"What are we going to do about these people stalking Desari?" Tempest asked as she snuggled into the curve of Darius's arm.

He looked down at her, his mouth brushing her forehead tenderly. "We? What is this 'we'? As I understand it, the society's first objective is to acquire you. You are going to do exactly what you promised and obey me to the letter."

"Actually," Tempest said calmly, ignoring his ruthless tone, "I thought Cullen Tucker said that the society considered Julian a vampire for certain. I would say he was their first target."

"Security is a matter for the men, Tempest, not for you. From now on, you will do as I say and stay out of trouble."

Tempest was drowsy, content to lie in his arms and smile up at the black fury gathering in his eyes. Idly she touched his mouth, a feather-light caress tracing the perfection of his lips. "I do love your mouth," she admitted before she could censor the words.

Darius found he was instantly distracted from his anger. One touch from her and he couldn't remember his own name, let alone his lecture. He kissed her hard, possessively, taking his time to explore her sweetness, to show her exactly where she belonged. When he lifted his head, her emerald eyes were bemused, beautiful, and so sexy that he found himself groaning aloud.

"Rest while I fix you something to eat," he ordered.

Her long lashes swept down, her velvet soft lips just asking to kissed again. Darius had to look away from her or he wouldn't have the strength to leave her.

She caught at his hand. "I'm really not hungry, Darius. Don't bother fixing anything. It will only be a waste of time. In fact, I feel slightly sick."

Guilt swept him. It was his fault she was having trouble eating. He touched her face, his heart melting. "You will eat what I fix, honey. I will ensure it stays down." But he was talking to himself; she was already asleep.

Darius spent a few minutes staring down at her, absorbing the rhythm of her breathing into his body. His life. It came down to that. This delicate, fragile creature was his entire life, his entire world. He needed to take better care of her, pay greater attention to her health and safety. Tempest seemed to go from one crisis to the next. He would have to put his foot down, get her under some semblance of control. She would start by taking naps in the evening hours to build up her strength.

Absently Darius fashioned a pair of jeans and pulled them on, carelessly buttoning them as he padded on bare feet to the door of the bus. The leopards were off in the forest, and he prompted the animals to return to the safety of their camp. As he opened the door, the night breezes washed over him, carrying scents and sounds from miles around.

At once his black eyes became flat and merciless. A low hiss escaped as he exhaled sharply. The enemy had found them. Not one or two but, if his acute sense of smell had not failed him, a virtual army surrounded them. The men were moving slowly through the forest, ringing the campsite. He smelled their fear, their adrenaline, their sweat. He smelled their excitement. He read their intentions, their eagerness for the kill.

A low growl rumbled in his throat in response to the threat. He was anchored to the trailer and Tempest, unable to act as he would had he been alone. A snarl lifted his lip, revealing lengthened canines. The truth was simple. He welcomed the fight. He had had enough of the threats to his family, and his way had always been one of action. He sent out the eerie call of the leopard, warned the others of the danger, and turned to wake Tempest.

She surprised him, listening to his explanation and donning the clothes he provided almost without question. "Do you have any weapons in here?" she finally asked.

His eyebrows shot up. "As in guns?" he prompted.

She laughed. "I'm from the streets, Darius. Don't let the fact that I was attacked a couple of times fool you. I was blindsided. If you don't see it coming, it's a little hard to defend yourself."

"Our guns are in the case just inside the closet. But use them only if it is absolutely necessary to protect yourself. Let me handle these idiots," he cautioned warily. Tempest with a gun in her hand was a scary proposition.

"Where are the others?"

"They have gone ahead to our next stop, taking Cullen Tucker with them. He had nothing to do with this that I can detect," Darius said calmly.

He sent himself seeking out into the night while she hastily prepared the bus for a quick getaway. He found one man approaching from the north, a long rifle in his capable hands. A sniper in camouflage. Darius directed the male leopard to hunt. The female cat was sent after the man closest to the sniper, a few feet to his left. They were in thick brush, easy targets for the cats, and Darius knew their deaths would be swift and silent. He was torn between staying in his present form and protecting Tempest and going out into the forest, where he could do more good.

"Go," she said softly, feeding shells into the guns she had laid out. "I know you won't be far if I need you."

Darius leaned down to kiss her soft mouth. There were shadows in her eyes, and she was trembling slightly, but she looked him in the eye, and he could feel the resolve in her mind. "Do not allow anything to happen to you, Tempest. For the sake of all mortals, see to your safety first." He glanced at the arsenal she was preparing. "And do not shoot me when I return."

