Daddy.

Her stomach dropped. This hurt a million times worse than she’d thought it would. Beck wasn’t giving up and going away. She’d have to tell him the rest of Brigid’s warning. Otherwise, he would never understand why she couldn’t let him within ten miles of their child.

Thank goodness Dani was safely hidden.

Knowing she had to choose her words carefully, she squared her shoulders. “The Seer, Brigid, was very specific in her warning.”

“The Vampire Priestess? She’s also a seer?”

“Yes. Her magic is powerful and she can see things.” Another deep breath. “She warned me against you and your kind.”

“You don’t think I …” Eyes narrowed, as he stared at her, a muscle worked in his jaw. “I would never hurt a child, especially my own daughter. She meant someone else, not me.”

“More than anything, I want to believe you. But I can’t take a chance. I’m sorry, but that’s why I go alone. I trust no one. Not even you.”

Dear Reader,

There is much to celebrate in life. Oftentimes, caught up in the daily hustle and grind, we lose sight of that. Sometimes it takes a miracle to make us recognize truly how lucky we are. I try to count my blessings daily—hourly if I remember—and even the smallest things—a perfect butterfly, a blooming flower, the way the sun colors the clouds ocher—are causes for celebration.

It’s not always like that, nor will it be. I know into every life occasionally comes darkness, sweeping in and throwing a black cloak over the sun. Such is the case with my Lone Wolf, Pack Protector Anton Beck. Still mourning the loss of his sister and having given up searching for his mate, an unlikely Vampire Huntress named Marika, Beck is living a solitary life when he is granted a miracle. A daughter. Now not only are vampire/shape-shifter matches frowned upon, but since they are technically dead, Vampires are unable to bear living children. That Marika not only does this, but raises the miracle child in secret, is another thing to marvel at. That is, if Beck could see past his rage at being lied to.

Of course, a child that shouldn’t exist is very valuable and is hunted, and Beck and Marika’s journey to not only protect her but find and stop the ones who want to take her, is in itself something to celebrate. Love can clear back the blackest darkness and bring a spectacular ocher sunrise, if only you let it into your heart.

I hope you enjoy reading the Lone Wolf.

Karen Whiddon

About the Author

KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amidst the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty of the rugged peaks and spun stories of love that captivated her family’s attention.

Karen now lives in North Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing the contemporary romantic suspense and paranormal romances that readers enjoy. You can e-mail Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182, USA. Fans of her writing can also check out her website, www.KarenWhiddon.com.

Lone Wolf

Karen Whiddon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my husband Lonnie and my daughter Stephanie—my own two miracles

Chapter 1

His dashboard clock showed one minute after midnight. The patrons spilling from the doorway of Addie’s Bar were well into their partying, reeling around the parking lot laughing and shouting.

Anton Beck parked his truck and turned the ignition off, feeling the loud bass thump of the music all the way out here. Smoke curled from the open windows, a blue haze that reminded him of the morning mists of Vancouver Island, one of his favorite places on earth.

But this was Alpine, Texas, and even at this late hour, heat still shimmered from the dry earth in muted waves. Now that his air conditioner no longer blew, the heat made beads of perspiration break out on his forehead. He needed to get out of the truck and begin what he’d come to do.

Still he sat, unwilling yet to take the steps necessary to take him inside. A headache had begun to throb behind his eyes, the kind that promised to explode into a full-blown migraine if he wasn’t careful. The noise level inside the bar just might be enough of a trigger to send him staggering for a quiet place to lie down. He hoped not. Not tonight, of all nights. Such a thing was not possible.

Swallowing, he hesitated. Once he stepped onto the gravel, he knew the memories would swirl around him, haunting him with the aching familiarity of grief. Stark contrast to the riotous nightlife going on in and around the bar.

A bar was the last place he wanted to be tonight, any night, actually. But this was a special night, and this was Addie’s Place. Addie was the nearest person he had to family, and this was the closest thing he had to home. He needed to say hello to her, to let her wrap him in her flower-scented arms and hug him, while feeding him tortillas and tamales. As though her rich, sinful food could help him begin healing the scars that pockmarked his soul.

But first, he needed to focus on his sister. This night, he had a ritual to complete. He had made a small cross outside the bar, near the rise and the twisted tree. Every year he came on the same date to light a candle and stand guard over the marker that noted the spot where his baby sister, Juliet, had been killed. He’d never forgiven himself for her death. She’d been here to meet him, after all. And he’d been running late.

Growing up, he’d always wanted to watch over her, keep her safe. Being taken away by the Pack to become a Protector had made this impossible. But he’d done what he could. In this instance, he’d failed tremendously. His own mother hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now, three years had passed, and each year he felt the burden of guilt heavier on his shoulders.

A group of vampires strolled past his truck, laughing quietly amongst themselves. Their pale skin gleamed in the moonlight, beautiful and icy. Beck couldn’t help but admire them, even knowing that at one time in the distant past, they’d been his sworn enemy.

And, as had become habit now, he searched all their faces, compulsively seeking one that was less than perfect, yet still lovely. Marika, his sister’s best friend. She’d disappeared after Juliet had died, making him wonder if she’d had something to do with her death. If he ever saw her again, he planned to ask her.

Though he’d not yet found her, he hadn’t given up hope. Vampires these days humored him. Once, staring too long would have been seen as an insult and caused a battle.

Juliet had endured a lot of flack for her friendship with Marika. Shape-shifters and vampires just didn’t mix.

Beck had proven this even further by his one misstep with his sister’s best friend. Though Juliet had never known about their brief affair, he’d never forgiven himself. He and Marika had been together when Juliet had been killed. The memory, even now so ragged and painful, made him flinch.

Shaking off the ache in his chest and the nagging hurt in his head, Beck got out of the car. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and headed toward the bar. Before he could see Addie’s welcoming smile, he had a pilgrimage to make.

He patted his hunting-vest pocket, making sure his bottle of rotgut was still there. It was. Though he would have welcomed company, specifically Marika’s, without her this salute was better made alone. When he’d finished, then and only then, he could go inside and accept comfort from the woman who’d loved them both like her own.

Trudging up the slight rise, he stared out over the moonlit land that seemed to go on forever, unbroken except for sagebrush and cactus. In the distance, the mesa rose, dark purple against the night sky, a tribute to ancient gods from a long-forgotten past.

He’d long ago tried to make his peace with them, settling finally for an uneasy compromise.

Each step brought him closer to hell.

Here. He slowed as he reached the spot. The marker, a stylized ankh carved in granite, had been well-tended, and someone had placed a foil-wrapped planter of tulips in front. Addie.

Beck smiled slightly, making a mental note to thank her later.

He dropped to his knees on the soft grass and pulled out his bottle, barely wetting his lips before he spoke. “Hey, Jules,” he said softly. “Me again.”

The answering silence felt full of condemnation.

This time, he took a swig in earnest, the pungent whiskey burning down his throat. When he’d finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I haven’t found your killer, not yet. But I promise you I won’t give up.”

No answer, of course. There never was.

Beyond him, in the undulating land toward the mesa, he heard the muted sounds of nature in the night, behind him, human noises of revelry enhanced by alcohol and music.

With a sigh, he took one more slug of the whiskey. He thought of all the things he’d like to say to his sister, of everything that had happened in the past year, without her. He missed Jules, missed her badly, and, though he knew this would never bring her back, he raised the whiskey bottle to begin his third and final toast.

Something or someone slammed into him from behind, knocking the bottle out of his hand and sending whiskey flying.

Beck twisted, ready to fight. He cursed the stupidity that had made him let his guard down, cursed, too, the fact that he couldn’t even mourn without some bozo wanting to prove his manhood.

More than one. There were three of them, swaying slightly from drink, felt hats pulled low to keep the moonlight from revealing their faces. Two humans and a shifter, wearing his long hair in a thick braid down his back.

Beck got in one good left hook, connecting with a satisfying crunch. He felt confident he broke that guy’s jaw, before one of the others picked up his whiskey bottle and smashed him hard over the back of the head.

In the dark place where they’d confined her, Marika Tarus bit back her rage and bided her time. Eventually, her captors would grow careless. Someone would open the cement sarcophagus to check on her and then, she’d attack. She’d channel all her anger and pain into building her strength.

The rough cement no longer felt cold or hard. She allowed herself no sensations, nothing but the all-consuming fury that heated her from within. She was patient—one didn’t live a few hundred years without learning that trait—and she could wait until she was given the opportunity to escape. When they did give her that chance, she’d flee. But first, she’d extract her vengeance.

All vampires knew not to mess with a Vampire Huntress. Now these stupid humans would know, too.

