“It was just a dream, Autumn. It might be nothing.”

But her laughter filled him with pleasure. “The dream of a Sitheen is nothing to take lightly. You saw them, Kade. I’m sure of it. I’ll start researching as soon as I get home.”

Sharp intelligence gleamed in her eyes as the excitement visibly bubbled within her, pleasing him immensely. What he wouldn’t give to pull her into his arms and taste the happiness on her lips.

“You’re an amazing woman, Autumn McGinn. If anyone can find the stones, you will.” She wouldn’t find them, of course. Ustanis’s magical ability would lead him to the stones long before Autumn ever figured out where they were.

“Thank you.” Her gaze turned soft and shy as she smiled at him.

Every intent flew out of his head as the need to taste her became too great to fight.

And all he could think was that he was just about to say goodbye to the woman he’d been waiting for all his life.

PAMELA PALMER

Pamela Palmer admits to a passion for all things paranormal, fed by years of Star Trek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Tolkien’s classic The Lord of the Rings. Though she grew up wanting to be an astronaut (until she realized the space shuttle wasn’t likely to get her beyond Earth’s orbit), she became an industrial engineer for a major computer maker before surrendering to the romantic, exciting, otherworldly stories that crowded her head, demanding to be told. Her writing has won numerous awards including a prestigious Golden Heart. Pamela lives in Virginia with her husband and two kids and would love to hear from readers through her Web site, www.pamelapalmer.net.

Dark Deceiver
Pamela Palmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

My deepest thanks for your wonderful response to The Dark Gate. Your letters have meant more to me than you can imagine. This book, Dark Deceiver, is the sequel, the second book in what is now THE ESRI series. At the end of The Dark Gate, the humans feared that more of the inhuman Esri would infiltrate our world.

They were right.

I’m smiling as I write this, rubbing my hands together with devilish glee. I love conflict. Not in my real life. Like anyone, I want my days and my relationships to run smoothly. No, the conflict I love is the kind I create and direct through my stories. I adore throwing strong characters into impossible situations with no clue how I’m going to get them out. Or how they’re going to get themselves out. As my characters and I plot and strategize, we often find that escape requires them to do something they never thought they would, or become someone they never thought they could. And in the process, they grow into the people they were meant to be—heroes and heroines capable of great love.

I hope you enjoy reading Dark Deceiver as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. When you’re through, I’d love to hear from you. You can reach me through my Web site, www.pamelapalmer.net, where you can also sign up for my newsletter and learn more about me, my books and the world and characters of THE ESRI series.

All the best,

Pamela Palmer

To my husband, Keith, for laughter, love and

endless support. You really are my inspiration.

More than you know.

Special thanks to Laurin Wittig, Anne Shaw Moran

and Elizabeth Holcomb for keeping me on track

and dropping everything to read for me when I

needed you. Thanks also to my brilliant agent,

Helen Breitwieser, and my wonderful editors, Ann

Leslie Tuttle and Charles Griemsman. Working with

you is a joy.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Prologue

The King’s Court, Esria

The monster of the court had arrived.

Kaderil the Dark strode into the noisy and jubilant hall, half carrying, half dragging the captive at his side, turning gaiety into chaos with a single glower. Sweat dampened his tunic and rolled between his shoulder blades as he strode beneath the floating candles that lit the open hall. Kaderil demanded fear and knew how to get it. Seven tall feet of hard muscle, skin the color of coarse sand and hair as black as the king’s stallion, his appearance alone was enough to strike terror into the breasts of the fair Esri. But it was the reputation for violence he’d carefully cultivated over the years that sent the court’s finest scurrying for cover and had him nodding with grim satisfaction.

Above his head, yards of silk floated between the high marble columns, ribbons of color against the russet glow of the night sky. He’d traveled hard for seven days to the Banished Lands and back to fetch his captive for the king. Though he longed for a cool bath and a soft bed, both would have to wait. There were greater things afoot this night.

As he crossed the hall, one of the brightly dressed Esri lords—a man whose height reached nearly to Kaderil’s chin—failed to clear his path quickly enough. Kaderil clamped his hand around the man’s stark white neck and, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed him into the fleeing crowd. Frightened squeals filled the air, punctuated by the snap of bones and yells of pain.

The cries died almost as soon as they began, for the only injuries the immortal Esri could not heal within seconds were the scuffs and rips to their jewel-colored tunics or sheer, glimmering gowns.

With a satisfied grunt, Kaderil dragged his hairless and quaking captive across the hall. Furtive looks, sharp with terror, speared him from every direction, filling him with calm satisfaction. Their fear protected his secret. They dared not challenge him and therefore had never discovered that the unknown human ancestor whose blood tainted his veins had cursed him with more than his barbaric human looks. He’d left him with little magic—the true power of the Esri.

Kaderil the Dark, the one most feared, was the weakest of them all.

As he approached the throne, which was surrounded by an arc of guards in silver tunics, King Rith beckoned impatiently. “Come, come, Punisher. Bring me the slave.” The king’s white face was long and lean, the ethereal look at odds with the ambition that shone with a chiseled edge from his eyes. He wore a cloak of pure gold and in his straw-blond curls, a shimmer of emerald beads.

But it was not his king Kaderil watched with careful measure, but Zander, the captain of the royal guard, the only one in all of Esria who had the gift of sensing power…and lack of power…in others. The only one who knew Kaderil’s secret.

Kaderil’s blue gaze clashed with Zander’s hated yellow, then broke away as he tossed the slave onto the low dais before the king. Behind him, he felt the throng of Esri fill the cleared path, pressing forward, their fear already forgotten in their growing excitement over the slave’s arrival. He was tempted to whirl and fling another couple of bodies, but refrained, given the extraordinary nature of the gathering.

Around the hall, whispers darted from person to person like hummingbirds set loose on a garden of flowers. “The lost gate has been found!”

King Rith raised his hand, demanding silence, then speared the small man at his feet with an eager gaze. “Your master is dead.”

It was not a question. All Esri knew the moment one of their own was killed, as well as the identities of both murdered and murderer. A month ago, the court had fallen silent, rocked by the knowledge that after fifteen hundred years, one of their own had been killed by humans.

“Aye, sire.”

“And do you know the location of the lost gate?”

The slave touched the floor with his forehead, then lifted his bald head. “Aye. I have been through it myself.”

Incredible, Kaderil thought, his mind racing even as he stood at attention, his feet spread, his arms at his back. Fifteen hundred years ago the seven stones of power were stolen into the human realm and used to seal the gates from the other side. Rumor had always claimed that a single lost gate had been left unsealed, but it had never been found.

Until now.

The king grabbed the slave by the tunic and dragged him forward. “And what of my seven stones?”

The slave’s arms waved in agitation. “Only the draggon stone was found, sire. ’Twas the smell of the stone’s power that led my master to the gate. But the stone was lost, sire. Lost to the humans who killed him.”

King Rith released the creature with a shove. “How is this possible? Humans cannot kill an immortal without the death chant. Surely no humans exist after all this time who remember that bit of magic.”

The slave prostrated himself, his voice muffled by the floor. “I beg your pardon, sire, but there are a few. They are the descendants of the mixed bloods, the mortal children of both human and Esri. The humans we once called Sitheen.”

Mortals with a drop of Esri blood, Kaderil thought. Just as he was an immortal tainted with human. But the only things they had in common were a lack of true power and the look of the humans. The Sitheen would blend into their world as he never had into his own.

“The Sitheen must die. All of them. They will not thwart us again.” King Rith slapped the carved arm of his throne. “I will have my stones. Zander, come forth.”

As Zander stepped out of the arc of silver tunics and came to stand beside him, Kaderil clenched his jaw. Zander made no secret of his hatred for the human-looking Punisher, yet he had never told Kaderil’s secret. Why? Kaderil had spent centuries waiting, tense and wondering, for the day Zander would bring his world crashing down around him.

The king nodded to the captain of his guard, ambition glittering in his eyes. “You will fetch me the seven stones, Zander.”

“Aye, sire.”

“You will take a team of stone scenters into the human realm at the gate’s next opening to find my power stones. I leave it to you to find and kill the Sitheen.”

“Yes, sire. But if it please your highness, I should like to take one more.” Zander glanced at Kaderil with a gleam that sent a chill of foreboding down his spine. “I would take the Punisher, my lord.”

Kaderil jerked. What was Zander up to? Zander knew, as no one else did, he was unsuited for this task. He had no gifts of power, nothing save his great size and strength.

“’Tis well known Sitheen cannot be fooled by glamour,” Zander continued. “With Kaderil’s barbaric human looks, he has no need for that fine magic.”

Zander’s voice fairly brimmed with unnatural enthusiasm, igniting Kaderil’s wariness, as well as his annoyance.

“Kaderil is the perfect man to infiltrate the Sitheen and retrieve your draggon stone, my king. They will think him one of them, allowing him to infiltrate their band and slaughter them with ease.”

Kaderil opened his mouth to object. There was little to be gained by the time-consuming and dangerous ploy of infiltrating the barbarian’s band when the others could fulfill the mission through the power of their gifts. There was little to be gained and much to be lost. If the Sitheen discovered his ruse, they would sing the death chant for him.

Before the words could escape his lips, he felt Zander’s palm clap him on the shoulder, silencing him with a river of fire that stole his breath and streaked his vision with jagged flares of light.

