Fang sat on the edge of his bed with his feet on the floor, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. He was so tired of everything. Tired of trying to hold himself together. Tired of hurting. Of longing for things he couldn't have.

He just wanted one minute of peace.

Why was that one thing so hard to find? Surely it should be simple and yet it was the most elusive target he'd ever known.

Before he could move, Vane appeared there before him in the room. He pulled Fang up from the bed and grabbed him in a hug so fierce he felt his ribs crack.

Fang fought the hold. "Get off me, you fucking perv!"

Vane let go, then punched him hard in his arm.

Grimacing, Fang shoved at him and would have returned the blow with one of his own had Vane not dodged it. "What was that for?"

Vane snarled at him. "For not telling me what happened to you, you asshole." That last word was loaded with enough venom to bring down a raging bull elephant.

Completely confused, he scowled. "What are you talking about?"

Vane grabbed him by the shirt and held him with two angry fists. "Aimee told me where you were all the months I thought you were in a coma. What pisses me off most is that you should have been the one who told me. Not her."

Pissed at his tone and hold, Fang shoved him back again. "Yeah, well you should have been the one helping me get my soul back. Not her."

"I thought I was dreaming."

Fang snorted. "Vane, come help me," he said coldly, using the words he'd tried repeatedly to get his brother's attention. "Not exactly subtle."

A tic worked in Vane's jaw. He gestured toward the rumpled bed. "And when I came in here to see you, you looked comatose. Everyone told me that's what was wrong with you. How was I supposed to know otherwise?"

How indeed. Fang glared at him and his obtuse stupidity. "You should have known better. When have I ever laid down and licked my wounds? Really?"

Vane looked away, his features sheepish as he realized the truth. Fang wasn't a coward. He was a fighter through and through. "You're right. I should have known better. I should have thought better of you. But I know how much Anya meant to you. I just assumed-"

That Fang was weak and incompetent. It was what Vane had always thought of him and Fang was tired of being in his shadow. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. What's done is done. Thanks to Aimee and her brothers, I'm back."

Bully that, given the way Fury and Vane had shafted him. But for better or worse, he was here in the human realm.

Come to think of it, he'd basically traded one hell for another. Tell me again why I fought so hard to get back here. . . .

Then again, at least here no one was trying to disembowel him.

Yet.

"Let's just forget what happened."

Vane heard those words, but he knew his brother. He'd hurt Fang and it would take a lot of time for both of them to come to terms with what had happened. In all honesty, he hated himself for not being there when he should have been.

But as Fang said, he couldn't undo what had been done. All he could do was make sure that he never let it happen again.

"We're brothers, Fang. You mean everything to me. I hope you know that."

Fang grimaced. "When did you turn into a woman? Gah, if that's what being mated does, I'll do without."

Vane shook his head. "Bride didn't teach me that. Losing Anya did. There are a lot of things I wish I'd said to her before she died. I don't want to make that mistake with you."

Fang made a face. "Yeah, well, please make the mistake. You're creeping me out with the lovey bullshit." He jerked his chin toward the door. "Your woman's downstairs. You shouldn't keep her waiting."

He didn't budge. "We want you to live with us."

Fang still wasn't ready for that. Too much had changed and living with Vane and his human mate . . . he'd really rather not.

"I think I'll stay here for a while. It'll be good for the two of you to have time together without your obnoxious brother intruding."

Vane scoffed. "Is that the real reason?"

"What else?"

Vane looked at the door, then lowered his voice to a low whisper. "Aimee."

Fang snorted, even though his brother was a lot closer to the truth than he ever wanted to admit. "We're friends."

"If you say so. But you have to know that if you're messing with her-"

"I'm not an idiot," he said between clenched teeth. "Wolves and bears don't mix."

"Keep that close. It may be the only thing that saves your life."

Fang rolled his eyes.

Vane clapped him on the back. "If you need me-"

"I'll call."

He shook his head. "I won't let you down again, Fang. I swear it."

"I know." But Fang still wasn't sure if he could trust Vane. His brother hadn't meant to let him down before. Yet it had happened.

Vane held his hand out to him.

Fang took it and let Vane pull him into a tight man hug. He patted him on the back before he left.

Alone, Fang returned to bed only to have someone else knock on the door. He knew instantly who it was. Only one person had that soft, hesitant knock and smelled of vanilla-scented lavender. "Come in, Aimee."

She pushed the door open to frown at him while she held a tray of food. "How did you know it was me?"

"I smelled you."

She tsked. "And to think I waste all that time bathing every day and all my money on soap. Why do I bother when I obviously smell to high heaven?"

He smiled in spite of himself as she set the tray aside. "I like the straight lavender more than that vanilla stuff you have on right now."