She moved, the tiny effort bringing a slash of pain. They’d broken her legs and shattered her kneecaps, but her body had already mostly healed. Vampires healed quickly. She’d been able to move her legs without pain after two days and, though something still felt wrong, knew she’d be able to walk once she got to her feet.

If she got to her feet. How long were they going to keep her locked up in total darkness? And for what reason? No matter what they did to her, she’d never tell them what they wanted to know.

Once she’d refused to answer their questions, they’d beaten and tortured her, then put her into her current prison. It had taken all three of them to lift the lid and slide the massive stone over her. This was the only thing heavy enough to contain her vampiric strength. Otherwise, she’d have escaped long ago.

They’d given her injections, too—some kind of sedative. At first, the drug had knocked her for a loop, but the drowsy fog had worn off after a few hours.

The fools believed they were winning. Keeping her here, they believed if she were deprived of nourishment—blood—long enough, she’d grow weak. She’d heard them discussing how long it could be before she wasted away. Their theory was eight weeks, tops. She’d smiled grimly in the absolute darkness. They had no idea how many months a vampire of her age could go without drinking. One more advantage she’d have, were they ever foolish enough to release her.

For now, she lay in her silent prison and waited.

Confinement in the small, airless space would have made her feel claustrophobic if she’d been human. Since she was quite used to squeezing into tiny places, the prison tomb didn’t bother her. Yet. No doubt they were hoping her enforced solitude would eventually drive her mad.

They didn’t know, she thought, grinning savagely to herself, she’d gone mad three years ago to the day. Knowing her best friend had died in her place, because of her sins, had made her that way.

Now, she had one thing to live for. Her daughter. She’d never betray Dani, no matter what they did to her.

Beck came to trussed up like a turkey, being transported in the back of a pickup truck. With each bounce and dip of the tires, his body slammed against the metal bed. The haze of pain made him grimace, though his first thought was of Addie. She’d worry when he didn’t show up for their annual remembrance.

Finally, they arrived somewhere, and the truck stopped. All three of his captors climbed in the truck bed then, standing around him as though debating their next move.

“Where is she?” One of them—the one who was also a shifter—kicked him, hard. “Tell us, or we’ll kill you both.”

He grunted, glaring up at them. Blood ran in a slow trickle from a cut on his head. He itched to wipe it away, but with his hands tied, he couldn’t.

She? “Who?” he managed to croak.

Instead of answering, his captor slapped him, hard enough to send his head ricocheting against the metal side.

Stars exploded and his vision blurred. While he gasped for breath, fighting against the pain, they waited, watching. One of them grinned like a fool. Beck wanted to smash that one’s face in.

And he still had no idea what they wanted.

Damn. The world had gone insane. When the two other men lifted him and held him, one on each arm, Beck stared blankly at his attacker, wishing he could clear his head enough to think and plan. And change.

Instead, he stalled again, with truth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another punch, this time to the gut. Beck doubled over, retching.

“Where is she?” Same question, same intonation.

Tell us what we want to know, or we’ll torture you until you can take no more.

“Tell us. Where is she?”

“Who?” Beck cried out. “Come on, buddy. Give me a break. You have the wrong man.”

The tall, wiry shifter stepped back, adjusting his hat. He wore his inky black hair in a long, braided rope down his back. Flexing his fist, he glared at Beck before addressing the others. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

“No, he’s not.” The one with the battered hat leaned closer, giving Beck a whiff of sour breath and cigarette smoke. “Let me make this clear. We’ve got the woman. Now, we want the kid. Either you tell us where she is, or the woman dies.”

The woman? The kid? Beck closed his eyes, fighting back a wave of nausea and shock. “Listen,” he said and then attempted to lick his cracked lips. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. What woman?”

“The same one you’ve been looking for,” the tall man spat. “The vampire bitch and her demon offspring. Your daughter.”

His blood ran cold. “You must be mistaken. I have no children.” He had to try, God help him, to make them realize what nonsense they were spouting. What they spoke of was impossible.

“I have no child,” he repeated.

“You do. We’ve seen the photographs of your kid. Yours and the vampire’s.”

He couldn’t help himself. “Come on. Surely you know that vampires can’t have children. Everyone knows that.”

The three men glared at him, disbelief plain in their faces.

“We’re taking you to her,” the shifter with the long braid said, spitting a brown wad of chewing tobacco on the ground near Beck’s feet. “Maybe once you see what we’re going to do to the mother of your daughter, you’ll realize we’re serious and tell us what we want to know.”

Stepping around him, the two men shoved him out of the truck. The three-foot fall felt like a story as he hit the ground hard and lay crumpled in a heap. A moan of pain escaped him.

Ignoring this, his escorts jumped down beside him and yanked him up again, one on each side, supporting him. As they moved forward,

Beck stumbled and fell, earning a kick from the braided shifter.

“Let’s go.” He prodded Beck’s back with something sharp that might have been a knife or a stick. This one, Beck vowed silently, rage welling up inside him, would pay later. He’d change and fight him, wolf to wolf. And when he won, he’d have no compunction about ripping out the other man’s throat.

For now, he bent his head and struggled forward. One of his legs and three of his ribs felt broken. Luckily, shape-shifters healed quickly, so in a day or two, he should be good as new.

If they let him live that long.

Their nonsensical words had been exactly that—nonsense. He had no daughter. Even if such a thing were possible, Marika wouldn’t have kept his own child from him.

Yet she had disappeared…. He cursed them and then himself for believing such nonsense even for a second.

They urged him forward with a shove. He drooped, pretending to be weaker than he was, stumbling for good effect.

“How much farther?” he croaked, conserving his strength for later.

Striding ahead now, braided man barely spared him a glance. Again, Beck had to clamp down his fury. Though he truly thought he could take them all, he wanted to wait and see if they really had captured Marika Tarus.

And find out if he actually had a daughter.

He grimaced because the whispering thought wouldn’t go away.

“There.” His captor pointed to a building, looming above them in the darkness. “We’re keeping her inside the basement, in the dark where her kind belong.”

Stumbling again, Beck allowed them to steer him toward the entrance, all the while keeping his wolf and his rage in check. With each step, his anticipation grew. Could it really be Marika, the same vampire woman he’d sought for the past three years? What were the odds that these men had captured the one he’d hunted unsuccessfully for so long?

A thousand to one, at least. Even higher, since they kept babbling about some mythical child.

His child. Right. Again he shrugged off the thought. One thing he’d learned over the years was how dangerous it could be to allow himself to feel hope.

Keeping his head down, he let them lead him inside, his anger building with every step, fueling him, giving him energy. He was careful to give no sign of his rapid recovery, conserving his strength for when he’d need it.

Marika heard voices, muffled and faint, through her cement prison. They’d returned, the men who kept her here, believing she’d reveal the most precious aspect of her existence. Little did they know, she’d allow them to burn her to ash in full sunlight before she’d endanger little Dani.

Then, the faint grinding as they struggled to remove the sarcophagus lid. Ah, her time had come. Their hour of reckoning.

She held her breath while it slid slowly, painfully open, inch by inch. Even though they only used one small electric lantern, the new light seared her eyes, so accustomed to inky blackness had she become.

Slowly, she adjusted, blink by blink, peering through her lashes at the blur of human faces surrounding her. She didn’t move, not yet. Motionless, she bided her time, building her strength for the optimal moment to make her bid for freedom.

Then, once she was free, they would pay for daring to hold her here like this. She’d kill them all, one by one, and gorge herself in a fit of savagery on their still-warm blood, as her half-savage ancestors used to.

Just the thought gave her a burst of adrenaline.

“Get up,” one of them said, a hint of nervousness in his husky voice. “We brought someone to see you.”

Instantly she froze, a frisson of fear stabbing her. Not Dani, surely they hadn’t found her daughter. No, she would have known, in that place in her chest where the heart of a mother once beat. Not Dani. Who, then, and why? Had they captured another vampire?

Curious despite herself, she swallowed back the rage and pushed herself to her elbows, still pretending weakness.

At first, blinking in the dim light, she counted only the same three. The tall shape-shifter with his long, dirty braid. The short man, fastidiously clean, who always smelled of coffee and soap, and the other, pudgy and mean-eyed, ever-present cigarette smoldering.

Then, she saw him. The newcomer, another shifter. So badly beaten his swollen face was barely recognizable. Sagging against the cement wall, he seemed hardly able to hold himself upright.

But when he raised his head and their gazes met, her entire world tilted crazily. Marika gasped, unable to help herself. Him! She knew this man, knew him intimately, and she’d taken care to avoid him.

Grief stabbed her, awful and swift. “You,” she said. Only that, but enough. “Beck.” Anton Beck, who went by his last name.