"I'll resist the temptation." Her hand stroked his neck. "See to it you come back to me." The ache in her heart was real and strong.

Fear.

She tasted it in her mouth.

He disappeared. One moment he was real and solid, standing in front of her, the next he was gone. Tempest had no idea if he had dissolved into vapor or moved so quickly that she hadn't seen him. Outside in the darkness, the wind began to build, emitting a low, eerie moan. It spoke of death. Tempest shivered, wondering how she knew but knowing it anyway. The wind was death. Darius was the wind.

She saw herself in the mirror. Pale, her hair wild, her eyes wide with fear. She looked absurd, a small woman in blue jeans and T-shirt loading a big gun, but there was grim determination to the set of her mouth. Her feet were bare, and she remedied that quickly, certain she would have to leave the illusion of safety the trailer provided. She sat on the step, a gun in her lap, two others behind her within easy reach, and she waited.

Darius streaked through the sky, noting the position of each attacker. There were seventeen men, all armed. The campsite was surrounded, heavy trucks positioned across each trail leading to the main highway to prevent the bus from leaving. Forest was dragging the body of the eighteenth man through heavy brush. The male leopard was moving silently, his powerful body sleek and deadly, undetected by the hunters creeping forward within a few feet of him.

Darius dropped behind a large man armed with everything from hand grenades to a machete. He simply snapped the man's neck as if it were a matchstick. There was no time for a sound to escape, only the rush of wind that carried Darius to the next assailant in line. This one was crouched low, peeking into the trees, trying to catch a glimpse of the silver bus. The wind caught him in a death grip, like a huge hand at his throat, and slowly strangled the life out of him while his body dangled helplessly a foot from the ground, then fell unceremoniously to the forest floor.

"Murphy?" A voice hissed off to Darius's right. "I can't see anything. Where's Craig? He was supposed to stay close."

Darius loomed up, larger than life, his features harsh and relentless, his black eyes burning coals of fury. Long white canines revealed themselves as he smiled. "Both of them lost." His words were soft and mesmerizing. The man froze in horror, unable to do so much as lift his gun as the apparition moved toward him with blinding speed. The hunter felt the impact in the vicinity of his chest and stared down in horror at the gaping hole there. He wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. He died standing up, facing Darius, his face a twisted mask of shock.

As merciless as the wind itself, Darius moved on to the next attacker. This one was young, with pitted cheeks, scrubby mustache, and paint smeared on his face. He was breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through his body. His finger continually stroked the trigger of his automatic weapon. Darius moved past him, a blur of muscle and sinew, razor-sharp talons ripping out his throat as he passed.

Some distance away a gun erupted, spouting red flame into the darkness. A man's high-pitched scream mingled with the unearthly cry of the female leopard. Darius turned toward the sound. Several guns spewed bullets wildly, raking the area where the sounds had come from, until an authoritative voice several yards off to his left barked an order.

Tempest came to her feet, her first thought for Darius. Automatically she reached for him, wincing when she felt the red haze of killing fury in his mind. Breaking contact, she sought out the cause of the cry. Instantly she knew the female leopard was in jeopardy. Swearing beneath her breath, she tried to calm herself enough to decide what to do. Sasha was hurt; she could feel the pain and anger in the cat as she dragged herself through the foliage back toward the bus and her human companions.

Tempest hesitated only one second before she stuck a pistol into the waistband of her jeans, gripped the automatic, and ran toward the trees. She sent Sasha quick reassurance that she was on the way, she would help get the cat to safety and stop the pain.

There was another shout, much closer than she would have liked, followed by a volley of shots. Again Tempest reached out to touch Darius's mind, terrified that he was hurt. He was in the middle of shape-shifting, his body accommodating the muscular form of a panther even as he was leaping for a low tree branch. He crouched above a sniper who was slithering on his belly through the vegetation. The Sniper's gun was trained on Forest as the leopard made its approach toward another intruder, who was firing at Sasha as the female cat retreated.

Tempest gasped aloud as she shared Darius's mind. He was utterly without mercy, emotionless, calm and cool, relentless in his pursuit of those who threatened his family. He leapt upon the sniper, silent, merciless, deadly. As his wicked canines sank deep into the gunman's throat, she broke away, unwilling to witness Darius killing his adversary.