Fighting the blinding pain with every scrap of strength he possessed, Kaderil snatched the hand off his shoulder. As he sucked air into his burning lungs, he snapped the man’s white forearm with a satisfying crack.

Zander gave a shout and sidestepped Kaderil’s reach with a look of venom. “Kaderil will fetch your draggon stone quickly, sire. Between one full moon and the next.”

One month. Kaderil struggled against the nearly overwhelming urge to snap Zander’s neck and every bone in his body. One month to do a nearly impossible task. He knew now what Zander was about. His enemy was setting him up to fail.

The king nodded greedily. “Aye. Aye, indeed, I will have my stones by the next feast.”

Cold tension wove through Kaderil’s muscles at the full measure of Zander’s treachery. The Esrian king was notoriously unforgiving. Failure resulted in banishment. And banishment, for Kaderil the Dark, would mean complete and total isolation for the rest of his immortal existence, for who would welcome the Punisher?

Fury burned through him, binding his hands into fists. He would not let Zander win.

Slowly, his fists eased, his heart pumping with cold determination. His mission would be difficult in the extreme. But not impossible. Never impossible. And the ultimate revenge against his conniving foe would be utter and brilliant success.

Chapter 1

Washington, D.C.

Autumn McGinn grimaced with embarrassment as she crawled through the rain-soaked grass, frantically searching for the lighter she’d accidentally sent flying for the third time.

“You okay, Autumn?” Larsen Hallihan’s voice darted across the rainy Dupont Circle Park, cutting through the gloom. Light poles bordered the concrete circle at the center of the grassy park, illuminating the huge marble chalice that stood in the middle—the beautifully carved fountain that shared real estate with the invisible gate into Esria.

“I’m fine!” Autumn called back.

Why couldn’t she have left her inner klutz home just this once? For four months, she’d angled for an invitation to help guard the gate, ever since the first Esri, Baleris, had found his way through. For four weeks, Baleris had terrorized the nation’s capital, raping young women and enchanting armed cops while he tried to destroy the handful of humans immune to his magic. The humans the Esri called Sitheen. In the end, the humans had won. Baleris was dead.

But the gate remained unsealed. Apparently, it had always been unsealed, but the Esri hadn’t known about it until Baleris had stumbled upon it by accident. Unfortunately, after Baleris died, one of his slaves had escaped back through the gate before they could stop him. Chances were good he’d told others and the Esri would invade again.

Fortunately, the gate only opened during the midnight hour of a full moon. One hour a month, four humans who could resist the spell of enchantment guarded the Dupont Circle Fountain. That is, they had until this month, when two of the four Sitheen had been called out of town.

Autumn had been invited to help, finally, though not quite the way she’d wanted. Ordered to stay far back from the fountain, she’d been enlisted as an extra pair of eyes. If one of the creatures came through, her only job was to watch where he went. Not the greatest responsibility in the world, but she wasn’t Sitheen. Even though she wore a bracelet of holly which supposedly gave her immunity, they still feared she could be enchanted.

She sighed as she crawled through the soaked grass. If only she could do something truly important for once. But considering she was spending most of her time on her hands and knees, watching was probably the safest job for her…for everyone’s sake.

Her numb fingers finally brushed against something hard as the rain beat a tattoo against the raised hood of her jacket. With relief, she grabbed the renegade lighter and scrambled to her feet, her soaked jeans clinging to her legs.

Fire, combined with the Esri death chant, was the only known weapon against the Esri. Logically, she knew her little lighter wasn’t going to do an ounce of good in the rain, especially since she didn’t know the death chant, but she felt safer with it in her hand. If she could just keep hold of the darned thing.

“What time is it?” Larsen called from the other side of the park. Larsen Vale, now Hallihan, had been her roommate in college and one of her best friends for years.

“One-thirty,” Larsen’s husband, Jack, replied. The two of them stood on opposite sides of the fountain, each a distance from Autumn. “We’ll give it another ten minutes, then call it quits for the night.”

Autumn sighed. She hadn’t really expected to see an Esri tonight—none had come through the gate the past three full moons. Still, she’d hoped. As a curator for the Smithsonian, she was too much of a history and folklore buff not to be excited by the prospect of other-worldly creatures, even if they were armed with powerful magic and malicious intent.

“I’m heading straight for a hot bath when we get home,” Larsen said.

Autumn couldn’t hear Jack’s reply, but knew it was something suggestive. Jack and Larsen had only been married a couple of months and couldn’t seem to keep their eyes—or hands—off one another. Autumn was happy for her old friend, but sometimes life was so unfair. Larsen was blond, beautiful, married to one of D.C.’s hottest cops, and Sitheen. Autumn was six foot four with flaming orange hair, two million freckles and a gene for klutziness. Where was the fairness in that?

The rumble of thunder shook the ground as the rain turned to a downpour. Cold and miserable, Autumn huddled beneath the hood of her raincoat while heavy drops beat at her shoulders and back. Okay, now she was ready to call it a night. Clearly, the Esri weren’t coming.

Jack’s shout made her jump. She jerked her gaze to the lit fountain just in time to see a large, dark-cloaked figure leap from the marble base as if he’d been encased in stone all these years.

An Esri!

The creature, taller than Jack, jumped over the low wall of the fountain’s pool and took off running at warp speed. Jack sprinted after him, his flamethrower arcing at his side.

A real live Esri.

Excitement pounded through her as she watched the chase until Larsen’s yell snapped her attention back to the fountain where three more cloaked figures jumped from the marble base and scattered. Larsen pointed her flamethrower at the nearest one, but the pouring rain doused the fire before it could reach the fleeing target.

Autumn stared in stunned wonder until she realized the smallest of the three was headed straight for her! Her mind screamed at her to run. But as the creature passed within feet of her, some inner need to prove herself had her racing forward on frozen feet to tackle the slender creature to the ground.

As she struggled to catch her breath, she stared down into the face of a skinny, white-as-a-sheet teenaged boy peeking out of a coal-black cloak. Eyes that glowed as orange as her hair stared back at her in furious terror.

What had she done? The hair rose on her arms as she met the gaze of this inhuman monster.

The creature struggled against her hold, his face contorted with his futile effort. Either she was in serious need of a diet, or the kid had no muscle mass. His white face twisted in terror and bravado even as he blinked against the onslaught of rain.

“We’ll find the power stones,” he sneered. “All of them, as my king demands. You’ll not stop us even if you kill me!” His eyes flooded with moisture that had nothing to do with the weather.

Autumn stared at the creature beneath her. He was crying! She’d made a monster cry. This had to be a new low in her life.

“Stop it! I’m not going to kill you.”

Beneath her, the Esri youth stilled. “I don’t believe you.” He continued to thrash until she was sure he was going to give her a headache. “You’ll set me aflame as you did Baleris. You…dark blood. You human!”

She stared at the angry hopelessness that twisted the kid’s mouth and felt a sharp stab of pity. She’d told him she wasn’t going to kill him, but he was right not to believe her. She might not kill him, but Jack and Larsen would. This was war and there was no taking an Esri prisoner. Jack had tried that once. He’d locked up Baleris in the police station overnight. By morning, the Esri had managed to enchant the entire D.C. police force, turning them into his own personal hit squad.

They had to kill him. And yet…he was just a kid.

Her mind aimed a swift kick at her heart. She couldn’t be soft on this. If she screwed up now, Jack and Larsen would never let her help again.

“Autumn, hold him!” Larsen’s voice carried through the rain.

The Esri struggled beneath her. “Release me!” But the anger in his voice was crumbling beneath his fear. “I beg of you, release me. I do not wish to die.” The tears ran freely from his eyes, now. “Please, my lady. Please. I mean you no harm.”

Dear God, what was she supposed to do? He was Esri. Evil.

He was just a kid.

With a groan of despair, she knew she couldn’t be the reason he died.

“If I let you go, you have to go back through that gate. Right now.”

The boy stilled, his orange eyes widening with hope. “Aye. I shall go back. You’ll not regret it. I’ll make it up to you. I give you my vow.”

“Right. Just make sure you go back through that gate. If you don’t, my friends will catch you. And then you will die.”

She rolled off him into the muddy grass, knowing she was going to regret this. Jack and Larsen were going to be furious. The kid leaped to his feet and made a dash for the fountain as Larsen tried to intercept him with her flamethrower. But the kid was fast. Before Larsen could catch him, he dove into the fountain, his cloak billowing out behind him for one brief moment before he disappeared.

Autumn rose from the soaked grass, her shoulders heavy with guilt.

“Damn, damn, damn!” Larsen’s epithets rose in volume as she ran toward Autumn. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Do you know what just happened?”

Autumn cringed. “If you’re asking if he enchanted me, I don’t think so. I’m still wearing my holly.” She held up her arm, displaying the rough band of wood she wore around her wrist. Holly was the only thing they’d found that protected true humans from the Esris’ mind control. “I know I had him. I know I let him go.”

“Why?”

All her life Autumn had longed to be smaller. Now she felt about two inches tall. And it hurt. “Larsen, I’m sorry. He looked like a fifteen-year-old kid. And he was crying.” Even to her own ears, her reasons sounded lame.

Larsen looked around with a deep sigh, her expression one of frustration, her movements agitated. “All right. Well, it’s done.” Larsen dug in her pocket and handed Autumn a set of keys. “Go get in the car and lock the doors. The others may come back and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Autumn pressed her lips together, wanting to argue that she could help. But she’d just proved she couldn’t be trusted.

