” She pursed her lips. “But Chloe’s drug will definitely be on the FDA fast track because it fills an unmet medical need for a serious disease. They have guidelines and requirements for which drugs can be fast-tracked.”

“Huh.” Sounded like way more bureaucracy that Selina cared to deal with. She dealt with more than enough of it just working for the PD.

“How’s the case going?” the werewolf asked, clearly ready to talk about something besides her issues with Luca and her involvement in the lycanthropy drug trial.

Selina snorted. “We found out this guy has probably killed more people between New Orleans and here. So I wouldn’t say it’s going good, but I’d say that progress is being made.”

“With something like this, I guess that’s all you can hope for.” Hard sympathy shone in Tess’s golden eyes. As a coroner, she had to see the lethal results of some crimes. It wasn’t as pretty or fun or glamorous as the movies liked to pretend. It was dirty and ugly and numbing sometimes. Other times it was exhilarating.

Sighing, Selina propped an elbow on the table, her chin in her palm. “Yeah. It’s a damn shame, but yeah.”

“No other victims before New Orleans?”

She made a negative sound. “None that we found. Looks like that was ground zero for this guy.”

“Hmm. I did find something interesting when I compared the autopsies for our current victims. I’m not sure it’ll be useful, but ...” Tess shrugged. “Let’s wait until Jack gets back so you can both hear it.”

Selina straightened, every sense going on alert at the mention of a new clue. She wanted to demand answers now, but Jack was technically in charge of this investigation. She didn’t like it, but she’d have to wait. It had been a long time since she’d been a rookie and had to clear anything with anyone except her captain. She hadn’t liked it then, and she liked it even less now. It was all she could do not to growl in impatience. “Fine. Eat your lunch while we wait for him.”

Nodding, Tess drank her Starbucks coffee and chowed down on a roast beef sandwich. The meat looked pretty damn red and raw to Selina, but werewolves had weird cravings around the full moon, so she didn’t make a comment.

The lack of conversation made her mind circle around to the case again. Even without Tess’s little autopsy tease, Selina had plenty of new information to chew over, starting with the fact that New Orleans had been an abnormality. Only four victims there. What did that mean? Was there another victim that she hadn’t known about? After they’d found a Normal victim, Selina had gone back and checked for others. She’d been thorough to the point of obsessive, especially after her cousin became a victim. Her supervisors back then had clued in on the obsessiveness when they’d yanked the rug out from under her investigation.

She was pretty damn sure there hadn’t been a fifth victim. They’d need to have the NOLA PD crawl through their old records to check again, but there was no guarantee how fast that would happen. Still, Selina didn’t think there was anything to find. Which meant something made New Orleans different. Was it that it was his first time with that specific pattern? Had something gone wrong with one of his murders? Did someone survive and not report the crime? Why would he add one more the next time and stay with exactly that number for the other cities? Questions chased themselves in circles in her head until her temples throbbed.

She sensed Jack approach before he spoke, her claircognizance recognizing him and filling her mind with the knowledge.

“Hey.” Jack’s knuckles brushed the back of her shoulder, and she jerked away from the touch. That was verboten at work, and he knew it. A hot shudder ran through her, an awareness that was purely physical. Her nipples tightened and thrust against her bra as if they were sitting up to beg for Jack’s attention. She crossed her arms and nodded toward the werewolf.

“Tess has something for us.”

Peyton slipped into the room with his characteristic silence, but he perked up at the news. He settled into Jack’s seat next to Tess, his gaze locked on the female wolf. “Oh, yeah?”

“What do you have, Dr. Jones?” Jack hooked another chair with his foot and dragged it over to the table. He grabbed a French fry and winced when he bit into it. “Cold fries. Nasty.”

“Nuked fries are worse. The vending machine would be a better bet.” Selina gestured toward the big metal monster next to the fridge.

Tess offered half of her bloody sandwich to Peyton, and he accepted, his fingers brushing hers. The look they shared was intimate enough to make Selina pin her gaze to the table.

“This is good,” Peyton grunted, biting into the juicy meat. His eyes went wolfish for a moment, and Selina caught sight of fangs when she glanced at him. Full moon was coming soon, and Peyton would have to lock himself in with the local pack for the duration. He was starting to show signs of the strain of keeping himself in human form—not many signs, considering how controlled he was, but they were there. His body twitched occasionally, his fangs showing every now and then.

Tess touched the back of his hand. “I could talk to Chloe about getting you in the next round of the clinical trial.”

He snorted. “Dr. Standish isn’t a fan of me, and with good reason, considering I was undercover as one of the terrorists who tortured her.”

“You were doing your job,” Tess protested.

“I doubt the distinction would make much difference to her.”

“She wouldn’t do it for you; she’d do it for me.” The female wolf shrugged. “She’s my best friend. I’ll talk to her when she gets back from her honeymoon.”

“Whatever you want.” He turned his hand over and squeezed her fingers briefly.

Tess cleared her throat, set down her half of the sandwich, and licked her lips, refocusing on the other people in the room. “Okay, back to the autopsies. For the most part, there was nothing in any of the exams that I wouldn’t expect, considering the nature of the crime. The victims were healthy, no drugs in their systems. I didn’t see the Normal victim when she was ... fresh, so I know less about her. Neither Ms. Winston nor Mr. Mathison had ingested anything for at least a few hours before their deaths. There were no signs of recent sexual activity, which means they weren’t raped.”

“That’s the big news?” Selina couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. So far, none of the victims—male or female—had been sexually assaulted.

“No, all of that was what I’d expect. The weird thing was that there was no saliva in the wounds on their necks. I thought I’d find some. I hoped that it would give us some DNA to compare to if we ever got a suspect, but there was no saliva in, on, or around the wounds.”

“He cleaned up after himself.” Peyton arched his eyebrows.

She shook her head. “That would explain why there wasn’t saliva on or around the bite wounds, but there should have been some in the wounds. However, I did find traces of some kind of metal in the wounds. I’m looking into what kind of metal now, but I thought you’d like to know what I’d discovered so far.”

Jack frowned, splaying his hands on the table. “So, it’s possible he’s using something to cover his fangs. A mouth guard of some kind?”

“It’s possible.” She seesawed her hand through the air. “I’m not sure how else a vampire would keep saliva out of the wound. There’s a certain amount of transfer when they bite someone.” She sighed. “This means not only no DNA, but there’s no way to match the bite marks without the mouthpiece he’s using. Just a dental imprint won’t help me. He might be altering where his fangs would strike the flesh, the curve of the fangs. Damn it.”

Jack looked as if he wanted to beat his head against the table. “Which means we may not even be looking for a vampire. Just someone who wants us to think he’s a vampire.”

“It might explain why our guy can cast spells well enough to get through security shields. Vampires suck at casting.” Selina drummed her fingers against the table, thinking about what this new twist might mean for nailing any possible suspects. Like Gregor. Every new piece of information just seemed to leave them deeper in the dark. Fuck. Impotent rage roiled inside of her, a dark, icy thing that was beyond her control.

“I don’t know about that.” Delta appeared in the doorway, her gaze thoughtful. “Let me look into it, but draining victims completely has very specific symbolic meaning to vampires. And none of your victims are vampires, which could mean he’s protecting his own. The Conclave deals very harshly with those who turn on their own kind. All of this indicates to me that your guy is deeply steeped in vampire culture, ethics, prejudices, and taboos.” She shrugged. “Let me put together my profile, and I’ll be able to give you more.”

“Thanks, Delta. And thank you, Tess.” Selina blew out a frustrated breath. Two steps forward, three steps back. They were just chasing their tails.

9

Jack had been staring at the computer for hours, and his eyes burned. The words were starting to blur, he’d been looking at them so long. The pieces were there, he just needed to put them together. Every answer they found seemed to lead to more questions rather than to a conclusion with a solid profile and a list of possible suspects.

The number of victim photographs now stretched off his whiteboard and were taped on the walls in his office. He swiveled his chair to look at them again. Nothing about them appeared the same. They had everything from a preteen witch with a human stepmother to a Normal retiree who’d been married to a Fae for sixty years. They lived in different cities and countries, had none of the same acquaintances, habits, or characteristics. The retiree had been murdered before the witch was even born. They’d never met, their families didn’t know each other, and comparing the other victims made for similar lacks of similarity. Jack wouldn’t be surprised if their killer had chosen them for that very reason. The only thing they had in common was the interrelation between Magickals and Normals. They could also solidly place Gregor Night in different places during the time period where the killer needed to have been operating for at least two of the cities. It didn’t totally rule him out, but it put a kink in the theory that the redheaded vampire was their murderer. Jack clenched his fists and resisted the urge to put his fist through the wall. It felt like they were getting nowhere.

“Fuck.”

“Well, hello to you, too.” Selina stepped into his office and sank into her usual chair. Her shoulders bowed, and she looked as spent as he felt.

He wanted to reach for her, but knew she wouldn’t allow it. Her separation between work and her personal life meant even a casual touch was taken the wrong way. Hell, he could clap Peyton on the shoulder with less of a problem. Jack’s fists clenched, but he forced himself to shake them loose. It was the exhaustion weighing him down. Friends with benefits, remember? He was getting exactly what he wanted, so he should be more than satisfied with that. He shrugged the tension out of his shoulders.

“Come on.” Selina grabbed her bag and slung it across her torso, sliding to her feet again. “You’re done for the night. I can see it on your face.”

“I think—”

She sighed. “Look, I’m as much a workaholic as the rest of them, so when I say you’re done, I’m not trying to baby you. We need to be at full capacity for this case. Falling on your face in exhaustion won’t help anyone. Go home.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to come with him, but he resisted. His door was standing open for anyone to overhear them. Their affair was a secret, and suddenly that chafed a lot more than it should. He knew all of her reasons, he even agreed with most of them, but right now, he didn’t give a damn about any of that. He was tired of worrying about whether people would infer that his actions toward her meant anything. He was tired of worrying if she would assume people were assuming. The reaction was irrational, so he tamped down on it. Shooting from his chair, he snatched up his jacket and swept out the door. “Lock up behind you.”

She followed him, and he heard his door whoosh closed and lock, courtesy of her magic, no doubt. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, just have a lot on my mind. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but then she closed it. Yeah, that gag order of hers put the kibosh on a lot of things, didn’t it? Instead of saying anything, he turned for the elevator.

When he was in his car and driving toward home, he realized he didn’t want to crawl into bed alone. A handful of nights with Selina were enough to addict him to having the feel of her wrapped around him while they slept. “Crap.”

He sighed and made a left turn toward one of his favorite restaurants. Not one his cousins owned. This one was a hole in the wall, mom and pop joint with good service and great food. It was also open late, which meant he didn’t have to worry about when he dragged himself away from work. They’d be open.

The familiar neon sign that blazed the name TRUDY’S looked fuzzy in the Seattle fog, and he had to search to find a parking space out front. This place was always packed. It didn’t matter what time of day he showed up. The locals loved this diner.

A petite waitress looked up when he walked in. A grin spread across her face. “Hey, Jack. Sit anywhere that’s free. I’ll bring you some coffee.”

He headed for the only empty booth in the room. “Thanks, Sandy.”

Trudy’s had the classic décor of a 1950s diner, and for all he knew, this was the authentic design. It definitely had the feel of having been in business that long. He sighed and sank into the comfortable hubbub of the place. People talked and laughed, a couple of old curmudgeons who seemed to have taken up permanent residence at the counter were hunched over cups of coffee. Those two guys were here every time he’d been in. Which was a lot since he’d moved to Seattle.

“Laramie.” The soft sound of Selina’s voice had him twisting around in his booth to look at her. The tiredness had finally gotten to him. He was hallucinating. No way was she here.

But she was. The thick fog outside had left droplets of water in her hair, which sparkled in the light. He blinked up at her, then leaned back and gave her a lazy grin. “Stalking me, Detective Grayson? I thought unless my mother waylaid you, or we were grabbing takeout, you were too scared to be seen with me in public outside of work.”

“No, I’m not scared. You know my reasons for keeping our affair quiet, so don’t play the injured party now. And I damn well didn’t stalk you.” She huffed and slid into the booth opposite him, dropping her bag on the seat. “I didn’t even tail you here.”

Sandy came bustling up, two steaming cups in her hands, which she plopped on the table in front of them. “Be back to take your orders in a second.”

When she was gone, Jack turned back to Selina. “Oh, yeah? You just happened to walk into my favorite diner in the city only a few minutes after I did?”

She arched her eyebrows and glanced around. “This is your favorite diner?”

“Yep. Aside from my cousins’ places, of course. I have to say that out of family loyalty.” He propped his elbows on the table. “But this place has the best pot roast on the planet.”

A faint smile creased her lips. “Won’t your mother or grandmother be offended by that statement?”

“Mom’s not much of a cook. She likes the pot roast here, too.” He shrugged and added sugar to his coffee. “Both my grandmothers died before I was born. My paternal grandfather passed about five years ago. So, there’s just Grandpa Jack left.”

“Your namesake, I take it?”

“Yep.” He rubbed a hand over his hair. “What about your grandparents? What were they like?”

She ran a finger around the rim of her coffee mug. “Well, I was born in the Renaissance, so I’m sure they were people who dealt with bad hygiene and no indoor plumbing.”

“You think that’s what they were like, or you know?”

Her gaze was wary when she looked up at him. “What does that mean?”

His impatience with the status quo of their relationship made her response grate on his nerves. “You throw these little factoids out to distract people—I was a nurse in World War II, I was an artist, I lived in France and New Orleans, I was born in the Renaissance. It’s all an illusion that you’re open about yourself. Tell me something real, something that you wouldn’t tell some Magickal you met at a bus stop.”

Her mouth worked for a moment. “I never knew any of my grandparents.”

“No? How old were you when they passed?”

“My mother and her sister were orphaned pretty young, and I never knew who my father was, so ... I also never knew anything about his family. Including his parents.” Her brow furrowed as if she regretted caving to the pressure to answer more personal questions.

Well, that was just too damn bad, wasn’t it? “Were your mom and aunt close?”

“No.” She shook her head and stared down at her coffee. “My mom died before I came of age, but my aunt had disowned her before I was born. No one ever said why, but it was implied that it was because my mother hooked up with a married man and got pregnant.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” She tapped her fingers against the table. “I don’t really talk about—”

“Do you have any other family?” He cut her off without a qualm. As though he’d let her bail out on the conversation now. He had a serious fascination about her, and nothing was going to quench that except more information. The tenacity made him good at his work, but it was a character trait he didn’t bother to repress in his personal life either. At the moment, Selina crossed over into both territories.

“No family.” Her jaw worked for a moment. “My aunt was the last to go, and she despised me. She had to take me in—the family bastard—when Mother died, and she liked to point out how useless an extra, unwed female was. Though she wasn’t above making me her daughter’s nanny until I moved out.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I guess. They’re all gone now.”

That hit him hard. He knew what it was like to lose a parent and a wife. That was difficult enough to deal with, and they weren’t even the last of his family. He still had people to call his own. It occurred to him that while he’d been lonely in his life, he had no idea what it was like to be totally ... alone. Without any connections to anyone. Sympathy squeezed his chest, and he wanted to pull her into his arms and promise her she wasn’t alone anymore.

The urge startled him. He hadn’t felt that kind of desire to comfort and protect since ... his wife. He slammed the door on that thought, rejecting it, and instead focused on the woman before him. A woman who was nothing if not the polar opposite of the one he’d married.

“Shit.” He reached over and covered Selina’s hands with his. They weren’t at work, so she could just deal with it. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“Thanks. Me too.” She squeezed his fingers and then withdrew. As she always did. Frustration crawled through him, and he tamped down on that, too. So many reactions when it came to Selina. Overreactions, too. It wasn’t just the sex that was intense—it was everything.

She cleared her throat and grabbed a laminated menu from the rack on their table. “Anyway. You say the pot roast is good?”

“The best.”

“Okay, then. I’ll try that.” She flipped the menu over and ran her fingertip over the dessert section.

“Got a sweet tooth, Grayson?”

She glanced up and met his gaze, and the look on her face sent fire shooting straight to his loins. The moment stretched, grew hotter. His body tightened, and despite any earlier irritation, inevitable lust punched through him. It was all he could do not to drag her out of the restaurant and have her in his car. He wasn’t even sure he could wait until they got home. His cock grew hard, and his hands clenched on the tabletop as he fought the need to touch her. She did nothing to help him as the corners of her mouth curled up in a grin that said she knew exactly what he was thinking, which meant her thoughts had gone along the same lines. Her breathing sped, lifting her breasts into view. Her nipples were tight, and he wanted to suck them, bite them until she begged him for more. Her eyes gleamed, and her fingers continued to stroke over the menu in front of her. He wanted those hands stroking him.

Staring at his lips, she licked hers. “I like it sweet sometimes, yes.”

He opened his mouth to make a purely sexual reply when Sandy came back to take their orders. Food was the last thing on his mind right now, and he was more than ready to leave it at the coffee, but Selina smiled at the waitress. “We’ll both have the pot roast dinner.”

“Soup, salad, or fries with that?”

“Salad for me, with Italian dressing.” Selina gave him an assessing look. “I’m betting fries for him.”

“Jack always has the fries.” Sandy didn’t even glance up as she scribbled on her order pad. “He likes to dip them in the gravy.” She winked at him. “I’ll be by to top off your coffee in a few.”

“Thanks, Sandy.” He reeled in his lust. Later. He’d have Selina under him, moaning and screaming his name later. At the moment, he needed to think of something else. “So, how did you find me if you weren’t stalking or tailing?”

“I don’t know.” She took a swig of her coffee. “I was just driving around. It helps me think sometimes.”

“You were just driving around and randomly said, hey, that place looks tasty.” He couldn’t keep the disbelief from his voice. “You didn’t see my car outside, maybe?”

“No, I didn’t.” Another sip of the coffee and she seemed to have finished the cup. Shrugging, she stared into the bottom of the empty mug. “I had a feeling this place would have something good inside. I get feelings sometimes. I just know things.”

It warmed him that deep down, she considered him “something good.” He decided not to point it out to her. If she hadn’t noticed, it said a lot. If she had noticed, she wouldn’t be pleased he rubbed her nose in it. Nope, better to let it ride.

“So, you have claircognizance?” He pitched his voice low enough that she had to lean toward him to listen.

Only a werewolf or vampire would be able to overhear them, and if one of them were in here, it wouldn’t really matter if they overheard magic talk, since they already knew the big secret.

“Yeah. I was driving around and saw this place and had a good feeling about stopping in for dinner. That’s all. I wasn’t looking for you. I would have just called your cell if I wanted to know where you were.” The bite to her tone almost made him laugh. Almost. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Besides, if I were looking for you, I’d have done better just casting a seeking spell. My precognition is pretty weak. Everyone has their strengths, and that’s never been one of mine. Seeing how bad it can get for Merek, I’m okay with that.”

“Yeah.” He’d been working with Merek for less than a year and he could see how a strong vision affected the man. Considering the big warlock looked like he chewed nails for breakfast, anything that left him sweaty and shaking was enough to make Jack glad it wasn’t him dealing with it. “There always seems to be drawbacks to these gifts you guys have.”

“Definitely.”

Sandy came back with dinner and more coffee. The next half hour passed in pleasant silence, neither of them willing or able to talk about their case or their relationship, but there wasn’t a lot of tension either. It was nice, and Jack found himself unwinding under the influence of good food and undemanding company. Most of the women he dated tended to chatter about themselves and their opinions, but Selina seemed to be comfortable with quiet. He thought she might be a bit too used to being alone, but he liked that she didn’t natter on.

When they finished and sat back with replete sighs, Jack reached for his wallet. Selina shook her head. “You paid for lunch earlier. My turn.”

“Afraid I might see it as dating if I keep paying?” He said it to tease her, but her brows snapped together in a dark scowl.

“We’re not dating, we’re having an affair,” she retorted, her voice sharp. Her hand sliced through the air, and her gaze drilled into him. “Look, I ... I can’t get involved with anyone right now. Not really. I’m not in a good place in my life for that.”

Now that just pissed him off. Really? That was the line she was going with? He hated to break it to her because he was fighting it hard himself, but they were already involved on a certain level, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Instead of arguing with her, he decided to keep her on the defensive. “What’s wrong with the place in your life right now?”

“Because I—” She broke off, shook her head. “My reasons are only important to me. Just know I mean it, and this isn’t some way to jerk you around, lead you on, or play the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ game. I hate women who pull that bullshit.”

“Me too.” He hated even more that she was keeping secrets from him, hated that she offered so much and so little of herself at the same time. But he was glad she was honest with him. Damn. He hated being fair. “I appreciate that you’re not that type.”

“Good.” She nodded.

“Are you trying to break off the affair?” He didn’t want to ask it, but he wanted to know what level of resistance he was dealing with now. Selina Grayson was a moving target.

She took in a breath. “I’m still in if you are.”

“I’m all in, Grayson.” He gave her a lecherous grin to take any deeper meaning out of the words.

A flush rose to her cheeks, desire reflecting in her gaze. “I like it when you’re all in. I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”

His gaze dropped to her lips, then moved back up to her eyes. “I’m going home now. Care to join me?”

“I’d rather you joined me. Leaving Grim alone too often isn’t a good idea.” She grimaced as she tossed enough cash on the table to cover their meal and a tip for Sandy. “He gets creative when he’s bored.”

Jack tried to imagine what her ferocious familiar would do when pissed off about being left to his own devices. None of the options were pretty. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

She laughed. “You don’t. Trust me.”

“I’ll follow you home then.” He slid from the booth and held out a hand to help her stand. When she took it and rose to her feet, slinging her bag over one shoulder, he didn’t relinquish his grip. “I’ll walk you to your car. Where are you parked?”

“Around back.”

She tugged at her hand, but he held on tight enough that she’d have to use magic or get into a wrestling match with him to get free. “Okay, then.”

Twisting her fingers against his hold, she kept stride with him as they exited the restaurant and went around to the rear of the building. “You know, I’m not really the hand-holding type.”

He stopped dead and turned to stare at her. “What’s the problem, Selina? I like you, you like me. We’re not at work, no one’s watching us, and even if they were, no one gives a shit what we’re doing. So just hold my damn hand.”

“It implies a certain intimacy,” she blurted out, then looked as if she wanted to smack herself for the asinine comment.

Arching an eyebrow, he moved in close, crowding her up against the side of the restaurant, into the deep shadows that lent them the illusion of privacy. He lowered his head until he could breathe in the scent of her, until he could brush his lips over her sensitive little ear. “We have been intimate. Repeatedly. And we will be intimate again. Repeatedly. Tonight, if I have anything to say about it.”

He turned his head and feathered kisses over her jaw and down to the point of her chin. She sighed, arching her soft body into his harder angles, and the semi he’d been fighting throughout dinner turned into a full-blown erection.

Catching her mouth with his, he thrust his tongue between her lips, the way he wanted to thrust his cock into her hot pussy. That would have to wait, but right now, he wanted to kiss her until she was as insane as he was, until she was fighting herself as hard as he was fighting himself. This thing with them was crazy, and he couldn’t seem to get enough.

She twined her tongue with his, fighting him for control of the kiss. He bit her tongue and released her hand to run his palms down her sides, around to cup her ass, and down between her thighs to stroke her from behind. Whimpering into his mouth, she rocked her pelvis upward to cradle his cock through their pants. Fire fisted in his belly, burning like the kick of good whiskey. She was just as intoxicating.

With a groan, he moved his hand around to jerk at the fastenings on her pants. He wanted to touch her, slide his fingers into the hot, wet center of her and feel those sleek inner muscles tighten. The zipper gave way, and he slipped into her slacks. The silk and lace of her panties teased him, but he dipped under the edge and slid his hand down to cup her mound. Her pussy was slick with juices, and he drew his fingers up and down her slit, tweaking her hard clit.

When he plunged into her sex, she clutched at his shoulders, trying to push him away or pull him closer, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He drove his tongue into her mouth with the same rhythm he set between her thighs. Small cries poured out of her throat, and he loved the sound of them, loved that he could make a woman as controlled and contained as she usually was go mad for him in a parking lot. The thought made his cock stiffer, and his fly chafed against his rigid flesh.

He flicked her clit with one hand and slid his other hand around to dip into her from behind. The fabric of her pants grew taut, leaving him just enough room to move. He couldn’t resist teasing her anus as he pressed in to stroke her wet pussy lips. Her body jolted, a shudder running through her.

Oh, really? There was no way he could resist a reaction like that. He chuckled into her mouth and sucked her bottom lip, biting down on the soft flesh while his fingers returned to her ass to swirl around that tight pucker. Her hips tilted to give him better access to her backside. Nice. He pushed one fingertip into her tight anus and felt her squirm against him. It turned him on even more.

Adding a second and third finger to her ass made her sob into his mouth.

The heat coming from her skin was unnatural, boiling hot. Magic. Releasing her lips, he growled, “No pleasure spells. We’re in public.”

As if to emphasize his point, a car started behind him. She opened her mouth to respond, but he kissed her again, ruthlessly squelching anything she might have said. They’d come too far to stop now. All anyone would see in the dark was a man’s back. He thrust his fingers into her, over and over again as she twisted in his embrace, her breath rushing from her lungs, her nails digging into his shoulders, her hips frantically moving to meet his hand. He knew she was close, and he wanted her to go over that edge. Still finger-fucking her ass, he rubbed his other hand over her clit, rough and fast until she screamed into his mouth.

She came for him, moaning, her body arched and shuddering. A tingle of heat roared through him, and he knew it was an unconscious wave of magic she sent out. He didn’t see any light, so he doubted anyone would notice.

A sigh slipped from her, and she sagged against him. “Okay, fine. You can hold my hand.”

That surprised a chuckle from him, though the sound was rusty. “Good.”

Stretching, she sighed again, the sound glutted with satisfaction. It wasn’t a feeling he could relate to at the moment. Every little movement she made drove him wilder.

Anticipation and frustration tangled in his chest. Much more and he was going to come in his pants. He hadn’t even done that as a horny teenager, and the thought that she could bring him to the brink was both embarrassing and arousing.

Turning his head, he kissed those lush lips of hers. Again. More. She licked her way into his mouth, a small moan bubbling out of her. The sound made him burn hotter, and he pressed her harder against the wall. Her slender hands roved over his back, and she began to writhe again. It was too much. He’d strip her and fuck her right there if he didn’t stop. Right now. He jerked back, his chest heaving with each rasping breath. “I’ll see you at your place.”

“Yes.” Her voice was just as tight with lust and unspent need as his was. She straightened her clothes and bent to pick up her fallen bag. “Hurry.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Honey, I’m going to ride your bumper the whole way there. And then I’m going to ride your ass hard when we get in your house.”

Her breathing shallowed out to nothingness and she swallowed. “My ass, huh?”

“What, you think I didn’t notice that a little fingering there set you off like a firework? I want to see what happens when my cock is stretching your ass. I bet I can make you scream and beg for more.”

She didn’t argue with that, just gave him a look that was scorching enough to set the building on fire. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Damn.” Any blood that had been left in his brain rushed further south. He shook his head. “You are the sexiest woman I have ever known.”