Slowly, painfully, he nodded and then gave her that lopsided smile she still remembered. “Marika, where have you been hiding? I’ve been looking for you for three years.”

She dipped her chin, acknowledging the truth of his statement. “I know. I didn’t want to be found.”

One of the others made a sound, reminding her of their presence. That they should witness this, such a powerful personal moment, brought the fury back in full force. For this, too, they’d pay.

Reading her intentions in her face, Beck shook his head. “Wait,” he mouthed, cautioning her as if he had the right.

The braided fool backhanded him. “Shut up. You talk when we tell you to talk.”

Marika snarled, an almost wolflike growl that made Beck raise his head and go absolutely still.

She remembered how things had been between them. Hell, from the look on his face, he did, too. Explosive. Amazing. Hot and fast, furious and gentle. She’d never expected to find that with him, and fear had been part of the reason she’d run.

Dani had been the other reason.

For a moment, the harsh sound of breathing was the only noise echoing in the basement. Two of the three men, the humans, shifted their weight uneasily, sensing perhaps their impending doom. Only their leader, the shifter who’d slapped Beck, seemed impervious, arrogantly confident.

Or, she reflected grimly, stupid as hell. She’d bet on the latter.

“Here’s the deal,” Ponytail said. “I’m glad you know each other. Wolf-man, we’re gonna let you drag vampire chick into the sun first thing in the morning. No.” He held up his hand as Beck made a noise of protest. “This isn’t nice, especially since we know you’ve been trying to find her for a long time. But she’s hiding someone we want more. You know this. The two of you can put your heads together and come up with a solution. Tell us where the kid is and we’ll let you go.”

Marika watched Beck. Though he hadn’t known about their daughter, his closed-off expression showed no hint of his thoughts.

“I’ll die before I let you have her,” she declared, waiting as Beck had asked, but eager to flex her returning strength and take them all down now.

“We’ll let you have that wish,” the shorter captor chortled. His laughter died instantly when Marika cut him a look promising retribution.

“Ten minutes.” Ponytail motioned the others to follow him. “This entire room is concrete, like a bunker. There are no windows and the only door is cement also, controlled remotely by me. So don’t even think of escaping. You won’t be able to.”

The three exited. As they did, the heavy door ground into place, closing with a thud. The meager lightbulb cast long shadows on the walls.

“Like the pyramids,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else. “Except they had only torches that went out once the oxygen left.”

Swinging her legs over the side of the stone sarcophagus, she stood, swaying slightly. “You have no idea how good it feels to be out of that thing.”

He came closer, studying her face with an intent look that made her shiver. “Did we—you really have a child?”

For a split second she thought of lying, but she could no longer hide. “Yes. A daughter. I named her Danielle, Dani for short.”

“How is that possible?” Frowning at her, he looked unconvinced. “Vampires can’t conceive.”

Lifting one shoulder, she winced at the twinge of pain. “So they say. But I did. I went to speak with our seer and she told me this happens rarely. When it did, the child was meant to achieve great things. So, nine months later, my baby was born.”

“Our baby,” he corrected, looking shell-shocked. As he stared at her, anger gradually replaced the surprise. “You kept this from me. My daughter. Why?”

The moment she’d been dreading. Swallowing hard, she kept her gaze on him, not allowing herself the luxury of looking away. “Please. I had my reasons. I’ll explain later, I promise.”

From the grim set of his jaw, she could tell he didn’t believe her. But finally, eyes blazing dark fury, he jerked his head in a nod.

“Is Dani a Halfling?”

Relief flooded her, which she instantly hid. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand his meaning. “She can shape-shift, if that’s what you mean. She’s alive.”

“Not a vampire.” He spat the word as if he hated all of her species because of what she’d done. She didn’t suppose she could actually blame him.

“No.” Her short laugh sounded bitter, she knew. “I couldn’t nurse her. But I bought formula and she thrived. She’s two and a half years old now.”

“Why do they want her?”

“That I don’t know. The seer warned me while I still carried her in my womb. To protect her, I hid among my own kind, until I learned Dani wasn’t safe there. Then I had no choice but to go into a human city and try to blend in. That’s how they found me.”

“Where is she?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “My daughter, where is she now?”

“Safe.” If she’d had a heart, it would have ached. So much pain in his face, grief in his voice. He’d never forgive her for what she’d done. She told herself it didn’t matter. Only Dani mattered.

“For now.”

“For always.” She glanced at the door, trying to judge the time. “When they come back, I’m going to kill them.”

“Can you? Are you strong enough?”

“Yes.”

“How long has it been since you fed?”

Again, she shrugged, forgetting her stiff shoulder. “Weeks, I think. Not long enough to hurt me. I’m fine. I’m still stronger than they.”

“You need blood. Drink mine.” He came closer, turning his head so his neck was exposed to her. “Use my blood to give yourself strength.”

Shocked, she stared at him, while her body reacted. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” she rasped, her mouth dry and her fangs suddenly aching. “When a vampire goes this long without nourishment, sometimes it’s difficult to stop.”

“But you will.” His gaze met hers, his full of a confidence she didn’t share. “My sister loved you and said you were strong.”

“Not that strong.”

Again he moved closer, bringing to her his tantalizing scent, so aromatic that she wanted to weep. “Drink. Hurry up, we don’t have much time.”

He hated her and yet was willing to do this for her? It made no sense.

As if he understood her thoughts, he gave her a grim smile. “Two is better than one. If we’re going to get out of here, I need you strong enough to fight at my side. Now drink.”

Despite her best intentions, she bent her head and moved in, ready to do as he asked.

Chapter 2

Before she could, the outer door began to grind open.

“Too late.” She stepped backward, feeling only relief. Sharing blood with Anton Beck felt too intimate somehow, especially after what had happened between them.

Plus, she didn’t really need it. Dark knows, she’d rested a long time. Even without feeding, she still had enough strength to take down ten puny humans.

Protecting the injured shifter might be a bit problematic, though he seemed to think he was in fighting condition. For both their sakes, she hoped so.

“How badly are you hurt?” She rushed the question.

“Not as bad as I look.” Flexing his fists, he grinned at her. That grin, and the flash of attraction she felt, made her remember why she’d done what she had. Sometimes, she saw his face in her daughter’s.

Pushing away her thoughts, she focused all her attention on the slowly opening door.

When the concrete slab had opened halfway, two of their three captors stepped through. Only the tall shifter with the braid was missing.

“Where’s the other?” She made her voice soft, casual.

The fat one seemed nervous, pudgy fingers fidgeting with a ring of keys. “He went to get the rope.”

Holding up a large cross, the dirty one grinned, showing stained teeth. “Don’t even think about trying anything.”

A cross. What a fool. Some of her kind had lived in the times before Christianity. Either way, a cross had no effect on her. She wanted to laugh but knew better than to reveal the truth. She’d take any advantage she could get.

Still, who were these men, and why were they living in the dark ages? Did they really think such a thing could harm her? They must not know squat about vampires. Excellent for her, bad for them.

She eyed them, letting her gaze travel down the length of them, twisting her mouth as though she found them wanting. Which she did, actually.

The smelly man began to sweat. He lifted his cross higher, trying to hide his terror. He didn’t realize that she could smell it, even over the stench of his unwashed body. The pungent scent of panic made her fangs ache and her stomach clench. Suddenly starving, she wanted to feed.

But she forced herself to remain still. Though every instinct urged her to jump them—first the one with the cross, then his partner—she wanted all three to pay. She’d wait for ponytail man to return with the rope.

“I don’t think he’s coming back,” Beck said in a casual voice. He still slumped against the wall, as though it hurt him to straighten. But she read both strength and determination in his dark eyes and knew that he, like her, only pretended weakness.

What he didn’t realize was that she didn’t need his help. She didn’t need anyone’s help.

It turned out Beck was wrong. Walking heavily, the other man returned with the rope. As he held it up, she frowned. What kind of rope was that? It looked more like snow chains for car tires, interwoven with metal links and rods for strength.

Again she had to stifle a grin. They might have been able to keep her contained with a cement sarcophagus, but these puny metal chains would hold nothing.

“Silver,” the man said, holding them aloft so they clinked. “Extra protection.”

“Wrong species,” Beck drawled. “Vampires care nothing about silver. That’s us shape-shifters. You should have made the rope out of garlic.”

Marika’s mouth twitched savagely at his mocking tone. The tall man suddenly appeared to have an inkling of his fate. His nostrils flared in terror, and he spun for the door, making a run for it. Now.

Marika moved, vampire speed. Her former captor went down before he’d even taken a full step. Though by the laws of karma he should suffer, she ended his life quickly, ripping out his throat. Then, spinning before she’d even taken a satisfyingly deep drink of his warm blood, she launched herself at the other two captors, who’d frozen in shock.