“Larsen, he said something that might be important. He said they came for the power stones.”

Larsen’s gaze jerked to hers. “Stones? Are you sure the word was plural?”

“Positive.” Autumn shoved the keys and her cold fists deep into her pockets. “He said they’d find them all.”

“We thought there was only one. We have only one.”

“Yeah. That’s why I thought it might be important.”

“I really wish you hadn’t let him go, Autumn.”

Autumn met her friend’s rueful gaze. “Me, too.”

“There’s Jack! Did you catch him?” she called to her husband, but he just shook his head.

As Larsen ran to join her husband, Autumn turned to make her way to the car, her heart heavy with the knowledge she’d finally gotten the chance she’d been longing for. A chance to make a difference. To be a hero.

And she’d blown it. Not only had she failed to be of help, she’d become something far, far worse.

She’d become a liability the Sitheen could not afford.

Two weeks later, as the sun set amidst painted clouds, Kaderil strode across the busy street near the D.C. waterfront to the squeal of brakes and the honks of impatient human drivers. He’d learned enough during his short time in the human realm to know he was expected to give way to the vehicles, but he’d spent fifteen centuries making others—powerful immortals—cower before him.

He refused now to submit to humans, regardless of the armor they wore, though he had to admit to a certain fascination with this armor. Cars, they called them. And trucks, minivans, SUVs, convertibles. The humans had a different name for nearly every one and he knew them all.

A cold breeze ruffled his hair as he stepped onto the curb and started across the parking lot to the low-slung building of the marina’s offices. The human world was not what he’d expected. The humans were not the unintelligent, animal-like beings of Esrian legend. When they were free from enchantment, they were, in fact, surprisingly quick of mind. Much to his relief, he’d discovered that he possessed some small talents against them, talents he hadn’t expected. Although he could not fully enchant them as other Esri could, he was able to push thoughts into their heads and borrow knowledge from their brains with a single touch.

Knowledge that had told him he needed documents and a fictitious background that would withstand thorough investigation if he wanted any hope of fooling the Sitheen. A single misstep and he could well find himself burning beneath a death curse.

He’d bullied Ustanis, the third in their party, into setting up his documents and history since he was fully capable of enchanting the humans, forcing them to do his will, and Kaderil was not. It had taken Ustanis nearly a fortnight to accomplish the task, though Kaderil suspected Zander had played a large part in the delay.

He’d worried that a month would be too little time to infiltrate the Sitheen and earn their trust. Now he had only two short weeks.

His stomach burned with tension. The only thing the slave had been able to tell him about the Sitheen was a name, Larsen Vale, and this place, the Top Sail Marina in downtown D.C. They were his only clues. If he failed to find her here, his mission might be lost before he ever started.

Hoping that wasn’t the case, he strode up the path toward the door that said Office. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, caging the Punisher. It was a struggle to fight the deeply ingrained need to fling bodies and demand fear, but he was learning. Humans were fragile creatures, far too easily alarmed by violence. And he had to pretend to be human.

Kaderil opened the door and walked into the marina office.

A solitary, bearded man glanced up from behind the long counter. “Can I help you?”

Kaderil forced his mouth into a semblance of a smile and thrust out his hand. “It’s great to see you again!” Human males, it seemed, were incapable of ignoring the invitation of an extended hand.

The bearded one’s mouth smiled in a poor attempt to hide his lack of recognition. The moment their hands clasped, Kaderil pushed thoughts into the human’s head. His name is Kade and I know him. I trust him.

“Kade!” the bearded man exclaimed, the cloud of confusion lifting from his eyes. “What brings you here?”

“Which boat is Larsen Vale’s?”

The man motioned Kaderil to the window and pointed to the boat in the last slip. “That’s hers down there. That’s not Larsen on the boat, though. Looks as if she has company.” A lone person walked across the deck, a tall woman with hair like flame. A woman who was not, apparently, his quarry. But she was on a Sitheen’s boat. As good a place to start as any.

His pulse leaped with possibility. Even if she wasn’t Larsen Vale, she might know her, or be a Sitheen herself. Already, the day was looking up.

Kaderil turned and left the marina office. Behind him he heard a distant, “Good to see you again, Kade. Always a pleasure.” Belatedly, he remembered he should have said thank-you or goodbye.

But his patience for the trivial was thin. He had a draggon stone to track down and Sitheen to destroy. And two short weeks to accomplish both.

Long enough, perhaps, for he had an advantage they would never suspect. He looked like them. They wouldn’t know he was Esri.

Until too late.

A siren sounded in the distance, rising over the clank and splash of the tie lines, making Autumn’s stomach hurt. Every time she turned on the news, another bizarre death was being reported in D.C. Every time she heard a siren, she wondered how many more people had died because of the Esri. How many more murders she might have prevented if she hadn’t let that kid go.

A chilly breeze blew a loose wisp of hair in her face as she made her way across the swaying deck of the houseboat to the makeshift desk she’d set up near the back rail. The setting sun over the water blinded her with its brilliance. She grabbed her chair, as much to secure her balance as to move it to the other side of the small table that held her laptop.

Larsen had offered up her unoccupied boat when Autumn had needed a place to stay for a few weeks while her apartment was being repaired after a pipe burst in the unit above hers. In hindsight, she wished she’d taken her less-than-stellar coordination into consideration when she’d decided to live in a moving house. The boat was one of dozens moored at the Top Sail Marina on the Potomac River. Across the river rose the office towers of the very urban Virginia suburbs.

Autumn plopped down in front of her laptop as a pair of gulls cried overhead. For two weeks she’d been trying to find a clue to the other Esri stones. She might not be much of a soldier, but she was a crack researcher, and finding the stones was her only chance to make up for letting that Esri kid go.

Her current research path followed the acquisition records for the Stone of Ezrie: the stone whose scent Baleris had apparently followed to find the gate between the worlds, the stone the Esri called the draggon stone, according to Tarrys. Tarrys was the second of Baleris’s slaves, a pretty little thing, barely five feet tall, who had actually helped them defeat Baleris, then stayed after his death.

Before Baleris’s arrival, the draggon stone had been doing time as a Smithsonian artifact. A thumb-size pale blue teardrop on a silver chain, the thing had appeared innocuous enough. What made it unique was the seven-pointed star etched on its surface and the legend that it was the key to the gates of Ezrie—a legend, it turned out, that was all too true. If the Esri got their hands on that stone and took it back through the gate, the seals on all twelve gates around the world would instantly dissolve. The Esri could still only get through during the midnight hour of a full moon, but the thought of Baleris’s reign of terror times twelve…every month…was enough to give ulcers to the bravest of souls.

She shivered and reached for the zipper on her jacket. If the draggon stone was a key, what was the purpose of the other Esri stones the kid had mentioned? Were they all keys? Or did they serve a different, more ominous purpose? All she knew was they’d better find them before the Esri did.

Her finger smoothed down the copy of the acquisition record she’d copied from the Smithsonian’s archives. The page sat beside her laptop, her coffee mug anchoring it against the breeze. She was hoping the previous owner of the draggon stone had been Sitheen with some ability to sense the power in the stones. If he’d owned the one, maybe he’d owned more. She knew she was grasping at straws, but at the moment it was all she had to go on.

She glanced up at her computer, but a movement in the distance caught her attention. Her gaze snagged on a man striding purposefully down the path to the docks—a tall man with dark hair hanging in wind-tossed waves to his shoulders, framing a face that was all strong bones and hard angles. A face darkened by several days’ growth of beard. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, he looked like some kind of roughrider—sexy and wonderfully dangerous.

As if hearing her thoughts, his head snapped up. He seemed to spear her with his gaze, though he was too far away for her to know if he even saw her. He was probably admiring the sunset. But it still made her pulse race, the fanciful notion that they were destined to meet flitting foolishly through her head.

Which was silly, of course. Even if they were destined to meet, it wouldn’t be in a romantic way. At least not for him. Though she was definitely a woman who attracted attention, it was never the kind any woman wanted. “Damn, you’re tall,” was not a comment designed to quicken the pulse. She’d learned a long time ago that men who looked like this one could have their pick of the female population. And no man with choices chose Ronald McDonald’s Amazonian cousin.

Toying with her coffee mug, she watched him reach the docks and turn her way. Her pulse leaped. Surely he wasn’t coming to see her? With suddenly unsteady hands, she lifted the coffee mug, forgetting its role as paperweight. A gust of wind tore the copied acquisition record out from under the lifted cup and sent it soaring over the rail and into the water like a dying moth.

Autumn’s jaw dropped at the unfairness of her life, then clamped shut with a snap. “Hell’s bells.” She lunged to her feet, looking for something to help her fish the paper from the water before it disintegrated. She spied the long, metal boat hook hanging from the side of the cabin and grabbed it, but the brackets were stiff with rust and refused to let go. With a growl, she curled her fingers around the metal, took a deep breath and yanked as hard as she could.

“Hello.”

The boat lurched behind her at the exact moment the long hook came free. Turning toward the deep, masculine voice, Autumn stumbled, the boat hook swinging wildly in her hands. Before she could catch her balance, the metal struck her visitor in the head with a sickening thud. The very man she’d been drooling over!

With a groan, she squeezed her eyes closed. If only she could be someone…anyone…other than Autumn McGinn.