Tempest ducked low beneath the canopy of low, sweeping branches, trying hard to be quiet and not rustle any bushes. Petite, she was able to move easily on the narrow trails established by small animals, but she nearly stumbled over the silent, wounded panther. Sasha was crouched motionless in the large ferns growing beneath the trees. Tempest laid a calming hand on the cat's back and sent it waves of reassurance as she knelt to inspect the injury.

The leopard's back right leg was coated with blood. Tempest muttered unladylike swear words beneath her breath. The cat was too large for her to lift by herself. She wrapped an arm around its belly and lifted just enough to allow Sasha to crawl forward. The ground was uneven, and the panther was in tremendous pain, leaning more and more of her weight onto Tempest as she limped toward the bus.

Sasha suddenly turned her head to the left, curling her lips in a snarl of warning, then freezing into stillness. Tempest dropped flat, eyes searching the area to her left. A man loomed up, his head turned away from her, a gun cradled in his arms, another strapped to his shoulder. He was dressed in dark clothing, his face smeared with black stripes. He looked like a gorilla coming out of the gathering mist.

While the night had been clear, fog was now rolling in fast, gathering into a white, eerie vapor on the forest floor. Tempest lay against the injured panther, shaking with fear, weak from lack of food, and already exhausted. Even the gun felt heavy in her hands. It seemed an impossible task to get the leopard back to the comparative safety of the bus.

The man disappeared into the trees, the fog surrounding him. Tempest got to her feet, her knees rubbery, her mouth dry. Sasha crept forward with Tempest's help. They inched their way over the ground - a slow, painstaking process that seemed never-ending. The heavy fog was their only protection once they emerged from the forested area to the campsite itself. Tempest sent up a silent prayer that the thick vapor would prevent their presence from being detected.

Darius felt the disturbance ahead. He had made his way through the line of intruders, the male leopard coming from the opposite side to meet him at the campsite. Twice Darius had used the heavy fog to wrap a sniper in its deadly grip, choking the life out of the intruder. He had left behind no living enemy and knew Forest had done the same. The numbers against them had been significantly reduced, Sasha accounting for two before she was shot.

Darius was very much aware of where Tempest was at every moment and what she was doing. He had made no attempt to stop her from reaching the cat because he would have had to force her compliance. All the same, he was terrified for her, and the fear was nearly paralyzing him. He sensed the man rushing out of the fog at her, his gun pointed at her head. Sasha tried to throw herself over Tempest, protecting her at Darius's command, even as he took control of the weapon, using his mind and the eyes of the female leopard to force the barrel back around toward the killer.

The man screamed horribly as the gun he was holding, seemingly of its own volition, turned slowly, inexorably, toward his own heart. Even as he tried to tell his brain to stop, he felt his own finger tighten on the trigger. Darius had been moving with preternatural speed and arrived on scene just as the man fell. He leapt toward Tempest, slamming her into the earth. A bullet caught him high in the back of his shoulder, burning and tearing through his body, stealing his breath.

Darius wanted to lie there a moment and rest, but the man who had succeeded in shooting him was moving in for the kill. Putting aside pain, he focused his will on the enemy. Already, however, he was directing the male leopard, stirring up the wind, and creating the dense fog, and he was weary now, his great strength draining, along with his life's blood, onto the ground.

Still, he rose up like an apparition, his body contorting, his face lengthening into a long muzzle, fangs exploding into his mouth as the wolf surged forward and tore into the oncoming wall of a man's chest. The enemy was so frozen with terror at the sight of something half man and half wolf, he could only gape in horror.

Tempest had hit the ground so hard, it knocked the wind out of her. For a moment she could only lie there, trying to collect her scattered wits. She wasn't even certain who had tackled her. It was Sasha who prodded her into action, with her mewling, painful cries, the harsh images of torn flesh. Tempest rolled over to see Darius drop a body onto the ground. She cried out a warning, and he instantly turned and met a huge attacker rushing him with a machete.

He caught the man's raised arm with his casual strength and stared at him a moment, his eyes holding the other captive. Slowly he bent his head and drank, needing to replace his own loss, needing the nourishment and power of adrenaline-laced blood. The rush hit him hard in his weakened state, and he drank voraciously.

Darius!

Tempest whispered to him urgently. Something in her knew she had to stop him. She didn't understand why; she knew he had killed, but not this way, never this way.

Darius, I need you now.