“Thank you.” She turned toward her car. “I’ll see you at my place.”

Yeah, right. He grabbed her hand and twined their fingers together, walking her to her vehicle as he’d promised when they left the restaurant. He kissed her hard and fast, backing off before his lust got the better of him. “Meet you there, sweetheart.”

Jack barely let her get in the door before he was on her. Not that Selina minded. Hell, no. After that show in the parking lot, her body was primed and ready for more. She wanted him to finish what he’d started.

His tongue was in her mouth, his hands jerking at her clothes as hers did the same with his. The crisp feel of his chest hair under her palms made her moan. There was something about the visceral experience of touching a muscular man that was just too exciting for words. Impatient, she used magic on his garments so she could wrap her hands around his thick cock.

The loud sound of fabric ripping rent the air as Jack took her shirt apart in his attempt to get it off of her. The next thing she knew, Grim was there, barking loudly, shoving himself between them to force Jack away from her. Tripping backward, Jack landed on his ass, and Grim had his paws planted on the man’s chest to pin him to floor in seconds. Her familiar’s teeth bared and he growled, snapping his jaws in Jack’s face.

Smart enough not to fight or struggle, he lay still underneath the dog’s weight. His voice was level, contained. “Would you mind calling him off?”

“I can try, but he pretty much does what he wants. You might be sleeping on the floor tonight.” She was only half-kidding, too. The relationship between a familiar and their human was always complicated. Familiars had magic of their own, and attitudes to match usually. Grim used his to be the most overprotective male she’d ever had to deal with. If he’d been a human she was dating, she’d have dumped him a long time ago. As it was, she loved the damn mutt too much to be parted from him by anything other than death, and even then she’d made sure he’d be a spoiled canine for the rest of his life no matter what happened to her.

She sighed and reached out to tug on the thick leather collar around Grim’s neck. “Come on, now. I know seeing someone tearing at a girl’s clothes is freaky, but I was a willing participant.” The dog just growled at that and didn’t budge. “You know I would have blasted him with a spell otherwise, right? I’m not the type to just take it without fighting back, am I?”

Snorting, the dog looked at her from the corner of his piercing blue eye.

“Look, Grim. He’s a friend. He wouldn’t hurt me. Or you. You’ve seen him the last week. He’s a good man. Leave him alone.” She gave his collar a more insistent pull, hoping it didn’t just piss him off. “Come on, Grim, you’re killing my sex life. I never go all cock blocker on you, and I know you’ve been making time with that Dalmatian down the street.”

The sound her familiar made in the back of his throat could almost be a laugh. His head swung around to look at her full-on and he rolled his eyes dramatically before he stepped off of Jack’s chest and flopped over at her feet. Chuckling, she shook her head and bent down to pet him. “Attention whore. You act all big and bad, and then go all softy on me when you want petting.”

She rubbed his furry belly and he sighed, wriggling on the floor to get closer to her hand. She glanced up at Jack. “Well, since we stopped, I should feed him.”

“Right, reward the dog breath for being a cock blocker.” He sat up and drew one knee to his chest, draping a muscular forearm over his bent leg. “That’ll really show him who’s boss.”

“He knows who’s boss.” She patted the dog’s head while he made that odd laughing noise again.

Jack chuckled, the humor of the situation clearly getting to him. “And it isn’t you. You act all big and bad, and then go all softy when your puppy wants petting.”

“Ha. True enough, but I understand that’s kind of how being owned by a familiar goes. I’ve heard cats are worse than dogs.” She had no idea if that redeemed her from anything, but it didn’t hurt to say it. Grim rolled to his feet and gave a little yip at the mention of cats.

“Go feed him before he starts eating the neighborhood kittens.” Jack snorted and shook his head, while Grim made an incredulous noise at the notion of munching on kittens. The dog moved closer to Jack until they were eye-to-eye. Each male gave the other a tolerant stare. “Look, dog. It’s good that you’re protective. I get that, I respect it. But before you take a chunk out of my ass, try to remember I would never do anything to hurt Selina. I would never try to force her to do anything against her will. I certainly have never had an unwilling woman. Takes all the fun out of it that way.”

Grim rumbled another of his strange doggy sounds, and Selina didn’t know how to interpret that one. The familiar moved closer and nudged the arm Jack had draped across his knee. When the man didn’t move, Grim nudged harder.

Jack sighed and reached out to scratch behind one of Grim’s ears. “You’re annoying, mutt.” But the words came out with grudging affection, and Selina’s heart tripped at the sweet picture before her.

She folded her arms over her chest and tried to ignore the warm fuzzies that were flooding her. It didn’t matter that Jack was a good man, and that he could overlook her familiar’s pain-in-the-backside nature. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to be around long enough for it to mean anything. Not for the first time this week, that thought made her ache deep inside. What was wrong with her? She’d known this was coming. She’d accepted it months ago. Nothing had changed. Nothing would.

Standing, Jack turned toward the kitchen. “Come on. I have a feeling if he doesn’t get fed, I don’t get laid. And I really want to get laid. I still have plans for you, sweetheart.”

Her heart tripped again, but for very different reasons. Blood rushed through her veins as her pulse sped. She was totally on board with the plans he had for her. And her ass. The thought made her nipples peak tight and a flush race up her cheeks. Gods, she was blushing. It wasn’t like her at all. But, damn. She’d also never been one to go for exhibitionism. Jack had gotten her fired up enough for her to ignore that little fact.

And she wanted more.

At the moment, she was shrugging out of her ruined shirt, kicking off her shoes and unfastened pants, and following Jack’s deliciously naked ass into the kitchen. “He can feed himself if he wants to. He has enough magic to make it happen—he just likes to make me do it for him.”

“Hmm ... I’d still fear for the neighborhood kittens.” He paused in the doorway to look back at her.

“Aww, it’s not that bad. He only tackled you. He didn’t actually bite.” She made sure to brush her body against Jack’s when she passed him to get to her familiar’s kibble. His hand swatted her backside, and she laughed, jolting forward. The slight sting just made her heart pound harder.

Opening the correct cabinet, she pulled out the plastic bin with Grim’s food and scooped some into his bowl. Then she fetched his water dish and refilled it in the sink. Jack settled against the counter next to her and slid the tip of his finger along the edge of her panties at her hip, humming low in his throat. “Nice.”

She grinned, glancing down at the brilliant turquoise silk bra and panties she wore. “I have a fondness for nice underwear.”

The look in his eyes was more than a little appreciative. “You have to tell me where this obsession came from.”

“History.”

One dark brow winged up. “Excuse me?”

“Do you know how crappy women’s underwear has been for the last four hundred years?” She pursed her lips. “Don’t even get me started on bustles ... or whalebone corsets. The man who invented them should be tarred and feathered, boiled in oil, and then shot.”

His eyes lit with mirth. “Wow, you really want to go old-school Salem Witch Trial, don’t you?”

Making a face at him, she shook her head. “If I were going witch trial, I’d have drowned him, too. Which isn’t a bad suggestion.”

“Right, so sexy lingerie does not include corsets. Got it.”

She laughed. “Let’s just say that the moment more comfortable undergarments came into fashion—hell, the moment more comfortable clothes came into fashion—I was all over them. And that they now come in all kinds of colors and materials is something I like to take advantage of.”

“I am so very glad that you do. I have a definite fondness for your underwear, too. But right now, I’d rather have it off of you.” He took the water bowl from her hand and set it on the floor beside Grim, who was already wolfing down his dog food.

Then Jack dragged her into her bedroom and put actions to words, stripping her out of her silk and lace in under a minute. He tossed her underclothes over his shoulder, and the strap of her bra caught on the bedpost and swung in a wild circle. She had no idea where her panties went, and she didn’t much care when his mouth settled on her breast, sucking hard on her nipple.

Spearing her fingers into his hair, she held him closer. His tongue circled her areola, bit down on the tight crest. The line between pain and pleasure blurred, and she arched into him. He cupped her ass, his hands prying apart her buttocks so he could slip his thumb in to tease her anus. She shuddered, squirmed, her excitement spiking. Sweat gathered at her temples and between her breasts, her breath rushing in little gasps as she thought about his thick cock sliding into her ass.

He let her nipple pop free of his mouth. “Do you have lube?”

“Yes.” She didn’t remember the last time she’d used it for anything other than self-entertainment with her dildo, but that was beside the point. There was lube available and they were going to put it to good use. “It’s in my dresser.”

She flung a hand out to point, realizing a moment too late that she’d be giving him free rein on her goodie drawer. A couple of vibrators, dildos, lube, some silk ties, and maybe even a flogger and a set of nipple clamps she hadn’t used in forever. After a few centuries of sex, she’d tried just about everything at least once, if only to keep things interesting. Somehow she doubted Jack would be shocked. A grin quirked her lips. He might even be inspired.

Rolling to his feet, he moved toward the dresser and opened the top drawer. He rummaged through the contents before he paused, his body stiffening. “Well, now.”

He turned around, the lube held in one hand, while the other had the nipple clamps dangling from the slender chain that joined them.

“Find something interesting?” She tried to sound innocent and failed miserably.

“As if I could resist these.” He set the clamps to dancing midair. His dick was a hard arc against his lower belly, a bead of precum slipping down the long shaft.

The sight made her thighs clench. That cock would be pushing into her ass. Very soon. She arched her eyebrows. “Just remember that turnabout is fair play.”

A visible shudder ran through him, lust flushing his face. His pupils dilated until only the slimmest rim of blue remained. “I look forward to it.”

Gods, the anticipation was going to kill her. Juices slicked the folds of her pussy, her clit throbbing. She all but writhed on the sheets as he walked toward her. Cupping her breasts, she plumped them up, teasing them with her thumbs. “I want you.”

“I love how you let loose during sex. You should do it more often, other times.” He bent forward and kissed her before she could reply.

His tongue thrust into her mouth, and she reached up to try to pull him down onto the mattress with her. He resisted, and a shocked cry jerked from her when she felt the clamps tighten like vises around her nipples. She ripped her mouth away from his. “Jack!”

Chuckling, he sat beside her hip, leaning back to admire his handiwork. He tugged on the chain that connected her breasts, and she arched in reflex, her hips twisting. He licked his lips, his nostrils flaring. He opened one of the clamps, and an extra rush of pleasured pain burst through her. He closed it on her nipple once more, and she couldn’t help a whimper. Somehow, it hurt even more when he put it back on her ... and it turned her on even more, too.

“I want you facedown, with your ass in the air.” The words were guttural, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. He reached out to pluck up the lube from where he’d dropped it on the mattress beside her.

Moisture gushed in her sex at his words. She rolled to do as he wanted, the clamps pulling at her nipples, the chain between them stretching taut as she moved. A shiver went through her, her heart pounding and beads of sweat beginning to dot her forehead. When she was on her hands and knees, she glanced over her shoulder to watch what he was doing.

The top of the lube opened with a creaking pop, and another shiver passed through her, anticipation ratcheting higher inside her by the second. One of his hands slipped underneath her to tease her nipples, opening and closing the clamps, twisting them until tingles ran in waves over her skin. Her sex clenched hard, and she bit her lower lip. She wanted to demand that he stop tormenting her, but she never wanted him to stop. He tangled her up inside in ways that she didn’t understand, ways that she knew were dangerous to her well-being, and still she couldn’t make herself call this off.

Her hips undulated, subtle movements she couldn’t control. Sexual magic whipped inside of her, and she felt it begin to bathe her skin in golden light. The spell that wove their passion together was as natural as breathing now, and she knew how he enjoyed it. She wanted him to know how much she craved him, this. She whispered, “Jack.”

Kissing her thigh, he nipped the sensitive flesh and made her jolt. She felt him shift so that he was behind her, and the muscles in her arms shook. Dropping lower, she pressed her face to the mattress, her hips arched in offering.

Cool lube drizzled over her heated flesh, slipping between her buttocks. A shudder went through her. “More.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get more. I have to make up for not getting to come at Trudy’s. Your ass is mine tonight.” One of his fingers used the lubricant to ease into her anus, and the sensation made her moan.

She loved having her ass fucked, always had. Her hands fisted in the sheets when he added a second, and then a third finger to her anus, stretching her for his cock. “Hurry.”

“No.” He smacked her backside with his free hand, and a burst of hot magic shot out of her. He groaned, his breathing a heavy rasp behind her. He added more lube to her ass, pressing her rear passage wider.

“I want you inside me, Jack. Fuck me hard.” She closed her eyes, rocking herself back into his hand.

“Jesus Christ.” His fingers left her, and she bit back a triumphant smile. The blunt head of his cock probed at her opening, and she sucked in a shuddery breath, excitement exploding deep inside her.

Her teeth clenched together as he slid slowly into her ass, his cock stretching her beyond what his fingers had done. A high keen pierced the air, and she realized it had come from her throat.

Jack stilled when he was hilted inside her, his palms brushing over her back. “You’re so tight.”

“Yes.”

“Am I hurting you?”

Yes. “Don’t stop.”

She arched her ass higher, taking him still deeper. A harsh groan ripped out of them both. The white-hot pleasure knifed through her, sizzling her nerves. Her mind went blank, not a single spell occurring to her. All she could do was experience.

Nudging his cock back and forth, he stimulated her without thrusting. It was maddening and enticing at the same time. She rolled her hips under him, unable to stop herself. The small movement made a moan spill out of her. Gods, it felt so fucking good, she didn’t know how she’d stand it.

He slowly withdrew, the movements sending gooseflesh skittering over her limbs. Her hands fisted in the sheets and she held on for dear life. “More, Jack. More.”

“I’ll give you more, honey.” He pushed into her anus again, and the stretch was just as exquisite, more pleasure than pain now. He thrust into her again and again, picking up speed and force. Each time, it rubbed her clamped nipples against the bed, adding to the already overwhelming sensations that swamped her system. His hard belly slapped against her ass with each plunge, the carnal sound shocking in the quiet room. Their breathing rushed in heavy pants, the bedsprings squeaked under them, the headboard thudding against the wall.

The only magic between them was the reciprocal pleasure spell she’d initiated when they started. It didn’t seem to matter. With Jack it was good with or without the magic. The way he craved her sluiced pure fire through her, and her own desires fed his in an endless loop that made her sex clench on emptiness, that drove her right to the very edge of climax. She slid one hand down her belly to tease her clit in time with his swift plunges into her anus.

“I can feel how much you like my cock in you, and how much you like playing with your clit while I fuck you. I love this spell of yours.” He’d said he loved several things about her tonight, and a pang struck her every time he did, a longing she refused to recognize.

She swallowed. “Me too.”

“Good.” He ran his palms in circles over her back, her buttocks, then drew one back to slap the fleshy part of her upper thigh.

She squealed, jerking forward. His hands closed over her hips and hauled her back into his thrusts. He sank deep into her ass and rotated his pelvis, setting her off like a bursting rocket. Her inner muscles clenched in an enormous rush that sent her spinning. He continued thrusting, milking her orgasm for all it was worth, groaning each time another wave of climax hit her. Moving her fingers down, she shoved them into her pussy, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit.

Jack slammed deep into her ass, deeper than he’d ever been before. “Come for me again, Selina. Give me everything.”

She shouldn’t, she couldn’t. She didn’t have everything left to give to anyone. It didn’t matter, because she was screaming for him, her body turning inside out with the pleasure streaking through her. She came so hard, her skin flushed, tingles breaking out over every inch of her flesh.

One, two, three more thrusts and he emptied himself inside of her, filling her with hot fluids. His fingers dug into her hips while he held her in place, and he made guttural sounds of ecstasy as orgasm gripped him as fiercely as it had gripped her. She knew because the spell still wove between them, twining deeper than she should let it. She shuddered, collapsing to the bed with him, and slowly managing to reel her spell back in. Using a last pop of magic, she cleaned up any mess they’d made on the sheets. She was too spent to deal with showering, so a spell was just the thing. She grinned. It was good to be a Magickal sometimes.

“That’s the way to unwind from a long day at the office.” She stretched against the sheets, her back bowing off the mattress.

“That’s my kind of post-date celebration.”

Her euphoria diminished a bit. She sighed and pushed a hand through her disheveled hair. “It wasn’t a date, Jack.”

He was quiet for a long time. “I’ve been telling myself all along that I don’t want to date, that you’re far too dangerous to my peace of mind to be someone I date formally. I told myself I just wanted friends with benefits—or colleagues with benefits, as it were.”

Too dangerous for his peace of mind to date. What the hell did that mean? What exactly was he saying? Her heart tripped and she sat up, clutching the sheets to her breasts. She realized they were still clamped and she pulled the clips away, a shudder running through her as sensation roared back into her nipples. “I—I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Everything I was telling myself ... it was all bullshit. I like you. I want to date you.” He took a deep breath and folded his hands behind his head. “I don’t know where this thing with us can go, but I want to find out.”

It couldn’t go anywhere. Her time was ticking down like some bomb about to go off. Her insides squeezed, her throat tightening until she almost couldn’t breathe. “I’m not in a place in my life ...”

“That’s bullshit, too.” He turned his head a bit to look her directly in the eyes. “Give me a good reason why.”

What could she say? She couldn’t tell him the truth, that when they figured out who this killer was, he was going to murder her, too. And that was the positive outcome. The worst possible scenario was she died before they found out his identity, and she was gone before he was caught. She’d rather take the bastard with her. And there was no way she could tell Jack that.

He lifted his eyebrow at her silence. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

Throwing her hands in the air, she sighed. “When would I have time to do that? We’re in the middle of a murder investigation. I’m kind of busy.”

“So, we’re in an exclusive sexual relationship, we had dinner together at a restaurant, and then we came home and shagged like rabbits hopped up on speed.” He remained calm and relaxed against the pillows. “Sounds like dating to me.”

“It wasn’t a date, it was food followed by anal sex.” She folded her arms and glared down at him. “Don’t make it more romantic than it actually was. You finger-fucked me in a parking lot.”

His dark brows arched upward again, a wicked grin slashing across his face. “And you got off on it, so apparently my nonromantic approach does something for you.”

“Shut up.”

“Selina ...”

She frowned. Desperation began to crawl through her. She needed to deflect him. “Why are you pushing this? You said you’d been married before. I would assume that divorce would make a man leery of relationships.”

“I didn’t get divorced.”

Oh, shit. She closed her eyes as that deflated her. If he’d been married and was single now, without having been divorced, that only left one ugly option. “I’m sorry for your loss. I just assumed ... I shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t specify, and it’s hardly odd for marriage to end in divorce these days. What is it now? One in two? Two in three? The odds were pretty high that you were right.” He sighed and sat up, propping his forearm on his bent knee.

“What happened?” She shouldn’t ask. She knew she shouldn’t, but she hadn’t been able to shut down her fascination with this human so far. Now was no exception. “How did she die?”

“She killed herself.” The words were blunt, and his gaze was locked on her face, waiting for her response.

The shock of it hit her, jolted her deep within. “What? Oh, gods. Jack.”

“It was a long time ago.” His tone was flat, empty, and that made her ache deep inside. His very lack of response dragged at her soul.

She had to reach out to him. She had to. Slipping her hand into his, she squeezed his fingers. “There’s no such thing with something like that. It lives with you.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “It really does live with you.”

Much like her cousin’s death had lived with her. On so many levels, they were so alike, and that was going to make leaving that much harder. Emotion she hadn’t let out in decades built up inside her, and she wanted to lay her head against his shoulder and sob for him, for herself, for everything that she’d lost, and for everything that she’d never have.

But she couldn’t. She’d locked so much of herself down when she’d lost Bess, just to stay sane and not let the guilt eat her alive. She’d iced over her heart because she’d had to. When had that protection become a prison? And did it really matter, since she was already on a collision course with Fate?

10

He’d never told anyone about his wife. Never. Not once in almost twenty years. There were people who knew, of course. People who were there through it all, like his mother and Darren, and people who’d read his personnel file, like Luca. But he’d never told anyone, point-blank, that his wife committed suicide. How could he talk about it and not relive the nightmare? All of it was better left behind him. He huffed out a laugh. It looked like Selina wasn’t the only one who’d put up walls.

“Is the coffee almost ready?” she called from somewhere in the depths of her house.

He slid the carafe into position and clicked on the machine. “Just about.”

“Most excellent.” The way her voice echoed told him she was probably in the bathroom.

A few seconds later, the sound of the shower spraying confirmed it. He smiled and continued moving around the kitchen, finally making her that French toast he’d promised. He cracked the eggs into the bowl, added a little milk and cinnamon, and mixed them together, only half his mind on the task. The other half still chewed over what had happened the night before. It felt like something fundamental inside him had shifted, some weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying around had lifted.

Whatever walls he had, this thing with Selina was making him break them down. He’d admitted—out loud—that he wanted more than just sex. He’d admitted—out loud—that his wife had taken her own life. It hadn’t even been that bad. Of course, Selina’s reaction to the little bombs he’d dropped on her had been mixed.

She hadn’t pitied him or fawned all over him, she’d given him tough sympathy, and it was the reaction he’d needed. No babying anyone and no bullshit, that was his Selina.

However, she’d also completely rejected the idea of anything other than an affair. It had taken him a long time to find a woman who made him want to try relationships again. He didn’t want to let that slip away.

Maybe it was that he was mortal, but he didn’t have five hundred years to get his shit together. His time was limited, so when he saw something he wanted, he went after it.

And he wanted Selina.

He’d tried to hold it off, tried to deny it, but it had been no use. It hadn’t been a lie when he told her he didn’t know where this was going, but he was going to pursue it and find out. If working with him on this case made it harder for her to avoid him ... Well, he was ruthless enough to take advantage of that.

His first wife hadn’t called him a relentless bastard for nothing.

The egg on the French toast sizzled when it hit the hot pan, and the tantalizing smell of it filled the air, mixing with the rich aroma of brewing coffee. His stomach rumbled in anticipation. It only took a few minutes to have a pile of piping hot slices on a plate.

“Ooooh.” Selina moaned as she came in the kitchen door. She was wrapped in a towel, her hair in damp strands around her face.

He grinned at the sight. “Didn’t even bother to get dressed before you came to breakfast, huh?”

“Are you insane?” She flipped open a cupboard and pulled out two large coffee mugs. “After I smelled that, you’re lucky I bothered to throw on a towel. I could have just walked out here dripping wet.”

“It’s your floor that would get messed up, not mine.” He used a spatula to fish out the last batch of French toast before he turned off the stove.

She slanted him a quick smile. “That’s why I grabbed the towel.”

They sat at the small table and chairs she had tucked into the sunroom off the kitchen. He divvied up the food on their plates and slathered his with syrup. She put sugar in his coffee and handed it to him, then drank hers black. He sipped it and found that she’d put just the right amount of sweetener in it. Well, she’d been paying attention during the time they’d been together, though he doubted she’d care to have him point that out.

“This is good, thanks.” He set his mug down and applied himself to his food.

“Yeah, it is. Thanks for cooking.” She grinned, but it faded quickly. She sat with her fork poised over her French toast, her coffee still clutched in the other hand, and a flash of guilt darted across her face. “We should hurry. We need to go in.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “We were up early. We have some time first. As you said, running ourselves into exhaustion makes for shitty investigation.”

“Hoisted by my own petard.” She saluted him with her coffee. “Maybe I’m getting senile in my old age. You can’t hold things I say against me.”

Her expression said beat that, but he was caught on the age reference. He knew she was a lot older than he was, but that didn’t meant she wouldn’t outlast him by a couple of centuries, too. “So, if you’re getting senile now, how many years do you have left before old age gets you?”

The look on her face went wary. “If I were to make it to the end of a Magickal lifetime ... maybe fifty or sixty years, give or take.”

“Same as me. Give or take.”

She shifted in her seat, her eyes narrowing as if she were trying to figure out what angle he was working. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”

“Well, you were talking all crazy about not using what you say against you. As if that might actually happen or something.” He shook his head. “That swift slide into dementia ... it just breaks the heart.”

“Brat.” She huffed and sipped her coffee.

Chuckling, he went back to work on his food, and she did the same. They chatted about this and that. Work, clues for the case, his parents, Grim, Tess and Peyton, Tess and Luca. Just whatever came to mind. The normalcy of it was ... nice. Something he hadn’t let himself have with any woman since his wife, and that had only been on the good days. Toward the end, those had been few and far between.

“Can I ...” Selina hesitated for a moment. “What was her name?”

His wife. He knew who she was asking about, and knew she had questions. Familiar dread curdled in his belly at the thought of talking about it, but he forced that down. If he wanted to be with Selina, he had to be straight with her. As she’d said when they first began working together, she liked to know what she was dealing with. And whether he liked it or not, what had happened with his wife had defined how he dealt with relationships with women ever since. Keep it light, keep it easy, walk away before it turned serious and anyone got hurt. Never trust a woman with your soul, or she’ll crush it. He took a breath. “Heather. Her name was Heather.”

Selina remained silent, just watching him, but he could feel her waiting for him to tell her more. Or not. She wouldn’t push, he knew, but he suspected it was more because she understood that to push him to get more personal meant that he’d push her for the same.

“I was still in the marines when she died, and I think it’s safe to say she hated being a soldier’s wife.” There was bitterness to the smile that twisted his mouth.

“Being a soldier’s wife is no reason to end it all.” The elf’s fingers tightened on her coffee mug. “She could have just left you for some nine-to-five office stiff.”

“But she didn’t. She killed herself.” The words came out flat, harsh. There wasn’t a nice way to say it, so he usually didn’t. Suicide was ugly and harsh. “And she blamed me for it.”

God. He closed eyes that burned, swallowing hard. That truth was one he’d never, ever told anyone. Not even his mother knew. He’d kept it locked inside him, the guilt a thorn that festered and made it impossible to move on.

“Shit.” Selina’s slim fingers curled into his, holding his hand as she’d protested doing the night before.

He barked out a laugh. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“I mean, I’m sorry. I mean ... shit.” Her hand tightened, and when he met her eyes, he saw sympathy there that he’d never accepted from anyone else.

He shook his head, the self-loathing hitting him in a wave that threatened to choke him. “The damnable part is ... I should never have married her. My mother even told me it was a bad idea.”

Which meant he’d never been able to confess just how right his mom had been. He’d been too ... ashamed. Of himself. Of what had become of his marriage. Of having put Heather and himself in a situation he’d been warned would become a problem.

“My mother told me Heather wasn’t strong enough to be a military wife. She said it took grit to handle your husband leaving for months or years at a time and knowing he might come home in a body bag.” He gripped Selina’s hand as if it were a lifeline. “She’d lived through that and she hadn’t tried to stop me from joining up, so if anyone knew about that kind of forbearance, it was her, but I was in love and I didn’t listen. And in the end, she was right.”

Selina snorted a short laugh. “Like that helps.”

“Not really.” No, it just made him feel more responsible, as if he’d helped put the gun in his wife’s hand. And maybe he had. He didn’t know anymore. He’d obsessed over it for a long time before he’d forced himself to get on with his life. “I thought if my mom could handle it, then any woman could.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure if that’s sheer stupidity or just that my mom gave me a lot of faith in the strength of women.”

“Your mom is a pretty awesome woman, and I only talked to her for an hour.” Selina shrugged. “But people handle things differently. What can break one person won’t break another and vice versa. Did you know Heather wasn’t doing well before it happened?”