Chapter 2

Kaderil snatched the cold metal weapon from the woman’s hand, his muscles tensing in preparation for counterattack even as his brain screamed for caution. Human. Fragile. She could do him no damage unless she was Sitheen and knew the death curse.

Was she Sitheen? Is that how she’d so quickly seen through his facade?

The boat rolled lightly beneath his feet, forcing him to adjust his stance for balance. But as he prepared for battle, watching for her next move, his opponent inexplicably closed her eyes. An oddly pained expression crossed her face, confounding him. Was this how she drew her power? Even Sitheen were known to sometimes possess the power of the Esri.

The loud hum of a motorboat on the water sounded in the distance as he waited, muscles bunched, but his gaze never left her face. A detached part of his brain couldn’t help but admire the rare beauty of this human with hair the color of fire, and freckles that dotted the pale perfection of her skin like tiny golden jewels. All his life he’d been surrounded by the white-skinned, pale-haired Esri, the standard of true beauty in his land. But he was finding his eye preferred the more varied, more vibrant coloring of humans. And this woman’s was the most vibrant of them all.

Her eyes opened. He tensed until he realized their clear gray depths shone not with the light of battle, but with regret.

Kaderil stared at her with wary confusion, freezing when she reached for him not with fists or claws, but with the softest of fingers closing around his wrist.

“I’m so sorry.”

Sorry? He watched her, bemused, and allowed her to tug him from the rail.

“Let me look at your head. I can’t believe I hit you.”

She stood half a head shorter than him, yet she pushed him into the flimsy woven chair with ease, so stunned was he by her reaction to him. Women feared him. He demanded their fear! Yet this one dared treat him like an injured child.

Anger, and some dark emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge, had his muscles bunching to right this wrong, but his lucid mind stopped him cold. He must pretend to be human. A nice human, worthy of trust.

He forced himself to remain motionless. To submit. But when her fingers eased into his hair, his hands curled around the chair’s arms until he heard the crack of plastic and felt the sharp bits flake beneath his fingertips. He never let others get this close. Never.

“I’m sorry if I’m hurting you, but I’ve got to find the cut.”

She would find no bleeding gash, of course, but a human would let her look. And he must, as well, no matter how difficult.

He sat as still as the statues that dotted the human’s city, his senses finely tuned to the intriguing creature hovering over him. Her warm, spicy scent filled his nostrils, sliding through his body, sparking an awareness that surprised him. Her fiery braid drew his attention, the color as hypnotic and exciting as the deadly fire it resembled. His gaze followed the sensuous curve of braid across her shoulder and down to where it teased the tip of one well-mounded breast.

His senses swirled in sudden chaos. She stood too close, confusing him with her gentle touch and lack of fear, ambushing him with the unbidden and unwelcome stirring of desire. She was human. He tried to rise, to escape the assault to his senses, but she pressed him down with a perilously soft hand.

“Wait. I haven’t found anything. You’ve got to tell me where it hurts.”

He was about to assure her he felt no pain, to escape this tender assault, when his warrior’s mind reasserted itself, chastising him for allowing the woman to distract him from his mission, even for a moment. He must find out if she knew the Sitheen Larsen Vale. Or whether she was a Sitheen herself. A probe of her mind would tell him much.

He reached for her hand, slid his fingers over hers and nearly forgot what he was about. The sensual chaos focused, his every sense suddenly attuned to that meeting of flesh. Warmth flowed from her hand into his, a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of skin against the chilly air, and everything to do with the woman herself. A warmth that traveled up his arm and spread through his body in a flush of awareness that shifted the very foundations beneath his feet.

“Can you show me where it hurts?” the woman prodded.

Kaderil groaned. The woman muddled his mind.

“Here,” he said, moving her palm a mere hand’s breadth upward. “It hurts here.” He used the opportunity, the skin-to-skin contact, to probe her mind, but what flowed into his head was scarce and strangely garbled. Of no use whatsoever.

Kaderil frowned. The woman wasn’t Sitheen, for if she were, he wouldn’t be able to breach her mind at all. What, then, was blocking him from her thoughts?

The woman tugged her hand loose, her fingers burrowing tenderly through his hair in search of damage. “I don’t see anything.” She leaned to the side, her thick braid swinging free as she met his gaze. “Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should see a doctor.”

The intensity of the worry in those pleasing features made something pull oddly in his chest. “The pain has receded,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

She looked so unhappy, he was almost sorry he had no wounds to offer her.

“Yes.” More than sure. He was immortal. Even if she’d split his head open, the flesh would have quickly mended and she’d have found nothing.

“Good.” Relief flooded her eyes as she released him and stepped back. She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets, retreating into a charming shyness. “So…what can I do for you…other than clobber you in the head?”

His lips twitched. The desire to smile startled him. How long had it been since he’d felt such a need? He grunted with annoyance. He had no time for such foolishness.

Kaderil rose to his full height. “I’m looking for Larsen Vale.”

“Larsen’s not here.” The woman took a step back, but still no fear entered her eyes. A good thing, he had to remind himself. He needed humans not to fear him. Especially this human who apparently knew his prey.

“Are you a friend of hers?” she asked.

“No. I need to find her. She’s in danger.”

She cocked her head, exposing a long expanse of soft, delicate neck. “What do you mean?”

He swallowed the desire she drew so easily in him, needing to play this role with extreme care. “I’ve been having dreams about her. And a man with pure white skin who means to harm her.” He grimaced for effect. “I know that sounds crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you’d think.” Her brows lifted above sharp intelligent eyes, eyes that clearly understood the significance of his words. Either she’d seen Baleris herself, or knew of him and the Esri. A rarity, it seemed. Of the dozens of humans he’d touched, not one had heard the word Esri. Not one knew of the gates between the worlds.

“I need to talk to Larsen,” he said.

The fire-haired beauty hesitated. “Give me your phone number. I’ll have her get in touch with you.”

No, that was unacceptable. Not only was he awkward with the cell phone Ustanis acquired for him, but he had no time to await a phone call. In barely two weeks, the gate would open and his mission must be complete. This woman would help him whether she wished to or not.

He thrust out his hand. “I’m Kade Smith.”

The woman blinked, her gaze softening as she took his hand. “Autumn McGinn.”

As before, he felt an enticing warmth flow between them. His instincts warred between backing away and moving closer until he was in danger of falling into those soft gray eyes. With effort, he did neither.

Instead, holding her hand in his, he thrust thoughts into her head. Thoughts that would make her trust him. He watched her eyes cloud with a confusion that should not be there.

Instead of doing as the foreign thoughts bade her, she merely blinked. Other humans had taken his thoughts as if they were their own. Something was clearly interfering with his small power over her. But even as he debated his next move, she cocked her head.

“Why don’t you come…inside?”

It had worked. “I will.” Belatedly, he added, “Thank you.”

She turned and led him to the door, but as she reached for the handle, she stilled and looked down at her hand as if wondering what she was doing. Already his control over her was slipping. She turned to look up at him, confusion shadowing her eyes.

“I don’t think…” she began.

Kaderil slid his hand beneath her braid, his fingers gliding across the silken skin of her neck. He’d meant merely to touch her, but the unintended intimacy of that touch parted her lips and lit surprised sparks in her eyes, beckoning him as female eyes never did. His pulse quickened. His gaze fell to those ripe, parted lips and he nearly forgot what he was about.

Control. He was attempting to assert some control. He pushed the thought into her head. Invite him inside. But the sparks in her eyes flared into desire.

“Come inside.” Her words were low and husky, sending a rush of need barreling through him.

Had he somehow forced her interest with his touch? No. He couldn’t have. His power over humans ended with the reading of their memories and the pushing of thoughts into their heads. He had no ability to affect their emotions.

Which meant the attraction he saw in her eyes was real. Sweet Esria.

Autumn slid the door open behind her without breaking his gaze, but as she backed into the open doorway, she stumbled over the door’s track, the sensual light in her eyes disappearing in a gasp of dismay.

Kaderil grabbed her arm to steady her, careful not to break her fragile bones.

“Thanks.” She eased out of the doorway to allow him entrance even as she bared her teeth in a grimace. “I’m not always this clumsy.” Color washed her cheeks. “Who am I kidding? Sure I am.”

Her admission surprised him, prompting another urge to smile. He liked her, he realized. An odd and inconvenient reaction to have to a human.

“Call Larsen Vale,” he commanded. “Please.”

The woman peeled off her jacket and tossed it on a stool as she went into the kitchen, revealing a green sweater clinging to soft curves. Jeans covered her slender hips and long, long legs. His body stirred as he watched her charmingly unbalanced walk until she disappeared around the counter. But when she returned, she carried not a phone, but a flashlight.

He stared at her in consternation. Had his thoughts not taken at all?

“Autumn, make the phone call.”

She met his gaze without flinching. “I will. As soon as I’m sure I didn’t give you a concussion. Now, sit down so I can reach you.” Laughter sparkled in her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever said that to anyone before. Except my dad. He’s not as tall as you, but he’s close.”

“Does he also have hair the color of yours?”

“Oh, yes.” The words came out on a sigh. “I got all my quirky traits from my dad. You’d never believe I was related to the rest of my family. My mom’s a five-foot-four blond ballet teacher. Both my sisters look just like her.”

“Their loss.” He wasn’t sure where he’d picked up the term, but the quick grin that lit her face made the breath catch in his throat. She had a smile fit for royalty.