She cocked her head in mock offense and rested one hand on her hip. "Oh, I'm being dissed by the wolf who didn't bathe for . . . how many months was it?"

"Not my fault. You could have bathed me."

"Ha! Then you would have been skinned and would have never needed a bath again."

He despised how charmed he was by this exchange. More to the point, how charmed he was by her presence. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you and Vane were good."

"Yeah."

She looked at him suspiciously as she neared the bed. "You don't sound sold on it."

"It's not that. I love my brother. I'm just . . ." Bitter. That was the only word to do any kind of justice to his surly mood. He only hoped it was temporary. "It's nothing that I won't get over."

She handed him a beer. "If you say so."

He took it from her and eyed the tray of food she'd parked on his dresser. "I thought I told you I wasn't hungry."

"I figured you were lying."

He laughed. "Thanks for the faith."

Wrinkling her nose at him, she uncovered a plate to show him ham, turkey, dressing, and potatoes. "Do you need anything else?"

You. . . .

Gods, he was such a fool. Her rump was the only roast he wanted to take a bite out of. Even now he could imagine stripping her bare and making love to her until they were both blind from it.

He cleared his throat, wishing he could clear his mind just as easily. "No, and I'm really sorry for the way I treated you earlier."

"You should be, but I understand. I have the same feelings, which really piss me off."

He took a deep draft of his beer. "There's something wrong with us, isn't there?"

"Yes. We're broken."

Setting the beer aside, he pulled her toward him until she was standing between his spread knees. Her scent wrapped around him like a warm cloak as he imagined sliding her T-shirt over her head and freeing her breasts. "I've never wanted a woman as badly as I do you."

She rested her hands on his shoulders as she looked down at him, her gaze scalding hot. "I've never wanted a man until you."

He leaned his head against her stomach while she brushed her hand through his hair, then down to his shoulders. "What are we going to do?"

Her touch sent chills over him. "We have to stay away from each other. I'm my mother's heir. I have to find a bearswain to mate with."

Anger shot through him at those words. He couldn't stand the thought of another man touching her. But he let the heat of her body soothe him until he was calm again. "We can be adults about this."

"Absolutely. We're just friends."

"Friends." Had there ever been a more disgusting word invented?

Aimee looked down at him as he pulled away to gaze up at her. His hair was shaggy and his whiskers were already starting to darken his cheeks again-it gave him a feral sex appeal that was hard to resist. And those beautiful eyes of his . . . she could lose herself to him so easily.

Don't . . .

"I'm going to my room now."

Fang nodded and released her. His heart heavy, he watched her leave even though what he really wanted to do was call her back and run off to a place where no one would care that he was a wolf and she a bear.

"What have I done?"

Made a complete and utter wreck of your life.

It was true. Everything was screwed up and he had no idea how to make it right again.

Sighing, he went to the tray Aimee had brought and sat down to eat.



Aimee tried her best to sleep. But for some reason, she couldn't. It was around three in the morning when she went to the bathroom and saw the light shining from underneath Fang's door.

Against her better judgment, she padded down the hallway to knock lightly on his door.

He didn't answer.

"Fang?" she whispered.

Again he didn't answer.

Closing her eyes, she looked inside the room and found him there. He was pacing the room like a caged animal. Wild. Cold. Deadly.

Something was wrong.

Without considering the danger, Aimee went inside to check on him.

He whirled on her so fast, she couldn't even protect herself. He pinned her to the wall, his hand on her throat as if he would kill her right where she stood.

But the moment he touched her, his gaze cleared and he focused on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw your light and I was worried about you."

Fang pulled back, his features tormented as he raked one hand through his dark hair. "I can't breathe, Aimee. I can't relax. I'm terrified of going to sleep. What if I don't wake up again?"

The fact that he confided that to her told her exactly how upset he was. "You're all right. You're back and you're safe."

"Am I? I couldn't wake up earlier."

She pulled him into her arms and held him close. "It's over, Fang."

Fang wanted to believe that, but how could he? "No, it's not. I can still feel them clawing at me. I can hear the flapping of the Reapers' wings and see the Harvesters looking for victims. They're coming for me. I know it."

She pulled his face into her hands and made him look at her. "I will stay with you and make sure no one takes you back."

He scoffed.

"Listen to me," she said firmly. "You don't seriously think that I went through months of hell, stalking Daimons and descending into Kalosis to let them have you again, do you?"

Well, when she put it that way. "No."

"Then trust me. I'm not going to let them come for you. If there's one thing a bear can do, it's fight."

Fang nodded. He returned to bed. Aimee pulled the blanket up over him and sat down on the edge.

He took her hand into his and held it close to where Thorn had branded him. But she couldn't see the mark through his T-shirt. He wanted to tell her about the bargain he'd made.

If only he could. The truth was, he was ashamed that he'd been unable to protect her without it.