Fat man screamed like a pig. Dirty man went down blubbering. Him, she killed instantly. Turning to the fat man, she began gorging herself, letting herself drink her fill of his rich blood as the life force ebbed from him.

“Enough. Let him go,” Beck said, yanking her up from her feeding.

For a moment, she could only snarl up at him. Then, regaining her focus, she shook her head, sending droplets of blood flying. “I can’t. I’ve bitten him. If I don’t kill him now, he’ll become a vampire.”

Beck frowned. “That one’s a shifter.” Pointing toward the braided one with the ripped-out throat, he moved closer. “He’s full-blooded, so he’s not dead. He won’t turn. You know our blood’s immune to your bite.”

“I killed him.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No, you didn’t. I just told you, he’s not dead. Only silver bullets or fire can end a shape-shifter’s life. Look, he’s already beginning to heal.”

Standing, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, leaving a bloody smear. “Then we’ll set the place on fire.”

“No.” Beck pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “He’s Pack. We have laws. I don’t want to be an accessory to murder. Let me call Pack authorities.”

Punching in a speed-dial code, he gave the information in short, staccato sentences. When he hung up, she regarded him quizzically.

“You didn’t tell them where we are.”

“Didn’t need to. My phone’s a special phone, with a GPS locater built-in. They’ll use that to pinpoint this place.”

“They can track you wherever you are?”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

He shrugged. “No. Why should it? I’m not doing anything I’d be ashamed of.”

To each his own. With a nod, she bent over her victim, who’d expired quietly. Though she hadn’t drunk until she was stuffed, she felt pleasantly full. Already, her veins began to buzz with renewed energy. “This one’s definitely dead. Let me check the other.”

A quick check of the pulse revealed that man, too, had expired. “I’m done here. Let’s get out of here before your Pack people show up. I don’t want to have to answer any questions.”

Beck followed her as she headed for the door.

Once outside, she took deep breaths of the cooling air, enjoying her mild buzz. She wasn’t used to the heady richness of fresh human blood. Like many other of her kind, she usually relied on blood banks or wild animals for nourishment.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her deceased best friend’s older brother. “I’m gonna run.”

Beck grabbed her arm. “Not yet. If you’re going to wherever you have our daughter hidden, I’m going with you.”

She hissed. “I’m not going there. I don’t want to endanger her.”

“You have to make sure she’s all right.”

“That’s one thing I know for sure. She’s safe.”

“I’d prefer to check in person. It’s time I met her.”

Panic clogged her throat. “I can’t take the chance. You don’t know who might be watching me.”

“I’ll make sure we aren’t followed. We’ll go together,” he said, in a tone that left no room for arguing. Behind his eyes, she glimpsed his wolf, pacing restlessly.

She let him see her fangs. “I don’t think so. I go alone and in the opposite direction. Dani is safe, believe me.”

For a moment, he considered her, his expression so stark she wanted to cry. Steeling herself, she lifted her chin. “I don’t want to fight you. Let me go.”

“Fight me?” He sounded incredulous. “Bring it on.”

Suddenly remembering, she felt heat suffuse her. When they’d been together in the past, play fighting had always led to passion. Something about the adrenaline …

Three years had gone by. They’d changed.

“I don’t want to fight you,” she said slowly. “I just want you to leave me alone.”

“We made a child, Marika. Dani. Now we’re forever tied together by her.”

“No.” Her protest sounded weak. He ignored it, as she’d suspected he would.

“We need to talk,” he insisted, as though by the strength of his voice, he could force her to give in.

He didn’t realize she wouldn’t, couldn’t. While she wasn’t ready for a physical altercation with him, she thought if she could fuel his simmering rage with her, turn it to hatred, maybe she could make him angry enough to go away. It was worth a shot.

“Oh, yeah?” Tossing her long hair back over her shoulders, she forced a smile before pulling her arm free. “There’s nothing to talk about. We were over long ago. And you don’t even know Dani is yours. I had lots of lovers. She could be anyone’s.”

He looked unconvinced and unmoved. But what did she expect? She’d always been a crappy liar. Juliet would have seen through her instantly.

“When we were together, you weren’t with anyone else,” he said, teeth clenched. “I know Dani is my daughter. I have a right to see her.”

“I have a right to keep her alive.”

He reeled back as though she’d slapped him. “I would never hurt her. How could you even think that?”

“I trust no one.”

“I don’t care. This isn’t even between you and me, it’s between me and my daughter. She has just as much right to know her father as I do to know her. Come on, Marika. You never were a fool. Stop this.”

She spun away, throwing words back at him over her shoulder. “Just leave me alone. Trust me, it’s better that way, for all concerned.”

Easily, he kept pace with her, fury simmering in his eyes, making them appear black. “No. Where is Dani? I want to see her.”

She didn’t answer, knowing no matter what she said, her tone would brand her a liar.

“You can’t take her away from me now that I know. I won’t let you.”

The rawness of his voice stung her. She knew that emotion all too well. After all, by their joining together, they’d inadvertently caused her best friend’s death. Still, fool that she was, she’d missed him. Even if she’d wanted to forget him, she couldn’t. Every time she’d looked at the child they’d created together, she’d seen his face. And Juliet’s. She still missed her best friend, his sister. Dani’s aunt.

Beck still watched her, silently waiting.

Abruptly, she wondered how he’d dealt with his sister’s loss. Then she wondered why she cared. She couldn’t afford to care about anything, anyone else but Dani. And keeping her safe trumped what anyone else wanted, including herself. Especially herself.

Yet that knowledge didn’t make it any easier to do what she had to do—try and make him hate her enough to leave.

“Why? Why do you care? You never even wanted kids. Why do you suddenly want one now?” With fresh blood humming through her veins and giving her strength, she faced him, well aware how intimidating she could look in her full vampire glory.

But he was a shape-shifter—vampires didn’t threaten him. Never taking his gaze from her face, his eyes had gone cold and flat. “That was in the past. What I wanted then has nothing to do with any of this. Dani was conceived and born. I would have given my wolf to be there for that. No matter.”

“No matter?” She could scarcely believe his words.

“Make no mistake. I don’t like what you did and I may never forgive you for that. But Dani is all that matters now. She’s just as much mine as yours. I want to see her, get to know her. You’ve already deprived me of two entire years of her life.”

Pain made her temples ache and her throat tight. He was right, but she’d had no choice. She still had no choice. There were no words to answer him. She slowed her frantic pace. No matter that he was right, this was out of her hands. She had to protect her baby. No matter the cost to either of them.

His sensual mouth twisted. “Answer my question. Where is she?”

She hadn’t answered, nor would she, as long as she could stall him. She knew deep down in her bones that if he saw Dani, he’d take one look at her tiny, perfect face, and he’d never leave. Once, Beck had staked a claim on her. The idea that he wanted to make a claim on her little girl terrified her. Both because of what she knew and something else, a tiny, selfish part of herself that she didn’t much like.

Inhaling, she tried to get her second wind. “What gives you the right to know anything about me or mine? Despite our mistake three years ago, we’re actually strangers, with only Juliet in common.”

“Mistake?” For the space of a second he dipped his chin, the movement slight and barely noticeable, but enough to tell her how much her words hurt him.

“I—”

His lip curled. “What gives me the right? That you can ask such a question tells me my sister didn’t know you as well as she thought.”

She felt his words like a knife.

“Don’t,” she said. “You know nothing about me—”

“I’ve lost my sister. She was all I had left in the world. Yes, you were her best friend. And maybe what happened between us never should have happened. But it did, and we made a child together.”

Again she tried to speak, knowing he was right, but also aware she had to try. The words wouldn’t come.

“I have the right to know her,” he continued. “She’s my blood as much as yours, my family, my child, too.” His voice broke, but the accusation in his eyes cut her like shards of broken, lethal glass.

Head aching, she tried to think. His child. Their child. Dani.

Taking a deep breath, she wondered if she’d be able to convince him or if she was simply wasting her breath. Finally, she shook her head, sending her long hair flying. She had no choice but to continue to try. Especially taking into account the High Vampire Priestess’s warning.

Bravely, she lifted her chin. “All I’m asking for is the chance to raise my daughter in peace.”

“Raise your—She’s mine, too, Marika. Mine. It’s bad enough you didn’t think I had the right to know when she was born.”

“For her own safety.” The words exploded from her. “I couldn’t tell you. I’ve been warned. They’ve been after me from the beginning.”

He went utterly still. Finally, he was listening. “You keep alluding to her safety. If you’re telling the truth, tell me this. Who’s been after you?”