“Thanks.” Her expression turned unaccountably shy. “Now, umm, come sit down so I can check your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“The dilation. I want to make sure I didn’t give you a concussion.” She slid the soft pads of her fingers around the much larger bones of his wrist and tugged him toward the sofa.

Would Esri eyes react like human eyes? He couldn’t be sure and couldn’t take the chance, not when he’d finally made contact with one who could lead him to his prey.

He was about to try to push the thought into her head that his eyes were fine when she glanced back at him with an impish sparkle. “I’ve seen this done on TV a million times.”

The glitter of self-directed humor told him she laughed at herself, but it was the wry quirk of her lips that drew his gaze and aroused his hunger. And when her soft palm pressed against his chest, urging him to sit, he unleashed the desire that had plagued him from the moment her fingers had first eased into his hair. He kissed her, dipping his head and pressing his mouth against the extraordinary softness of her lips.

The woman stiffened at the contact. Her eyes opened wide with surprise, but she showed no fear, and didn’t pull away.

His lips moved over hers lightly, sampling the sweetness of that tempting flesh, drinking the spicy fragrance of her skin. She tasted of honey and cinnamon, and alluring, intoxicating female. He’d had females before, though he’d rarely kissed them, for only those who sought the titillation of fear with their mating came near him. This was so very, very different.

He felt the moment her mouth softened beneath his and began to move, joining the kiss. A sound escaped her throat. Half sigh, half moan. All pleasure.

He didn’t touch her except where their lips met, yet the force of that touch swept him beyond himself, beyond mattering, tugging at places inside him that had lain cold and dormant for too long.

Stirring a need…a weakness…

He pulled away. “I have no concussion.”

The human…Autumn…blinked, her cheeks flushed and rosy, her expression flustered. “I…umm…right. No concussion.” The flashlight slipped from her fingers and thudded against the wooden coffee table, making her jump. She backed away from him, knocking into the table and nearly dislodging a cup, sending it into a precarious wobble. “You…should go. I’ll tell Larsen you were here.”

He shouldn’t have kissed her. Touching her…tasting her…did things to him, weakened him in ways he could ill afford. And with this small aggression, he’d apparently frightened her. A serious mistake when his goal was to win her trust.

His hands fisted and unfisted at his sides as his brain searched for a way to bring her back under his control without frightening her again. Since he couldn’t seem to control her thoughts, perhaps he had no choice but to back away and try to approach her again at a later time. As if he had time.

What a fool he’d been to kiss her, no matter how pleasant he’d found the experience.

“I’ll go, then,” he said reluctantly. “Tell…ask…Larsen to call me.”

“Oh. Right. I need to get your number.” Autumn lifted her palm to her forehead as if trying to gather her wits. As she did, her sweater sleeve dropped, revealing the oddly rustic bracelet twisted around her wrist. It almost looked like…holly. Of course! The plant was scarce in Esria, for it had the disturbing ability to thwart and confound magic. No wonder he’d failed to control her.

If he could get the holly away from her, he might salvage this day’s work after all.

He followed Autumn to the kitchen counter, standing at her elbow where he could easily reach her, watching as she picked up a pen and a small pad of paper.

Not meeting his gaze, she asked, “What’s your number?”

“Two-oh-two,” he began, then slowly reached out to stroke her bracelet. “I like the look of this.” He allowed his fingers to slide across the soft skin of her wrist while he shoved thoughts into her head.

The holly itches. I need to take it off.

“No.” Her voice was a whisper, as if she spoke to herself.

The holly itches. I can’t stand having it touch my skin.

“No, I can’t,” she murmured, but even as she said the words, her other hand grabbed the bracelet, wrenched it off her wrist, and dropped it to the counter.

Kaderil snatched her hand before she gathered her wits, and continued his assault on her mind. I don’t want Kade to leave. I want him to touch me. As long as he could keep hold of her, he could get her to lead him to Larsen Vale.

With her free hand, she rubbed at her wrist where the holly had been, her gaze fixed on her task. Kaderil brushed her fingers aside and stroked the soft skin for her. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” The word was full of confusion, a lost sound that resonated uncomfortably in the hollows of his heart, pricking his conscience.

He pushed the feeling aside. He needed to learn what he could from her, anything that might help him find that draggon stone and destroy the Sitheen. Using the link formed by the press of skin on skin, he reached into her mind and absorbed the wealth of knowledge he found there, an amazing array of facts about archaeology and artifacts, folklore and past human civilizations. And, as often happened when he eavesdropped on a human’s mind, he got little in the way of concrete memories, mostly impressions and opinions.

Beneath his fingers, her pulse began to quicken. He was frightening her again. A poor way to earn her trust. He released her arm and was about to step back, when her gaze lifted to his, stopping him.

There was no fear in her expression. No uncertainty at all. And he realized, suddenly, that it wasn’t fear driving her speeding pulse. Sweet Esria, it was desire. Her eyes fairly blazed with it.

Before he could fully grasp this sudden change in her, she reached for him, pulled his face down, and pressed her mouth hard to his.

Need surged through his body. Shock flooded his brain at the sudden closeness. At the feel of a woman pressed against him, not in fear, but in desire.

His body rose even as his mind rebelled. Too close. He was the Punisher. He kept others at bay for a reason. Just as he never wanted his own people to learn of his great lack of power, he couldn’t let the humans know he was more than human.

He grabbed her shoulders, his mind insisting he push her away. But her tongue swept into his mouth and all thought fled. His arms went around her, pulling her tight against him. He reveled in the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest, her thighs pushing against his.

He fell into the chaos, sliding and twining his tongue with hers, tracing the contours of her teeth and mouth, drinking the passion she’d suddenly, miraculously, given in to. Her hands roamed his back with growing need. He basked in her heat.

Her hands curved around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, telling him in no uncertain terms that she wanted him. The knowledge rocked him. Never had a woman desired him like this, without fear. Without question.

Her hands lowered and she tugged at his arms, pulling them away from her. Confused, he started to retreat from her kiss, but her mouth followed his, drawing him to her as she shoved his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, sliding his palms over her abdomen. The shock of that warm hidden skin sent hot desire rushing through his veins.

She was his. For this moment, for this hour, his mission was forgotten. His reason for being with her was forgotten in the explosion of pure feeling that had become his body. He slid his palms up to cover the silk-draped mounds of her breasts, eliciting a low moan from her throat. The sound of her pleasure, the feel of the soft mounds beneath his palms, nearly sent him over the edge.

His mouth dipped to her neck, tasting her freckles, drawing a delicious shudder from her ripe, ready body. He wanted her. With everything he had, everything he was, he wished he could bury himself deep inside this woman’s heat. Most heady of all was the certainty that she lusted after him every bit as much. Beneath his fingers, her body trembled, begging for release. Her spicy fragrance was a song to his senses, her moans of pleasure driving him to madness. She was made for mating, made for him.

“Touch me,” she begged, then pulled back and yanked her soft shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.

He watched with wondrous anticipation as her hands went to her back to release her bra. But then his gaze flicked to her face, to her eyes, and he froze.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, her eyes filled not with lust, but with frantic need…and panic.

“I need you to touch me,” she whispered brokenly.

His own words came back to him, the words he’d thrust into her head. Somehow he’d done this to her with his careless command. It didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t have this much control over her, but clearly she was not acting on her own.

His body screamed for him to continue. To touch her as she demanded.

But as her bra came loose in her hands, he grabbed her shoulders and thrust new thoughts into her head. I need to put my bra on. Beneath his touch, she stilled and pulled the undergarment tight once more, allowing him only a glimpse of the tantalizing flesh hidden beneath. The moment her bra was secure, her arms went around him.

“Touch me, Kade. I need you to touch me.”

Need quaked through him as he held her, a war raging inside him. He’d forced this on her.

Kaderil’s hands tightened on her back and he kissed her hard, punishing her for his confusion. She met the kiss with equal passion, swamping his senses. He wanted her. He wanted her.

But the fingers she raked through his hair reminded him too well of the way she’d sought to save him from the injury she’d inflicted. In his mind’s eye, he saw again the gentleness of her eyes as she’d sought assurance she hadn’t hurt him.

Kaderil wrenched away from her, breaking the kiss.

“Kade.” Autumn reached for him, try to pull his face back to hers. “I need you.”

He grabbed her band of holly and shoved it into her hand before temptation got the better of him. Slowly, confusion clouded her face, wiping the look of desperation from her eyes.

As he turned and stalked to the window, anger and frustration fueled his steps. In returning her sanity, he’d stripped himself of his own.

He didn’t need her! He only desired her in the most base of ways. And he refused to care that he’d driven to tears the first person to show him true kindness in centuries. He was the Punisher. He demanded fear. Exulted in tears.

Behind him, he heard the brush of cloth, then the soft creak of the sofa. He tried to ignore her, but his body had a will of its own all of a sudden, and he found himself turning back.

Autumn sat, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Foreign emotions raked him. Regret. Pity.

But to his amazement, the sound that broke from her throat was laughter. She lifted her flushed face and clasped her hand to her mouth. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.” Her eyes, miraculously, brimmed with as much humor as chagrin. “I’ve seriously got to date more.”

He stared at her, bemused, as something about her tugged at him, drawing his admiration. There was no doubt he’d distressed her. The tears he’d seen in her eyes told him that clearly. Yet she laughed at herself and met his gaze with strength despite her dismay.