Most of all he was scared the demon inside him would manifest and hurt her.

"If I do anything strange, you leave me immediately. You understand?"

Aimee furrowed her brow in suspicion. "Strange how?"

"I don't know. Try to eat you?"

She arched her brows at that. "Ooo-kay. You do that sort of thing a lot?"

"Not really, but who knows after all this. I might even sprout horns and turn into Simi when you're not looking."

"Well, I promise if you come at me with bad juju, I will tear out your guts. And if you transform into a teenaged female Goth demon, I'm going to laugh my butt off."

"Good."

She laughed. "You're the only one I know who could find that threat a relief."

Fang tried to smile, but his exhaustion was overtaking him. There was something about Aimee that made him feel safe. Before he knew it, he was finally asleep.

Aimee sat there for an hour, watching Fang sleep. It was so strange to see him like that. He reminded her of her nephew who didn't like the dark.

Only Micah was four.

What horrors had Fang been through down there that he was still so haunted by them?

"I wish I could help." But only time could heal what had been broken inside him. All she could do was be there when he needed strength and friendship.

What are you thinking?

She needed to keep her distance from him. Yet it was so hard when all she wanted was to strip her clothes off, slide into bed beside him, and pull his body deep inside hers.

There was something so infectious about him.

What if he's my mate?

Surely the Fates wouldn't be that cruel.

Oh, what was she thinking? Of course they would. They'd conspired to have men eat their own children. Mothers kill their babies. There was no one more treacherous than the Moirai.

Her heart heavy, she ran one finger over his grizzled cheek. She loved how he felt. How he looked.

Most of all, she loved his sarcastic, bitter humor.

Letting out a tired breath, she leaned back against the wall. "What's going to become of us?"



Eli looked up as Cosette entered his study. The light-skinned Creole woman was as beautiful as her ancestor, Marie Laveau, one of the most notorious voodoo priestesses in the world. A mere slip of a woman, she wore a white flowing skirt and pale blue peasant top that fell off one shoulder. Her blond hair was pulled back from her face by a red scarf so that the tight curls fell out of control to her shoulders.

But it was her green almond-shaped eyes that were haunting. She reminded him of an untamed cat and swished across the floor with a seductive gait that would draw the notice of any straight man who saw her. That gait also caused unseen bells to chime with every move she made.

Damn, she was gorgeous.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, shutting the planner he'd been making notes in.

"We have a problem, cher."

"And that is?"

"My demon is dead."

Eli didn't move for three heartbeats as those words sank in. "What do you mean?"

"My spirits have told me that a loup-garou slew him as he went for the whore I'd sent him to kill. It is hard for me to frame your enemies while my servants are slaughtered before they can carry out their assignment. I just thought you should know."

Eli folded his hands with a calmness he certainly didn't feel. The demon was supposed to have killed a student and then leave evidence to implicate Kyle Peltier for the murder. The alley of the attack had been carefully chosen since it was a block away from a club the young bear was renovating.

"I'm not happy, Cosette."

"Do I look to be celebrating?" She pinned him with a glower that would make a lesser man fear for his soul.

"Can you not summon another demon?"

She made a sound of deep aggravation. "Summoning one of his strength is not an easy thing to do. I was in bed for three days afterward."

"The details don't really concern me."

"Well, they should."

"And why is that?"

One corner of her mouth lifted into a mocking smile. "The universe is one of careful balance. What you send out always finds a way to return. This loup-garou is a hunter, a chaser for another. My spirits have told me to leave him be."

He scoffed at her superstitious bullshit. "You should be careful, ma petite. There are things far scarier in this universe than your hunter."

"I know this to be true. But . . . there is something evil brewing here in this city. A convergence of spirits. It concerns me."

"You should be more concerned with failing me. I don't like disappointments." He drummed his hand idly over the black leather as he contemplated her news. "Tell me . . . did your spirits happen to give you the name of this loup-garou?"

"They called him Fang."

His hand froze midstroke. Fang . . .

That bastard who was supposed to die. The one who'd laid his filthy paws on his son.

Eli pulled his hand back as raw, unmitigated rage poured through him. "You have no idea how unhappy this makes me."

"There you would be wrong. I do know. But listen to me. My spirits are never wrong. An evil power will emerge here and it will threaten us all. We should beware."

Eli intended to do more than be wary of the trouble. He was going to rely on it and use it. And that is what gave him a brilliant plan.

Why hadn't he thought of this sooner?

Sanctuary laws didn't apply to all species. There was one in particular that they neither protected nor monitored. A species who wasn't bound to follow Omegrion rule.

Forget Varyk and what he was working on. This was so much better. It would be something that the Peltiers would never see coming.

Something that would destroy them forever.

"Cosette, my wily child, I have a new idea for you and your spirits."

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