The soft, beautiful voice penetrated his mind, subduing the raging, beast, appeasing the wild hunger for death and blood. He forced his teeth away from his prey and dropped the man into the dirt while he still lived. Without looking into the woods, he sent his message to the male leopard. The man must be destroyed, leaving no witnesses to what had happened here. It was necessary to the survival of his race.

"I will carry Sasha," Darius said gruffly, the beast still strong in him, red flames flickering ferociously in his eyes.

Tempest gasped when she saw the blood, inky black in the darkness, running down Darius's back. "Go. I'll cover you."

"They are coming in from the left," he said, pushing her ahead of him, bending to lift the huge cat.

She stepped behind him and laid down a covering spray of automatic fire, the bullets zinging viciously, giving him time to get Sasha into the bus. Tempest was backing toward him when he caught her in his arms, taking the weapon out of her hands.

Darius was well aware that she wasn't shooting at anyone, only keeping them away. Tempest did not have one killer instinct in her body. Courage, loyalty, yes - she would never leave him or the cats, and she would do her best to protect them, but she would have a difficult time actually killing another human being.

Ruthlessly he took the decision out of her hands. "See to Sasha. Use the herbs in the closet. She will allow it." He literally tossed her into the bus, turning away before she had time to protest.

At once it began to rain. Not lightly, but sheets and sheets pouring from the sky, drenching the forest and campsite, as if the heavens had opened up and dumped an entire ocean on them. Tempest concentrated on her task. Sasha was flicking her tail back and forth in agitation, a low, menacing rumble coming from her throat.

Darius protected the bus, shielding it from the hidden hunters who had now become his prey. His form, real and solid, shimmered in the driving rain briefly, then simply evaporated. In the silver sheen of the downpour, blood-red drops occasionally splashed to the ground.

The wind rose to a frantic pitch, screaming through the trees, as sharp as any knife. The male leopard was a whirling blur of savage fangs and claws, an instrument of revenge. For a brief moment the forest was alive with moans and cries and the horror and stench of death. When at last it was over, only the sound of the wind and rain remained.

Darius knelt for a moment in the rain, weary, wounded, revulsion for the necessity of this deed welling up in him. He bowed his head while the water began to flow in small streams around him. The bodies looked as though they had been attacked by wild animals, yet if they were studied, there would be a roar of interest heard halfway around the world. He could not allow that.

He spent considerable time arranging the area in a way humans would accept without too many questions. A battle had broken out between fanatical factions of weekend warriors, and they had killed each other, their bodies then disturbed by a multitude of scavenging animals. He took great care to remove any traces of his family's presence from the area. They couldn't afford to leave even tire marks in the campsite. The accumulating water would take care of that for him. He could hide the bus, blurring it from prying eyes until they were on a main highway.

Exhausted, he finally called in Forest, and man and cat made their way back to the bus together. Sasha was lying quietly, and the big male leopard went to her side and touched her several times, examining the wound, stitches, and wrapping. Tempest turned to look at Darius, her heart in her eyes. He felt he had come home, the weariness dropping away, the stench of death replaced by her welcoming light.

"You're bleeding," she said softly.

"I will live," he answered. Ordinarily his kind shut down heart and lungs to preserve their blood, but Tempest and he were not safe yet. They still had to run the gauntlet of trucks blocking every road to the highway, and Darius knew others would be in those trucks waiting for them.

"Tell me what you need," she said, aware that his body healed differently than hers. "The herbs and soil I need are in the cupboard above the couch."

He sounded tired, and that frightened her. She looked away, careful to avoid allowing tears into her eyes. The sight of Darius, soaking wet, weary, streaked in blood and mud, his black hair plastered to his head, nearly broke her heart.

She worked on him quickly. It was easier than she had envisioned, as the bullet had exited his body and he had started sealing off the wounds from the inside out. But it required tremendous energy on his part to heal his insides without benefit of the earth and rejuvenating sleep. Tempest packed his wound with the mixture of his healing saliva, soil, and herbs. It was strange to follow his directions to mix dirt with his saliva, but she accepted his explanation that Carpathians were of the earth and took advantage of its healing properties. Her hand caressed his neck, her fingertips conveying her growing love when she still could not voice it to him.

Darius caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. "I am sorry, Tempest. I never would have willingly exposed you to this side of our life. We are often hunted by mortals. Down through the centuries many of us have been massacred. I wish I could have spared you this."