Such a simple question, with such a complicated answer. “The thing about Heather was that when she was up, there was no one happier, no one more fun to be around. But when she was down, there was nothing that could drag her out of it. I felt so damn helpless during those days, and they only got worse and lasted longer as time went on. I just didn’t know what to do for her, and she refused to get help. I tried to push her into therapy, but ...”

“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.” Selina folded her legs up to her chest, more of that tough sympathy reflecting in her gaze.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” Just that. No pity, no recriminations about whether or not he should have gotten married.

“Me too. It may not sound like it, but she was a really nice girl. Normal ... and we never told her about Darren and Mom being werewolves. I think somewhere deep down, I knew Heather wouldn’t handle it well. I met her sophomore year of college. I was in ROTC and she was a sorority girl.” He grinned, and it was bittersweet. “I loved her.”

What had started out so well had ended so badly. It was hard to remember that shining beginning sometimes. He’d spent years telling himself he never should have proposed, and he sometimes forgot how he’d imagined having a life with her. Kids, grandkids, the whole works. It was difficult for the good not to be buried under the onslaught of ugliness.

“Please tell me she wasn’t selfish enough to do it while you were there. Tell me someone else found her.”

“Someone else found her.” Which always made it a little bit worse. It had been three days before anyone had noticed that she wasn’t around. He’d seen pictures of the scene, had forced himself to look at how the flies and the summer heat had gotten to her body, how the bullet had caved in one side of her skull, how her blood and brains had dried in dark splatters on their bathroom walls. How her blood had pooled around her in the tub. He’d made himself look at what his choices had wrought. “Even that made a point, didn’t it? All the way to the bitter end, I wasn’t really there for her. I was deployed overseas, and I didn’t give her what she needed or wanted.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Selina’s grip was almost painful on his hand, pulling him out of his memories.

“She blamed me, though. It’s hard to ignore that. And part of her reasoning was true.” He winced. “I didn’t even make it home in time for the funeral. She’d left a suicide note for me to find in our safety deposit box. Along with her wedding ring. Before she blew her brains out with one of my pistols.”

“Oh, fuck me.” Her jaw clenched hard enough that the tendons stood out on her neck. She shook her head as if she had no other words for him. And, really, what could she say? What could anyone say? Nothing would ever make it better.

Selina stood and came around the table to cup her hands around his face, her dark gaze compelling. “It was not your fault. You didn’t put a gun to her head and you sure as hell didn’t pull the trigger. I want to hear you say it out loud, Jack. It wasn’t your fault.”

Her fierceness made something snap inside his chest, made hot moisture burn the backs of his eyes. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“A part of me ...” He cleared his throat, looked down, and scuffed his shoe against the floor. “A part of me will always wonder if things might have gone differently for her if she’d chosen another guy. Some nice nine-to-five office stiff who would come home to her every night and push her into therapy when or if things ever got bad. She could always blow me off because I had one foot out the door. Once I was gone again, she didn’t have anyone there to try to get her help.”

“If she had wanted help, it would have been available to her. She didn’t want it.” Selina’s voice went soft, her fingers still curved around his face. He snagged them with his hands and brought them to his lips to kiss them. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, and shook his head.

“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll never know now.”

And that was the worst part, the speculation, the second-guessing, the never knowing. He’d learned to let go of some of the guilt, because he’d done what he thought was best, but in the end, Heather was dead. And if he’d been there for her, maybe she wouldn’t be. If he wasn’t who and what he was, she might still be alive.

He couldn’t take that kind of responsibility for someone’s happiness like that again. He wouldn’t. With Selina, he had some small amount of hope that he wouldn’t have to. She’d managed to survive whatever had put the shadows in her gaze, and maybe he could help her with those. Maybe since she was a cop, she could handle being with someone who had the same lifestyle.

Maybe. Maybe not. He’d never know unless he tried, so no matter how terrifying the prospect, he had to see what came of this. He had to know if his wife was right—if he really was incapable of giving a woman what she needed in a relationship or if he’d crash and burn a second time. Until Selina, no one had even come close to making him want to go another round with real relationships. All he knew was that when it came to her, he wanted more. He wanted everything. And even letting that thought form in his head was enough to break him out in a cold sweat.

But he’d be a fool to let go of something this good without a fight.

Selina sat in Jack’s office, her laptop plugged in before her, a stack of papers at her elbow while he worked on his half of the desk. After telling her about what had happened to his wife, he’d helped her clean up breakfast, kissed her good-bye, and drove back to his place to get dressed for work. He hadn’t said much since he’d arrived at his office, just went to work sorting through the massive amounts of information they’d found about their many victims. It was late afternoon, and they’d worked in silence all day. Companionable silence, but still.

She wasn’t sure how to take it. Silence now after he’d gone from insisting they were dating last night to telling her about his wife blaming him for blowing her brains out this morning.

What a selfish bitch. The thought was reflexive, as was the spurt of anger that ripped through her on Jack’s behalf. He was a good man, and he had absorbed too much responsibility for Heather’s weaknesses. But to blame him for all her unhappiness? To put all her shit on him when she was unwilling to seek some help ... what a selfish bitch. Selina knew it was a horrible thought to have about a dead woman. There were probably a lot of extenuating circumstances involved—law enforcement had taught her nothing if not that there were a million shades of gray in the blame game. Things were rarely black or white, right or wrong. But she’d still like the chance to bitch-slap the little sorority girl.

Sighing, she tried to refocus on the case. This was what she should be living and breathing right now, not worrying about Jack and his painful past. He didn’t seem to want pity or even sympathy. He’d never even told anyone about his wife’s suicide note. He’d carried that guilt around for decades.

She could relate. And that was the crux of the problem for her, wasn’t it? She could relate to everything with Jack. He drove her crazy, he made her think, he made her question herself and what she took for granted just by being himself. He was dangerous, just as he’d said about her. Why ... why did she have to find him now?

Her foot bounced against the floor as she tried to keep her thoughts from going in sickening circles. Focus, Selina. Focus on the damn case. She didn’t have time for man drama. Pinning her gaze to the screen in front of her, she got back to looking for any Magickal who might have been in all of the cities where the murders had taken place. Jack was doing the same. Every now and then, she glanced up at the lineup of victim photos on the walls. Every time they put another one up, she felt sick to her stomach. The ones from New Orleans weren’t even there. Yet.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her to tell Jack about her cousin. He’d told her about his wife, so he’d understand how she felt. He’d understand why she had to stay on this case, why she had it to see it through. She hoped. “Jack ...”

“Yeah?” His blue gaze moved from his computer to her face. “Did you find something?”

She shook her head, her heart thumping against her ribs, her palms slick with sudden sweat. She opened her mouth to give him more of herself than she’d given any man in close to forever.

“Damn, that’s some gruesome décor you’ve gone with, Laramie.” Delta’s drawl preceded her through the door, a stack of paperwork clutched haphazardly in her arms. She dumped it on the desk, several sheets spinning out to scatter on the floor, which she bent to retrieve. “This came for you guys, and I’ve been working on coming up with a better profile for your vampire. If you’ve got a few minutes, I can go over it with you.”

Selina sat back, deflated. She’d never know what she would have told Jack, but the moment had passed. Maybe work wasn’t the best place for that conversation anyway. It was related to the case, but it was also deeply personal to her. Tonight, when they were alone, she’d tell him.

Pushing away from his desk, Jack stood and stretched. “Should we get Peyton?”

“He’ll be along soon—he told me to go ahead and get started without him.” The blonde shrugged. “He helped me work most of this out last night anyway. I think the buildup to the full moon tomorrow night is messing with his sleep. It gets bad for a lot of wolves.”

“Bad is a relative term, especially around the full moon.” Peyton came in, his cell phone pressed to his ear. He held up a finger to ask for silence as he spoke to the person on the other end. “Right. Yeah, I owe you. Thanks.”

“What’s going on?” Selina leaned forward, tension winding through her at the expression on the wolf’s face.

“That was one of my contacts. I have a location on Gregor. He’s at Sanguine.” The wolf clipped his phone to his belt, pulled his weapon free, and checked the clip. “Suit up. Let’s go get him.”

“The Magickal nightclub? He’s out partying?” Jack shook his head, and she could see his body all but humming with the anticipation of the hunt.

Delta cleared her throat. “Actually, I have my doubts about Gregor being your guy. He doesn’t fit the profile.”

“He’s a vampire who likes to kill people, and we have a witness who can positively place him at one of my crime scenes standing over the dead body.” Jack grabbed his bulletproof vest. “Even if you’re right, I want to know why he was there.”

Selina rose and swung toward the door. “He’s got some questions to answer. I’m not convinced yet either way, but his answers may bury him.”

Her pulse sped at the thought of possibly finding Bess’s killer, of bringing him to justice. This could be him, this could be the moment she found out the truth, this could be when all of her questions were answered. If they could catch him. She didn’t put it past Gregor to get by them. He was a slippery bastard, always had been.

“I’ll drive.” She grabbed her bag. “I want to have the place surrounded when we go in for him. If he gets past us, I want enough backup there to dog pile him.”

“He’s a vampire. Too much and he’ll sense you coming,” Delta interjected. “You’d do better with a smaller team. Trust me, I know how Gregor operates.”

“I still want backup.” Selina looked to Jack. “Who are your best guys? Bring them along.”

He nodded, his phone already pressed to his ear. She led the way out to her car, her hands trembling a little as the adrenaline rush hit her hard. She controlled it, channeled it, as she had for the many years she’d been a cop. Now wasn’t the time to get sloppy, not when she might be so close.

“I’ll have my people cover the rear and side entrances; we’ll go in the front.” Jack strapped himself into his flak jacket, then pulled his weapon free of its holster. “There are civilians in there, so let’s keep this as bloodless as possible.”

“Here’s hoping,” Selina muttered, her pistol gripped snugly in her hands. Her face was set, her mouth a grim line.

“He knows our scents, so surprise is going to be pretty pointless.” Peyton grunted. “If you’re in Magickal law enforcement, you’ve run into Gregor. He knows everyone’s scent.”

Jack cued his ear comm. “Is everyone in position?”

“Ready when you are, boss,” replied one of his agents, a Fae with a sharp tongue and even sharper eye with a rifle.

Motioning Selina and Peyton forward, Jack pulled in a breath and let it ease out. His muscles vibrated with the need for action. “This is like the start of a bad joke.”

The elf shot him a look that said he was losing his marbles. “What?”

“You know, an elf, a human, and a werewolf walk into a bar ...”

Peyton snorted on a half laugh. “You are not right, man.”

“I’ve had worse said about me.” He flashed his badge at the bouncer by the door, who nodded and stepped aside. “Let’s go catch a bad guy.”

He spotted the vampire within moments of entering the club. The red hair was a dead giveaway, shining even under the low lighting of the bar. The man saw them coming, too, his eyes widened slightly, and what could almost be called an anticipatory grin flashed over his face. He saluted them with his drink, downed it, and then spun for one of the exits.

The energy building up in Jack had a direction, and he let it loose, diving after the vampire. “We have the place surrounded, Gregor. Give yourself up!”

He heard Selina behind him, a spell booming her voice out like a megaphone. “This is the police. I want everyone out of here, right now. Move!”

Screams pierced the air, and general chaos exploded around them. Jack kept his gaze on the vampire. One slip and the man would disappear, and Jack just wasn’t having that tonight. Their case needed a break, and this was it.

His heart pounded loudly in his ears, drowning out some of the squeals of fear and anger around him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Peyton body slammed by a huge wolf who’d half-shifted into a monster. Ignoring it, Jack pushed through the scurrying crowd toward his target, forcing a Fae aside and sending an elf reeling into a chair.

Gregor ducked his head out one door, then jerked back in as the roar of gunfire sounded from outside. People screamed louder, and a few spells zinged through the air. Jack ducked against a wall, taking as much cover as he could as he moved. Gregor spun, saw Jack, and whipped away again. He blinked and the vampire was disappearing into another room, one with thumping music playing and a dance floor where Magickals ran into each other in their haste to get out.

Dodging around running people, Jack hurried after the fleeing bloodsucker. Luckily, his escape was as hindered as Jack’s pursuit. Shooting in this crowd was impossible, though he wished he could, just to slow the bastard down.

Gregor darted through a door marked STAFF ONLY, and Jack ran after him, leaping over a fallen woman. The throbbing music grated on his nerves, but he pushed everything away except catching up with the vampire. He couldn’t match the speed, but he could try to keep him in sight.

He ran through the doorway, his weapon at the ready in case Gregor decided to double back and attack. There was no vampire. Jack had a choice, up a set of stairs to the right or into the darkened bowels of the building. He chose up and bolted toward the staircase.

A shout sounded above him, and Jack ran faster, taking the steps three at a time. The deep roar of a werewolf was followed by a vampiric hiss and a huge crash. He got to the top of the stairs in time to see Peyton exploding into a half shift. In seconds, he was seven feet tall, his face shooting out into a snout with dripping fangs, deadly talons tipping his fingers. He slashed at Gregor, who skittered backward, but not fast enough. Blood sprayed when the ends of Peyton’s claws ripped through Gregor’s flesh.

The vampire’s eyes flashed red, and instead of retreating, he plunged forward and sank his fangs into the werewolf. The two went down in a crash, flailing and slashing at each other with fangs and claws. They moved almost too fast for Jack to track, let alone get a decent shot in, and they took down stacked tables and chairs with them. Gregor rolled to the top, a broken table leg in his hand. He bashed Peyton in the head with the thick piece of wood, crushing his heel down on one of the wolf’s hands, and Jack heard the sickening sound of the bones snapping.

“Laramie!” Selina slid to a stop behind them. Lightning twined around her arms, and she darted forward to throw a bolt of it at Gregor.

The vampire was on her in seconds, backhanding her across the face. She blasted him away from her with more lightning, and Jack took his opportunity.

Wrapping his arm around the vampire’s neck from behind, he drove his fist into the other man’s side. Gurgling a shriek, Gregor whipped around, slamming them both backward into a wall. The breath exploded out of Jack’s lungs, and he wheezed through the pain. He couldn’t match the vampire for strength or speed, so he tightened his grip around the man’s neck. Again and again, Gregor rammed them into the hard wall, until Jack felt it begin to give.

Exhaustion sapped at his strength, and his arms shook with the effort to hold on. Agony flowed in waves up and down his back, sweat sliding down his skin, burning into his eyes. The vampire twisted and bucked hard, and Jack couldn’t maintain his grip. He flipped through the air, covering his head with his arms to protect it. Crashing into the floor, he rolled over and over until he hit the top of the stairs. He grabbed for the rail and caught himself before he could tumble down the steep steps.

Gregor scuttled forward to jump over Jack, but Jack wrapped his hand around the vampire’s ankle and tried to drag him back. Selina’s lightning arced through the air again, blasting Gregor away from the stairs and sending him skidding across the floor. Jack jerked his handcuffs out of their holder on his belt and dove on the vampire, slapping one cuff around the redhead’s wrist and chaining the other to his own. He wasn’t going anywhere without taking Jack with him.

A hiss of frustration exploded from the bloodsucker. The cuffs were bespelled to cut off a Magickal’s power when both were attached to the suspect. At half-power, they just slowed him down a little. Jack would take it.

Wrenching at his wrist, Gregor lifted Jack off his feet, and agony shot down his arm. With his full weight on the shoulder, it was going to give any second. The grinding pop made pain shoot straight to the base of his skull. He gritted his teeth, tensed every muscle, and lunged up to wrap his free hand around Gregor’s wrist and take the pressure off his arm. Drawing back his feet, he slammed them into the vampire’s chest, who stumbled backward. He went down hard, and Jack landed on top of him.

He rammed the butt of his hand into the vampire’s nose, breaking it. Another sharp jab, and Gregor lolled on the floor, unconscious.

As fast as he could, Jack flipped the vampire over and refastened the cuffs to both wrists. His dislocated arm was damn near useless and burned like a brand had been laid to the flesh, but it could be fixed. Jack slumped to the ground, leaning back against Gregor’s prone body. “Everybody okay?”

“I’ll live,” Selina said, picking herself up off the floor with a wince. Peyton grunted and gave her a hand up. His fingers were already starting to heal themselves, and his head looked none the worse for wear, so Jack figured he’d be fine.

“Game over. We win.” More or less.

11

Jack and Selina stepped into the interrogation room. She held a three-inch-thick folder in her hands and let it thunk to the table. Jack had had some quality time with the healer Cavalli kept on hand, so he was fine, thank gods. Selina had healed her own split lip and cleaned up while she let their vampire stew in here for a while. “So. Gregor. Interesting to see you again.”

“Always a pleasure, Detective Grayson. How’ve you been?” He flashed a cheerful smile, despite the blood crusting on his nose and lip. His body had healed itself with the swiftness of his kind, but the evidence of damage would still be there until he washed it away. Bringing him in had been as messy as she’d thought it would be. His clothes were torn and sported claw-sized rips in several places.

Jack settled into a chair silently, letting her run the show. For the moment. She arched an eyebrow, not returning Gregor’s smile. “It’s never a good day when I have to deal with you.”

“Ouch.” He gave an exaggerated wince, as though her words had deeply wounded him.

Yeah, right. If anything fazed Gregor, she had yet to run across it. She tapped her pen against the table, running her gaze over the thick file they had on the man. “You began working for the New Orleans Conclave in 1976, is that correct?”

Forming his mouth into a thoughtful moue, he tilted his head. “I’ve worked for a lot of people over the years. I’m sure they were one of the groups.”

She spun around his vampire registration paper from the All-Magickal Council. “This is your signature, isn’t it? It states that you were turned in 1978 by the leader of the Conclave.”

He shrugged. “It looks like my signature, but these things can be faked. I don’t remember this document offhand, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t sign it. That was decades ago.”

“So you worked for them as a human and they turned you. When did you leave their employ?” And was it before or after the dates of the first murders?

His expression remained bland and pleasant, but his tongue flicked out to lick some of his own blood off his lip. “I worked for them exclusively for ten years before I began to take contracts with other clients.”

Meaning he was there long after the murders, but left before the killings in the second city had occurred. She drew in a deep breath and folded her hands tight to keep them from shaking. She kept her face smooth when she looked at him. “You like to kill people, don’t you, Gregor?”

“I don’t like it.” His eyebrows rose, and he shook his head. “It’s just my job to clean up other people’s messes. Sometimes people get hurt in the process.”

She pinned him with a stare. “Some people might find that immoral.”

“Do you?” His teeth flashed in a white smile.

Shaking her head, she tapped her finger against the file in front of her. “We’re not here to talk about what I think.”

“So? I’m asking anyway.”

“I think murder is illegal. That’s what I think.” Her voice was cold enough to freeze a half-shifted werewolf in his tracks.

The chuckle he gave sounded far too charming. “The difference between murder and justifiable killing can often be as simple as who carries a badge and who doesn’t.”

Ouch, there was a direct hit.

“How did you know Jason Mathison?” Jack spoke for the first time, his blue eyes intent on Gregor.

The vampire shook his head, innocent confusion on his face. “I’ve never even heard that name.”

Innocent, ha. She was surprised he didn’t burst into flames for even attempting the lie. She sat in the chair beside Jack. “We have a witness who saw you standing over his dead body. His drained dead body.”

“I haven’t drained anybody in years.” He smiled like a good little Boy Scout.

Jack ignored that and sat forward. “You returned to Seattle a few weeks ago, didn’t you?”

“I come and go.” Gregor flapped a negligent hand.

“We have a string of murders in Seattle that started two days after you came to town. All of them drained, just like Jason Mathison.” Jack rested one hand on the table. “Why don’t you tell us why you came back to this city?”

The redhead snorted. “It wasn’t to murder anyone.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem killing people, Mr. Night. You said so yourself.” Selina pursed her lips. “Why should we believe you had nothing to do with these?”

His genial smile returned. “Believe what you want, but I didn’t kill your Jason Mathison, or anyone else since I came back to Seattle.”

“In fact”—Jack took up the questioning—“we have a similar string of murders that took place during the time you were in New Orleans. And others in about half a dozen other cities in the last thirty years. We’ve got a lot of bodies just looking for a home, and you seem like a good fit to me, Mr. Night. Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t think so.”

“If you had any real evidence that linked me to the crimes, you’d have arrested me already.” Gregor spread his hands. “Are you going to be reasonable and let me go, or do I need to call my lawyer? I’m not answering any more questions for you, and you can’t make me.”

They weren’t going to get anywhere with him. If he lawyered up, they’d get even less. Frustration crawled through her, but she knew better than to push her hand during an interrogation. She could still keep him until the lawyer arrived, keep asking questions, but she knew it would be pointless. He knew this drill far too well.

The door swung open and Delta sauntered in. “Gregor. Long time, no see, sugar.”

Every inch of color drained out of the vampire’s face, his pale skin standing out in even starker contrast to his copper hair. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

The tiniest edge of panic filled his voice. Now wasn’t that interesting? Selina arched her eyebrows, glancing back and forth between the two bloodsuckers.

“Well, you seem to be handling the elf and the Normal, so I thought you’d like to see how you measure up against a vampire.”

“N-Normal?” He flinched and grew even paler, drawing back when she stepped forward, planted her hand on the table, and got into his space.

“I’m a Normal.” Jack raised his hand. “Do you have a problem with Normals knowing about magic, Mr. Night?”

“I—”

“Think carefully how you answer that one, Gregor, since we both know you’ve let people in on magic in not quite legal ways before.” Delta’s violet gaze never wavered from his face. “Haven’t you?”

Gregor’s hands clenched on the tabletop, his eyes going wide. “I—I never meant to hurt you.”

“No, you only hurt people for money.” Her words dripped with disgust, disdain.

He flinched, his jaw working. “You have every right to hate me.”

“Fuck me, fuck me over, take my life, and drop me like I’m a worthless piece of trash.” She snorted. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do hate your bloodsucking ass.”

“I understand.”

“No, you really don’t.” Her fangs extended to their full, deadly length, a hiss rattling out of her throat. The woman looked far more vicious than Selina would have imagined she was capable of. Gregor really knew how to make friends and influence people. Delta’s accent grew thicker when she spoke again. “You’re lucky I have a badge and oaths I swore to uphold, or you’d be a dead man right now.”

He swallowed hard, nodded, but held her gaze steadily. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.”

She slapped her hand against the table. “You don’t get to be sorry, pal. I want you to suffer the way you’ve made other people suffer.”

“I have.” The words were quiet, simple.

“Not enough. Not nearly enough.”

His lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry. Almost as beautiful as you are when you’re turned on.”

All the blood whooshed out of her face, then burned in bright red spots on her cheeks. She hissed at him again, fangs bared. “I hope you rot behind bars for the rest of your long, long life.”

His eyebrow arched. “You’ll forgive me if my hopes are a bit different from yours.”

“I don’t forgive you for anything, and I doubt any of your other victims do either.” A smile slashed across her face. “You know, there’s no statute of limitations on turning someone against their will. And I’d make a real good witness in that trial.”

He swallowed and said nothing. No glib remarks, no guileless grins. He looked at Selina. “I’m in Seattle working for Mildred Standish. You can verify that with her, though I doubt she’ll give you any details about what she has me doing. I can assure you it doesn’t call for any wet work. I have correspondence that can corroborate when the job was offered and when I was required to be in Seattle, which is now. That’s why I’m in town. Not to kill anyone.”

“Do you have similar correspondence that will clear you of any involvement in the other murders?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation. “I don’t go anywhere that doesn’t include a job, so ... yes. My contracts don’t tend to be the kind that leave extra time for side jobs, trust me.” His gaze flickered to Delta when she gave a derisive snort. “I won’t give you the details of those assignments, either, but every one of my employers will vouch for having hired me and when. Give me the dates and the cities you’re talking about, and I’ll have myself cleared within the hour.”

Selina shook her head, unsatisfied with that. “What were you doing at Jason Mathison’s house?”

“I was in the neighborhood and smelled death. I went to check it out. I touched nothing at the crime scene.”

“You also didn’t report it,” Jack pointed out, stony faced.

“I assumed his people would be along soon to do so. There was no need to involve myself.” His shrug was expressive. “His body was relatively fresh when I got there, so I assure you I have an alibi for the time of his death.”

Delta made a noise that was pure, frustrated rage. She spun on her heel and stomped out of the room. Selina followed and found her bent over with her hands braced on her knees and her butt leaning against the wall, sucking in deep breaths.

“You did good, Dubois.” She squatted down so she was eye level with the other woman. “I wasn’t getting anything out of him. Thank you.”

Delta glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “He may not have done these ones, but it makes me nauseous how often he wiggles out of any responsibility for the things he has done.”

“I know.”

“Jesus. I never thought I’d see him again.” A shudder ran through her. “It was worse than I ever imagined.”

Selina sighed, sympathy winding through her. Yeah, she knew what it was like to be confronted with her worst nightmare. She was there now. “I’m sorry.”

The vampire just shook her head, pulled herself upright, and sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll be okay. I need to get back to work. I owe y’all the rundown on your profile. Which Gregor doesn’t fit.”

“We can’t keep Gregor much longer—since we have no hard evidence and I’m guessing he really will alibi out—but Jack and I will want to lean on him a little longer.” Selina rose to her feet. “Take an hour and we’ll meet you in Jack’s office.”

“I’ll be there.” The blonde’s tone was almost a threat as she strode away.

Exactly one hour later, Delta stood ramrod straight in Jack’s office. “I’m going to go over the profile I came up with, then I can talk to you about why Gregor doesn’t fit it, if you like.”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “How does he not fit the psycho-killer vampire profile, exactly?”

Sighing, Selina waved a hand between them. “Profile first, remember? And relax, Dubois. No one is blaming you for Gregor not fitting your profile, or for him having solid alibis. I’m guessing you’d have liked him to be guilty as much as the rest of us.”

“More.” Delta chortled. “I have plenty of reason to hate his ass, but your murderer isn’t him. Though I don’t buy his ‘I was just in the neighborhood’ story for a second.” Easing her rigid stance, she wandered the room, peering at each one of the victim’s photos Jack had stuck to the wall. “Your vamp has a real hate on those who tell Normals about magic, or who are Normal and know things most humans don’t.”

“I debriefed the agents on our little adventure tonight. I hear we got a whole lot of nothing out of Gregor.” Peyton strode into the office, four cups of Starbucks nestled into a cardboard holder. As he handed them out to everyone, Selina watched Tess walk by the open door. The redhead toasted her with a matching Starbucks cup.

“Pretty much,” Selina said, so grateful for the caffeine she wanted to weep. “Delta got some goods out of him, and now she’s updating us on the profile.”

“Our guy’s got vampire snobbery down to a killing science.” Jack rubbed the nape of his neck, sipped the hot brew, and looked at Delta.

She shook her head, drinking her coffee with an appreciative sigh. “No, this is more than snobbery. This guy feels wronged by the disclosure of Magickal knowledge. Perhaps he told someone and it ended in that person’s death. Perhaps he wanted to turn someone, was denied, and he lost the person. This isn’t just about prejudice, this is personal.”