He found himself unaccountably intrigued by her. And uncomfortably drawn to her. He longed for the familiar rightness of the Punisher’s scowl and an end to this pretense of softness. Kaderil the Dark was not a soft man. He was not a kind man.

Yet there was something about this woman that called to that weakness. That tempted him to be both.

He fought to conceal his scowl. He could not let this pretense of weakness become truth. She was a means to an end, nothing more. Even if her gray eyes sparkled with an intelligence, a warmth he’d been seeking all his life.

Kaderil went to sit across from her, resting his arms on his knees, clasping his hands together.

“We both lost control,” he told her, though it was a blatant falsehood. She hadn’t lost control. He’d stolen it from her.

Damp lashes swept up to reveal eyes that held both vulnerability and strength. “I…um…don’t suppose we can forget this happened?” She grimaced, her slender nose wrinkling in a way that set her freckles to dancing, pleasing him. A flirtatious twinkle entered her eyes, making his pulse quicken. “At least until we get to know one another a little better?”

His pulse stuttered at her words. Get to know him better? Overlaying the carnal image was another that left him cold. If she ever truly understood him, she’d know he wasn’t human. And that could never happen.

He could never reveal his true self to her. Nor did he wish to know any more about her. Autumn McGinn was a pawn, nothing more. Already, he feared he’d long be haunted by the feel of her fingers in his hair and the laughter in her eyes.

What had she done to him? What had he done to himself by toying with her?

He’d known the human world could hold any number of potential perils for a dark blood with little power. Little had he expected the greatest danger would turn out to be this female with a smile capable of taming even the fiercest of monsters.

Him.

Chapter 3

Autumn pressed her hands to her overheated cheeks, thoroughly flustered by her mortifying loss of control. The sun’s last golden rays gleamed through the windows, silhouetting Kade Smith’s dark head. He watched her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, eyes that smoldered with the memory of the way she’d attacked him. She’d practically begged him to make love to her!

The hunger he’d stoked with his lips and hands still vibrated along her skin. Never in her life had she felt such an intense desire to be touched. She’d nearly climbed out of her skin with the need to have his hands on her. Which wouldn’t be half as embarrassing if she’d kept the thought to herself.

If only the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Since it showed no sign of cooperating, she rose, looking for another way to escape until her face cooled.

“I’ll…umm…I’ll go call Larsen for you.” He looked up at her, his expression unreadable, as he nodded. He must think she was a complete idiot. “Why don’t you turn on the television or something?”

Without a backward glance, she fled the room to hide in the tiny cabin that was her temporary bedroom, and dialed her friend.

Larsen answered on the first ring. “Hi, Autumn. What’s up?”

My blood pressure, my hormone levels, Kade’s…uh… Autumn groaned and yanked her mind from that thought and back to the conversation she’d intended. “I’ve got a guest, of sorts. I think he’s Sitheen.”

A brief silence answered her announcement, doing nothing for her blood pressure. “Did he tell you that?”

Autumn sighed. “No. He came looking for you. He said he’s had some dreams about a white-skinned man he needs to warn you about.”

“Why didn’t he just call me? I’m in the phone book.”

“I don’t know.” She hadn’t thought to ask. Not real surprising considering what had been on her mind.

“What if he’s Esri?”

Autumn tensed, the word jangling through her like a discordant note. “No. He’s not Esri. He’s…gorgeous. Amazing. And he has dark hair…and a bit of a tan.”

“Autumn…”

“He’s not Esri, Larsen! I’d know.” But as soon as the words were out, she heard how desperate she sounded. Esri were notorious for hiding their true appearance behind glamour. Yes, she was wearing holly, but who was to say holly worked against all Esri? They just didn’t know the extent of the magic these creatures were capable of.

Autumn sank to the bed, her pulse beginning to trip with real fear. “Larsen…what if he is Esri? What do I do?” Tackling this man to the ground wasn’t going to be an option.

Though it might be fun.

She groaned.

“Do you feel threatened at all?” Larsen asked.

“No.” Hot, flustered and thoroughly in lust. But, no, not threatened.

“All right. I hate to ask this of you, but it’s important, Autumn. It could be critical. If he’s Esri, he’s either after the draggon stone or he’s after us.” The Sitheen. “He’s using you to get to us, so he’s not likely to do anything to give himself away. I honestly don’t think you’re in any immediate danger, Autumn. They may be murdering bastards, but they’re smart. If he’s one of them, we need to turn the tables on him. Are you game?”

“Yes. Of course.” What choice did she have?

“I want you to stall him until I can get hold of the guys. It could take me a little while, so maybe offer to fix him dinner or something. I’m hoping it won’t take more than an hour or so.”

Autumn fell back on the bed, her head swimming, her skin crawling with chills. Kade really could be Esri, as much as she hated to admit it. And she had to fix him dinner?

“If anyone’s going to walk into a trap it’s going to be him, not us,” Larsen continued. “Autumn…be careful. I don’t like the idea of you alone with a strange man, no matter who he is.”

A man she’d practically thrown herself at. Her chills intensified. I might have been kissing an Esri. Even now, he stood in the next room, waiting for her.

God. “Larsen?”

“Yes?”

“Hurry.”

“I will. Be careful, Autumn.”

She closed the phone and lay on the bed, unmoving. It almost made sense that he was Esri, that he’d somehow fashioned himself to look like every dark fantasy she’d ever had. Tall, dark, dangerously handsome. She tried to imagine what he might really look like—the pasty-white skin and pale hair. Was it possible? No. She’d know. Somehow she’d know.

He wasn’t Esri. He wasn’t evil. Then again, if he was Esri, he had magic and everything she knew about him was a lie and had been from the start.

She pressed her hand to her forehead. Dear God, what was she going to do? How in the world was she supposed to carry on a polite conversation with a man who could be plotting her rape and murder as easily as her seduction? She couldn’t let on that she suspected him of being more than he claimed. If he was Esri…if he got suspicious, he might take off. And she couldn’t afford to lose a second Esri. Even she couldn’t be that clumsy.

With a groan, she forced herself up. Hiding in the bedroom wasn’t an option, however appealing it might sound. She stumbled twice on her way back to the living room and seriously hoped the boat was rocking more than normal. If not, she was losing what little coordination she had. The sun had finally set, leaving the room in shadows.

Kade looked up from his examination of one of the wall prints, but she kept her gaze averted as she turned on a table lamp, not ready to face him after her mortifying lack of control. And not sure she could keep her doubts about who he was out of her eyes.

But as she crossed to the kitchen and flicked on the light, she felt his gaze on her, felt it vibrate along her skin, and felt her body warm all over again. Oh, this was not good. What if she lost control and tried to strip him this time? Oh, for heaven’s sake, he could be Esri.

Taking a deep breath, she rounded the counter into the kitchen, desperate to reclaim some measure of equilibrium. Or at least the pretense of it. With the counter safely between her and the man who literally and figuratively filled the room, she finally gathered the courage to look up.

He met her gaze, his expression guarded. And what did that mean? That he was hiding something…or that he was afraid she was going to attack him again?

If only the floor would swallow her.

The boat swayed, forcing her to grab hold of the counter for support. She swallowed, praying her voice would sound close to normal.

“I talked to Larsen. She wants to meet you after work. You can follow me over there in your car if you want to wait. It shouldn’t be much more than an hour.”

“I took the Metro. But if I can ride with you, I’ll wait.” A gleam that might be satisfaction glimmered in his eyes. But it didn’t prove he was Esri. He’d come looking for Larsen. Naturally, he’d be satisfied he was going to get to meet her. And if she doubted every single thing he said, every flick of his eyebrow, she was going to make herself insane.

“Are you hungry? I thought I’d fix dinner.”

At the mention of food, that guarded expression in his eyes disappeared. His eyes positively lit up. “I’m hungry.”

She laughed. “Of course you are.” And what a stereotypical reaction of a male to food. This proved it, didn’t it? He couldn’t be Esri. She’d never heard anything about Baleris demanding food. Virgins, yes. But not food.

Kade Smith was definitely human. And if she could just keep convincing herself of that, maybe she could manage to get dinner on the table.

She started the rice, then pulled vegetables out of the fridge with hands that would not quit shaking, despite her insistence he wasn’t a threat. But hormones were as bad as nerves and as long as he was in the room, they weren’t about to settle down. As if she weren’t clumsy enough. She managed to rinse the vegetables without mishap, then grabbed a knife and a green pepper and started chopping.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kade move to the bar on the other side of the counter. He leaned on it, watching her, shredding the few nerves she had left. Her fingers fumbled the knife, sending it clattering to the cutting board.

With a groan, she snatched it up and tried again.

“What are you making?” The rich timbre of Kade’s too-near voice rattled her even as it sank into her pores, sliding over her skin like liquid silk. Was this how he enchanted her? With his sexy voice? Stop it.

“I’m…uh…I’ve got this great recipe for a Mexican stir-fry. Is that okay?”

“I like all food.”

Why didn’t that surprise her? The guy had to be close to seven feet tall. Again, she made the mistake of looking up and found his gaze on her face. Those blue, blue eyes caught her, making her pulse lift and soar at the look of hunger in their depths. Hunger she could almost imagine was directed at her, not her vegetables, though she knew better. The knife slipped out of her agitated fingers and clattered to the cutting board once again.