“I don’t know.” Even to herself, her admission sounded weak, contrived. Still, he was a Protector, sworn to protect his own kind. She couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know without risk. And if she did, she was certain he would think she was lying.

“Come on.” His gaze raked her face. “You’re looking for excuses.”

Lifting her chin, she let him read the despair in her face. “Beck, I can’t prove anything to you. Take my word for it. Dani’s in danger. I keep her hidden to protect her. I want her safe.”

“You know what? I honestly do believe you.” Dragging a hand across his eyes, his voice roughened. “I don’t know why, but if you think she’s truly in danger, then she is. Hellhounds. Let me help you.”

Stunned, she could only stare. She’d done nothing to earn his trust and everything to make him brand her a liar. Once she would have killed to have him say those words to her. Now, he represented both the past she tried so hard to forget, and danger.

“How you must hate me.” Eyes tearing, Marika turned away so he wouldn’t see.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Slowly, she turned, wiping at her eyes. Her breath caught as she did as he asked. Even now, she found him beautiful. With his shaggy black hair and intricate tattoos, he looked edgy and more like a vampire than she.

Leaning forward, he spoke earnestly. “Marika, I’ve never blamed you for what happened. I blamed myself. I loved my sister. For the rest of my life, I’ll have to deal with the fact that I wasn’t there when she needed me. I failed to protect her.”

“Because you were with me.”

He dipped his chin, acknowledging the truth of her words, and the lie. “We both know it was wrong, but there was no way we could have predicted what happened.”

“Juliet paid the ultimate price.” With nothing left to give him but the truth, she kept her voice steady. “Dani resulted from that night. Life from death. I would have thought you would hate her.”

“Do you?” His hard voice made her flinch. “Do you hate her?”

She frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I don’t hate my daughter. What happened to Juliet wasn’t Dani’s fault, it was mine—ours. Dani was the only thing that kept me sane.”

“There.” He pounced on her words. “Don’t you see? I’ve fought my own battles with grief, with guilt over what happened. I would have welcomed Dani, loved her, let her save me, too, if you’d given me the chance.”

She refused to allow him to make her feel any guiltier than she already felt. He didn’t know what she knew. “I told you, I couldn’t. I was telling the truth earlier. She’s in danger. I couldn’t let anyone find out about her. Not my own people and certainly not yours.” She clamped her lips together in a straight line.

“Why certainly not mine?”

“For her own safety. And, Beck, I didn’t do what I did out of malice. I honestly didn’t know how you would feel about her, and worse, I couldn’t take the chance of trying to find out. Surely you can understand that.”

“No, I can’t.” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me what happened. That night, after we found Juliet …”

“I waited for you. When you didn’t return, I drove to Addie’s bar. The police were already there. When I learned what had happened, I knew. I searched for you, but couldn’t find you anywhere. Then I looked for Addie, but she’d disappeared, too. Someone told me you’d both gone to talk to the police.” She put her hand to her mouth, wondering if the pain and grief would ever lessen.

He must have felt the same. For a moment, he bowed his head. Then, swallowing, he seemed to force himself to go on. “When I got back, you were gone. You vanished. Why? Where did you go?”

“Hunting. I went to find the ones that killed her.”

“Vampire Huntress. Your skills are rumored to be unparalleled. Did you find them?”

“No.” She felt a shiver of remembered rage. “For the first time in centuries, I failed. I wasn’t even able to find a single clue.”

“Neither did the police, whether human or shifter. Still, even if you were hunting, even if you didn’t succeed, I don’t understand why you hid yourself from me.”

The time had come to tell him the truth.

“While I was hunting, someone else was looking for me.”

“Who?”

“Brigid. She’s ancient, one of the oldest of our kind. She’s also a Vampire Priestess, the leader of the order of Vampire Huntresses. She’s the one who told me I was pregnant. She called it a miracle.” She didn’t tell him what else Brigid had said. Not yet. She’d give him truth, but in bits and pieces.

“She was right. You getting pregnant is kind of a miracle. Who knew vampires could conceive a living child?”

“I certainly didn’t. But Brigid also warned me that I couldn’t take risks with my baby’s safety. She warned me of a threat, though she didn’t know when and from where it would come. I went into hiding to ensure that no one knew. No one except Brigid and Addie.”

“Addie?”

“Yeah.” Her voice softened. “Even though she’s human and a couple of centuries younger, she’s always treated me like a daughter. I trust her.”

“I do, too.” They shared a smile. Marika looked away first.

“Anyway,” she continued. “Dani was born in an old cabin high in these mountains. I had no one to assist me, because I trusted none. Still, somehow they—whoever they are—found out. Someone came hunting. Even though she was only a few weeks old, I knew they wanted my baby.”

“They?” While he wanted more detail, he didn’t appear to doubt her. Yet.

“They wanted to harm her because of what she is, a child of a vampire and a shifter.” Lifting her chin, she steeled herself to meet his dark gaze.

“I don’t understand. So she’s a Halfling. The Pack is made up of hundreds of thousands of those.”

“Vampires don’t have children.”

“You did,” he insisted. “And if you did, others can. Maybe you just haven’t heard about them. Maybe your precious Brigid made them go into hiding, too.”

“Maybe.” Since she hadn’t told him everything, she was willing to concede that point, even if she privately found it ridiculous. “Either way, protecting her comes first.”

“True.” He cocked his shaggy head. “But I still don’t understand why they want our daughter.”

“Why doesn’t matter. They want her and that’s enough. I won’t let them have her. Dani’s everything to me.”

Expression sober, he nodded. Something about the vulnerable look in his eyes brought memory slamming into her. She remembered how she’d felt when he’d held her in his strong arms, how tenderly he’d held her. How easily she could imagine him holding his daughter, laughing down into her perfect little face, so similar to his.

Fool. Such visualizations were nothing but dangerous to her now.

Unaware of her thoughts, he continued. “You know you’re going to have to tell her who I am when I meet her. I don’t want her thinking I’m just some guy. I want her to call me Daddy.”

Daddy. Her stomach dropped. This hurt a million times worse than she’d thought it would. Beck wasn’t giving up and going away. She’d have to tell him the rest of Brigid’s warning. Otherwise, he would never understand why she couldn’t let him within ten miles of their child.

Thank goodness Dani was safely hidden.

Knowing she had to choose her words carefully, she squared her shoulders. “The seer, Brigid, was very specific in her warning.”

“The Vampire Priestess? She’s also a seer?”

“Yes. Her magic is powerful and she can see things.” Another deep breath. “She warned me against you and your kind.”

If she’d accused him of wanting to murder their daughter, she didn’t think she could have shocked him more.

“You don’t think I …” Eyes narrowed as he stared at her, a muscle worked in his jaw. “I would never hurt a child, especially my own daughter. If your priestess said Pack, she meant someone else, not me.”

“How could I know that?” She felt as if the words were torn from her. “More than anything, I want to believe you. But I can’t take a chance. I’m sorry, but that’s why I go alone. I trust no one. Not even you.”

Now he cocked his head, looking wild and stern and hurt and wickedly beautiful, all at once. “That’s not entirely true. You trusted someone. Where’d you leave our daughter? She’s too young to be left alone.”

Ah, he was right. Still, she couldn’t afford to give in. “That’s different.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“All right.” She waved a hand impatiently. “There is one person I trust. Dani is safe with her.”

“One person you trust. Someone who would never betray you, who loves you like a daughter.” He stared, the anger that had bloomed in his rugged face slowly giving way to horror.

Seeing, she couldn’t help but be afraid. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I know,” he rasped. “I know where Dani is. It’s Addie, isn’t it? You left her with Addie?”

Her silence was its own form of answer. Though she stood perfectly still, his reaction terrified her. That, and the fact he’d been able to guess the truth, made her want to steal a car and drive straight to Addie’s place.

“Dani is safe.” Her words were more to comfort herself than anything else. “She has to be safe.”

“Hellhounds,” he cursed. “I’m not a hundred percent sure of that. We’ve got to get to Alpine, fast.”

“Alpine? Addie’s at my place, out in the desert.”

“No, she’s not. She was at the bar last night.”

“Why?” She had to fight to keep herself still. The back of her neck prickled, and inside, every cell vibrated in panicked response to the urgency in his voice. Then, before he could answer, she knew. “Juliet’s death.”

“Yes. Every year Addie and I have our own private remembrance.”

Thinking furiously, she tried to deny the possibility. “Even if Addie brought Dani to the bar, she knows to keep her safely hidden. What makes you think something happened?”

“Because they were there. That’s where these goons captured me. Outside Addie’s bar, at Juliet’s grave. If they go back, there’s a good chance they’ll stumble across our daughter.”