“So if he was denied, we’re looking for someone who had a beef three decades ago with a corrupt Vampire Conclave.” Selina felt her shoulders slump as hopelessness swamped her. They had so much information, it was almost too much to weed through. “That’s going to narrow it down for us.”

“Yes, since I’m one of those people, and I’m guessing you are, too, and even Gregor. No one worked for them that long or lived in that city back then without despising that Conclave. But your killer also might have a history of violence that precedes his beef with them.” The blond vampire tapped the picture of their youngest victim. A twelve-year-old who’d set her dad up with her Normal math teacher. They’d been on their honeymoon when she was murdered. “You don’t jump straight into this without some buildup. He might have tortured animals as a child, displayed obsessive behavior, had outbursts of uncontrollable anger. He might have a rap sheet prior to his first murder.”

“But considering how well he’s avoided detection, he might not,” Selina pointed out. Or he might actually know his victims, integrate himself into their lives. She’d never figured out how, but he’d learned about these people and their relations to Normals somehow. He had to be constantly researching, looking for potential targets. Like Bess.

“True.” Delta propped her shoulder against the wall and folded her arms. “So, you’re looking for someone of above-average intelligence, someone who stalks his victims, plans with care, and probably fantasizes about each killing for weeks or even months in advance. The murders are very physical and very personal—he feels like he knows them by the time he kills them, and he wants to watch them while they die.”

“And know he’s the one with the power now,” Peyton interjected, chugging his coffee.

“Exactly,” the vampire replied. “He doesn’t bother to hide the bodies or do anything to cover them or even close their eyes after they’re dead. He’s not ashamed of what he’s done. He feels completely justified, righteous, and he wants whoever finds the victims to know that, to see it.”

Pacing in front of the whiteboard filled with the victims’ stats, Jack threw a hand in Delta’s direction. “I thought a lot of serial killers attempted to contact police or the media, injecting themselves into the investigation. We haven’t seen any of that.”

“That’s true, but not all of them do.” The vampire shrugged. “He may think he’s made enough of a statement with the murder itself. It’s not just about getting away with it, it’s about living out his greatest fantasy over and over again, punishing those who have what he wanted.”

“He’s a real sweetheart.” Jack grunted.

“Yeah.” Delta straightened away from the wall. “I’m having our guys pull files for vampires who might fit the bill. Gregor is not one of them.”

“Okay, tell us why not.” Peyton crossed his legs at the ankle.

“I never rule anyone out completely. That’s just foolishness.” She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them and let them drop. “Gregor is a pain in the ass, and I’m not saying he’s not involved. He was there and he has no good excuse for being there. He’s usually up to his eyeballs in guilt, but Gregor does what he does for money. It doesn’t jive with the serial killer mentality.”

Jack took a swig of coffee. “Just playing devil’s advocate, but that sounds like a good cover story to me. Kill enough people to mask the ones that are recreational.”

Delta picked up Gregor’s thick folder of misdeeds. “This is Gregor’s file. He’s a mercenary. He gets paid to protect people, to kill people, to basically make people’s lives easier if they pay him enough. He is cold, calculating, and methodical. He seems to have no moral qualms about what he does.”

“He’s also impossible to pin anything on,” Selina added wryly. She should know—she’d tried more than once. She’d gone a couple of rounds with him when Merek was her partner. Those crimes were still listed as unsolved, even though she was certain Gregor was the culprit. She just couldn’t prove it.

Delta nodded and sighed. “He’s suspected of doing a lot of illegal things. He—or his influential employers—have managed to wiggle out of anything more serious than a slap on the wrist from the All-Magickal Council. There have never been formal charges, there has never been a trial. And, despite whatever else he’s done, he’s got no record of meddling in black magic. Seriously, he’s got a list of suspected priors as long as my leg, but the kind of shit your killer has done? It’s not his style. He may feed from his victims, but he doesn’t play with his food.”

Disgusting, but well-put. Gregor talked a good game, but from what Selina had seen, his kills tended to be quick, clean, and efficient.

“His associates describe him as affable and easy to get along with. As long as you’re paying him well, he’s your best friend,” Delta continued, heavy sarcasm in her voice. No doubt she disagreed with his colleagues’ assessment. “What you’re dealing with is a lot of rage, and a compulsion that can’t be controlled. The frequency of the attacks is escalating. Your killer is losing his grip. So, what I’m saying is ... Gregor isn’t a nice man—I’m not arguing that—but he doesn’t fit the profile. Is it impossible that it’s him? No. But I also don’t think it’s likely. He has an established pattern, and this isn’t it.”

Jack nodded. “Thanks, Dubois. Pull those files on likely suspects for us. We appreciate everything you’ve done tonight, especially with loosening Gregor’s tongue a bit. I’ll ask Cavalli to lean on the Vampire Conclave to see if we can get information on who might have a grudge against the local Conclave in New Orleans.”

“Good luck with that. As Grayson pointed out, the list is pretty long. That Conclave liked to have people disappear for getting in their business. A lot of folks don’t take kindly to that, and we have long memories in the South.” Delta glided toward the door, silent in a way that only vampires could manage.

Her information gave them a little more to go on, but at this point, they knew just enough to know they didn’t know enough. Peyton growled, his fangs flashing, and Selina could feel his frustration. All of them were tense. The case grew worse by the day.

Selina finished her java and tossed the cup in the trash can in the corner. She glanced at the werewolf, whose fangs were still protruding from his gums. She checked her watch. It was a lot later than she’d thought. Or earlier, depending on one’s definition. “It’s not yet morning, but the full moon officially rises in, what, eighteen hours?”

“I know.” He stood abruptly. “I should check in with the pack. Make arrangements for tonight.”

“Is Tess going with you?”

“No. She hasn’t rampaged with the stuff Dr. Standish has her on.” His hands clenched and unclenched, unable to settle, a subtle reminder of the horrible cost of lycanthropy. “But just to be safe, she stays at the hospital for observation like all the others in the clinical trial.”

“Understandable.” Selina hoped that Chloe’s formula was approved soon. Too many wolves had already been lost during the full moon, and there weren’t enough Magickals in the world to ignore something that caused so many deaths. Then again, their serial killer fell into a similar, if smaller, category of death dealing. She pushed that aside and looked at Peyton. “Get some rest, so you’re ready to deal with the Change. We’ll see you after the moon has done her thing.”

Meaning she assumed he wouldn’t die, that she believed he could control the shift even under the duress of the full moon. He nodded his appreciation. “Thanks.”

And then he was gone. She hoped she was right and he came back. Over the years, she’d known far too many good people who’d died. It was inevitable to lose people when she’d lived this long, but it never became easy. Which was why she was here, wasn’t it? To keep this killer from taking from others the way he’d taken from her.

Determination renewed, she glanced at Jack. “Another cup of coffee and I’ll be ready to get back to work.”

12

There was a picture of Selina’s necklace on the floor under his desk. Jack frowned and bent to retrieve it. One of the papers Delta had dropped, maybe? He looked at the huge pile of files and flipped open the top one. Paperwork filled out in Selina’s neat handwriting. Attached to it was a picture of the now-familiar murder scene.

The New Orleans files had arrived.

She’d have to help him sort through them when she got back from the break room. He could definitely use another gallon or three of espresso. Without Gregor as a viable suspect, they were back to square one.

Jack pulled out the first picture and set it on his desk, then went digging to find the other three. Four victims in the Big Easy, Selina had said. He wanted to see them lined up together, compare them to the other victims’ pictures. Especially since this was the one city that seemed to have started it all, but didn’t quite fit the pattern. There was no denying these pictures, though. He’d guess once the tech guys went over the many photos of the fang puncture wounds—or mouthpiece punctures—they’d find they were an exact match to all the others. Unless they had multiple people passing around the same mouthpiece and committing murders in the exact same way for thirty years, it looked like this was more of their vamp’s handiwork.

Two women and two men. Two Magickals and two Normals. The photo of one of the women snagged his attention. She was wearing the necklace. Selina’s necklace. He pulled that one closer to him and looked again. No, it wasn’t the same. The stones were different colors, but the rest looked exactly alike. The chain, the shaping of the metal. And she was an elf, too.

It didn’t mean anything. Elves tended to specialize in magical objects. He had elven-made objects in his house—part of a security system meant to ward off those who meant him harm. The effect it created was similar to the shield spells many Magickals used to protect their property, but since he had no magical abilities, he’d had to improvise.

Still, his gaze kept going back to the necklace. Maybe it bothered him to see an elf with a necklace like Selina’s staring up at him, lifeless. He dragged the woman’s file over and flipped it open. More of Selina’s handwriting. The woman was named Elizabeth Leblanc (nee Chandler), born in England in the 1600s, next of kin was her mother, Agnes Chandler (nee Grayson), both elves.

Grayson.

His gaze caught on the name. It could mean nothing, but the hairs rose on the back of his neck. He looked back at the picture, at the necklace. What had Selina said about it at the wedding? A talisman, made by her cousin.

He pushed his chair over until he sat in front of his computer, pulled up the database for All-Magickal personnel files and typed in Selina’s name.

Bingo. Listed under next of kin was her aunt, Agnes Grayson Chandler, now deceased. They needed to update her file.

As if that was the most important problem.

In the last few minutes, incredulity had given way to anger. It boiled up inside him, an insidious darkness that spread within him as it hit him how very little Selina had trusted him. With anything other than her body. For both professional and personal reasons, she should have told him about her goddamn cousin being murdered by the man they were hunting.

This sure as hell explained why she flinched when people talked about their families. Her aunt had hated her, and her cousin had been slaughtered during a case Selina was investigating. He doubted that had helped matters with her aunt.

He realized his hands were clenched so hard on the edge of the desk, his knuckles had gone white. He’d told her about his wife, spilled his fucking guts to her, and she hadn’t even bothered to clue him in on something that touched on their case. Her lines between work and private didn’t apply here. No, she’d just lied to him, let him think this case upset her because it was gruesome and unsolved. It was the one that got away. It haunted her, she’d said.

He’d damn well deserved to know why.

Picking up the pictures of Elizabeth Leblanc’s crime scene, he forced himself to look through them. She didn’t look much like Selina. Her hair and eyes were as pale as Selina’s were dark, but there were a few similarities in the shape of the nose and chin. Not much else. It was difficult to tell with nothing but a corpse to go on. The animation of life might have given expressions that resembled her cousin, but death stole that away.

He cycled back around to the photo he’d picked up off the floor. The close-up of the necklace was a picture of the victim’s personal effects after they’d been removed from the body. Selina’s cousin’s body.

Every time he saw that talisman, he felt the rage fester inside him. His jaw clenched and he forced a breath out through his nose. He’d be pissed if it was anyone except Selina, but right now he was beyond livid. He wanted to hit something, wanted to feel something besides deceived.

“Jack?” Selina stood in the doorway, her hand on the knob, her expression wary. “Are you all right?”

No, he wasn’t. His teeth ground together, and instead of saying anything to her, he set the close-up of the necklace on the desk.

Her eyes went wide when she saw it, and she drew in a sharp breath. “The New Orleans files arrived.”

“The New Orleans files arrived,” he agreed, his voice sharper than a cracking whip.

Stepping forward, she stared down at the picture for a long moment. “I forgot she was wearing that when she died.”

“That’s all you have to say?” He was going to strangle her. He’d never done violence to a woman in his life, but his hands were shaking with the need to spank her ass for keeping this from him.

She shook herself, shook her head. “I was going to tell you about this.”

“Right.” He snorted. “When was that?”

“Today, before Delta came in to update us on the profile.”

“Convenient.” Sarcasm coated the word.

She stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not lying about this.”

“About this, maybe.” And he had his doubts, considering how huge an omission this was. “You just left out a lot of information about everything else. I had to go digging through your personnel file to put all the pieces together.”

Damn it. Damn her and all her secrets.

Her chin jutted stubbornly. The chin that looked like her cousin’s in the pictures. “I couldn’t risk you or Luca yanking me off the case because the last victim in New Orleans was related to me. Theodore and I had been hunting him for weeks before that. I had the most knowledge to offer you on the previous cases, which is why Merek brought me in.”

“Did Merek know about Elizabeth?” If he had, Jack might just strangle the groom when he got back. At the very least break his nose.

“No. Theodore knows about Bess, and my old superiors, but they’re all retired now.” She shook her head. “I had to be in on this, can’t you understand that? I can’t just stand back while this bloodsucker goes around killing Magickal-Normal crossover people like you and me. And Bess.”

That sent an icy chill down his spine. “Wait, what? I’m a Normal who knows about magic, yeah, but—”

“And my first husband was a Normal.” She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms. “What? You didn’t get to that part of my personnel file? It’s not that uncommon. There aren’t that many Magickals out there. Some people look down on it, but if we didn’t marry humans, we’d be as inbred as European royalty.”

He shook his head. “This is beside the point. You should have told me. I don’t care how fucking private you are—I had every right to know about this. It was my decision to make whether I wanted you on my case, my decision whether or not your family ties to these crimes would jeopardize the investigation.”

“It’s my case, too.” She unfolded her arms and jabbed a finger in his direction, an angry flush racing up her face. “It was my case first.”

“So? What do you want, a cookie? You didn’t manage to solve it, so it’s my case now. You’re just on loan, remember?” He knew he wasn’t being fair, but the fact that she couldn’t even admit she was in the wrong enraged him even more. He jerked to his feet, towering over her. “It doesn’t matter how much older or more experienced than me you are, you should have treated me like an adult and let me make the best choice for my case.”

She flinched as if he’d slapped her, and he wanted to take the words back, but he felt too angry and betrayed himself to back down now. Her mouth worked for a moment, and her voice came out a strained whisper. “It wasn’t about you. I would have made the same choice with anyone. Sleeping with you didn’t change anything.”

The words were a blow to the chest, especially after he’d opened up to her that morning. He felt gut-punched, hurt, and that just pissed him off even more.

“Right.” His voice dropped to a low hiss. “Of course not, because I’m just a quick fuck for you. What did you call it? Food followed by anal sex. Message received. My mistake. It’s so nice to know you would have deceived anyone to get what you wanted.” He leaned closer to her, until there were mere inches between their faces. “It’s professional courtesy to let someone know before you fuck over their investigation. Even if we weren’t sleeping together, I had a right to know about this.” He slapped the rest of the pictures down on the desk in front of her.

Her gaze dropped to the photos and her face went deathly pale. Swaying on her feet, she put one hand on the back of a chair to steady herself. She swallowed hard, then clamped her free hand over her mouth.

“Selina?” He looked down and saw a close-up of Bess’s dead face. But Selina had seen all these before, hadn’t she? She’d probably been there in person.

Spinning on a heel, Selina walked over to the trash can in the corner, bent forward, and vomited. He watched her back heave as another spasm racked her, and she hit her knees.

He was around the desk in a split second, kneeling beside her. She didn’t resist when he drew her against his chest. He rocked her lightly, his chest tight. He didn’t know why her reaction was so violent, but he couldn’t stand aside and watch her suffer. Maybe that made him weak or a fool, but that was how it was. It didn’t matter how angry he was with her. “Shh. Selina, shh.”

“I just—” Her muscles locked, and he leaned forward with her, held back her shirt and necklace so she didn’t get puke on them. A rough sob broke out of her, and she threw up twice more, until there was nothing left in her stomach and she dry-heaved. She was shaking when she slumped back against him.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Jack looked up to see Peyton standing there. He had a leather jacket slung over one arm. “I was on my way out and I heard ... Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Selina’s voice was a gritty rasp, and she swiped her arm against her mouth.

Jack added, “Food poisoning. She’s going home.”

The wolf nodded as if that made perfect sense, though Jack was damn sure Peyton had heard them yelling and that was what had brought him running. He reached over and picked up Selina’s bag. “I’ll take you home.”

“I’ll drive myself, thanks.” She hauled herself out of Jack’s arms and rose to her feet, weaving a little unsteadily.

Peyton retained his hold on her messenger bag. “Fine. I’ll follow you and make sure you get home safely.” He lifted a hand to ward off any protests. “Then I’ll go straight to the pack for lockdown, I promise.”

“Fine.” She didn’t look at the pictures or at Jack as she marched out the door.

Jack stood slowly, met Peyton’s gaze. “Take care of her.”

“I will.”

Because he couldn’t. Because she didn’t want him to. He could feel her retreating behind those walls of hers, locking him out. It was two steps forward and five steps back with her, and he just didn’t have the energy left to deal with it today. If she needed to retreat and lick her wounds, that was her prerogative. He couldn’t force her. It was a lesson he should have learned with his wife. If a woman didn’t want to stay with him, he couldn’t make her. At least this one hadn’t chosen death as a better option.

That evening, Selina stood in front of Jack’s front door. She lifted her fist to knock, hesitated, let her hand drop. Grim parked himself beside her, leaning against her in support. He barked once to encourage her. Pain in the ass he might be, but he was loyal to the core, and she could use the bolster to her courage right now. Selina took a deep breath, raised her hand again, and stumbled back a step when the door flew open.

Jack frowned down at Grim but reached out to ruffle the dog’s furry head. “I thought I heard a mutt on the porch.”

“Hi,” Selina squeaked.

His blue gaze rose to meet hers, his expression inscrutable. If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it. His dark hair was rumpled as if he’d run his fingers through it multiple times, and while he still wore the clothes from the office, his tie and jacket were gone, his shirt was untucked, and his feet were bare. “Hello. You’re supposed to be home recovering from food poisoning. Did you need something?”

“I don’t know.” Pressure had built and built inside her since she’d left him, after she’d upchucked in his office and he’d lied to protect her pride from Peyton. It had been ... kind, when she didn’t really deserve it.

Still, she couldn’t get the image of her cousin out of her head. It had always been there, lingering in the background for thirty long fucking years, but seeing the pictures again made it feel as though the image was seared into her retinas. That night played in a loop in her head. Getting the call that there’d been another one. Realizing that she knew the address and having to call Holmes to let him know before she raced out the door. It had been the longest ten-minute drive of her life to get to Bess’s house. Some part of her had hoped, prayed that someone else had died, not her baby cousin. Her aunt had been the one to find the body, and the venom she’d spat had been nothing compared to the horror that froze Selina inside when there was no more denying the devastating truth. Those staring, blank eyes had made her vomit then, too. She’d come back and done her job, but the violent reaction had been as beyond her control then as it had been today.

Jack watched her, waiting. Then he silently stepped back and held the door open for her. “You might as well have some coffee while you’re here.”

A pathetic amount of gratitude flooded her that he wasn’t just going to slam the door in her face. He had every right to, and they both knew it. She stepped in, Grim preceding her. “Coffee’s good.”

But it wasn’t what she wanted. She’d become addicted to having him as a distraction. Talking to him, sexing it up with him. Hell, there’d been a couple of especially long days when they’d just sat beside each other and watched television, making sarcastic comments about whatever they happened to be watching. Mostly, she just wanted him to strip her and fuck her hard until there was no past or present or future, until she didn’t have to think about a damn thing.

She wanted to use him, just as he’d accused her of earlier. It made her feel like shit, but her insides were twisting and writhing so badly she’d go crazy if she didn’t get some relief from her own thoughts. She only knew of one distraction powerful enough to take her mind off of this. There were several men she could have called to take care of her needs, but she didn’t want them. She wanted Jack, no matter how pissed off he was at her, no matter how complicated things were between them. The idea of any other man touching her right now was repugnant. She only wanted Jack.

“Forget the coffee.” She caught his arm when he would have turned toward the kitchen. “You know why I’m here.”

“Ah, yes. Your convenient fuck buddy.” There was a sting in his voice that lashed at her.

“That was all this was ever supposed to be.” Her tone was almost pleading, and she hated herself for the weakness, but she couldn’t make herself walk away.

“It’s more than that now.” And he didn’t sound very happy about it. She couldn’t say that she blamed him. Right now, she was a bad bet, for so many reasons.

“I know.” Confessing it hurt. She should never have let it get to this point, and she had no one to blame except herself. As usual. She was her own worst enemy.

His chin dropped to his chest and he sighed. “I’m still pissed. I have every right to be.”

“I know.” Gods, she did. In his position, she’d have already kicked her ass to the curb.

“You should have told me.” He looked at her, and the pain in his gaze made her flinch.

“I know.” She swallowed, telling herself to leave it at that. But she couldn’t. “At the time, I made the decision I thought was best. Given the same circumstances, I would probably do the same thing again. I didn’t know you, and I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

“And you had to be on this case that badly, no matter what the cost?” His gaze drilled into her, daring her to look away.

“Yes. For Bess. For all his victims I couldn’t spare.”

Even now, she had to see this through to the end. It wasn’t in her to let it go and walk away. Just being who she was had pushed more than one man away over the years, and it added more weight to her chest to realize Jack might be another.

“Are you going to make me beg?” She wanted the question to be glib, but instead it broke in the middle.

“No, I’m not going to make you beg.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. His touch was gentle when he brushed her hair back. His gaze searched her face, but she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t deal with the questions in his eyes, couldn’t deal with the storm of emotions that rocked her.

Fisting her fingers in his shirt, she tried to pull him down for a kiss, tried to lose herself in him and bury everything that she didn’t want to feel.

He resisted, kissing her so sweetly it made her breath catch and her eyes sting. He bent and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom and laying her across it. His lips played over hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth to twine with hers. Her breathing sped, her nipples tightened, and the desperation faded, replaced by the hot lust he never failed to inspire. This. This was what she’d needed. She slid her fingers into his hair, the warm silk of it soft against her palms. The stubble on his jaw rasped against her skin, the feel delicious.

Blindly, they tugged at each other’s clothing, pulling off a piece at a time between long, drugging kisses. The taste of him intoxicated her, made her crave him even more. The feel of his naked body moving against hers was something she’d never get enough of, not if she had a hundred more years to try. But she didn’t. Squelching that thought, she nipped at his lower lip, pushed her tongue in to slide alongside his and take in the flavor of him. So perfect. Her heart squeezed tight enough to make her breathing hitch.

He slipped his hands up her arms, drew them away from his body and over her head. He broke the kiss, and before she could blink, he’d snapped a metal cuff around one wrist, looped the chain around the wrought-iron bars in his headboard, and closed the other cuff around her free wrist.

“Oh, really?” She arched her eyebrows and tugged at the bindings. “You think these things can hold me? I know the spells to get out of even police issue handcuffs.”

“These aren’t exactly department issued. These were elf-made just for me. Bespelled to keep even the most powerful and unruly Magickal under wraps. A Normal like me needs all the advantages he can get.” He leaned forward to blow a slow stream of air against her sensitive ear, then flicked his tongue against the delicate point. “Besides, you don’t want to escape me.”

She shuddered, arching her body toward him. “No, I don’t.”

“Good.” He sat back to trail his fingers from her collarbone to her breast. His face was shadowed in the dark, only thin shafts of light coming through the bedroom doorway. “Close your eyes.”

She hesitated for a moment, but then did as he bid. He’d make it good for her, she knew it, and she refused to think about why she trusted him so implicitly.

Testing her magic against the bindings, she found he wasn’t lying. They were built to nullify magic. If she shoved every ounce of magic she had at them, she might be able to escape. Maybe. It looked like no pleasure spells for her tonight. She just got to lie back and relish whatever he had in mind for her. A shiver went through her and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

He blew another breath against her ear, and she writhed on the sheets, the cuffs clanging as they drew taut. Gooseflesh burst out on her arms and legs, and her nipples drew to painful points. That she couldn’t see him made it all the more erotic, and her sex throbbed, aching to be filled.

The tip of his tongue followed the path his fingers had taken, sliding over her collarbone and slipping down to circle her nipple, then he bit down. Her breath caught at the sharp sensation, the pleasure with the sting. She tried to push her breast deeper into his mouth, bowing her back, but the handcuffs jerked tight, kept her from forcing him.

“Shh. Just enjoy it.” His breath rushed against the damp flesh of her nipple.

Shivers went through her, and a needy noise slipped from her. Tonight, she didn’t even care if that made her weak. She needed him now, needed what he could give her. Release. “Suck me, Jack.”

His lips opened over her nipple, and he sucked the tight crest, batting it with his tongue, shoving it against the roof of his mouth. Switching to the other breast, he offered it the same treatment. She panted, twisting against the restraint of the handcuffs. The binding only accentuated her helplessness, and it excited her more. Sweat beaded on her flesh as her desire reached a fever pitch. Her pussy was so wet, shivers racing through her body.

“Mmm.” He hummed, letting her nipple slide from his mouth. The sheets rustled as he sat up to strew kisses down her torso. Sliding one muscular thigh between hers, she felt him move to kneel in the vee of her spread legs. “Now would be such a good time for that pleasure spell of yours, where we get to feel each other’s lust.”

She choked on a laugh, opening her eyes to look at him. “Undo the cuffs, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Nah. I like having you tied up and at my mercy. It’s fucking sexy.” His hard cock twitched and seemed to expand even more. His hands closed over her thighs and shoved them wide. “I can do anything I want to you now.”

Her heart thumped at the expression on his face, so hot and worshipful at the same time. She didn’t remember a time when a man had looked at her that way. “Jack.”

“Hmm?” He brushed his fingers through the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, dipping in to circle her clit. He pressed down directly on that tight bundle of nerves, then moved his finger over it in rapid strokes that had her hips arching off the bed.

Moans poured out of her, heat streaking over her skin. Her lids drifted shut again, and she steeped herself in what he was doing to her. He wasn’t even inside her, and she could feel orgasm beginning to build as she undulated under his hand. The muscles in her thighs shook and her arms ached from yanking on the metal bindings.

“Jack, please!”

Pulling her legs up, he rested her ankles on his shoulders. “Look at me.”

She did, dazed with the lust humming through her. His gaze locked with hers, the blue deep enough to drown in, the intensity electric. Rubbing the blunt crest of his cock against her slick lips, his gaze never wavered from hers. They groaned together when he pushed into her pussy, filling her as exquisitely as he always did. The expression in his eyes demanded that she stay with him, that she not look away. He withdrew, slow enough to drive her wild, then plunged back in, hard enough to make her sex clamp down on his thick cock.

Sweat trickled down their flesh, one more sensation to heighten the others. The friction from his thrusts drove her to the edge of climax, but she wanted this to last. Her body stretched taut, and each time he entered her, the cuffs squeaked against the wrought-iron headboard. Still, she didn’t look away from him. She could see everything he was feeling. The craving, the strain of holding back his own orgasm. Laying his palm on her lower belly, he eased his thumb between her thighs, stroking her clit in time with his thrusts. It was too much. Far too much. Her hips heaved upward, and she came hard.

A scream ripped out of her, and she arched hard against the restraints. A single wave of magic burst out, golden light that bathed their skin, melded their pleasure, amplified their orgasms so they groaned together. Her sex pulsed around his cock, milking his hard length. His come pumped into her, a hot flood of fluid. He shuddered over her, continuing to rock himself inside her. And still they stared at each other until he dropped his forehead between her breasts, panting. She shook where she lay, her body wrung out, her mind as blank as she had hoped when she arrived at his house.

The cuffs jangled for a moment before they fell away, and he tossed them onto the nightstand. Her body went slack against the bed, relaxing bonelessly. He drew her wrist to his lips and kissed it. “You’ll be bruised.”