With a rueful sigh, she said, “You’d better go watch TV. I’m not doing well with an audience. At this rate, dinner won’t be ready until next Tuesday.”

His mouth twitched, gentle laughter warming his brilliant eyes, setting a tingling excitement loose in her body like the bubbles from a soft drink. He wasn’t Esri. She simply couldn’t believe magic could create such perfect sparkles in his eyes, or that even through enchantment she could feel the bubbly excitement of a brand-new crush. Because that was exactly the way she felt. Excited.

Kade rose and took off his leather jacket, revealing a T-shirt that accentuated his hard, muscular arms. Instead of moving to the living room as she’d suggested, he came around the counter and picked up the knife she’d dropped, nudging her aside with his hip. “I have a little experience with cooking.”

His warm masculine scent washed over her, his overwhelming nearness stole the air from the room. She took a hurried step back, not wanting to be tempted to craziness a second time. She tried to calm her fluttering pulse as she leaned against the counter and watched him wield the knife with expert precision, his muscles flexing and bulging in all the right places.

“You look like a professional.”

“I’m not good with sauces and seasonings, but I can handle a knife well enough.” He looked up, capturing her with his gaze as the pepper disappeared beneath his blade. “What else do you need me to chop?”

Autumn grabbed the counter as the boat bobbed, then handed him the red pepper, onion and tomato. “I didn’t mean to put you to work.”

His mouth twisted with a wry hint of humor. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll…um…get the rest of the ingredients.” They worked together surprisingly well, getting everything into the skillet. Despite Kade watching her, she managed to stir and cook the food without a single additional mishap.

Dinner was almost ready when he leaned over the skillet and sniffed, a look of sheer pleasure on his ruggedly handsome face. “It smells good.”

“Thanks.” She felt suddenly shy at the sincere compliment.

He turned that look on her, pleasure lighting his eyes and playing around his mouth.

Happiness bubbled out of her throat in a laugh, drawing a full smile from him at last, a smile that was endearingly boyish and a little lopsided, crinkling his eyes at the corners. Her heart flipped over in her chest. She swallowed a gasp and turned quickly back to the skillet. What was she doing?

She was falling for him. Flat-out falling for him. And she didn’t know how to stop.

When the rice started sticking to the bottom of the pan, she moved the skillet to a cool burner and turned off the stove.

“Finished?” Kade asked hopefully.

“As ready as it’s going to be.” She looked at him uncertainly, wondering how big a fool she was making of herself. He was so out of her league. But as she reached for the plates, something crashed outside, making her stop. The wild clanking of the dock lines told her it was just the wind, but in the next instant, a crack of thunder had her running for the door.

“My laptop!” She’d left it outside.

The wind buffeted her as she dove out the door. Sea spray stung her face, but she pushed toward the back deck and the small table she’d used earlier. The chair had fallen over, but her computer was where she’d left it, thank goodness. The sky had turned dark fast with the rising storm. A distant flash lit the clouds, followed by a low roll of thunder. She grabbed the laptop, and turned to find Kade right behind her.

“We’ve got to get this furniture in the hatch,” she said, yelling over the howl of the wind. “It’s here.” She took three steps and tapped the hatch door beneath her foot. “I’ll be right back.”

She escaped into the relative calm of the houseboat, deposited her laptop on the kitchen counter and grabbed the hatch keys so she could lock up once everything was stored. When she returned to the deck, Kade was lowering the table into the hatch, but the chair that had fallen over was on the move again. Lifted on a gust of wind, it was bounding across the deck, end over end, toward the rail.

The boat rocked on the swells, making walking nearly impossible, but that chair belonged to Larsen and she wasn’t going to lose it. She lunged for it, lurching across the deck. But as she reached for the escaping furniture, she lost her balance and tipped toward the rail. For one dismal instant, she prepared herself for an icy swim. But at the last moment, a strong arm snagged her around the waist and hauled her against a rock-solid chest.

“I’ve got you.”

Autumn collapsed against him, heart pounding in her throat, then noticed the chair tight in his other hand. “Nice catch.”

A low sound that might have been laughter vibrated against her back. “I wouldn’t let you escape me that easily.”

The boat bobbed, but held by his strong arm, she didn’t stumble. Couldn’t fall. She felt safe. Protected. And for the first time in years…not alone.

She turned to face him. Their gazes met and locked in the flash of distant lightning and she caught a glimpse of his face, of a brooding intensity in his eyes. Her heart, still thudding from her near fall, began to race as her storm-whipped senses became focused only on the man. The pressure in her chest increased and she lifted her hand and pressed it against his cheek. Gone was the crazed out-of-control need that had gripped her before. In its place was a need for connection as deep as her soul.

As the wind tossed his loose hair, he lowered his face to hers. His mouth brushed hers, gently at first then with more insistence, sending warm desire flowing through her, sliding through her limbs. He tasted like heaven and smelled like the forest and the sea joined in a battle as old as the stars. She wanted this, wanted him, and she kissed him back, losing herself in a whirlwind of sensations. The feel of his strong arm around her, the slide of his tongue against hers drove her excitement with the rising storm.

Lightning lit the sky with a crack of close thunder and the first large raindrops landed on their heads. Slowly Kade pulled back, releasing her mouth even as he continued to hold her. His expression was lost to the shadows until another flash of lightning illuminated his face, revealing a longing in his eyes she didn’t understand. Almost a loneliness.

The raindrops began a steady bombardment and they pulled apart. As one, they ran for the hatch. Kade dropped the chair inside and Autumn locked the door then ran for sanctuary. She closed the door behind them and sank back against the cool glass, raindrops tickling her cheeks. Kade ran his hands through his hair, flinging the droplets everywhere, showering her anew.

“Kade!” She laughed and looked at him, but the expression in his eyes caught her fast, silencing her. She couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away. They weren’t even touching, yet she’d never felt so close to another, so aware of another, in her life. She felt as if he could see into her soul and learn all her fears and secrets. And if she looked closely enough, she could learn his.

Her pulse throbbed with an ache of recognition and the illogical certainty that this man was the one she’d been waiting for.

“Autumn…”

The ring of the phone interrupted whatever he was going to say, breaking that gossamer thread of connection. She ran to grab the phone from the counter.

“Autumn, it’s Larsen. We’re ready. Drive to Charlie’s and give me a call when you reach the parking garage. I’ll tell you where to meet us.”

“Okay. Bye, Larsen.”

Autumn slowly pushed her phone into her pocket, chilled suddenly by the thought of dragging Kade into the Sitheens’ trap. She didn’t have a choice. If she was right, and Kade Smith was the good, decent man she believed, he’d forgive her. Eventually.

And if she was wrong? Then he was Esri and he deserved to die. There was nothing she could…or would…do to stop it. Though she had a feeling she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Chapter 4

She’d enchanted him. That was the only explanation.

Kaderil stared into the dark at the lights glowing from the windows of passing buildings as Autumn drove him to meet Larsen Vale. The wiper screeched on the now dry windshield and Autumn turned it off, the rain already having stopped.

She couldn’t have enchanted him, of course. The woman was fully human. But he struggled for a better explanation for the weakness that grew worse with every moment he spent in her company. He’d smiled at her! He’d told himself he wouldn’t kiss her again, yet every time he was in reach of her he could think of nothing else.

The time he’d known her was less than the blink of an eye, yet already she filled his mind. It infuriated him. He was the Punisher, not some besotted fool of an Esri lord.

He would not let her control his thoughts this way. But even as the thought went through his mind, he found his head swiveling to the left, his gaze once more seeking her out.

Unable to fight his traitorous fascination, he drank his fill. Even in the shadows he could make out the shape of her pleasing profile, her slender nose and full, sweet-tasting mouth. Her taste still lingered on his tongue, stirring unwanted need all over again.

Enchanted. That was the only possibility.

The last thing he wanted was to be attracted to her, a human, the very human who was leading him to his prey. He resented the kick of guilt that plagued him.

The Punisher was without guilt. Without conscience. He did his duty with little thought and no remorse. But with every moment Kaderil spent in this woman’s company, forced to pretend to be the nice human, Kade Smith, he felt the Punisher slipping a little more out of his grasp.

Kaderil forced himself to go back to looking out his window, but his hungry gaze wouldn’t be denied. Within moments, he found his head swiveling back toward Autumn. The lights of a passing car illuminated her face fully, revealing a tenseness around her eyes and that lush mouth, a tenseness that made him wonder what was going on inside her head. Did the driving require such deep concentration?

Autumn glanced at him, licking her lower lip with an unconscious nervousness that caught his attention and gave him pause.

“I’m sorry you had to eat so quickly.”

“I didn’t mind. Eating quickly didn’t diminish my enjoyment.”

She nodded and returned her gaze to the road, but cleared her throat in a way that told him she had something more to say. “Kade, I need to tell you something. You’ve had some weird dreams, right? About a white-skinned man? Do you know who he is? What he is?”

Kaderil relaxed, realizing her nervousness was a result of uncertainty over how to broach the subject of the Esri with a fellow human who knew nothing. She was easing into it gently, as he was coming to understand was her nature.

He searched his borrowed thoughts for an appropriate response, remembering a thought he’d plucked from her own brain. “Is he an albino?”

A smile flickered over her lips, but didn’t ease the tension that gripped her eyes. “No.” She glanced at him again, cringing as if with apology. “He’s not human.”