Chapter 3

“They won’t go back.” Even to her own ears, her declaration sounded weak. “They won’t.”

“I hope not.” He swore. “They don’t have a reason to, but what if there were more of them? Reinforcements, waiting until they got the answer they wanted.”

Dani’s location.

It made an awful, horrible kind of sense. Her stomach sank.

Still, she had to protest. “Even if they did have backup, why would they go there, to Addie’s?”

“Addie’s is the only bar of its kind in the area, you know that. Shifters and vampires hang out there, alongside the oblivious humans. It’s a meeting place. Hell, we met there. Where better to wait for news from the ones who captured us?”

“You’ve got to be wrong. You’d better be wrong.” She took a deep, shaky breath, gripping one hand with the other so tightly it hurt, terror knotting inside her. “You have to be.”

Expression grim, he felt in his pocket, bringing out his phone. Opening it, he punched in a code. “I’m calling her cell. Maybe I am wrong. If she answers, we’ll know.”

If she answered. She tried to force herself to relax. No if. Of course Addie would answer.

But as the silence grew, Beck holding the phone to his ear, she began to worry she wouldn’t.

Trying not to shake as awful images built in her mind, Marika watched, waiting, willing Addie to answer. Which she would. Any second now. She had to. The alternative was unacceptable.

After a moment, Beck shook his head. Closing the phone, he shot her a bleak look. “No answer.”

Everything seemed to freeze at exactly that moment. She tried to clear her head, to force herself to move, to do something, say something, anything—but she couldn’t even force air past the blockage in her throat.

Finally, one word of protest escaped her. “But—”

He touched her, lightly. “Don’t panic. There could be a thousand reasons why she didn’t answer. We’ll try her again later.”

She nodded. A thousand reasons. Right.

Despite his assurances, panic clogged her throat. Icy fear twisting around her insides, she felt worse than dead, immobilized, horrorstruck. She couldn’t seem to make her voice work, though she wanted to talk, to convince herself even now that she had no reason to worry. She couldn’t seem to do much more than take quick shallow breaths and try to keep from screaming.

Finally, still clenching her hand so tightly her nails dug into her palm, she forced more words past the knot in her throat. “Okay. I’m sure everything’s all right. Maybe Addie left the bar and went back to my place. Or maybe she never left, and stayed at my house. It could be she decided not to make Juliet’s remembrance ceremony with you this year. She might have, you know.”

“Call your house.” He held out his phone.

“I can’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t have a phone there. Too easy to trace. If I need to contact her, I use Addie’s cell.”

Which he’d just tried, with no answer. Still trying to keep from absolutely freaking out, she looked at him.

“Beck, we can’t be all that far from the bar. Just to make sure—”

“We’ve got to go there now,” he finished for her, his deep voice calm and reassuring.

“Exactly.” Finally, she could move again. Take action. In the driveway, a nondescript black pickup was parked.

Perfect.

Beck made it to the vehicle a second after she did, proving that shifters could move fast, too.

“I’m driving,” he said.

She didn’t bother to protest. She was too shaky to function normally and would only be a danger behind the wheel.

As they climbed in, and she settled in her seat, buckling herself in, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure everything’s all right.”

She wasn’t. Hell, she couldn’t even summon a fake smile. Knowing her extremely fragile control quivered on the verge of shattering, she focused on details. “Do you have any idea where we are, how far we are from Alpine? For all I know, they could have driven us into Mexico.”

“I think we’re still in Texas. Though I was in and out of consciousness when they brought me here, it didn’t seem like we drove that long. And I’d remember if we’d stopped at the border, which would have been really risky with me tied up in the bed of the pickup.”

“What about your phone? Can’t you use your GPS to find out where we are?”

“I don’t want to take any chances of drawing any attention to ourselves.”

“Good point.” Aware he was making small talk to try and keep her calm, she pointed, noting how her hand shook. “The keys are in the ignition.”

“I’m thinking they didn’t worry about thieves out here.” His calm, even voice made her want to lash out at him. But inside, she knew he was right. A Huntress out of control was a dead Huntress. If Dani was in danger, Marika knew she needed to keep her wits about her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Good to go.”

Starting the engine, Beck put the truck in Drive and pulled out. The black silence inside her gnawed away at her confidence. All she could do was yearn for her baby girl.

As though he somehow sensed this, he indicated the eastern horizon, where the lightening of the sky had been painted with broad brushstrokes of pink, red and orange.

“Looks like the sun will be coming up soon. Guess it’s gonna be a scorcher.”

Small talk. Small talk. Gratefully, she clung to the idea, knowing she had to regain and then maintain her composure. “Last night, do you have any idea what time they grabbed you?”

“A little after midnight.” He shook his head. “We couldn’t have driven too far, though time flies when you drift in and out of consciousness.”

Leaning forward, she peered at the speedometer. Eighty. “Can’t we go any faster?”

“I’ve got it floored. This is as fast as this beat-up old truck will go.”

Not fast enough. Just thinking of Dani being captured, of their hands on her soft white skin—rough and hurting—shattered her.

“Marika.” Beck’s sharp tone brought her out of her dark reverie. “Stay with me.”

He was right. Grateful, she nodded. “I’m here. It’s just—”

“Don’t go there.” Fear and anger glittered in his eyes, but his voice sounded even and composed. “We were talking about how they grabbed us. I was at Addie’s. What about you? Where’d they get you?”

Deep breath. And another. Drawing on years of training, she managed to keep her voice steady. “In Lubbock. I had an assignment there, which is why I had Addie come stay with Dani.”

“What happened? How’d they get you?” His quiet questions contained no condemnation that she, a Huntress, had let herself be captured. But then, how could he, a Protector, condemn her when the very same thing had happened to him?

She sighed. “They set me up. I suppose I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t think they had the brains to come up with such a plan. I’d completed my assignment but hadn’t taken the time to feed. They doped up a goat, then hit it with a car, knowing I’d come across it in a few minutes. It was still alive when I found it. I was hungry, so …” She shrugged. “I put it out of its misery.”

“And whatever they’d given it got to you through its blood.”

Because there was little she could say, she settled for a quick nod, still trying to keep panic at bay.

Beck’s deep voice became her lifeline. “How long were you held in the basement of that house?”

“How long? I don’t know.” Though the landscape flew past, the hands on the dashboard clock seemed to barely move.

“Try to think,” he urged. “I need you with me, a hundred percent.”

“They kept me closed up inside a stone box.

It was extremely dark in there, with no way to keep track of time. If I were to give it my best guess, I’d say a couple of weeks.”

While Dani had been left with Addie, safe at Marika’s house. Not in the open, unprotected, at Addie’s bar. Even if it had been the anniversary of Juliet’s death, what had Addie been thinking?”

“Did Addie know?”

Blankly, she brought her gaze back to focus on his face. “Know what?”

“That you’d been captured?”

“No. Though I’m sure she must have figured it out when I didn’t come back as promised. I couldn’t let her know I was being followed—I couldn’t risk giving away my house’s location. I was careful not to contact her since I was being tracked. I didn’t want to take a chance that they were monitoring me that closely.”

“Your house is well-hidden?”

“Yes.” She choked back a cry. “No one knows where I live, even Addie. When I brought her there, I was careful. I blindfolded her, made sure no one followed us.”

“But she left to meet me at the bar.”

“You don’t know that for certain.” Lashing at him with her voice, she reached for his phone. “Maybe she decided to skip it this year.”

With a slow shake of his head, he let her know what he thought of that.

“Either way, no one should have any idea that she’s with Dani. If she had to go to the bar to meet you, she would have known enough to keep Dani hidden and safe.”

“Which no doubt she is. We’re probably worrying over nothing.”

More than anything, she hoped that was true. But even though she no longer knew Beck very well, she could hear the ring of falseness in his voice.

After all, if everything was okay, why didn’t Addie pick up her phone?

As if he sensed her thoughts, he reached over and gave her shoulder an awkward, quick pat. “It’ll probably be all right. Even though we can’t be too far, I want to keep calling her from the car. Maybe she’ll eventually answer.”

Maybe. But her jangling nerves insisted Addie wouldn’t. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

“I need to talk to her, too,” Beck continued. “She’s bound to wonder what happened to me last night. I’ve never stood her up, not once in the three years since Juliet died. If she did come to meet me, I don’t want her to worry.”

When Marika didn’t reply, he gave her a curious glance. “You and Juliet were close. What did you do to remember her death?”

The change of subject didn’t fool her. Still, because she knew she’d be of no use to her daughter if she didn’t get herself under control, she gratefully took the bait. “I tried not to think about it. When I remember Jules, I want to remember her alive. Vibrant. She was a shifter. She shouldn’t have died. You know as well as I do that most people don’t load their guns with silver bullets. I think she was murdered intentionally.” She was opening a can of worms, but there it was—out there on the seat between him.