She shook her head, licked her lips, and focused her magic for a moment. Warmth seeped beneath her flesh, and the pain in her wrists faded. Healed. “A little Magickal first aid. All better.”

“Nice.” He brushed his lips over the repaired skin.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He pulled her against him, rolling them so that her back was to his front. He wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her pressed to him. Silence descended on the room, and she could hear the steady cadence of his breathing, the tick of the clock on the nightstand, the click of Grim’s nails as he walked down the hallway.

It was peaceful.

She’d thought she wanted rough, fast sex, but instead he’d given her a connection that shattered her. He’d given her exactly what she needed. How he’d understood that when she hadn’t, she’d never know, but she was glad.

His fingers drifted up and down her arm, and maybe it was because he didn’t demand any information, or maybe it was because she needed to give it voice after locking it away for so long, but there in the dark where no one could see her cry, she could finally talk to someone about Bess.

“She was named after Queen Elizabeth—the first one, not this one.” Gods. Just that one sentence hurt. Opening this festering old wound hurt. No, forget hurt. That was a pansy ass description for it. It fucking burned a hole in her soul that could never be filled.

His fingers continued to stroke her shoulder and down her arm. “Right. I suspect she predated the current one by quite a lot.”

“Yeah. She was about a hundred years younger than me. She was such a little brat, too.” A reluctant smile curled her lips while moisture seared the backs of her eyes. “She was a hellion, determined to do everything her own way, and damn anyone who got in her way.”

“Must be a family trait.”

She laughed, and the sound was watery. “Maybe. She was ... a hippy before there were hippies. Bohemian and artistic, carefree and unwilling to live with the fetters of anyone else’s rules. She drove me batshit-crazy.” She shook her head, her hair rustling against the pillowcase. “It wasn’t until about ... I don’t know, the 1890s or so that we met again in New Orleans. We hadn’t seen each other in centuries.”

His lips brushed the nape of her neck. “The time had changed you.”

“Yes and no. I wasn’t a young bride chafing to get out from under my family’s heel. Even at a hundred, I was unwed and looked like a blushing girl, so that’s how society treated me, and I had to live like humans did. In my family’s home, under my uncle’s rule, until I got married and was transferred to my husband’s home and his rule. I just wanted out. And I had to deal with a hellcat baby cousin who didn’t listen to a thing I said, even though they made it my job to look after her.” Which had prepared her for her future career as a governess for spoiled, wealthy children once she’d been left a widow. It seemed like she’d been lonely most of her life.

“Her mother was that aunt who hated you.” His voice was calm and quiet in the dark, his hand squeezing her arm in support.

“Yeah, Aunt Agnes didn’t really foster a loving environment in her house.” Truer words had never come from her lips, but that had hardly been Bess’s fault. Selina had been miserable in that house for a lot of reasons. “To say little cousin and I didn’t get along was kind of an understatement, but the second time around, we were both adults and had been out on our own for a long time. She’d married a Normal man and he helped ground her, but didn’t try to tie her down. The guy was perfect for her, and she was devastated when he died. We’d become friends before, but that was when we got really close.” She licked her lips. “When she was killed, I just felt like ... we had lost so much time when we were apart, and then what was left was stolen from us.”

“She was your best friend.”

Her lips trembled and tears glutted her eyes. “Yes.”

Gods, yes, she had been. They were as different as night and day, but they’d loved each other anyway and learned to appreciate the other’s strengths. Nothing had ever in her life hurt as much as losing Bess. Not losing her mother, her husband, or any of her lovers or friends along the way. Death was just a part of living, but with Bess? No. She’d been so alive ... far more than Selina had ever managed. A piece of her had died with her cousin, and every year that passed seemed to take a little bit more of her, until she was cold and empty and so damn tired of all of it.

“You blame yourself.”

“No. Yes. Maybe, I don’t know. I always feel like it should have been me. I was the oldest, I was the cop, I was the one investigating the case. It should have been me to go first, not her. That ugliness should never, ever have touched Bess.” Sweet, light, vivacious Bess. She’d been the best part of Selina. And then she was gone, leaving Selina more alone than she’d ever been in her existence.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

An echo of her words to him about his wife. “I know that.”

“Do you?”

Did she? Her aunt had blamed her, wished it was her that had died instead of her beloved daughter. And Selina had always felt as though she’d failed her cousin by not catching her killer. That was a lot of guilt to pile on for decades.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Hoisted by her own petard. Again. She pressed her lips together, trying to still their shaking enough so she could speak coherently. “It wasn’t my fault. But, gods, I miss her so fucking much.”

And then she broke, sobbing with the terrible anguish she had never allowed herself to express in all these years. She’d set it aside to chase the killer, set it aside to stay sane, set it aside to focus on her career. She’d avoided it for so long that once it hit her, she was drowning in it, her body rocking with every ragged, hitching breath, her throat raw with the keening wails that ripped from her. There was no escaping this horrible grief, not anymore.

Jack held her through it all, murmuring a soothing cadence of reassurances. He didn’t leave her, just let her get it all out until there was nothing left.

He smoothed her hair back and kissed her cheek. “Get some rest, honey.”

So she closed her eyes and let unconsciousness take her. Jack’s arms were around her, and she felt less alone than she had in a long, long time. She sighed, sliding into dreamless slumber.

13

Calls that came in the middle of the night were never good. Jack’s heart jolted when his phone blared and jerked him out of a sound sleep. Heart pounding, he groped for his cell before it vibrated itself off his nightstand.

Selina bolted upright, hair sticking out in every direction, eyes wild. “Holy shit, you need to change your ring tone. The air raid siren freaks me out.”

“I’ll do that.” After a day of languorous sex with breaks for eating and going over files again, and a night of more sex and deep sleep, this was one rude-ass awakening. He snagged the phone and unplugged the charger. Tapping the screen, he pressed it to his ear. “Laramie.”

“Jack, it’s Luca.” The vampire’s usually smooth voice was rough with rage. “You need to come down to Harborview Medical Center.”

A chill went down his spine, but he pushed the button to set his cell on speakerphone so Selina could hear, too. “Another victim?”

“Yes, only this one survived. Barely, but he survived. They think if he makes it through the night, he’ll recover.”

His heart slammed against his rib cage. A survivor. A witness. Selina threw aside the covers and leapt out of bed, throwing on clothes and thrusting her fingers through her disheveled hair.

“Do we have a name on the vic yet?” Jack grabbed a notepad to write it down so he knew whose room to ask for when they arrived at the hospital.

“It’s Darren Kerr. Your stepfather.” Luca’s Italian accent deepened. “I’m so damn sorry, Jack. Get down here now.”

Everything inside him froze, slowed down until it stopped. His heart, the very breath in his lungs. The phone slipped from his hand and clattered against the floor.

Selina snapped her fingers and his clothes were magically on. She tugged him out the door and stuffed him into her car. Hard determination molded her features as she floored it all the way to Harborview, the blue light flashing on her dashboard. He didn’t remember anything else about the drive, just the expression on her face. He didn’t know how long it took, just that it felt like forever. His hands felt as though they’d been made of ice, and he fumbled to get the door open when they arrived.

A hand wave from his elf, and the door flew wide. He tumbled out of the car and almost face-planted in the parking garage. He shook himself out of his stupor and ran for the hospital entrance, Selina right on his heels. All he could think was, Please, God, don’t let me lose another father. Please, God. Not someone else I love.

Sliding to a halt at the nurses’ station, he barked, “Darren Kerr. Where is he?”

The nurse drew herself up as if he’d said something offensive. Selina leaned over the desk, her eyes slitted. “We’re with the FBI. I suggest you answer the man’s question.”

“Level four, left off the elevator.”

The Magickal ward. Of course. Like every other public service, hospitals had a special branch for Magickals. Darren was there. Jack spun and sprinted for the elevator. There was a crowd there, waiting. What were all these people doing here? They all seemed to be sobbing. No way could he handle standing there with that. To hell with waiting for the elevator. He turned for the stairs and hit them running. His arms and legs pumped as he took the steps two at a time. Sweat streaked down his face to sting his eyes, and his vision blurred.

He burst out of the stairwell and collided with Selina as she stepped off the elevator. She went careening into the wall, and he caught her before she fell.

“Laramie.” Luca rose from his chair down the hall, which was parked next to a room with three agents guarding it. He stepped in front of Jack before he could rush into the room. “Be ready when you go in there. He was shot with silver bullets and stabbed repeatedly with a silver implement. It’s as bad as the others, only he’s still breathing.”

“He understands that, Cavalli,” Selina snapped, appearing at his side, a slender virago in his defense. “Get out of the way.”

Glancing down at her, Luca sighed and moved. “He asked for Angela, but that’s the only word he’s spoken.”

“My mother’s on a business trip in Portland. She left after the full moon lockdown ended yesterday at dawn.” It wasn’t even dawn yet now. She’d been gone less than a day. “She’s not getting back until Friday.”

Darkness edged the corners of Jack’s vision when the bed came into view, his stepfather still as death and as pale as the sheet draped over him.

“I called her.” Luca’s voice seemed to come from a very long distance. “I’ve sent my family’s private jet down there, and she’ll be here soon.”

“Thank you, Luca,” Selina replied for Jack, because he couldn’t unlock his jaw enough to say a word.

Rage pumped through his veins, and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He didn’t consider himself an angry or violent man. Those things had their time and place, but this? This was unlike anything he had ever known before.

The motherfucker had messed with his family.

Staring down at his stepfather—a man who had always been larger than life in his eyes, invincible—he saw a battered victim, flesh swollen with bruises, one hand broken, wounds festering down his arms and legs, his collarbone scored with the ugly black mark of dark magic. His werewolf healing abilities would kick into full gear once the silver processed out of his system, but for the moment, he looked like hell.

Jack’s fingers were shaking when he sat down and took Darren’s hand. Tubes and wires ran in and out of his arms and chest. Bruises mottled his face, black rings formed around his eyes.

The big wolf startled, lurching halfway up in bed before collapsing back. His eyes were wild, feral light gleaming in them.

“I’ll get the nurse,” Selina said, and ducked out of the room.

Jack leaned right into Darren’s face, despite the fangs that were fully extended. “You’re all right. Everyone is safe. Mom is on her way back from Oregon.”

His stepfather’s throat worked, and a drop of blood slid down from the puncture wounds on his neck. The blistered skin had been marked by silver. Nothing else could do that to a wolf. Guilt poured like acid through Jack’s veins. If he’d caught this vampire before now, Darren wouldn’t have been tortured, wouldn’t be in the hospital now. He’d be home, safe, just as he should be. The self-recrimination tangled with the anger—at himself, at this killer.

More than ever before, Jack understood why Selina had done whatever it took to be part of this investigation. He didn’t necessarily agree with her methods, but there was no power on earth that would hold Jack back from tracking down this bloodsucking fucker.

He’d messed with Jack’s family.

Selina returned, nurse in tow.

“Huuuh,” Darren said, squeezing Jack’s fingers with a pathetically weak grip. “Huhm ... man.”

“What?” The helplessness, the garbled speech made moisture burn at the backs of his eyes. “Don’t try to talk, Darren. Just rest up and get better.”

The wolf shook his head, his gaze locking on Jack’s face with singular focus. His face reddened with the strain of forcing out the words, and he gurgled for a moment before it became sensible. “Hu—man. He’s ... human.”

“The man who attacked you?” Selina came forward to lean over Jack’s shoulder. “He was Normal?”

Darren nodded, a sigh whistling out of his throat. Relief flashed across his face, and he relaxed against the pillows. The nurse bustled over and checked his vital signs, wrote things down on his chart, gave him a shot that had him unconscious in moments. “He needs to rest. For some reason his healing abilities seem to have stopped, even though we’ve pulled all the silver out of him. We’re trying to stabilize him, so upsetting him and questioning him about what happened is a bad idea right now.”

“I wasn’t questioning him.” But Jack’s thoughts went reeling. Human. Not a vampire. A Normal.

Everything they’d thought, everything they’d assumed, had been wrong. They had to go back over every inch of evidence. He rose to his feet, staggered a bit, and glanced at Selina.

Her keys were already in her hand. “You can stay with Darren if you want to; I can handle this.”

Sit here and do nothing but stare at his wounded parent? “I can’t. I need to be doing something.”

“There will be agents guarding this room around the clock.” Luca piped in from his position near the door. “Peyton is at your parents’ place now, overseeing things.”

“Okay.” Selina took a breath. “Let’s check out the crime scene, then we have some work to do.”

The crime scene. Jack couldn’t seem to absorb that. His parents’ house was a crime scene. It was unreal.

Selina followed Jack down the hall to the elevator. She punched the call button. His throat worked for a long moment before he spoke. “He’s been my father for over twenty years.”

“I know.” She slipped her fingers into his. It broke her work rules while all those agents guarding the door watched them. She could feel their gazes burning into her back. “He’s going to be okay.”

She said it because it was what people say during times like this, but she hoped it was true. If a wish could become a spell, she prayed this one had. She liked his parents. They didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“He took me to baseball games when I was a teenager. Just him and me. He was there for my high school and college graduations. He was there for me when Heather ...” Swallowing hard, he shook his head. “He didn’t try to replace my dad, he just offered me friendship. But somewhere along the way, he became as much a father to me as my biological one. I don’t ... I don’t want to lose another dad.”

The elevator car arrived, the doors swishing open. Jack let go of her hand, and his gate was jerky when he walked in to slump against the back wall. She entered more slowly, pushed the button for the first floor, and pain filled her at witnessing his.

When the doors closed, he bent forward and braced his hands on his knees. “Do you have any kids?”

She arched her eyebrows at the non sequitur. “What would make you ask that?”

Snorting, he didn’t lift his head. “I don’t know. We were talking about parents. Just talk to me so I don’t lose it.”

That made sense. Sort of. She’d humor him, though. “No, I’ve never had any children.”

“Did you ever want any?”

She shrugged, tapping her fingers on the railing that ran around the middle of the car. “I might have at some point, but ... the time never seemed right. My husband died centuries ago and I never remarried. I wouldn’t want to bring an illegitimate child into the world.”

A child like her. The stigma that came with being a bastard might not be there anymore, but it mattered to her. She couldn’t help it. She’d had to live with her mother’s shame for all of her young life.

Jack laced his fingers over the back of his head. His knuckles went white he gripped his skull so hard. “Would you want children now?”

She was going to die soon. Something else she hadn’t told him, and which he was going to hate her for, especially after what had happened to Darren. They’d gotten too close, and now Jack was going to get hurt.

“You wouldn’t like a little girl who looks like you?” His words were soft.

The picture formed in her mind, unbidden, of a chubby toddler, with tiny pointed ears and brilliant blue eyes, reaching out to be picked up and held.

Yes. Gods, yes. Something deep inside her craved that with a sharpness she hadn’t felt since she was married and hoping to have babies. Selina blinked, shoving the thought away with violent insistence.

“I’m not going to have any children.”

He pushed himself upright, his eyes red-rimmed and blood-shot. “Could you, if you wanted to?”

“Magickals stop aging physically for the middle centuries of their lives, but I’m past that and I’m starting to get older.” Her face had looked like she was in her late twenties since she was that age. But whatever magic had held her in stasis had released its grip and she appeared in her late thirties, early forties. She’d have kept aging like a Normal ... if she weren’t going to kick the bucket. “If you figure where I’d be in a Normal’s reproductive lifespan, then yes. It would be feasible for me to bear offspring for another few years.”

“Good.”

No, it wasn’t. She didn’t want to be having this conversation with him. There were no babies in her future. There was no Jack in her future. There was nothing good in her future. Time for a topic change. “Let’s focus on the case. How sure are we that Darren’s senses were right?”

“I’ve never had a reason to doubt them.” Jack drew in a deep breath, stepping out of the elevator to walk out to her car. “If Darren says he’s human, then the son of a bitch is a Normal.”

She nodded. “Well, this is a lot more to go on than I had when he got away from me the first time.”

“The one who got away,” Jack murmured to himself, his brows furrowing.

A Normal, not a vampire. The memory of Gregor’s face filled her mind, the way he’d flinched when Delta mentioned Normals. At the time, Selina had thought it was over his shock at seeing the woman he’d illegally turned, but now she wasn’t so sure. Her precognition had always said Gregor was involved, although she hadn’t been sure how. She hadn’t been aware she was hunting a Normal, but she’d bet the bank that Gregor had. He might not have done any of the killing—this time—but he knew who had.

It was time to have another, more specific, chat with the genial mercenary. She turned to tell Jack, but he beat her to speech.

“It occurs to me that he might not have been the only one who got away.” He slid his hands in his pockets, still frowning.

“You think Gregor was involved?” While the vampire had gotten away with murder—literally—for years, Selina was inclined to agree with Delta. He didn’t fit the profile. This wasn’t his kind of kill.

“No, I don’t mean Gregor.” He shook his head. “I mean you.”

“I don’t follow you.” At all. What was he talking about?

“What, you think it’s a coincidence that my stepfather was attacked? Or that your cousin was murdered?” He lifted his eyebrows. “He knows we’re tracking him. He knows who we are.”

She waved her hand. “It had occurred to me. I mean, it could have been coincidence with my cousin, but Darren, too? No, you’re right.”

“So, what if you were the fifth murder in New Orleans? The one who didn’t happen? What if you’re the reason there were only four deaths there?” He waited for her to respond, but she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. “You said yourself you’re as much a potential victim as anyone else because you married a Normal.”

That possibility had never occurred to her. It probably should have. “I ...”

The car came into view, and Selina pushed the button to pop the locks. They crawled inside and Jack continued with his theory while she pulled out of the parking garage. “It seems a little too easy that he would appear in a city that has a Magickal detective in it he’d studied up on. Delta said he researches his victims until he feels he knows them. So he thinks he knows you. It wouldn’t take an idiot to figure you’d probably end up on this case, since you worked it before, or that you’d want a piece of him. He killed your cousin, and I think he might be back in Seattle to finish what he started thirty years ago. I think you’re the one who got away for him, too.”

Not for long. Shit. She had to tell him. Dread gathered in a pool in her belly, curdling until she feared she might actually vomit. Again. Maybe this was for the best. He might hate her, but it was better than caring for her and having her die on him. Cut ties now, give them both the opportunity to walk away from this thing they had while there was still a chance. The reasoning just made her feel ... empty.

She stared straight ahead, unable to look at him while she did it. “Jack, I need to tell you something else. This isn’t the right time for it, but there really isn’t a right time.”

“What?”

Just do it. Just say it. “Whether I’m the one who got away or not, he’s still going to kill me.”

There was a long, very pregnant pause. His voice was deadly soft. “What did you say?”

A chill skittered down her spine, and she swallowed hard, her heart hammering in sickening thumps. “Merek had a prophecy a year ago that I would die on the job. Now. I figured it would just be a bust gone wrong. It happens. I didn’t figure it would be my worst nightmare dragging me back into hell. But it is. So this is it. My last case. Because I’m going to die.”

“Merek brought you back into this case, knowing it would kill you?” His hands clenched on the strap of his seat belt, strangling the fabric. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she drove. “You had to know I would have heard about a string of murders in town and I would have asked around about it. Law enforcement has more gossip than a bunch of high school cheerleaders.”

If anything, his voice got even quieter. “And you didn’t tell me about this until now ... why?”

“I figured it was no one’s business but mine.” She winced, knowing how well he’d take that considering how he’d reacted to her keeping the Bess information from him.

“I thought we were past piling on the bullshit, Selina.” He turned his head to look at her.

She shook her head, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I never lied to you, Jack.”

That was the wrong thing to say. He slapped his hand against the dashboard. “You never told me the truth either! You’ve been keeping shit from me this entire investigation.”

“None of it changed anything about how the case would go. It was all my personal shit.” Her palms were slick with clammy sweat on the steering wheel as she wended her way through the deserted Seattle streets. His anger was a palpable force in the car, and she couldn’t even blame him. She braced herself, knowing this beautiful thing they’d had was going to end. One more thing she had to let go of. Ice stole through her veins, leaving her cold and exhausted.

“Our relationship was personal, too, Selina. We’re not just working together.”

“I know. I should have broken things off a long time ago.” She would never forgive herself for letting it go so long that he got hurt. She’d go into the afterlife kicking her own ass for this. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she blinked, refusing to let them fall. This was her own fault. She didn’t deserve to cry about it. “I should never have let it go past that first night.”

His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut so hard she heard his teeth clack together. “That’s what you have to say to me? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Her limbs trembled, and she was grateful when she pulled to a stop at the curb in front of his parents’ place. A half-dozen cars were out front, blue lights still flashing, caution tape cordoning off the house, officers and agents swarming the place looking for evidence. She forced herself to twist in her seat and face Jack. “Now you see why I said this wasn’t a good time for me to get involved with anyone.”

Even under the weak light of the streetlamp and the strobelike flashing from the police cars, she could see his face was flushed with anger. “Yeah, but you neglected to mention it was because you’re planning to die. You had no right to keep your personal shit from me when it even remotely touched the case I’m working on. You should have told me about Bess and you should have told me about you.”

She threw up her hands. “If I’d told you everything, you’d have yanked me off the case.”

“You’re damn right I would!”

He still could. Officially anyway. “Try it, and I’ll still work the case. You can’t keep me from it, and there’s nothing you can threaten me with that will stop me. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Yeah, because in your mind, you’re already dead. Of course you have nothing to lose! Jesus Christ, Selina.” He shoved a hand through his hair, gripping the strands tight.

“Try to keep in mind that I didn’t have to tell you this. There was no file from New Orleans that would have clued you in.” Her voice shook, tremors running through her body. “It was my choice to trust you with it.”

“Trust.” He laughed, and it almost sounded like a sob.

“I wanted to give you a chance to accept it, like I have. I wanted to give you the chance to say good-bye. I didn’t want to just die on you.” She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep from flying apart. It was better if he walked away now. It was better if he hated her. She hated herself for having put them in this situation.

“Jesus Christ.” He swiped at his eyes and blew out a breath. “I can’t believe this is happening again.”

Gods, this was so much worse than she’d ever imagined. “I’m not Heather. I’m not killing myself.”

“You’re not exactly fighting to hold on either.” The leather upholstery squeaked when he turned toward to her.

She huffed out a breath. “How old was she?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Yeah, I’m four hundred and forty-one, Jack. No one’s going to say ‘she died so young—it’s such a tragedy.’ I’ve had a long, long life. I’ve done a lot of things, known a lot of people, and loved my share of them. Hated a few, too. You name it, I’ve probably done it, or thought about it and decided against it. I’ve had the time to consider everything you can possibly imagine.” The gods knew she’d thought about Merek’s prophecy for the last year and had some time to come to grips with it. “I’ve traveled the world, had about fourteen different careers on three different continents. I’ve done extreme shit, I’ve slept with a lot of men, I’ve been married and been widowed. What more could I ask for in life? Nothing. I couldn’t ask for more than what I’ve had, and I think I’ve made the most of the time I’ve gotten.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she could see veins throbbing at his temple. “I don’t want you to die. I just ... holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening again.”

“I’m not her, Jack. I’m not.” She wanted to reach for him, but she had no right. It was all she could do to keep her teeth from chattering, she was so damn cold. “I’m not planning to kill myself. This is more ... terminal disease than suicide. The end is coming. It’s not by my hand, but it is inevitable. Try to accept that. I have.”

“No.” He shoved his face into hers, his blue eyes blazing pure fire. “No. I won’t accept it. I’ll never accept it. So don’t ask it of me.”

She drew in a shuddery breath. “Okay, I won’t. That doesn’t change anything.”

“Fine,” he snapped, throwing himself back in his seat. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Go home, Selina. Peyton and I can handle this scene without you. I’m not taking you off the case, but I don’t want to see you right now. Get the hell out of my sight.”

Hauling himself out of the car, he slammed the door behind him. He didn’t look back as he walked away. She made herself put the vehicle in gear and press her foot on the gas pedal. Something inside shattered, and she felt as frozen as she had when Bess died. There really was nothing left for her now. Just the case. Just catching this murderer. It was better this way.

Maybe if she said it enough, she’d believe it.

14

Another woman who wanted to die. How could he have found two of them? The irony of it made Jack snort, and hot moisture stung his eyes. He strode up the walkway to his parents’ front door, away from Selina and the pain that ate him up inside.

He slammed his way into the house. The door closed behind him so hard, it set the doorbell gongs off, and he couldn’t help but hear it as the death knell on their relationship.

How morbidly fitting.

Peyton turned when he entered, his gaze going from Jack to the door and back again. “Everything okay?”

“Not one thing, actually.” His stepfather, Selina, a killer still at large. It was too much to handle at once. Jack felt like his head was going to explode. He clamped down on the emotions battering at him. Every time he thought about Selina, he wanted to put his fist through something. His hands actually shook with the need, and he clenched his fingers to stop from giving in to the urge. How could she so casually walk into her own death? He’d put his life on the line before, so he understood that came with the profession, but what Selina was doing? It was a suicide mission for her, whether she chose to acknowledge it or not. It was one thing to know the killer was gunning for her—Jack had pointed out as much to her—it was something else to calmly acquiesce to it.

It all circled back to this killer. This Normal who pretended to be a vampire. He wanted to rip the bastard’s head off. If he did that, maybe Selina wouldn’t be his last victim. Jack’s heart stilled. He forced himself to think logically. She’d said this was a vision Merek had had, but Jack had seen Merek’s visions change depending on the decisions people made. It was possible to alter them. How much, Jack didn’t know, but he knew he had to try. Selina might readily accept her death, but he refused to. If there was a way to stop this, he wanted to find it.

He had to track down their killer before the killer tracked down Selina. She might be involved in the hunt—there was no way he could stop her, and he wasn’t stupid enough to try—but that didn’t mean he was going to stand aside and watch her die.

“Laramie.” Peyton’s hand closed over his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. “If you need to go home or be with your family now, I can handle this.”

Right, like sitting alone with nothing but his own thoughts to drive him crazy was going to help anything. Jack shook his head. “No, I’m here. Let’s do this.”

His parents’ home was in shambles. Everything that could be smashed or broken had been. He’d bet his annual salary that nothing had been stolen. It had just been destroyed. Systematically. There were holes in the walls, windows shattered, smashed furniture, broken dishes, slashed mattresses. Everything that had made this house a home was gone.

A shudder of revulsion went through him as he walked from room to room. Splashed across the debris was his stepfather’s blood, and the heavy stench of it made his insides twist.

“This one was different.” He coughed and looked up at the ceiling so he didn’t have to view the wreckage for a second. “He never touched anything but the victims at the other crime scenes.”

“Of course, this is different.” Tess stepped out of his parents’ bedroom, sealing something into a plastic bag. “This is personal.”

Peyton slipped his hands in his pockets, but his gaze kept going back to Jack. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d think the wolf was worried about him. “He’s sending you—us—a message. He can get to us, and none of us are safe. If we keep pursuing him, it’s our loved ones who will die.” He sighed. “Or it’s us who will die.”