What was the appropriate response to such a statement? His pulse quickened as he struggled for the right words. He’d done well so far. He’d be a fool to blow this now. Humans doubted. A human would not accept such a statement easily, if at all.

“Of course he’s human,” he said.

The woman at his side looked away, glancing toward her own side window. “I know you’re going to think I’m nuts, but just listen. Please? It’s important.”

Safe in silence, Kaderil relaxed and listened to her melodious voice as she launched into a fairly accurate explanation of his race and his mission, explaining how Baleris had terrorized the D.C. area several months ago, raping virgins and attempting to kill the Sitheen.

“We know a certain amount about Esria now,” she said. “There are many races, but the Esri are the ones with the most power. They ignore most of the other races and have enslaved the Marceils. The Marceils look like small humans, most five feet tall or less. The Esri can’t enchant them like they can us, but they can control their actions.”

She slowed in front of a large building and put on her blinkers. “I’m talking too much. And I know this is all too hard to believe. But just keep an open mind, okay?”

She didn’t seem to require an answer, which was all for the good, since he wasn’t certain he could express adequate disbelief of something he knew so well.

Autumn parked, then without looking at him, pulled out her cell phone. “It’s me. We’re here.” A pause. “Okay. I’ll see you in a minute.”

She flashed him a weak, apologetic smile, but said nothing more, to his great relief, as they got on the elevator. He didn’t have time to play the doubter for longer than absolutely necessary. He must make Larsen Vale believe he was Sitheen and sincerely interested in helping them catch the Esri, if he stood any chance of finding that draggon stone in time. Two short weeks. And Larsen Vale was just the first of the Sitheen. The gatekeeper to the rest. Perhaps, between his own supposed dreams and Autumn’s explanation in the car, he could pretend to have already reconciled himself with the truth of the Esri by the time he was introduced to the Sitheen female.

The elevator came to a halt at the top floor and the doors opened. Autumn preceded him into the hall and motioned him to follow. Soon she pushed through a door into a small stairwell and climbed. Kaderil followed, his gaze falling to the enticing curve of her hips, stirring again the desire that he feared wouldn’t cease as long as he was in her company.

At the top of the stairs, Autumn opened yet another door and stepped outside into the cool, damp darkness of the night. The roof. An odd place to meet a lone woman.

His hackles rose, his instincts leaping to alert. Not a lone woman. He sensed others. At least three others. And suddenly he understood. Autumn wasn’t taking him to meet Larsen Vale. She’d brought him to the Sitheen. On the roof. In the dark. A trap.

Fool.

He’d been so taken with her, so enchanted with her beauty, he’d failed to see the treachery within.

The deceiver had become the deceived.

Even as his muscles bunched for attack, his calmer mind yelled a warning for caution. It might be a test. A test he would fail if he started hurling bodies.

But how could he know until it was too late? These were likely the very humans who’d used the death chant on Baleris. These Sitheen could end his existence this very night.

And if he returned to Esria without the draggon stone, his life would be as good as over anyway. If there was the slightest chance this was a test, he must not attack. If there was the slightest chance he could infiltrate this group, he must take it. He had to make them think he was human, no matter what.

And if he failed? If there was no doubt they knew he was Esri, he would kill as many of them as he could before they started the death chant. Once they started chanting, if they touched him with flame, his long existence would end. Once they started chanting, it was too late.

The cutting breeze raked ominous fingers across his cheeks. Sharp gravel crunched beneath his heels, ratcheting the tension in his spine. Every muscle in his body readied for battle.

The shadowed forms of three men moved into his line of vision, one moving behind him, cutting off escape.

“Jack?” Autumn’s voice held a sharp note of apprehension.

“Come here, Autumn,” the voice behind him said.

He felt the brief grip of her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and moved away.

Was it a test?

In a savage instant, the answer became clear. Fire erupted around him in a blinding flash. The grim sound of the Esrian death chant filled the night.

He was going to die.

Fifteen hundred years he’d lived and this was to be his end!

The heat licked at Kaderil’s courage. Three men surrounded him, encircling him in a ring of fire, their threatening faces lost behind the blinding flame. The fire scorched his spirit as he faced the inevitable thrust that would bring his death.

The death chant rose on the night air.

He was a fool! He’d let his weakness for this temp-tress blind him to treachery. And now he would pay with his very existence.

Tension seared his muscles, strangling his spine. Trapped. Unable to fight. If not for the death chant, he would fly through the flames and attack those who would end him, but the moment the flames touched his skin, the chant would dissolve his existence in a shower of light.

His heart thundered in his chest as he turned, looking for escape, but he was well and truly trapped. Waiting.

Waiting. It suddenly dawned on him his attackers weren’t striking. He shielded his eyes against the flare of light and studied the face of the dark-haired human who was doing the chanting. In his eyes, he saw not deadly intent, but wariness. Watchfulness.

Waiting.

A test. A test he would fail if he didn’t stop acting like an Esri expecting death. His brain scrambled for a suitably human reaction.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he growled. “If you burn me, I swear, I’ll sue you for all you’re worth.”

The death chant ended abruptly. Kaderil’s muscles bunched to leap and attack while he had the chance. He fought the need of the Punisher and forced himself to remain motionless. He must convince them he was human. The time to kill would come later.

His heart thudded in his chest as he watched the dark-haired human’s gaze shoot to another’s, a flash of amusement passing over his features. “Sue?” But when the man’s gaze returned to Kaderil, his eyes were once more grave. “Take off your coat.”

Kaderil did as he was told, peeling off the leather jacket with hands damp with sweat, then dropped it at his feet. To his surprise, the dark-haired man picked up the piece of clothing and ran his hands over it briskly.

“Shake his hand, Jack,” one of the others said pointedly. The man’s words sent tension twisting through Kaderil’s already taut muscles. Like the Esri, Sitheen could have any of an infinite array of gifts. What magic did the man possess that was about to be turned against him?

As the dark-haired man handed him back his jacket, he thrust out his hand. “I’m Jack Hallihan.”

Kaderil had no choice. He wiped his damp palm on his jeans and extended his hand. As the distance between them closed, he felt an odd tingling along the surface of his skin. Magic, but of a kind he’d never before encountered. Not magic so much as the promise of it.

As their hands made contact, an odd jolt shot up Kaderil’s arm. Not painful, not exactly. But neither was it pleasant. An electric jolt, his borrowed thoughts told him, though he knew he’d never experienced such.

“Kade Smith.” Kaderil’s tone was unfriendly and wary, but he couldn’t do a thing about it. Probably any man’s would be the same under the circumstances, human or Esri.

Jack grasped his hand longer than was customary, then released him and went silent. His gaze turned distant as if he were listening to something no one else could hear. The others waited with an air of expectation that had Kaderil’s heart pounding. Somehow Jack Hallihan could identify an Esri.

“A mix of human and Esri blood like the rest of us,” Jack said, finally. “Though he has a lot more magic.”

“So he’s Sitheen?” the second man prompted.

“Yes. And a damn strong one.”

Kaderil stared at him. The human, Jack, was wrong. He was not Sitheen. Either the man had no true gift or he was lying. Kaderil knew he had a small amount of human blood running through his veins, but he was Esri and immortal.

“What did you do?” he demanded. “Why do you think you know the mix of my blood?”

A low chuckle rumbled from Jack’s throat, a sound of honest, if wry, humor. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Sorry for the theatrics. I’m not sure how much Autumn told you, but we’re dealing with an enemy of unknown abilities. We can’t be too careful.”

Jack’s voice had lost its tightness. As he spoke, warmth slowly replaced the chill. Unless the human was a skilled actor, it seemed he believed his assertion that Kaderil was Sitheen. Human.

Kaderil’s knees nearly buckled with relief. Whatever the man’s gift, it had failed. The tightness began to seep out of his muscles. The first step of his mission appeared to be complete, but he would be a fool to take these humans for granted again.

The remaining torches went out, the harsh light replaced by the soft glow of man-made illumination. An electric lantern, his borrowed knowledge told him. He could finally see beyond the ring of fire and his gaze sought Autumn. He found her standing in the shadows, watching him, her expression one of misery.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

Oddly, just seeing her calmed him until he could breathe again.

His attention was snatched back to the circle as the two other men joined Jack. The pair possessed a similarity of facial features that spoke of close relation, though they were built dissimilarly. The taller, more muscular of the two stepped forward. His hair was light and short, his expression friendly.

“I’m Charlie Rand. Welcome to the team.” He gave an admiring grin as he met Kade’s gaze. “How did the NBA miss you?”

The third man stepped forward. “I’m Harrison Rand.” No expression crossed his serious face, but when he said “Welcome,” acceptance warmed his eyes.

They were too close, but he forced himself to stay where he was, to accept their attention. He must pretend to be human. A nice human.

The soft thud of Jack’s palm landed on his shoulder and he tensed for the burst of pain before his mind reminded him he was with humans now, not Zander. “Autumn says you’ve had some dreams about my wife.”

Autumn entered the circle cast by the lamplight, easing the feeling of constriction in his chest. The woman with her, a tall blonde, approached him without fear.

“Welcome, Kade. I’m Larsen Vale…Larsen Hallihan.” She threw Jack an apologetic smile. “We just got married. I’m still not quite used to the name change.” She held out her hand to him, a smile of genuine welcome on her face. “You’re one of us, now.”

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