Rather than protesting, he only gave a quick nod. “Could be. Jules never did anything to deserve death. Like you, I searched for her killers.”

“And you didn’t find them, either. At least you have your organization’s vast resources.”

“I was a Protector.” His dark tone told her what he thought about that. “I’m not anymore.”

“You resigned?”

“Yeah. I take it you’re still a Huntress.”

“Of course. That’s why I had to leave Dani—I had a mission.” A mission she’d regret to this day. “You know, maybe it’s time to think about leaving the organization. At least until Dani is grown.”

He grunted, concentrating on keeping the truck on the rutted road while flooring the accelerator.

“Dani has to be okay,” she said fervently. “She has to.”

“Think about something else.” He shot her a grim look. “Have you ever visited Juliet’s memorial?”

Somehow she knew this question was important to him. “Yes, of course I have. I bring flowers with every new season. Jules loved flowers.” She took a deep breath. “You meet Addie every year for a remembrance? Why?”

“Because she was the last person to see my sister alive.” He gave her a lopsided smile tinged with pain. “And because, just like you, Addie is like a mother to me.”

“A lot of people feel that way about her.” Again her thoughts returned to her little girl. Grabbing his phone off the console, she hit redial, listened to twenty-two rings without an answer before hitting the Off button and dropping the cell back in its place.

Beck didn’t comment. “Addie introduced us, remember?”

More diversionary tactics. Normally, she’d shy away from these types of memories. But now, welcoming the distraction, she let herself be swept along, back to the past. “Of course I remember. We met there, at her bar, on Fat Tuesday. I’d gone with a bunch of other Huntresses, and you were alone at the bar.”

“I was waiting for you. Addie had told me about you.” Though he spoke in a calm, unaffected voice, Beck gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles showed white, proving his control was as ragged as hers.

“You didn’t mind that I was a vampire, either.”

“Just like you didn’t care that I was Pack.”

“At first I did.” But then she’d seen him. One look and she’d been hooked. Bouncing along on a potholed road, she wondered if they’d still be together if things had been different. “Once I met you, that didn’t seem to matter.”

Beck glanced at her, expression serious. “We were kind of radicals, with our mixed relationship. My Pack friends gave me hell, though once they saw you, they were probably only jealous. What did your friends think of you taking up with a shifter?”

Though the speedometer inched past eighty, the landscape hadn’t changed. They were in the middle of nowhere, still miles from town and Addie’s.

“Marika?” His tone was sharp. “I need you to focus. What did your friends think of our relationship?”

Bringing her attention back to him, she understood what he was trying to do, though she couldn’t help but wonder at his choice of topic. For her, this was all still painful. She guessed that, for him, the three years that had passed had eased the hurt.

“They weren’t too happy.” She shrugged. “But what can you do? You like who you like.”

Like was putting it mildly. She’d never put into words what he’d made her feel. When she’d first seen Beck, everything else had faded into insignificance. The sight of his face, so ruggedly beautiful, had made her feel complete for the first time in her very long life.

“What about since then?” His casual voice didn’t fool her for a second. “Has there been anyone else?”

“Not of any importance. Dani has been my only priority.” Taking a deep breath, vibrating with panic, she dared to ask him the same questions. “What about you? You’ve never been in love?”

His hard look dismissed her question. “That’s not in the cards for me.”

A few more miles. A bit closer. She glanced at the phone. “Try again.”

He did, finally closing it without commenting.

She swallowed. Hard. Grasped at straws, desperate for distraction. “Me, either. I haven’t really tried. Don’t want to.”

After Beck, when their disastrous relationship had ended with his sister’s death, she’d known she’d never let herself care about anyone so strongly again.

How long ago that all seemed now. Meeting Beck that night, when his eyes had locked with hers, she’d known she’d been waiting for him all her life. She’d wanted to ask him where he’d been, what had taken him so damn long to find her. He’d brought color to her world. Everything had been gray until he’d shown up.

Now, Dani was her color, her reason for existing.

She swallowed again, awash in emotion, hovering on the razor edge of terror. Dani, Dani, Dani. Her daughter had to be all right.

“Try Addie again.”

Though barely a minute had passed since his last attempt, without questioning, he did.

A moment later he closed the phone and shook his head. “Still no answer.”

A moan escaped her. “Bloody hell. If anything—”

“No. She’s fine. I’m sure we’re worrying for nothing.” He sounded confident, certain.

How she wished she could agree. But every instinct told her he was wrong. She bit back a second moan.

“Marika, look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, she dragged her gaze from her intense study of the landscape to his face.

His reassuring grin took her breath away, suddenly and unexpectedly making his craggy face beautiful. “Don’t worry. Not yet. One thing I have learned in my time as a Protector is to wait until I have all the facts. Doing otherwise just brings trouble. We don’t want that.”

“No,” she said slowly. “But I can’t ignore my instincts.”

“You’d better. You know how hard it is to fight when you can’t focus.”

Damn. He was right. She knew this. “It works when you’re not emotionally involved, but this is my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” he corrected. “And you worrying about her isn’t going to help her if she’s in trouble.”

Taking a deep breath, she made herself continue to study him. Distraction, distraction. “You know,” she said slowly, considering, “I’d forgotten how beautiful you are. Does that ever get in the way of what you have to do as a Protector?”

“Former Protector. And, Marika, you can’t go around saying things like that.” His voice sounded thick. The faint reddish tinge under his skin told her he didn’t take well to compliments.

No matter. As soon as she reached Addie’s, barring a disaster, she planned to take Dani and run. If things went well, she’d never see him again. Though he was Dani’s father, she couldn’t take a chance on letting him endanger her.

Assuming she wasn’t already in danger.

She gave herself a mental shake. Everything had to be all right. They’d get to Addie’s, wake her up, find Dani and while Beck was distracted, she’d take Dani and disappear.

Dani had to be safe. She had to be. The alternative simply wasn’t acceptable.

Again she focused on her plan. Take Dani and run. If there was a way she could keep Beck away from her … The less complicated she could keep their lives, the quicker escape she and Dani could make if it became necessary to make one. Beck would only get in the way.

Dani’s father. A niggling of guilt still bothered her. Casting him a sideways glance, she knew he wouldn’t give up easily. Separating from him would be best accomplished quickly, before he had a chance to stop them.

Not only would Dani be safer without him, but the truth of the matter was that being around him brought too much pain. She’d never forgotten him or understood how she’d let herself come to care for him so much, so quickly. Being with him reminded her too much of what she’d lost. Even now, the carefully constructed shield she’d put around her emotions was cracking.

Cracks were dangerous.

“This intersection looks vaguely familiar.” Beck slowed to read the sign facing the other direction. “U.S. 90,” he read. “Marathon, ten miles.”

Close. They were getting closer. She leaned forward. “So we’re heading the right way.”

“Yeah. We’re in between Alpine and Marathon.”

Heart pounding, Marika sat up straight in the seat. “Then step on the gas. The quicker we get there, the better.”

The landscape—flat scrub brush, tumble-weeds and dry, brown grass tinged silver in the moonlight—flew past them as the truck sped down the road. For the most part, Beck managed to avoid ruts; when he didn’t, they bounced so hard she felt as if her teeth were going to go through the roof of her mouth.

Her stomach churned. “Try Addie again,” she blurted.

“Here.” He handed her the cell. “You try. Just hit redial.”

She did, letting it ring twenty-seven times before closing the phone. Her feeling of foreboding increased. “Still no answer.”

“We’ll be there soon enough.”

Not for the first time, Marika wished there was some truth to the legend about vampires being able to turn into bats and fly. If she could, she would have done so.

Finally, ahead she saw the glow of Addie’s neon sign, the peculiar and familiar shade of bright pink lighting up the still-dark sky. As they neared, she saw only one familiar car in the parking lot.

“Addie’s Prius.” Relief flooding her, Marika couldn’t keep the satisfaction from her voice. “She’s still here.”

“But why?” Beck pointed toward the bar. “It looks like the place is locked up tight.”

“Everything looks normal.” Marika softened the sharpness of her reply. “She must be inside, working. Or sleeping. She keeps a cot there. I’m guessing that’s where Dani sleeps while Addie tends to the bar.”

Beck killed the headlights before turning into the parking lot. Then, the engine. Coasting to a stop next to Addie’s car, he put the truck in Park.

Out in a flash, Marika forced herself to wait impatiently for Beck. He grabbed her arm just as she was about to dash forward, making her stumble.

“Wait.”