Jack’s teeth ground together as he fought lashing out at the other man. It was the last thing he wanted to hear. Peyton was right, he knew that. Logically. But this was madness. He wanted to hunt this fucker down and rip him apart limb by limb. “You’re damn right, it’s personal.”

“I know.”

Jack’s fists balled and unballed at his sides. “You’re not going to argue with me, tell me not to let him get to me, because that’s what he wants?”

“No. You already know all that. In the end, it doesn’t mean shit.” Peyton’s eyes sparked with feral light. “It’s personal, and we’re still going to nail this asshole.”

“Thanks, man.” He clapped a hand on the wolf’s shoulder.

“We protect our own,” Peyton said simply. “And, in a way, his extra effort to send us a message is what saved your stepfather. One of your neighbors saw the broken windows and called the cops. The killer had to flee before he could finish the job.”

“Thank God for nosy neighbors.” Tess managed a small smile. She and Peyton still looked a little pale from the full moon the night before, but they’d survived and they were here. Jack was grateful for that. Tess tilted her head. “There is something that you should see, though.”

Jack snorted. “There’s something better than this?”

“Better is such a relative term,” she retorted drily. “Cavalli called Peyton to let him know about the Normal thing, and that’s when the shield spell issue came to us.”

“How would a Normal get through a security spell?” Of course. They’d assumed the man was a Magickal. They’d had their doubts that a vampire would be able to cast a spell powerful enough to punch through one, but they had assumed the darkness of the man had made up for any lack of casting abilities that vampires might have. That assumption just got blown out of the water. “I don’t buy that every single Magickal he’s attacked has happened to leave their shields down that night. With Mathison, it was unlikely, and I’ve never once known Darren to forget. How would this Normal even be able to tell if they were up or not? I know I can’t sense it. Not really, and I know what I’m looking for.”

Peyton nodded. “Exactly the questions we started asking after we got off the phone.”

“Come look at this.” Tess gestured them both forward and led the way over to one of the windows. “This is where we think he got in.”

They picked their way through the rubble and looked at what she pointed to. It was a piece of brass nailed to the window frame. Jack frowned at it. It looked something like a mezuzah that Jewish people affixed to their door frames. These went on every exterior door and window in the house, creating a magical network that blocked entry from anyone with evil or harmful intentions. “It looks like the bespelled objects I had Mathison install at my house. For security.”

Peyton’s gesture was impatient. “Yeah, look closer.”

Squatting down, Jack brought himself to eye level with the thing. There were dark smudges on it, as if the metal had been tarnished. Some of the brass appeared to be melted. He’d never seen anything like it, not for a bespelled object. “What could do this?”

There was a long silence, and Jack glanced up to see Tess and Peyton exchanging a significant glance. From the way she gestured, Jack figured the two wolves were speaking telepathically.

“Anyone want to clue me in?”

It was in one of Tess’s textbooks, or I wouldn’t even have thought of it. Peyton’s voice filled Jack’s head. I helped her study when she was in training to go from Normal medical examination to Magickal. We think the guy has a cursed object.

Jack snorted. “Those are just myths. The Elven Assembly banned them something like a hundred years ago, collected all of them up and destroyed them. My understanding is they even destroyed the texts on how to make them.”

Do you have a better idea? Tess arched her eyebrows. Because this looks a lot like what my book said that cursed objects could do. Suck magic out of people and things. It explains how he can overpower werewolves. It explains how a human could leave the mark of dark magic on his victims.

The truth was, Jack couldn’t think of a better explanation for what they were dealing with. No matter what angle he looked at, the answer was preposterous. Even if this human had a fanged accomplice, vampires couldn’t cast well enough to break through a solid spell shield. And would another kind of Magickal be steeped in vampire lore and rituals for their killings? He had his doubts. What Tess and Peyton had come up with made the most sense to him, too.

Tess folded her arms over her chest. “I’m a werewolf, so I can’t cast well, and I had something like this installed at my place, too. These have to be magically recharged by my security company every seven years. Or so the warranty says. I assume cursed objects have similar properties as bespelled ones, so how is he powering the thing?”

If it was a cursed object this Normal had, then the answer seemed obvious to Jack. “The killings. How dark they are. That’s what charges it, gives power to the curse. It’s sucking the magic out of the Magickal victims.” He searched his memory. “The longest he’d gone between killings is seven years. The first gap from New Orleans to the next city. Every other gap has grown shorter.”

Grunting, Peyton glanced at the destruction around them. “He loses the object, he loses his power over magic-wielders.”

“Let’s see if we can talk to Darren. He might have seen something.” Rising to his feet, Jack brushed his hands off on his pants. “I’d like him to confirm this for us, so we’re not just taking shots in the dark like we have been for weeks.”

They were getting closer. The pieces were beginning to click into place. It was the most hopeful news Jack had had in a long time. Then he blinked at Tess. “There’s no dead body. What are you doing here?”

She lifted her chin. “I was with Peyton, and when we got the call that there’d been another one, we assumed I’d be needed.” Her shoulder dipped in a shrug. “I’ve just been helping collect evidence. One of the guys will give me a lift in to the lab. You go talk to your stepdad. Tell him he needs to get better and take over the pack before I kick the Alpha’s ass myself.”

Coughing into his fist, Peyton tried to cover a laugh.

“Nice.” Jack grinned. “Darren will love that.”

The ride back to the hospital was creepy, fog lacing its way through the streets, making the night appear ghostly. Peyton drove, since Jack didn’t have his car with him. Not having his car dragged his thoughts back to Selina. Jesus, what was he going to do about her? Uncovering a new clue had distracted him for a while, but this was like a slow-leaking wound he wasn’t sure would ever heal. She was planning to die. A shaft of agony pierced him. She’d given up on life, and he’d bet it was right around when her cousin was killed. It was obvious she’d blamed herself, had systematically isolated herself from being emotionally involved with anyone ever since, severing the ties that gave people reasons to live. Jack could see it so clearly because in the same situation, he might have done the same. If he hadn’t had his family when Heather had died, if he’d been as alone as Selina, he might have taken the steps she had to avoid that kind of pain ever again. Hell, he had to some extent. With women. Selina had done it with everyone.

Neither of them had planned it, but they were emotionally involved. It wouldn’t hurt this bad to think of her dying if she meant nothing to him. Instead it felt like the fires of hell were roasting him alive—he couldn’t even think, couldn’t breathe when it came to contemplating losing her. Not when he’d just found her. He couldn’t give this up. He would never again find a woman who fit him this perfectly. He would do whatever it took to save her.

“We’re here.” Peyton nudged his shoulder, and Jack jolted back to awareness.

They climbed out of the vehicle and walked into Harborview, heading for the Magickal ward. The trip seemed less endless than it had earlier, when all he could think about was getting to his stepfather. The guards were still at the door when they reached Darren’s room, but Luca had disappeared.

“Jack?” His mother half-rose from her seat beside Darren’s bed.

He pulled her in and hugged her tight. “Hey, Mom.”

“Angela.” Peyton nodded to her when Jack stepped back. “How are you holding up?”

Her lips trembled and she shook her head. “Not good.”

Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. Jack put an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “He’s going to be okay, Mom. You know he’s a tough SOB. He’ll pull through this just fine.”

She nodded fiercely, swiping at the tears. “I know it. I know he’ll be fine. I already told him when he woke up that under no circumstances is he allowed to die on me. He always makes sure I get what I want.”

That made Jack chuckle, though a band of emotion tightened around his chest. His mother had already lost a husband, just as he’d already lost a father. It was too much to ask them to do it again. “Yeah, he does. You’re spoiled rotten.”

She sniffed. “Every woman should be.”

“We need to ask Darren a few questions.” Peyton stepped forward to look the big wolf over. “Do you think he’s up to it?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Darren rasped, his eyes opening. They were bloodshot, but he appeared far more lucid than he had earlier. Some of the bruises had already begun to fade and his skin had more color. That more than anything made Jack sigh with relief.

Jack slid into the seat his mother had abandoned and took Darren’s hand. “We’re going to try to keep this to yes or no questions, so you can nod or shake your head instead of talk.”

One of his stepfather’s eyebrows arched, and his lips curved in the ghost of a smile, but he nodded.

Peyton came up and set his hand on the bed railing. “When you were attacked, did he have something in his hand?” He pointed to the dark mark on Darren’s collarbone. “Something he pressed to your skin there?”

A nod.

“Did you see what it was?”

He shook his head.

“It was blurry, right? Like something you couldn’t focus on?”

Another nod.

“But it was dark, wasn’t it? Black magic.” Peyton leaned forward, his voice lowering as he cast a glance back at Angela. She was going to overhear whether any of them wanted her to or not. She was a werewolf. “It felt evil and when it touched you, all the magic was ripped from you, and you felt like you’d been stripped and violated.”

Darren’s eyes squeezed closed and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His chin dipped down in a single, sharp nod.

“Fuck.” Jack tightened his grip on his stepfather’s hand. “A cursed object.”

“Yeah.” Peyton’s gaze met Jack’s. “That’s how the book described how it feels.”

Darren looked at them, a question in his gaze. “The elves destroyed them.”

His voice was thin and reedy, but it was there.

Nodding, Jack sighed. “We’ll have to contact the Elven Assembly to see if they have some kind of expert to test our theory, but apparently they missed one. And this Normal has it.”

Feeling weary and battered, Selina drove through the foggy night, heading back to Jack’s place to get Grim. She was fairly certain Jack wouldn’t want to have to deal with her for that handover, since he couldn’t even look at her right now. He saw suicidal Heather when he looked at her now, not someone who’d run out of luck and time, who’d had more than her fair share of years, and who needed to save innocent people from a killer, no matter what the personal cost. On the one hand, she understood his side of things, how his past colored how he saw her. It hurt, but she understood. On the other hand, she was pissed. He was just going to send her away without listening to her side? He couldn’t even look at her now? Fuck that. Fuck him.

It might not be rational, but she fed the anger because if she dwelled on the pain, she’d be in a fetal position, rocking and crying in her lonely bed for the rest of the day. Week. Month. She sucked in a deep breath and told herself to get on with it. Her responsibilities hadn’t changed just because Jack was done with her.

She had a killer to catch, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

Pulling to a stop at a red light, she flipped on her blinker to go right to Jack’s house. Then she flicked it off again and went straight when the light turned green. Her precognition vibrated to life, telling her that Grim had walked himself home instead of remaining at Jack’s.

A sigh of relief slipped out of her. Gods bless her familiar. She really hadn’t wanted to deal with getting into Jack’s house, looking at the rumpled bed where they’d made love all day the day before, where he’d held her while she cried out her heartbreak at losing Bess, allowing the grief to escape for the first time.

She stuffed that memory away, so sweet and so bitter, and focused on the task before her. Her bag was on the floor behind her seat, and she needed to make a call. Instead of reaching behind her and maybe swerving her car all over the road like some idiot, she twitched her fingers and summoned her phone to her hand. She narrowed her eyes at it, and it flipped open and scrolled through the numbers until it came to Mildred Standish. “Dial.”

It did, and within two rings, she had an answer. The tart voice of the imperious head of the Standish family piped through the speakerphone. “Hello?”

Selina dropped the phone on the middle console, and kept her gaze glued to the road. “Hi, Millie. It’s Selina Grayson.”

A soft sigh came through the line. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you soon.”

“I need to get in touch with Gregor.” Silence answered that and Selina arched her eyebrows. “He’s made it clear that there’s no—how did he put it?—wet work involved in this job, and I’m assuming that whatever you have him doing is entirely aboveboard and legitimate. The city of Seattle thanks you for giving him honest work.”

“You’re laying it on quite thick, Detective Grayson. How droll.” Millie’s tone was both dry and resigned.

“Why, thank you. It’s nice to have people notice when you put in a little effort.” She couldn’t help a grin. She was fairly certain she was older than Millie, but the woman’s speech patterns hadn’t left the Victorian era.

“Very well. Gregor is making some inquiries for me,” Millie muttered, “at the Vampire Conclave.”

Spying on the other Magickal leaders, was she? Now that was ballsy. Selina chuckled. “I hope you’ve gotten the answers you wanted, because I’m not sure how long my interrogation is going to take.”

“That will be very inconvenient for me.”

“He has information about the man who murdered my cousin.” If there was anything a Standish understood, it was family loyalty, so Selina played her trump card. The last thing she needed was the powerful witch interfering.

There was a long pause, then a small sigh. “He should be at the Conclave headquarters now, doing some surveillance on who is coming and who is going. Until dawn at least—he is a vampire, after all. Good luck catching him. I am afraid that is beyond my control.”

“I appreciate your help. Enjoy the rest of your night.” She hung up and checked the clock on the dashboard. Not quite four in the morning. There were still a couple of hours until dawn. Good. She floated her phone up to eye level. “Call Delta Dubois.”

She really should get one of those fancy phones that would auto-dial by voice command so she didn’t have to use her magic, but she’d just never gotten around to it. Too late now, right?

“This better be a booty call from a hot man, or I’m hangin’ up on you.” Delta’s accent was even thicker than normal and groggy with sleep.

Selina chuckled. “Don’t you bloodsuckers stay up all night and sleep during the day?”

“Grayson.” Delta groaned, and the line rustled as she moved around. “What can I do for you?”

“I need to bring Gregor in for questioning again. Care to help me catch him?”

There was a long pause. “Peyton and Laramie and you seemed to do just fine last time.”

“Jack’s father was attacked a few hours ago. He’s alive but in rough shape.” She sent another prayer up to any deity who’d listen that the big wolf pulled through.

“He survived? Well, thank goodness for small miracles.” A whoosh of relief crackled through the phone.

“Your profile’s going to need a tweak.” She braked for a stop sign. “He says our guy is a Normal, not a vamp.”

“A Normal? Then how in hell is he managing to—”

“I don’t know,” Selina interrupted. “But I’d like to ask him that myself.”

Delta sighed. “How’s Jack holdin’ up?”

“About as well as anyone could expect. He’s not going to be available to give me a hand with Gregor, and Peyton’s dealing with the crime scene. So I called you.” Partial truths, at best, but she needed help. She wasn’t dumb enough to go after the vamp alone. Someone with vampiric speed and who freaked Gregor out would be a good choice. “Our favorite mercenary is spying on his own over at the Conclave headquarters. A good street to meet—”

“I’ll find you. I know your smell. You so owe me for this.” The line went dead.

Selina pushed the END button on the phone and turned onto her street. She parked in the driveway, not bothering with the garage. She wasn’t staying. Crawling out, she jogged toward the front door.

Grim launched himself out of the bushes beside the porch, barking madly. He spun in a circle, snapping at shadows and drifts of fog. She stumbled back, her arms pinwheeling before she fell on her ass. Hard. All the air whooshed from her lungs, and her back bowed as her tailbone made impact with the ground. She wrapped an arm around her ribs and wheezed while Grim continued to spaz out, snarling at nothing.

She narrowed her eyes, widening her senses to see if she could pick up on any Magickal beings around. Some people could cast invisibility spells. Her pistol was in the car, so she revved up her magic, felt it sluice through her in a warm rush, ready to be directed. She cupped her palm and shined a beam of light over the house and yard as if it were a flashlight. Nothing.

A creeping sense of dread filled her as Grim ran in circles around her, barked and howled, whimpered and cowered. She shook her head. There was nothing there. She couldn’t sense anything. Not with her physical senses, not with her magic. She cut off the light spell and reached for her familiar’s collar to tug him toward her vehicle. “Come on, Grim. I need to go talk to someone. I was going to have you hunt with me, but I think you can just guard the car.”

She urged Grim into the passenger’s seat and closed the door behind him. She did one last scan of the area and checked the shield spells on her property. Nothing out of place. Still, a shiver ran over her skin and a headache bloomed between her eyes as Grim barked. She strode around the car and climbed in the driver’s side. She had a date with Gregor. It was unlikely he stayed in one place very long once a job was done. She’d been hoping Grim could help her and Delta, but she doubted it now. Ah, well, they’d figure it out.

The Vampire Conclave wasn’t far from Millie Standish’s place, in one of the posh old mansions in Upper Queen Anne, so Selina wove through the deserted streets to get there, hoping Gregor was still doing surveillance when she arrived.

The drive seemed to settle Grim, and he relaxed in his seat, calming down. She reached over and scratched him under the chin. “How you doing over there?”

He gave a small woof and turned in the seat, pressing his nose to the passenger window and smearing the glass. Wonderful. She sighed and took the hint to roll it down for him. He hung his head out, tongue lolling in the breeze.

Parking a few blocks from the Conclave’s headquarters, she reached into the back for her bag. She’d stuffed her badge and gun in there before she’d run out of Jack’s house with him earlier. She checked the clip to make sure it was full—she doubted she’d need to shoot Gregor, but she would if she had to. One bullet wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it might slow him down enough to capture him. She’d do what was necessary.

“All right, Grim. I’ll leave the window down for you. Stay in the car.”

He gave a little growl and pawed at the door handle.

“What, you want to come with me now?” She strapped her spare pistol to her ankle. “A few minutes ago, you were freaking out over shadows.”

A small whine was his reply, and he scratched the door again.

She sighed, leaning forward to tuck her cuffs in the holder at the small of her back. “You’re not going to stay in the car if I leave you here, are you? Even if I roll up the window and lock the door.”

He barked, and she took that for an affirmation.

“All right, but if you spaz out on me again, you’re in trouble.”

Covering his nose with his paw, he made a shamed rumble.

Punching the button to slide up his window, she opened her door and Grim hopped over the seats to follow her out.

“We’re hunting a vampire named Gregor. He’s very dangerous. Even more dangerous than most vamps. He’s spying on the Conclave for the witches. I need him in one piece to answer questions. No ripping out anyone’s throat.” She gave Grim a very pointed look. “No craziness. Got it?”

The dog issued an offended snort as if his antics twenty minutes before hadn’t happened and he’d never had a nutty moment in his life. She rolled her eyes. Familiars.

“Nice night for a stroll, isn’t it?” Delta appeared out of the mist. She held a heavy Beretta in one hand.

“Yep. All this fog is refreshing.” Selina throttled down on her magic, stuffing it deep down inside her. The less she emanated, the less likely she was to be noticed. With any luck, the Conclave vampires would take her for a Normal.

She glanced around, but Grim had disappeared. “Grim?”

A growl sounded at her knee, and she felt him lean into her, but she couldn’t see him. Invisibility wasn’t her strong suit, so she didn’t even try. She stroked her familiar’s invisible body and nodded to Delta.

“Let’s go hunting.”

She heard his nails click against the cement as he took off at a run, leaving her behind. Hopefully, he’d give them an advantage. Delta motioned that she was going to break right on the next block, and Selina nodded. She continued trotting down the street at a swift clip, holding her pistol against her thigh.

It was still a couple of blocks from the Conclave when she spotted a bright shock of red hair sticking out from the bottom of a black beanie cap. The distinct ginger shade gleamed under a streetlight. He had his car door halfway open, and he froze when he saw her. She brought her weapon up and leveled it on him. Battle fever sharpened her senses, and she stopped bothering to hide her magic. Her awareness expanded, heat humming through her muscles. “Going somewhere so early, Gregor? I didn’t know you lived around here.”

“A constitutional stroll before dawn, Detective. That’s all.” His voice was cheerful, but his body tensed as if he were contemplating going vampire super-speed on her.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” She shifted her gun to one hand, pointing her other hand to him. Magic crackled in her palm, sending off a small spark. More than she should do in public, but not many Normals would be out at this time of night. “I can shoot you or fry you, but I’m bringing you in.”

“And I’m helping her.” Delta stepped out from behind a tree on Selina’s right, gun aimed at Gregor’s head. “You don’t want to hit girls, do you, sugar?”

He flinched when he saw the blonde. “May I ask what this is about?”

“I have some more questions for you. They aren’t even about a crime you committed.” Selina motioned him away from the car. Adrenaline flooded her veins, making her heart pound. He was going to run, she could see it in his eyes. “What do you have to be scared of?”

He blanched and launched himself over the top of his car. Delta took two strides and sailed after him, moving almost too fast for Selina’s gaze to track. Selina planted her free hand on the hood of his car and slid across, hit her feet, and pelted down the street after them. Delta had caught Gregor around the waist and dragged him to the ground.

They hissed at each other, fangs bared, rolling across the asphalt as each tried to get the upper hand. Fog swirled around them, blocking the view of any humans who might be nearby. Selina squinted to see through it, considering and discarding a dozen spells. Most would hurt Delta as much as Gregor. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She dodged around the combatants until she got a clear shot and fired a bolt of lightning that struck the big male vampire. He shrieked in pain, and Delta winced away from the sound.

Shoving her off of him, she flew backward and slammed into a parked SUV. Selina hit him with another bolt before he could regain his feet. “Give up, Gregor. You’re coming in.”

He hissed, his eyes flashing red, and he kicked out to sweep her feet out from under her. She hit her side hard, her pistol skittering across the pavement. Ignoring it, she scrambled after the vampire. If he escaped, they’d never see him again. Her pulse raced, but she managed to catch his calf and held on for dear life. He lashed backward, his heel catching her in the chest.

Every bit of oxygen wheezed from her lungs, and dark spots swam in front of her vision. Her grip on his leg slipped, and her eyes watered as pain bloomed in her torso. She was going to black out.

With her last thought, she shot a stunning spell up his leg. He stumbled but still slipped away from her.

Moments, minutes later, she blinked, coughed, and jolted upright, her chest protesting the movement. Grunts and shouts sounded in the distance and she forced herself to her feet, breaking into a shambling trot and following the noise.

Delta had managed to catch him again, and she tore into Gregor while he tried to fend her off. They both had bloody noses and sported various bite marks where fangs had struck. Moving faster than Selina could see, he suddenly had his hands around Delta’s throat, lifting her off her feet, and she choked and gurgled. Then his eyes widened and he dropped her, backing away. “Delta, I ...”

An earsplitting howl pierced the night, and Grim materialized midair. His jaw snapped around Gregor’s arm, digging in and shaking the vampire like a rag doll. The familiar wrenched him to the ground, and blood poured from the broken flesh. Gregor struck out, but his blows seemed to glance off of Grim and never quite hit. A shield spell. Bucking upward, Gregor tried to dislodge his canine attacker, but Grim went with the movement, biting and snarling. His teeth shredded the vampire’s flesh. Selina had only seen him like this once before, the night she’d met him, before he’d become her familiar. It was scary.

Delta recovered her weapon from the ground and danced in a circle around the fight, trying get a bead on Gregor. “A little help here, O Elfish One?”

“Gregor, put your hands over your head so I can cuff you, or I’m not calling him off!” Selina pulled her handcuffs out of their holder and waited for the vampire to comply.

He did, cursing and still kicking, but unable to get the dog off of him. Her fingers shook and sweat poured down her face to sting her eyes, but she snapped the metal around his wrists. She left him there to bleed while she wrapped her fingers around Grim’s collar and used her own magic to blast him away. She didn’t worry that he’d turn on her, but her heart pounded at the sounds he made, those of a wild animal.

“Settle down, Grim. We got him. Good boy.” She stroked his fur while he vibrated with rage, growling at Gregor. She sent waves of calm out to him, magic to bring him down off the ledge.

“Get up,” Delta rasped, jerking her weapon at the big vampire. “Time to go for a little ride.”

He crawled to his feet, his hands bound before him. “Did I hurt you?”

“It’s several decades too late to ask that question.” Her gaze slitted, her eyes flashing red. “Start walking, and I swear if you try to run again, I’ll load you up with enough bullets to make sure you don’t heal.”

“I didn’t have to let you live. Then or now. Think about that.” Sighing, he turned in the direction she’d pointed him.

She snorted. “Yeah, you’re all heart.”

Selina put her hand out and dredged up a summoning spell. “Gun.”

Her weapon winged through the air and slapped into her palm. She made sure she stayed between her familiar and Gregor as they escorted him to her car. With a thought, she opened the back door and then sealed him in. He’d have to cast one hell of a spell to get out of there, and vampires didn’t have that ability. Grim squeezed into the center of the front, turning to snap at Gregor. Fortunately, the spell that kept Gregor in also kept Grim out. Both women flopped into the front seats, sighing in relief.

Gregor slid to the middle of the backseat, wincing only a little as Grim growled at him. “Sorry about that, ladies. You understand I had to try.”

Glancing into the rearview mirror, Selina arched her eyebrows. “We understand, and we still don’t like you very much right now.”

“Understatement,” Delta muttered, blowing her mussed hair out of her face. Her wounds had begun to heal themselves. The blood from the bites stopped flowing and her skin grew pink with health. She turned in her seat and kept her pistol leveled at Gregor.

Selina winced at the aches and pains that let themselves be known as she shifted the car into gear. Thankfully, it was a short drive and then she could have one of the medics Luca had on staff take care of her minor injuries.

All in all, it could have been a lot worse, considering it was Gregor.

15

“Round two of fun.” Delta plopped into the chair across from Gregor in the interrogation room.

Holding Grim off with a spell, Selina darted through the door, and closed it behind her. The room was warded against any use of magic, so hers stripped away the moment she got in. Not really ideal to lose her abilities, but necessary when holding a criminal like Gregor.

He smiled his cheerful smile. “I tried to keep us all from this, but you were very insistent.”

Plucking at one of his torn sleeves, he arched his eyebrows at them. His wounds had healed, and he had been given some of the serum vampires used to suppress the need for blood. He was fine.

“I’ll feel bad about that when you apologize for booting me in the chest.” Selina seated herself beside Delta.

Gregor kept grinning, but didn’t beg her pardon. Of course not.

“We have a few more questions for you, as we mentioned.” The blonde smirked at him. “Before you ran away like a scared little girl.”

His grin faded, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “I had nothing to do with your murders. I believe I said as much the last time we met. I can’t imagine what more I can tell you.”

Selina drummed her fingers against the table. “Oh, it wasn’t you who did it.”

“How do you know that?” He looked surprised for a second, then smoothed his expression to his usual geniality.

“Because this particular vampire isn’t a vampire at all. He’s Normal.” Delta smacked the table between them.

The redhead flinched and looked away. He blew out a breath, but didn’t say anything else.

Selina jumped into the silence. “What I’m saying is that you were at the crime scene after the fact. What I’m saying is that you know who my Normal vampire wannabe is. I’m saying that if you had manned up before now, you could have stopped innocent people from being murdered.”

He snorted. “There’s no such thing as an innocent person.”

“The man you saw? The one facedown on his bed in a pool of his own blood?” Delta leaned forward and got right in his face. “His wife is pregnant, due in a couple of months. That innocent child will never know his father now. And I blame you.”

His eyes went wide. “I didn’t kill him!”

“Not him, but there’ve been plenty of others, haven’t there?” Delta rose to her feet, swishing around the table. She put one hand on the metal surface and the other on the back of Gregor’s chair, leaning into his space. “Oh, yeah. You’ve killed dozens of people. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. It’s the only thing you’re any good at, isn’t it?”

“I have other talents. You’ve enjoyed them before.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his voice silky.

“Once.” She drew so close that her breath ruffled the hair near his ear. “But we both know how that ended, don’t we? How you almost killed me. Because that’s what you do. Isn’t it, Gregor?”

Something that almost looked like guilt flickered across his face. “Yes. That’s what I do. Are you happy now, Delta?”

“No, sugar.” Her hand slid across the table, until it almost touched his. “I’m not happy. I want you to do something worthwhile for once in your life. I want you to help me save some people.”

“I can’t. I would do anything for you, but I can’t do that.” He closed his eyes, his expression pained.

Surprise lit her violet gaze, but her chin firmed. “You feel bad about what you did to me, don’t you?”

“You know I do.” The muscles around his mouth tightened, and Selina tried to quell her triumph. A little more, and Delta would have him. She’d break him.

“Then make it up to me, sugar. Now.” Her lips brushed his ear, and the man shuddered, naked lust mixing with the shame in his gaze. “You know who did this, who killed all these poor people.”

“No, I—”

“Yes, you do,” Delta said, her voice softer than a whisper. “Tell me the truth, Gregor. You owe me that much.”

His hands shook, and he swallowed hard. “I did not kill any of your victims. That’s the truth.”

“But you could have stopped it, couldn’t you?” Selina demanded, leaning forward.

“No!”

Delta slapped her hand against the table, making them all jump. “You know who did this, and you could have stopped him if you wanted to. You let this happen. Tell me the truth, Gregor!”

“I can’t stop him.” His head bowed, and Selina could almost hear the sound of him cracking inside. “I’ve never been able to fucking stop him. He’s never listened to me. Not once in our entire goddamned lives!”

“Who?” Delta waited until he looked at her. “Who wanted to be turned and didn’t get his wish, Gregor? Who hates anyone who gets to play with magic when he doesn’t?”

“My brother,” he whispered, the words strangled out of him. “Isaak.”

She leaned back, glaring at him. “If he was Normal, he shouldn’t know anything about magic.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes, shook his head. “I may be a criminal, but even I know not to break that law. There’s a difference between those laws that’ll get you in trouble and those that will get you dead, no questions asked.”

Selina scrawled the name on her notepad. “So, why does Isaak know? How did he find out if you didn’t tell him?”

“I was ...” Gregor folded his hands in front of him on the table. “At the time, the Conclave down there wasn’t exactly ...”

“Ethical? We know.” Delta crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing further.

“Right. Right, of course you do.” He swallowed. “My brother and I were working for them for a couple of years, doing what I do now, but as Normals. We didn’t know what they were, just that they paid well. When they decided I was too useful to risk mortal death, they turned me. I was more or less willing.”

“Uh-huh.” Less was more like it, but Selina had been part of the task force that had cracked down on that Conclave in the late 1980s. Corruption, lies, murder ... and that was just the starting point. Gregor wouldn’t be the only vampire whose turning hadn’t been quite legal. Then again, he’d passed the favor along to Delta. “And that involves your brother, how?”

“He found me when I was turning.” He stared down at his hands, his gaze distant. “I got out of the Conclave leader’s house and stumbled home in this psychedelic fog. I didn’t really understand what was going on, but he found me and took care of me. He knew ... something was different. He knew I could do things I couldn’t do before. See things, hear things, react faster. He also knew the Conclave gave me better assignments, paid me better, let me deeper into their circle. He was a smart kid, and he put it together.”

Selina nodded. “And he wanted it, too.”

“Yeah. He wanted me to turn him, but I wouldn’t.” His gaze lifted to Delta when she made a derisive noise, and Selina almost thought she saw pleading in his eyes. “I couldn’t go out during the day, and the Conclave owned me. It wasn’t a job anymore. They owned me. They could force me to do anything they wanted. They told me they’d kill my brother, they could throw me out into sunlight, they could take away everything if I didn’t do exactly what they said. I refused to put anyone in my shoes. Not my brother. Not my lover.”

Delta’s jaw jutted mutinously. “One night doesn’t make you a lover. And dumping me in Atlanta doesn’t make you a nice guy.”

He shook his head. “Isaak didn’t believe me when I told him what they were like. Or he didn’t care. He just wanted to do what I could do. He ... became obsessed with vampirism and magic, learning everything he could from me about how to assassinate a Magickal and how to cover his tracks from the most enhanced senses. Every day that passed, he just got more pissed off and more bitter that I wouldn’t turn him.”

“What did the Conclave have to say about you teaching your brother about how to kill Magickals?” Selina rested her elbows on the table.

Choking on a laugh, he gave her an incredulous look. “They liked it. It made him more useful to them. All that rage inside of Isaak turned to hate when every petition he put forward to the Conclave was refused. Nothing I said could make my brother believe he should stay human. He never listens. He’s hardheaded and stubborn.” He shrugged. “The last time I saw him, he said he would prove he was strong enough to be a vampire. But he wouldn’t even have known about vampires without me.”

Selina decided to push him a little more. “He’s after me, you know.”

“You?” His eyebrows arched, genuine surprise crossing his face. “No, he’s after me.”

“You know what his pattern is, right?”

He rubbed his hand down his face. “He kills five people in one city and then he moves on.”

“He tortures them first,” Delta helpfully pointed out.

“I know.” He stared at her, and Selina had the same feeling she did when Luca watched Tess. A man eating his heart out over a woman who loathed him. She wondered if that’s how she’d look when she saw Jack again, and then slammed the lid on that thought. Her chest throbbed, and it had nothing to do with the kick she’d taken. Those wounds had been healed. Her heart was something else entirely. And now was not the time to be worrying about heartache.

“How many did he kill in New Orleans?” she asked.

“A lot.” He spread his hands. “We were assassins for the Conclave.”

She cast him a chastising glance. “I mean in his signature style. Faking being a vampire and draining them dry, leaving them dead in their own bed.”

“Four.” The answer was immediate.

“I was supposed to be the fifth.”

“Shit.” He slumped back in his chair. “I thought ... he was in Seattle for me. His last hurrah before ...”

“Before?” Selina prompted. “Before what?”

“Before he dies. The last time I talked to our mother, she told me he’s dying of a brain tumor. It’s not yet large enough to affect him, but it’s inoperable. His time’s run out.” He looked at Delta. “And he blames me, because I didn’t make him a Magickal.”

She made a disgusted noise and jerked to her feet. “I’d feel sorry for you if so many people hadn’t died because you didn’t come forward and tell anyone about how twisted your brother had become. You may not have killed those people, but you stood aside and let them die because you’re a gutless wonder who’s incapable of doing the right thing.” She turned away. “I’m gonna see what I can dig up on your brother. I’m betting he’s got a record.”

He swallowed hard when Delta slammed out the door. “I have done a lot of bad things in my life. Before and after I was turned. There are only two that I regret. My brother ever finding out about magic. And her.”

“What about her?” That he’d hurt her? That she hated him now? There was a lot of potential regret there.

He dropped his face in his hands. “I ... turned her. Accidentally.”

“You can’t accidentally turn someone.” Selina crossed her legs, leaning back in her seat.

Apparently, he was in the mood to confess things, now that they’d gotten him talking. “I accidentally almost killed her and turned her to keep her alive. We were having sex and it was just after I was turned and everything was sharper, all my senses, my needs, and I was so hungry. I turned her to save her life.”

“Without her permission.” Obviously. That much hate didn’t come from a mutual experience.

He chortled, and the sound was heartbreaking. “You know how New Orleans was back then. I didn’t need permission. But I ... I couldn’t let the Conclave have her. There was no telling what they’d do to her. Kill her, make her turn tricks for them, anything.” He let his hands drop. “I drove her to Atlanta and left her in an office building owned by the local Conclave. I knew they’d find her and hopefully help her. It was the only thing I could do for her.”

It was ... not evil. Hardly good, but not evil either. The man had a conscience. Sort of. Who knew? She never would have guessed it. She’d have slapped him more firmly in the sociopath category than anything else, but ... well, he was a mercenary, plain and simple. She’d known those types in her life. The profession had been around for centuries. Soldiers of fortune, mercenaries, legionnaires. Their loyalties could be bought, so there was no trusting them. One walked lightly around them, but she knew some of them had wives, kids, families. This vampire was no exception, apparently.

His life seemed to have been one big pile of steaming shit, and she almost pitied him for it. Except he hadn’t come forward about his brother’s sickness. He’d let people be tortured; he’d let people die. He’d let Bess die. He’d let Darren be tortured with silver. For that, she’d never forgive him.

Delta pushed the door open, a thick sheaf of printouts in her hand. Grim bolted through, shouldering the vampire out of the way. Selina and Delta dove to get a grip on his collar while he went absolutely fucking nuts. There was no other way to describe it. He stood himself up on his hind legs, trying to pull against the collar, snapping his jaws, foaming at the mouth, barking loudly enough to puncture eardrums.

After a few minutes, Delta and Selina wrestled Grim down. “My familiar seems to have a particular dislike for you, Gregor. Have you two met before?”

Grim howled while Gregor winced and looked away. “I saw that dog and another one with the same freaky eyes ... they tried to maul us the night I dragged Isaak’s ass out of New Orleans. I told him not to come back or the Conclave would kill him for doing work off the books.”

“Off the books.” A nice way of saying he’d been a ritualistic serial killer on the side.

She looked between the familiar and the redheaded vampire. The last time she’d seen Grim go this wild, barking at shadows and ready to tear into anything that moved was the night she and Theodore had found him, along with his sister, Boleyn, in the alley outside her apartment in New Orleans. It was only a week after Bess had died, and Selina had taken it as a kind of blessing from her cousin that a familiar had landed in her lap. A companion when her best friend had just been taken.

But ... her thoughts spun. Jack had said she was the one who got away from Isaak. If Gregor, Boleyn, and Grim were the reasons she hadn’t been attacked, that meant that Grim had had a run-in with Isaak before. And if Grim had acted this crazy tonight ... shit, she knew where the killer was. Right now.

Waiting for her.

Peyton and Jack stepped off the elevator just as his cell rang and Selina came charging out of an interrogation room, her phone pressed to her ear. His heart stopped at seeing her again. They’d spent so much time together in the last weeks that the past few hours without her around had seemed strange. But it hit him again that she planned to die, and he clenched his jaw to stop the pain. No. It was not going to happen. He refused. She froze when she caught sight of him, emotions he couldn’t decipher flickering across her face. She closed her phone and put it away. His went silent. “You were calling?”

Her chin bobbed in a rapid nod. “I know who the killer is.”

He blurted out his news, too. “I know how he’s overpowering Magickals.”

“And I think I know where to find him.”

They stared at each other for a moment, absorbing that. Adrenaline pumped through him. They had him. They knew who, how, and where. All the pieces were together. Now they just had to make sure he didn’t slip through their fingers again. Easier said than done.

Peyton waved his hand. “Tell us.”

“Isaak Night, Gregor’s Normal younger brother.” She shook her head, repugnance radiating from her. “They both worked for the New Orleans Conclave, and apparently Isaak felt wronged when he wasn’t turned, too, so Delta’s profile was spot-on. Gregor taught baby brother everything he knew about killing Magickals.”

Like her cousin. She didn’t say it, but it was there in her face, in the flash of pain and vulnerability that she tried so hard to hide.

“He didn’t teach him everything.” Jack had to fist his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. How could he ever let this woman go? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “He somehow got his hands on the last remaining cursed object. We’ve just spent the past few hours going over everything with the leader of the Elven Assembly, who confirmed it for us. They, of course, insist that we recover the object so it can be destroyed.”

“Of course.” She shook her head.

“You said you knew where he was?” Peyton prompted.

Her face paled a bit, but her chin lifted. “I think he’s at my house.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose, but he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. If they hadn’t figured all of this out, if she had gone home. Jesus, he might have lost her. Just that quickly. He swallowed hard. “How did you figure that out?”

“Grim.” The dog barked, trotting up to sit beside her. She stroked his broad skull. “He went ape-shit trying to rip Gregor apart, and the vamp said he’d seen him before in New Orleans, the night he’d forced Isaak to leave town. Grim was acting insane at my house earlier, before I went to track down Gregor. The only other time he’d acted that way ... was that night in New Orleans.”

Jack filled the rest of the thought in. “Grim knows the killer.”

“That’s what I think. Which means ...”

“Isaak is at your house.” He nodded, the knot of rage that had formed in his chest when he’d seen his stepfather expanding, hardening to hate. This motherfucker wanted to steal two of the people who meant the most to him. Over his dead body.

“Yep.” Her smile was faint. “Care to put together a little housewarming party for him?”

He stepped forward and slid his hand through her hair and down to squeeze the nape of her neck. “We’re going to get him this time.”

“Damn right.” For once, she didn’t pull away, didn’t remind him that they were in the workplace. Then again, she thought she was going to die, so why did it matter to her now? His jaw clenched at the thought. He didn’t want her willing because she had nothing to lose. He wanted her willing because she was willing. He had to keep her alive long enough to make that happen.

“I’ll call in all our guys, have the house surrounded.” Peyton pulled out his cell and started dialing. He paused for a moment and eyed them. “I’ll meet you guys there. Grim, why don’t you ride with me?”

Her familiar looked at her, looked at Jack, rolled his eyes, and sighed. She rolled her eyes back. “I’ll be fine. We’ll be right behind you.”

Peyton motioned the familiar forward, and the two disappeared, leaving Selina and Jack alone. He reached over and pushed the button to call the elevator. It was still there, so the doors slid open. “You have your car with you?”

She nodded and just stared at him. There were a million emotions in her gaze, but the worst one was regret. He didn’t want her regret. Not even a little, not even for a second. He hated that that was all she wanted to give him. Was that all this was worth to her? He wanted to shake her, wanted to hit something. This went far beyond the killer they hunted. This was about them, and whether she even accepted there was a them.

They stepped into the elevator, and the moment the doors slid shut, she turned to him.

“Jack ...”

His stomach clenched at the misery in her voice. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but he’d learned a long time ago that wasn’t a promise he could make anyone.

“I never meant for us to get this involved. It was just supposed to be sex. A last fling to send me off in style.” She gave a breathy, sad laugh. “I never meant for you to get hurt, and I’m so sorry, Jack. I wanted you to be able to walk away and not—”

“Walk away?” He punched the button to bring the elevator to a shuddering stop. “Walk away? Don’t you get it? It’s too late for that. It’s too late for me. I’m already fucking in love with you!” He was shouting in her face, his frustration and grief at the thought of losing her breaking free, and then he had her in his arms, consuming her in a kiss. He hadn’t expected to say those words, hadn’t even known they were there, but damn if they weren’t true.

She shoved her fingers in his hair, knotting them tight and kissing him back with as much violent ardor. His hands curved around her soft ass, and he pulled her up so he could align his sex with hers. She parted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, grinding her pussy against him. They sucked and bit at each other’s lips, and he tasted blood. His or hers, he didn’t know and didn’t care, but the carnality drove him onward. He had to have her. One last time. If she died, if she lived and decided she wanted her isolation more than she wanted him, he had to have her, have this, one last time.

He backed her into the side of the elevator, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Magic our pants off, would you?”

She choked on a laugh, but she blinked and cool air swirled around his legs. They were bared from the waist down. Perfect.

Reaching between them, he grasped his cock and rubbed it against her pussy. “You’re wet.”

“Yes.” She arched her back and worked her damp, swollen lips on his hand and his dick. “Now, Jack. Now. I can’t wait.”

Neither could he.

He guided himself to her slick opening and plunged deep in one swift thrust. She bit his shoulder and made a strangled sound of utter need. Her pussy fisted around his cock, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from coming right then and there. She hit him with a wave of pleasure spells, sizzling his nerves with fire and ice, lightning that arced over their limbs.

The rhythm he set for them was punishing, rough. Driving them to the edge of orgasm in moments. He fucked her hard, loving the sounds she made, how she clung to him and clenched her thighs around his hips. He shoved his hand into her hair and pulled her head back, reclaiming her lips.

She moaned into his mouth each time he entered her tight pussy, and he sank his tongue in to twine with hers, to taste her. So sweet, so hot, so uniquely Selina. Her hips rolled against his, and she squeezed her inner muscles around his pounding cock. He groaned, shuddered, knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

He wanted her with him. He gripped her ass tighter and slid inward to work his finger into her anus. She screamed into his mouth, her movements becoming frantic. Lightning flashed in the small elevator, and it danced in a storm over their heads, forks of it striking their flesh. He shuddered, working her with his cock and his finger while she cried out.

“Come now, Selina.” He pulled her tight to the base of his dick and rotated his pelvis against her clit.

She exploded in his arms, and the sizzle of her spell centered right where their bodies joined. He groaned and broke with her, his come jetting into her. When he was spent, all he had was a vague wish that he could have this forever, that it could never, ever end. There was only one way to do that. Change her fate.

“We have to go,” he said, because someone had to.

She stroked her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, tilting her head back to kiss his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. “I know.”

They both groaned when he let her slide down the wall, his still semihard cock pulling out of her. She brushed her mouth over his, then did some kind of spell that cleaned them up and put their clothes back on. He leaned over and pushed the button to resume their downward journey to the parking garage in the basement.

They walked to her car in silence, sliding inside and buckling up. Her hands shook slightly when she put the key in the ignition. “You’re not going to try to stop me from going?”

“No.” He sighed. “I would do the same thing in your place. I wouldn’t let anyone keep me away from this.”

Not after what Isaak Night had done to Darren. Not after what he’d done to Selina’s cousin and so many other people. Nothing could keep him away from this, and he couldn’t be hypocritical enough to demand from her what he wouldn’t give himself.

He glanced at her set expression as she pulled out of the parking spot. “You’re not going to die, you know.”

Shaking her head, she offered him a rueful smile. “Everyone dies.”

“Not on my watch.” Maybe if he said it enough, they’d both believe it. It had to be true. He needed it to be true.

A little laugh spilled from her. “That’s such a Normal thing to say.”

“I’m Normal, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He motioned down at himself as she merged the car into traffic.

“I had, actually.” She sobered, her gaze growing sad. “Don’t set yourself up for failure by trying to stop the inevitable.”

“It’s not inevitable.” He sliced a hand through the air. “The only thing that inevitably kills you is age. Everything else is mutable.”

She shook her head again. “Despite how I look to you, I’m old and I’m tired. Almost four and a half centuries is more than most Magickals get, and way more than any Normal would consider.”

“Don’t be so accepting of this.” He got a stranglehold on his temper and kept his voice level. “I want you to want to live. I want you to fight for it.”

The noise she made was impatient. “I’ve been fighting for four hundred and forty-one years, Jack. What more do you want from me?”

“Fifty more years! That’s what I want from you.”

She blinked, paled, and glued her eyes to the road in front of them. “We shouldn’t talk about this.”

“Coward.”

Her lips trembled and she pressed them together for a moment. “I’m going to die soon, Jack. Stop rubbing my nose in it with things that aren’t possible. It’s cruel.”

“So you do want it, then.” Thank God. He couldn’t be the only one who wanted her to stay alive.

“Leave me alone.” Her voice rose, and her hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“No,” he snapped back. “That’s the last thing I want to do. I think you’ve been alone far too long. I think that’s what makes you so fatalistic and accepting of death. I don’t think you’re tired or bored with life. I think you’ve gone too long with no one else giving a shit if you lived or died. It’s easy to be accepting when you think the only one it affects is you.”

“That is the only one it affects,” she insisted, but the last word broke on a soft sob.

“Not anymore.” He wanted her to believe that, if he could convince her of nothing else.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The desperation in her voice hurt, and he knew she was trying to make this easier, but he didn’t want it to be easier on her. He wanted it to be really hard to leave him.

“It would rip a hole in my heart if I lost you now, Selina.” He laid it out for her, whether she wanted to hear it or not. If he’d done that for Heather, maybe he wouldn’t have lost her so young. Maybe she wouldn’t have given up all hope. He couldn’t bear those doubts with Selina. He didn’t want to keep making the same mistakes over and over again, so he told her the bald truth. “I need you too much to watch you die before your time.”

A tear streaked down her cheek. “It is my time.”

“Not until old age gets you, it isn’t.” He reached over and brushed the moisture away. “You can run from the truth if you want to, honey, but that won’t change it. In the end, it doesn’t matter what I want, it matters that you want to live.”

Her hands strangled the steering wheel, strain drawing the skin taut around her eyes and mouth. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s a start.”

His cell rang before she could respond, and it was Peyton with information on the situation at Selina’s house. He put the blue light on her dash and lit it up. She put her foot on the gas pedal, speeding them toward whatever Fate had in store for them.

16

This was it. The end game. Selina could feel it to her bones.

She tried to calm her racing heart, to focus on something besides this one inevitable moment she’d known was coming for so long.

They had the house surrounded. Her house. They’d scanned it with infrared to see if Isaak’s body heat showed up. Nothing. Any attempts to try magical scans had failed. The evil was too powerful to penetrate. It was near, that much she knew. She could feel that same wave of uneasiness go down her spine as before, when Grim had been snapping at shadows. The cursed object. It disrupted magic, made it flicker like static, pulled at it like a magnet, sent a creeping chill down her spine.

Grim vibrated with disquiet next to her as they worked their way across the lawn, silent as the grave. Peyton was in front of her, Jack just behind her. They lined up against the rear of her house, their backs to the wood siding. Her flak jacket felt bulky and heavy, and sweat slid in sticky rivulets down her neck.

Ready, Grayson? Peyton motioned to her, his staticky telepathic voice in her head, and she nodded. Gathering every last bit of magic she could muster, she’d blast in the back door in three ... two ... one ...

Boom.

The percussive burst made her wince, and Peyton and Grim snarled as it hit their sensitive ears. The werewolf whipped through the door, his weapon leading the way. They filed through the door, covering each other, moving from room to room, searching for the evil Normal.

Her heart thudded against her ribs every time they entered a room. So familiar, and so alien. Nothing was out of place, and yet it felt violated. As if the very air had become dark and twisted. He’d been here, in her home. If, by some miracle, she survived this, she couldn’t live here anymore.

If. When had she even had a shred of hope of surviving? When had that happened without her noticing? She shook herself. Focus. This was no time to let her attention wander.

Her steps careful, she eased down the hallway toward her bedroom. Jack was across from her, working his way along the wall. His brows furrowed, but when he met her gaze, he winked. She almost smiled. Almost.

Spinning to the opposite side of the doorway, he nodded to her to let her precede him into the room. She ducked her head to do a visual scan, tried her magic, and found the same irritating jangle of evil scraped along her nerves. She looked again, saw nothing, and flipped around the doorjamb, her pistol pointing at anything that might so much as twitch while she inspected the closet, under the bed, behind the big armoire in the corner.

Nothing.

The air deflated from her lungs. He wasn’t here. “Clear.”

“Clear,” Jack confirmed.

The house is all clear. Peyton’s voice drifted through her mind.

Slapping her hand hard against the footboard, she cursed in every language she knew. “Not again.”

She spun for the door, not bothering with quiet now. Her boots rang against the wooden floorboards as she went through the house. The few agents she passed stepped aside to get out of her way. She heard Jack following behind her, but futile rage burst in her veins.

No. No. He couldn’t slip through her fingers again. Her muscles were so tense she was shaking, and she tightened her grip on her weapon to control the tremor. She couldn’t have come so close to catching him and fail once more. She would never forgive herself for letting Bess down that way. Not again.

She made it to the living room, where Peyton stood clustered with a few other men and women. Grim sniffed every crevice, working his way through the house as thoroughly as the humans had.

“Damn it,” she hissed, shoving a hand through her hair. “I can feel the cursed object. He’s nearby, toying with us.”

“I can sense it, too, but it’s fucking with my werewolf abilities.” Peyton blew a breath out of his nose, the closest she’d ever seen him come to losing his cool. “Fuck me if I can figure out which direction it’s coming from.”

Jack’s voice rumbled from behind her. “We’re going to have to set up a search of the neighborhood and expand from there. Do this manhunt the Normal way, since everyone’s magic is hosed.”

“Yeah. Hang on.” The wolf turned back to say something to one of the other agents.

“Live to fight another day, huh?” Jack tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, a tender smile on his face.

Her throat closed tight. He loved her. He’d said so. She’d been trying to deny it, suppress it, not think about it since the moment it came out of his mouth, but gods. He loved her. It filled her up with something so bright and beautiful, it was painful. It was too enormous for words, too wonderful. She caught his hand and turned her head to kiss his palm. She didn’t care who was watching. This feeling was too powerful to let anyone else affect it.

“Jack, I don’t—”

A deafening howl rent the air, and Jack and she spun toward it at the same time. Her heart froze in her chest. Gods, that horrific noise came from her familiar.

“Grim!” Jack shouted.

They both ran, pelting in the direction of the sound. She saw his tail disappearing around the side of her neighbor’s house. “He’s got Isaak’s scent!”

Arms and legs pumping, she sprinted after him, Jack keeping pace beside her. She heard engines starting up, people yelling and running, and knew the others would circle the block to try to cut the murderer off. Good.

Grim jumped the fence out of her neighbor’s backyard, and she grabbed one of the planks, planted her foot, and executed a quick flip. She stumbled when she landed, but regained her footing and hauled ass after her familiar. No way was she losing him now. Jack vaulted easily over the fence, managed not to slam into her, and tore off in the same direction as Grim.

Her heart hammered, her breath rasped in her throat, and her lungs burned. The heavy bulletproof jacket didn’t help. It slammed down on her chest every time she took a step. She ignored the discomfort, gripped her weapon tight, and ran flat out.

“Hey!” Peyton caught up with them, but he didn’t sprint past them the way she expected. He seemed to be working hard to maintain his speed. The cursed object dicking with his wolf skills, she realized. They were all at a disadvantage.

There. She saw a flash of his back, dressed in black with reddish hair like his brother. He slammed into an apartment building halfway up the block, Grim hot on his heels. Pouring on more speed, she powered after him.

“I’ll cover the back.” Peyton split left, skidding around the corner of the building.

Jack held a radio to his mouth, barking out the address to the other agents, ordering the place surrounded. His boots thudded up the stairs behind her as she shot after Grim’s unholy keening. Sweat slid down her face, and she swiped at her eyes to clear her vision.

She slipped around a corner, her gun leading the way. Empty hallway. Skittering further along, she tried to control her breathing, her rabbiting heartbeat, tried to hear anything that might clue her in to where they were. Grim’s snarling grew louder to the right, so she ran down that hallway, darting through the maze of halls and staircases. Up, up, left, right.

She could hear them now, Isaak cursing, the distinct sound of a dog attacking. Peeking around the corner, she saw Grim had the Normal down on the ground, and Isaak was fighting hard to escape. She turned back to say something to Jack, only to realize he wasn’t there. When had she lost him? She’d been so focused on getting to Isaak, she’d left herself without backup. Rookie mistake. Fuck.

Pulling her radio off her belt, she cued the comm. “Laramie, Peyton, this is Grayson, come in.”

“Copy,” they both replied. Jack’s voice was breathless and livid. “Where the hell are you?”

“Fourth floor.”

“I’m coming up. Wait for me. Do not engage.” His words were sharp, an edge of fear to them.

She held the radio to her mouth. “Copy tha—Grim!”

A boom of gunfire, the howl of an animal in pain, and she knew she couldn’t wait. Ice froze the blood in her veins. She checked around the corner again, and her heart stopped. Blood. Grim’s blood. Splattered everywhere.