“Why?” She shook him off, clenching her jaw. “I want to see my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” he corrected. Head up, his nostrils flared. “Something’s off. The scent … the air doesn’t taste right.”

A frisson of fear stabbed her, which she instantly pushed away. Being friends with Juliet had taught her that a shifter’s sense of smell was four hundred times stronger than a human’s—or a vampire’s for that matter.

If he said that the scent was off, then she believed him. But she hoped to hell he was wrong.

In case he wasn’t, she did as he asked and let him lead the way.

Moving cautiously, he kept close to the side of the squat brick building. His powerful, lean body moved with easy grace, yet even so close to her, there was an air of isolation about him.

“Do you see anything?” she whispered, fighting the urge to simply dash around him and inside. But if there was a chance, however small, that she might endanger Dani with rash actions, she couldn’t take it.

Beck shot her a grim look. “Not yet. But the smell is getting worse.”

She sniffed but detected nothing. “Do you have a weapon?”

“No. Those idiots took my gun. And I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

At this, she felt the first prickle of real alarm. Inside, she began a running litany, over and over—something she might have once called a prayer. Let Dani be all right, let Dani be all right. Please.

As Beck’s broad shoulders disappeared around the corner and she prepared to follow, she couldn’t shake the sudden, horrible sense that he was right. Something had gone terribly wrong. She could only hope Dani hadn’t been hurt. She had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from rushing inside to find out.

Patience. Prudence. Caution. Words every highly trained Huntress—and Protector—knew well. And yet when someone she loved was in danger, each and every one of them became meaningless, empty.

When they reached the back side of the building and she saw the back door swinging open in the slight breeze, she froze in terror and let out a quiet moan.

Dani. Dani. Dani.

Caution be damned. She brushed past Beck.

Intent on the door, Beck raised his arm to block her. Then, with a leap that seemed more wolf than man, he crashed inside, Marika close on his heels.

Chapter 4

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Beck smelled the coppery, bitter scent of blood. From the sharp hiss behind him, he knew Marika detected it, too.

Blood and sweat and the tangy smell of fear.

Not good. Not good at all.

He fumbled for the light switch, flicked it on. The room looked as if a tornado had torn through it—overturned furniture, books and papers scattered everywhere, and blood. A storm of blood, drops splattering the floor and walls. Whoever had been injured here had fought violently and left a crimson trail. Most likely, this had been Addie.

She’d lost a lot of blood. He wondered if she still lived. The fact that they hadn’t left her body here meant she most likely had.

“Where is she?” Marika’s voice rose. “Dani? Addie?”

Biting his tongue because he didn’t want to tell her they were already too late, he shook his head, knowing she’d figure things out soon enough. The blood, the wrecking of the office, all were proof.

Addie was gone. They’d taken her—and Dani, the daughter he’d never met. The idea that he had a two-year-old daughter blew his mind. The thought that Marika could have kept her existence a secret hurt more than he could have believed possible. To think he’d once thought Marika could be his mate … what a fool he’d been.

For survival’s sake, he pushed the thought away for later, concentrating on the here and now. Saving Dani.

“I’ll kill the bastards.” Before his eyes, Marika seemed to morph into another persona, that of a Vampire Huntress, standing taller and more menacing. Larger, somehow. “When I find them, if they have harmed one hair on Dani’s head, I’ll tear them apart limb by limb.”

Picking up the desk phone, which had miraculously escaped the bloodbath, Beck held the receiver to his ear. The dial tone buzzed, satisfyingly loud. “The phone still works, but I’m going to use my cell, just in case someone’s watching this line.” Retrieving his cell phone from his pocket, he punched in a series of numbers from memory.

“Who are you calling? Surely you know better than to call the local police.” Marika sounded both shaken and pissed off.

“I do,” he told her, listening as the call went through a complicated series of relays. “And we need to clean this place up and put a closed sign on the door. No sense in humans poking their noses around in our business.”

Punching in one final code, Beck closed his phone, steeling himself as he turned to face her. The haunted look on her beautiful face made his chest hurt. “I called one of my friends, a Protector named Simon. If anyone can help us, he can. I’m sure he’ll call me back shortly.”

With Brigid’s warning ringing in her ears, she touched his arm. “Fine, but whatever you do, don’t tell him about Dani. If he knows about her, he’ll want to kill her, too.”

Staring at her, he slowly shook his head. “Why do you keep saying that? I don’t understand your logic. Our daughter is a miracle.”

One single, red tear ran down her cheek, which she promptly wiped away. “Thank you for that. I agree, yes, Dani is a miracle to me. But to everyone else, she’s a freak of nature, something that shouldn’t ever have been born.”

When he started to contradict her, she held up her hand. “Believe me, I speak truth.” She took a deep breath, regarding him steadily. “The less they know about her, the better. She’s only safe if she can blend in with humans.”

Beck wasn’t sure he bought into that, especially since he still sensed she was hiding something. She might have received a few isolated death threats from a couple of whackos. Maybe vamps were a bit more unforgiving than shifters.

“That’s where I think you’re wrong.” He kept his voice firm. “Maybe you have to worry about vampires, but not shifters.”

“I worry especially about shifters,” she said darkly.

“Look, Dani is not human. She’s Pack. A Halfling. And Pack protects our own. We don’t want to kill them.”

“Oh, yeah? I heard about what happened with the Protectors and what you shifters called Ferals. You guys were gunning them down left and right.”

He winced, feeling a stab of remorse. But only for a second, because while he was as guilty as the rest, in his heart he knew he’d already paid his own penance.

“That’s over now. It was an isolated incident, during a fixed span of time. It’s in the past. We rebelled against the corrupt leaders who gave the orders. It will never happen again.”

With her head cocked and her arms crossed, she didn’t appear to believe him. “Regardless, promise me you won’t tell them about Dani.”

“Marika—”

“No. This is not negotiable. Give me your word you won’t say anything.”

With a sigh, he gave in. “Fine. You leave me no choice.”

Her gaze searched his face. Finally, she dipped her chin. “I’ll take that as your word.”

“You have it.” He gestured with his phone. “Isn’t there someone you want to call for help?”

“No.”

“No Huntresses? Maybe we can ask their help. I’ve heard amazing things about your organization.”

“Oh, yeah? That we’re good at search-and-destroy missions?”

“Surely you did more than that?”

“Not really. Let me ask you this. What was your motto when you were a Protector?”

“Protect and Defend. Kind of ironic, after what happened, but the original purpose was noble. Is noble, now.”

“As a Vampire Huntress, our motto was—is—Hunt and Destroy. See the problem? If the Huntresses find out about Dani, they won’t rest until they kill her.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Sorry.”

Beck couldn’t believe his ears. “You know,” he said slowly, “I thought I was cynical. But you’ve got me beat.”

“I’m not cynical. I’m a realist.”

“How can you not realize our daughter is the ultimate proof that our two species can coexist in harmony? How can anyone not realize that?”

Her lip curled. “Take off your rose-colored glasses.”

This cynicism saddened him, though he didn’t know why. He’d felt the same himself, until now. But knowing he had a daughter, knowing about his child, Dani, had given him fresh hope. “Juliet would have told you the same if she’d lived.”

She bared her teeth, a curiously Pack gesture that she must have learned from Juliet. “Don’t you dare throw her in my face. I knew her as well as you.”

“Really?” He raised a brow. “We were close.”

“I know. But we were friends a long time. Jules would have wanted to protect Dani at all costs. I’m sorry, but …” Touching her throat as though it had closed, she swallowed hard. “I’ve been dealing with this a long time.”

For a moment, he studied her, eyeing her perfectly formed features, her creamy, smooth skin. Though she looked like an ice princess now, he couldn’t help but remember her in his arms. In the throes of passion, she’d looked blazingly, thrillingly alive. He had a fierce ache to see her that way again.

“What?” Glaring back at him, she brought one hand up to her face, a curiously self-conscious and human gesture. “Do I have something on my face, or what?”

“Just thinking.” Though he wanted to touch her, he kept his hands clenched at his side.

“We’ve got to track them. To do that better, I need to change.”

“Why?” She gave him a bleak look. “You know as well as I do that they didn’t go on foot.”

“Can Dani shape-shift yet?”

She froze. He could have sworn a look of guilt crossed her face as her frown deepened. “Yes. But she wouldn’t have—”

“You never know. In the middle of the chaos, she may have changed while Addie fought them, and taken off. In her wolf shape, she could outrun any human.”

For the first time since they’d arrived, hope lit her perfect features. “I didn’t think of that. She could be free. By all means, change.”

Might as well tell her all of it. He took a deep breath. “Plus, when I’m wolf, I’ll be able to identify the blood, whether it’s Addie’s or …”

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