Oh, gods. Rage, black and ugly, clouded everything else. “The building is surrounded, Isaak. Drop your weapon and put your hands up!”

“You know my name.” He sounded more curious than anything else. “Selina.”

Revulsion crawled over her skin at the way he said her name, almost a caress. Her stomach heaved. “Yeah, I know who you are. I know about all your other murders between New Orleans and now.”

He chuckled and it echoed in the empty hallway. “You always were my favorite.”

Ducking out, she squeezed off a shot. And missed. He didn’t. One bullet caught her in the shoulder, where her bulletproof vest didn’t cover, and spun her around. Her arm spasmed and she lost her weapon. The next shot hit her protective talisman and ricocheted, the pendant shattered. The force of the bullet knocked the wind out of her and drove her to her knees. She gagged, trying to breathe, to get air in her lungs. A third bullet hit her thigh, and dark crimson blood spurted out. Femoral artery.

Her mind catalogued the catastrophic damage, even as she crashed to the floor on her side. Then the agony hit, and she screamed. Iron. He’d used iron bullets. It burned as it dissolved in her veins, spreading through her. Her muscles locked, and she shrieked again. Nothing had ever hurt this way before. It went beyond pain, it boiled her flesh from the inside out. If she could have crawled out of her own body then, she would have.

A hand closed over her shoulder, flipping her onto her back. Isaak. He looked like Gregor, but older. The older younger brother. Vampirism had stopped Gregor’s aging, while the ravages of time and disease were on Isaak’s face. If Selina had thought Gregor was enigmatic and deadly, his brother was ... soulless. The darkness of the cursed object had drained him of whatever humanity he had left. His hand clutched it to his chest.

Grim whimpered, snarled, tried to drag himself with his front paws toward them.

Isaak ignored the familiar. “Drinking your blood is going to taste so sweet. I’ve grown to love that flavor. Pity I can’t collect it and take it with me for later like I usually do, but I’ll improvise for you, Selina.”

His free hand slid the metal fangs into his mouth. She tried to scoot out of his reach, but all her body could manage were uncoordinated jerks. He pinned her arm to the ground and pressed the cursed talisman to her. Agony sliced into her, and an inhuman shriek tore from her throat. She could feel it pulling at the magic that was at the very essence of her being, ripping at her, raping her soul. He chuckled, plunged his hand into her hair, and twisted viciously. Arching her throat, he bent to sink his fangs into her flesh, to bleed her dry.

Slapping at him, she tried to fend him off, but knew it was no use. She’d lost too much blood, had iron searing her insides, and that evil talisman wrenched her magic away. Weakness stole into her limbs, and she knew her life could be counted in minutes, seconds.

A moment of absolute clarity hit her. She didn’t want to die. Gods, no. Not like this. She wanted to live. It was bitterly ironic that it took her until right now to realize she didn’t accept her fate, that she wanted the years she could have had with Jack.

That she loved him.

Isaak’s fangs pierced her flesh, and a gurgling cry wrenched out of her. Her cheek was pressed to the floor, Isaak hunched over her on one side, which gave her the perfect view of her bleeding, dying familiar whimpering as he continued to try to crawl forward and save her. A sob spilled out of her. She could hear Jack calling in the distance, could hear his running footsteps, but it was too late. That was how things had always gone with this case—she figured it out too damn late to save anyone, including herself.

She heard glass breaking, a window shattering. Shadows danced in the hallway, and something moved that was too fast for her to see. Isaak lifted away from her, and he shouted something she couldn’t quite grasp. Darkness edged at her vision, and her mind spun in sickening loops. She heard screaming, horrible screaming that didn’t come from her. Two men wrestled, one slamming the other against the wall.

Was it Jack? Peyton?

She blinked hard, tried to focus. She flinched when Isaak’s body hit the floor near her, his eyes blank and staring. Dead. Her head lolled like a broken doll while she tried to see who had killed him. The feel of evil pressing down on her eased, and she drew in a ragged, clean breath.

Perched in the window, the cursed object in his hand, was Gregor. His red hair shone like a penny in the hallway light. “You’re just lucky it’s overcast enough today for me to be here. With a little more luck, you might actually survive.”

A bit of magic sparked back to life within her, and she tried to slow the bleeding in her leg, her arm, her neck. It was futile. Her breath gulped in tiny gasps, and her throat worked while she tried to find the power to speak. “Why?”

The laugh that spilled from him was bitter and sad at once. “Because, despite what you think of me, I have a code of ethics I follow, and letting him kill other people because of me was wrong. I clean up my own messes.”

“Appreciate ... it.”

“Don’t thank me for killing my own brother. Just ... don’t.” His gaze dropped to Isaak’s body, sprawled in a lifeless heap on the floor. He shook his head, turned, and disappeared as abruptly as he’d come.

“Selina! Where the fuck are you? Selina!” Jack roared her name from a great distance, but she didn’t have the strength left to yell back, to call for help.

She could just lie there and die, like Merek had predicted.

It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Cold stole through her, and she shivered. Shock, she knew. She’d been a nurse in a war. She was a cop. She recognized the signs. She’d lost too much blood, and her body was going into shock. Forcing what little magic she had toward the wounds, she continued to try to staunch them. Her body simply wouldn’t move, no matter how she strained. The iron bullets.

“Selina!” Jack’s beloved face appeared in front of her. “Ah, God. Jesus, baby. Hold on. Just hold on. Help is coming. You’re going to be fine.” The desperation in his voice was enough to break her heart.

“Grim?”

“Peyton’s got him. He’ll take him to the vet.” He moved his shoulder so she could see her familiar. The wolf had stripped off his shirt to wrap it around Grim. He picked up the dog, cradling him like a baby, and rushed down the hall to get to a car.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered. She had to say it, had to put it into words. If she could give Jack nothing else, she wanted him to have the truth. The whole truth for once. No hiding, no secrets, no protecting herself.

“What?” He leaned closer so he could hear her.

“You were right. I don’t want to die.” She coughed and tasted her own blood. The iron in it burned her tongue. A laugh tripped over a sob. “You know the real difference between Heather and me?”

“What?” He was so near, she could see the gray striations in his blue eyes. She tried to memorize the contours of his face, to lock in the memory of him. Just in case.

“I would never willingly leave you. I want to stay with you, do the whole marriage and kids thing. I wish I could. So much. I love you.” And then she couldn’t fight the darkness anymore, and the cold closed over her head in a great wave. She struggled against it, tried to hold on to Jack, to stay with him.

“I love you, too, Selina. You’re not going to die. Not now. I won’t let you.” His hands moved over her body, frantic, and it hurt when he tied off the wound on her leg, when he pressed down all his weight on the hole in her shoulder.

She welcomed the pain. It meant she was still alive.

17

Two weeks had gone by and they hadn’t gotten anything settled yet. It was getting on Jack’s last damn nerve. It didn’t help that he’d been pulled on to the Karsen case, which just got to be a bigger and bigger media circus by the day. Someone was leaking information to the press, and it was skating dangerously close to requiring a telepath go and adjust some Normals’ memories.

He pulled into a parking space in front of Sugar Rush, where Selina had insisted that she get the chance to show Peyton what real congolais tasted like. His cousins Holly and Erin had been thrilled to host Selina’s first post-shooting outing, Erin promising the best congolais she’d ever made.

Peyton and Tess climbed out of the car behind him. As Jack suspected, most of his family had shown up for the event. Thanks to the miracle of Magickal healing, she’d been officially cleared to go back to work the following week, so using the excuse of watching over her recuperation wasn’t going to keep her in his house much longer.

They needed to get things hammered out. Tonight. He was tired of this going back and forth to fetch stuff from her place bullshit. He wanted her to move in permanently. She hadn’t wanted to be in her house since Isaak left his evil stench behind, but if she changed her mind and wanted to live there, or if she wanted to find something new together, that was fine. Whatever. As long as they settled on some permanency. She’d said she wanted to get married, and he wasn’t waiting around for a year like Merek had. A trip to the local courthouse would suit him just fine.

“Quite a crowd,” Peyton observed.

“Yep.” It wasn’t just his family gathered on the patio. No, that was Delta sitting between Selina and his parents. Luca stood nearby, a glass of wine in his hand, blatantly flirting with Jack’s human cousin, Erin. Then there were Millie Standish and Alex Nemov, as well as Merek and Chloe, newly returned from their honeymoon. And a whole boatload of animals. Selina’s dog, Chloe’s cat, and a bunch of others he’d never seen before. What the hell was this?

Tess made a sheepish face. “I, uh, may have mentioned to Chloe that we’d be here tonight. I didn’t know she’d invite herself.”

“And the whole neighborhood, too.” Jack motioned the others ahead of him.

Peyton moved with the caution of a man unsure of whether he’d be fried alive. He kept a wary eye on Chloe but let his hand settle at Tess’s back, which was as close to a public display of affection as Jack had seen from the two. Luca took in the gesture, and his expression went carefully blank. Erin glanced between Luca and Tess. Her eyebrows arched, and comprehension dawned on her face. Well, good. At least Jack wasn’t going to have to have a chat with her about getting involved with Luca. He’d rather not have his cousin turn a love triangle into a square.

Jack dismissed the exchange from his mind and stepped up behind Selina, set his hands on her shoulders, and bent to kiss her cheek. “Hey, you.”

Reaching over her shoulder, she patted his cheek. “Hi.”

He had that rush of gratitude that he’d felt every time he saw her, alive and whole. It could have gone so much worse. He’d come so close to losing her, to losing everything. A few seconds later and he wouldn’t have been able to stop the bleeding in time. If Gregor hadn’t shown up, Isaak would have finished her off. If any one of a dozen things had gone the other way, she wouldn’t be here now. Thank God. Thank God.

Grim walked up, healthy and still the biggest attitude on four legs. One kitten rode on his back, another dangled from his collar by one paw while swatting at the German shepherd’s identification tags. A third kitten attacked his tail.

Jack arched his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s with the petting zoo?”

“Ophelia wanted to come. Which meant her kittens wanted to come. Which meant her new manpanion came along, too.” Chloe gestured to two adult cats peering down from a windowsill. One was a dainty chocolate-point Siamese. The brute beside her was the biggest orange-striped tomcat Jack had ever seen. He had a few scarred-over bald patches and a flattened ear.

The kittens were a strange mixture of the two. One was a big, fluffy marmalade with two white paws. Another looked just like Chloe’s familiar. Slim, elegant, chocolate-point Siamese. The third was probably the most gorgeous cat he’d ever seen. It was Siamese in coloring, but its points were orange-tabby striped.

Millie reached down to pat that one on the head. “Pretty, isn’t she? It’s called flame-point. It only happens when you mix a Siamese with non-Siamese. A purebred can’t be that color.”

“Whose familiar is he?” Jack tipped his head at the big, scarred tomcat.

“He’s a stray.” Millie sniffed disdainfully. “A plain, old alley cat. Not a familiar. She went slumming.”

Jack nodded to the cat. “Good for you, Ophelia. Some of us non-Magickal types are just fine.”

Tipping her head back to look at him, Selina winked. “I think so.”

The flame-point kitten hopped up on the table, scooted to the edge, wiggled her butt for a moment, and then gave a death-defying leap toward Peyton. Only his lightning-fast wolf reflexes kept the kitten from hitting the floor. He lifted her up until they were eye level.

“I think she wants you, Peyton. Ever had a familiar before?” Tess stroked the kitten’s head.

Casting her a disbelieving glance, he tried to hand the cat to Chloe. “I’m a wolf. I can’t have a cat familiar.”

“A pretty, dainty, Siamese she-cat familiar, even.” Darren chortled. The big wolf lounged in his chair. His recovery had been slow, but he was starting to bounce back. A dark mark still scored the flesh above his collarbone—even his werewolf healing hadn’t been able to get rid of it. “The pack is going to love this.”

Selina coughed. “It’s my understanding the familiar picks the person, not the other way around.”

“That’s how it happened for me.” A wicked grin on her face, Chloe held up her hands, refusing to accept the cat. “Ophelia came to me and that was that. End of story.”

Peyton stared at the kitten that fit in the palm of his hand. She mewed at him, turned her head, and licked his thumb. He sighed, the sound long-suffering. But he stroked one fingertip down her tiny skull and she purred, her eyes closing in ecstasy.

“Aww, Peyton. That’s so cute,” Delta crooned from her seat, laughter shaking her shoulders. “What are you going to name her?”

He grunted and said nothing, but he perched the kitten gently on his shoulder.

The big marmalade kitten wandered over and plopped himself on Luca’s expensive Italian loafer. The vampire picked him up by the scruff of his neck and said, “No. I’m not what one would call a cat person. You don’t want me.”

The kitten paddled the air, batting at Luca’s jacket sleeve until he sighed.

“This is inconvenient.”

“Suck it up, Cavalli. Apparently, we’re handing out familiars tonight.” Chloe made a wry face. “There’s one more. Anybody else want a kitten?”

“Me!” Delta jumped out of her seat, reaching for the little Siamese. “Come to Mama, baby. Oh, I’m going to spoil you so rotten.”

The gathered crowd laughed, and Jack’s cousins brought out trays of pastries for everyone. The mood was festive. Everyone had made it through alive and in one piece. Jack could definitely live with that kind of outcome.

Millie leveled a beady stare on Selina, her crisp voice ringing over the babble of chatting voices. “You do realize you’re pregnant, don’t you?”

Jack and Selina both froze, and shock punched through him. He felt a little light-headed, and Delta laughed, shoving him into a chair. “Sit down before you fall down, Laramie.”

He groped for Selina’s hand, which had gone ice-cold. She stared at Millie. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I can sense it,” Tess interjected quietly. “I thought you knew.”

“Wow, I didn’t see that coming.” A broad grin creased Merek’s face. “Congrats, Grayson.”

Jack was going to be a father. Soon. Jesus Christ. He’d been thinking maybe someday he’d ease Selina into it, but this was a lot sooner than he’d anticipated. A child. A child that was half him and half Selina.

“I’m going to be a grandmother,” Angela sang, all but dancing in her seat. “It’s about damn time. I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Girl,” Selina and Merek said at the same time.

Merek nodded. “Yeah, this one’s a girl. The next one, too. Both elves. Hellions, too. Have fun.”

She flicked her fingers at him. “May you have four boys before you manage a hellion daughter of your own. You deserve to have her wrap you around her little finger. Kind of like Chloe has.”

Chloe laughed up at her husband, while Alex shook his head at them. “I’m going to have brothers and sisters someday? Why didn’t I even consider that option?”

Ignoring all of them, Selina turned to Jack. Her dark eyes were wide, and she looked as dazed as he felt. “What do you think?”

“Three things.” A wild mixture of disbelief and wonder burst inside him, and a wide smile broke across his face. “First, we’re getting married tonight. These are all the people we’d want there, right? Between Millie and Luca, they should be able to pull enough strings to make it happen for us.”

“My uncle is a judge. It shouldn’t be an issue.” Luca had his kitten cuddled to his chest. For a non-cat-person, he seemed to be doing just fine.

Jack ignored everyone else and continued. “Second, we’re moving your stuff in this weekend. None of this dual residence shit. Third, I think ... Elizabeth Angela. Or maybe Angela Elizabeth. What do you think?”

“Elizabeth Angela. I like it.” After her cousin and his mother. Two women who had helped shape the people they’d become. It seemed fitting.

“And the rest?” He arched his eyebrows at her.

She nodded and rolled her eyes, which had brightened with tears. “I’m in if you are.”

“I’m all in, honey.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. A singular moment of peace stretched between them, and he sighed. After Heather had died, he’d never thought he’d find anything like this. Someone he was willing to take a risk on again.

By some twist of fate, by some miracle, he had a chance at a life far fuller than he’d ever imagined. Gratefulness flooded him. He’d fight to his last breath to keep this, to keep Selina happy and safe, to protect this child and any other they were blessed with. He’d never wanted anything so much in his entire life. Thanks to her, he’d gotten everything he’d never known he wanted. It had been a bumpy ride and they’d been through hell, but damn if he hadn’t landed somewhere that felt pretty perfect.

Tragedy could still strike. He had a dangerous job and so did she. But she’d never willingly leave him, and he was with her until the wheels fell off.

It was a start.

She was married. And pregnant.

Selina felt dazed when she walked into Jack’s house later that night. Their house. She lived here now. With her husband.

That nagging feeling that everything was going to change had eased in the past couple of weeks. Life as she knew it had come to an end. She just hadn’t had to die to make that happen.

Jack ruffled Grim’s fur as the familiar came inside. The dog grunted and went to sprawl in front of the couch. Erin had loaded him down with homemade dog treats, and he’d been groaning in the backseat on the way home. Jack closed the door behind them, locking it and engaging the security system. Selina automatically threw up shielding spells around the place. An extra layer of protection.

He leaned back against the door and folded his arms. “This place is going to get crowded if Merek’s prediction for two kids comes true.”

“It will. Magickals are allowed to have two children per century.” She shrugged. “Prevents overpopulation. Though since I’ve never had any before, we can probably get a dispensation for more, if you want.”

“Two is good with me, unless you want more.” He rolled his shoulders, his gaze locking on her face. “Your place is bigger. Are you sure you don’t want to live there?”

An involuntary shudder went through her. She’d been back a couple of times to pick up clothes, but it still had that taint to it. She couldn’t stay there. She’d never feel safe, even though Isaak was dead. “No, I can’t. He was there, in my space. We can move my stuff out this weekend, like you said. If you want to shop around for something bigger, we can. I like your neighborhood, with your cousins’ café down the street, and Grim likes the park nearby. We can see what’s in the area.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he sighed. “Millie pulled me aside after the ceremony and told me to let you know that the Elven Assembly got an anonymous delivery yesterday. A cursed talisman. She served as a witness for the All-Magickal Council while the Assembly leaders destroyed it.”

A breath eased out of her lungs. The evil object had been destroyed. Thank gods. No one else would feel that touch of darkness. The black mark of it still marred her forearm. The doctors told her that Darren’s wolf healing might whittle away at his mark, but as an elf, hers would never fade. A constant reminder of what she’d been through. But she’d survived, and the rest she could live with. She was learning, slowly, to forgive herself for Bess’s death. Instead of just suppressing the guilt, she had to accept that the past couldn’t have turned out any differently. She sighed. “Did they ever find out where Isaak got it?”

“No.” He pushed forward and came to take her in his arms. She let herself relax against his chest. “The Assembly is looking into it, of course, but that’s a question we might never get an answer to.”

“Officially, anyway.” They might hear through the grapevine, or Millie might let them know what she found out, but Selina doubted the Assembly would ever publicly admit there had been a cursed talisman still floating around out there.

He kissed her forehead. “I can’t believe Gregor turned it over.”

“He’s not evil, you know. He’s just not that good. There’s a difference.” Gods, didn’t she know that. She’d seen the clear distinction between the two Night brothers. One who lived by his own tarnished code of ethics, the other who had none at all. “My question is, did he know Isaak had it in New Orleans or did he find out here, like the rest of us? Another question we’ll probably never get an answer to, huh? I doubt Gregor’s stopping back in for a debriefing.”

“Yeah, that’s unlikely. I don’t want to talk about our enigmatic Mr. Night.” Jack nudged her chin up and smiled at her, everything she felt reflected in his eyes. “I’m much more interested in making love with ... my wife.”

The word sent a shiver through her. Gods, she was married. It was insane, and it felt amazing. There’d been no frills to it, but she didn’t have time or patience for that anyway. It had been just right. He took her hand and led her toward the bedroom. He didn’t have to tell her twice. She couldn’t get enough of him, and she doubted she ever would.

He pulled her into his arms and danced her up the hallway and through the bedroom door. When he stopped next to the bed, she leaned in to kiss her husband. His lips moved over hers, savoring. Damn, but he could kiss. She smiled against his mouth, sliding her tongue in to deepen the contact.

He groaned and drew her closer, his arms tightening until she could feel his erection prodding her belly. Heat unfurled within her, spreading tendrils of lust and magic to every part of her body. She coasted her hands up his chest, enjoying the bunch and flex of muscle there. She moaned when his big palms curved around her ass and pulled her up on tiptoe so that his cock settled in just the right spot.

Releasing her lips, he worked his mouth along her jaw and down her neck. He sucked and bit lightly until her breath rushed, and magic began to sizzle over her skin. He groaned. “Give me the spell.”

She did, twining their desire together until they were one. His cravings stoked hers, and everywhere he touched her left a trail of golden light that glowed on her flesh. He tugged at the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. A grin spread over his face when he caught sight of her magenta bra. “I do love your lingerie collection.”

He bent forward and sucked her nipple into his mouth, right through the fabric. The lace scraped against the sensitive flesh, and her back bowed as lava flowed through her veins. She let her head fall back, whimpering at the intensity of the feeling. So good. She bunched her fingers in his shirt, wishing she could stroke his skin instead. Her magic responded to the barely formed wish, and his clothing disappeared.

Biting down on her nipple, he made her cry out, shuddering and twisting in his arms. He straightened to look at her, his pupils dilated so that only a thin rim of blue showed. “No fair. You still have clothes on.”

“I wanted to touch you.” She suited actions to words and drew her hands down his torso until she cupped his hard cock. She pumped his thick shaft between her fingers, and he groaned, his hips arching to increase the stimulation.

Jerking away from her touch, he flicked open the fastenings on her pants, hooked his fingers in the waistband, and drew both slacks and panties down her legs. “Step out of them.”

The low rumble of his voice made moisture flood between her thighs. She loved when he used that tone. Goose bumps went down her arms and legs as she obeyed him. She reached behind her to pop open her bra and let it slide away.

Dipping his fingers into her sex, he stroked her clit until she was grinding her hips into his touch, her hands braced on his shoulders. Pleasure spells whipped out of her, flowing like liquid fire over their bodies. His fingers pierced her sex, driving in hard. The heel of his hand rubbed over her clit, and his fingertips curled until he hit her in just the right spot. She bit her lower lip, her nails digging into his flesh, and her sex spasmed. So close. She was so close.

He pulled his hand back, and she cried out in denial. He couldn’t stop now. But he did. “Get on the bed.”

“You had better make that up to me.” She turned and crawled onto the mattress, not at all surprised when he swatted her ass.

A chuckle rolled out of him, affection warming his tone. “I love you.”

Her heart turned over. She reached for him. “Jack ...”

He rolled them to their sides and she hooked her leg over his thigh. The hot stretch of his cock penetrating her sex made excitement quiver through her. When he was seated to the hilt within her, he stopped. His eyes were a dark, fathomless blue. “I want to hear you say it, Selina.”

She hadn’t said it much since that first time, too terrified to let herself really believe that she could keep something so good. It felt like forever since anything earthshakingly good had happened to her. Only death and loss and loneliness. She held his face between her palms and met his gaze, no pretenses, as open as she’d ever been in her life. “I love you, Jack. I love you so much. You make me happy.”

Happy. The feeling was so rare, so precious. She’d loved her family, even the ones who’d turned on her, but happiness? She wanted to hold on to this forever.

“Again. Say it again,” he whispered, and plunged his cock into her slick sex. The rhythm he set was slow, but he powered into her with each stroke, burying himself deep. He picked up speed and force, and it was all she could do to hang on to her control.

“I love you, Jack. I love you, love you, love you.” She chanted the words in time with his swift thrusts, and every movement pushed her closer to the edge. She laughed, holding him tight. Clenching her inner muscles around him, she made him groan for her.

It was as good with him as it had always been. No, it was better. The feeling was somehow richer, deeper. There was none of the desperation to forget the past or the future, no need to deny the present. It was honest. Perhaps more honest than anything she’d ever done in her life.

He sank into her, and every other thought disintegrated. The way he filled her was so right, the fit as perfect as if he’d been fashioned just for her. She tightened her leg around him, arched her body into his, and let herself revel in being alive and with him. Her heart pounded, her muscles shook, and she teetered right on the edge of orgasm. The sound of their skin slapping together was loud in the room. Each time he entered her, his pelvis made rough contact with her clit. Her pussy contracted around his cock, and she couldn’t hold back even if she wanted to.

“Jack! Jack!” Her back bowed, shoving her forward so that her pussy sealed tight to the base of his cock, taking all of him. Pleasure burst within her, and magic exploded out of her. Her sex clenched again and again, milking his shaft.

The sound he made was like a human volcano erupting, and he hammered into her sex. His hot fluids flooded her pussy, and the sharp ecstasy of his orgasm crashed through her mind, dragging her under yet again. Her pussy spasmed as she came hard, the pleasure endless. Magic and physicality merged, became one. Their desire was one need, their love was one feeling.

“I love you, Selina.” His voice was low, husky, and shook with emotion. He squeezed her so tight, her ribs compressed. He buried his face in the crook of her throat. “When I saw you in that hallway, I thought I’d lost you. Hell, you and Grim. There was so much fucking blood. Jesus.”

“I’m here.” She stroked his hair, his back, everywhere she could reach. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t. Don’t ever leave me.” There it was, the deepest wish in his soul. The spell that connected them had sunk far deeper than she’d ever let it before, and she knew far more than his lust for her. She knew his utter need. Just the way she needed him. To never leave her, to always want her.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

In the quiet afterward, she lay in his arms, her back to his front, and felt the stirring of magic within her. She pressed her hand to her belly. The tiny life inside her, just a bundle of cells, was emitting a small shimmer of her own magic.

A child. She could ask herself when this had happened, or even how this had happened, but she knew. The exact moment she’d opened herself up to the possibility of a child was when Jack had asked her if she wanted any, and the clear vision of her daughter had come to her. Apparently, she’d inadvertently shut down the magic potions that were supposed to keep her from getting knocked up. Wonder suffused her, which didn’t quite cancel out the shock she had yet recovered from. Over four hundred years old and she was going to be a mother for the first time.

This child’s life would be so very different from hers, she would make sure of it. This child would never be called a bastard. She would have parents who loved her and loved each other. This child would know she was wanted. The depth of feeling that shook Selina was both heady and terrifying.

It was another bond, when she’d spent so many years refusing to open herself to any of them. She’d been drifting since Bess died, disconnected from any other person. Grim had been a slim tether to the here and now, but as much as she loved the damn dog, he wasn’t the same as human contact.

But Jack.

Gods, Jack had been like a hand reaching into the darkness of her world, grabbing hold of her and refusing to let her drift away entirely. He was a connection she couldn’t escape, couldn’t deny, even when she had wanted to, even when she’d been ready to let go.

All those people and familiars spilling into the courthouse to be there for her wedding had shaken something deep inside her. The loneliness, the isolation. She’d been alone for so long, just her and Grim, that she’d stood there stunned for a moment, just staring around at the joyous noise and chaos. Her familiar had sat in the middle of it all, a kitten pouncing on his tail and one of the most powerful witches in the world stroking his ears. He’d looked about as dumbfounded as she’d felt.

But it wasn’t bad. She might even learn to get used to it. The mattress dipped as Jack shifted in bed, returning her to the present. He squeezed her to him, brushing a kiss over the back of her shoulder. His hand moved down to settle over hers, covering where their child grew within her.

Yeah. She could definitely get used to this.

Content

Night Games
Night - 2
Crystal Jordan

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