"I don't wilt in the sun, Darius, or melt in the rain. I'm tough, you know. Now let me drive us out of here. You go to sleep. Real sleep. I know you can't go into the ground, but you can sleep the way you're supposed to and trust me to take care of you." Her green eyes captured his black gaze and held it every bit as easily as he could do. "You do trust me, don't you, Darius?"

He found himself smiling. In the midst of blood and death, pain and weariness, she made him smile. "With my very life, baby," he responded, his voice velvet soft, brushing at her insides like the touch of his fingers. He cupped her chin in his palm. "I promise you, I will rest when I know we are safe."

Resignation crept into her eyes. There was no point in arguing with Darius when he had made up his mind. "Tell me what to do."

"You will have to drive the bus. The storm is coming to its peak. We must take advantage of it. The water will pour into the streams because the ground cannot hold it, so there will be flooding. We want to time getting across the bridge before the wall of water hits it. We cannot use the roads, as they are blocked," he explained.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, but that was her only sign of apprehension. She squared her shoulders and turned resolutely to walk to the driver's seat.

Darius caught her around her small waist and fastened his mouth to hers. He tasted her fear, her sweetness, her compassion. He tasted her love for him, growing inevitably with every moment they shared. He took his time, his kiss fiercely possessive, savoring the closeness with her. Reluctantly he lifted his head. "We should get going, honey." His eyes darkened even more as he studied her slightly bemused expression. She was so beautiful to him. Color had swept into her face, and her lips were slightly parted, an invitation he couldn't find it in himself to resist. He kissed her again, this time hard but brief.

Tempest seated herself behind the wheel of the bus. The rain was beating at the windshield, visibility at an all-time low. She glanced back at Darius, unsure of herself for a moment, but he was peering out the window, directing the violence of the storm. She read the certainty in him that she could do what he had asked of her. He believed in her absolutely.

"There's a faint trail, Darius," she called back to him. "It's disappearing under water, but I think I can stay on it." The bus moved sluggishly in the muddy track, rotted tree branches floating along in the water, bumping against the sides.

"Do not use the lights," Darius warned softly.

"I need them. I can't see that well in the dark," she objected. "If the water's too high, we'll get stuck."

"You can see. I see through your eyes. It is the human mind in you that refuses to rely on your own senses," he corrected absently, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

Tempest exhaled slowly. The moment she felt calm and in control, she moved the large vehicle carefully through the swirling water. Her mind played tricks on her; she thought she saw eddies of deep red blood in the dark stream. But the rain was beating down so hard, she could barely see. The windshield wipers had no hope of keeping up with the deluge pouring from the sky.

Tempest felt Darius standing behind her, the warmth of his body seeping into the cold of hers. He reached around her to frame her face with his palms, his fingertips brushing away her tears. "You weep for the death of those killers." He made it a statement, neither good nor bad. He could feel the intensity of her sorrow beating at him.

"I'm sorry, Darius." Her voice was low, strangled, as if she was choking on her anguish. "They had families, mothers, wives. Brothers and sisters. Children."

"They would have killed you, honey. I could read the intent in their minds. Some of them thought they would enjoy you before giving you your death. They would kill my sister and destroy her chosen lifemate. I could not allow such an atrocity," he said quietly.

"I know," she agreed softly, "and I'm not blaming you for what had to be. I realize the position they put you in, but I still feel sadness for their families and the waste of their lives. Perhaps some of them felt they were doing the right thing. It doesn't make it right, but they were living beings."

Darius swept the thick mane of hair from the nape of her neck and bent to kiss her exposed skin. "You do not have to explain what I already know, my love. I dwell in you as you may do in me at any time you choose." His hands rested briefly on her shoulders, the intensity of his love for her shaking him. It rose up, a flood of emotion that threatened to swamp him when there was still so much for him to do. He had to turn away from her before the need to crush her to him, to feel her skin against his, overcame him. He took a deep breath to steady himself and deliberately put distance between their bodies.

Tempest drove through the murky water as it continued to rise. Twice she crossed a paved road and found another dirt track. Once she came very close to a huge truck parked across the road, one of its occupants smoking a cigarette. She rubbled at her lower lip worriedly but got past the truck without incident. She glanced back at Darius, noting his coloring. He was gray and drawn, lines etched deeply in his face. The strain of masking with illusion an object as large as the bus was enormous. In his weakened state, he was actually trembling.

Tempest hastily averted her eyes, her heart pounding as if it might explode in her chest at any moment. The idea of anything happening to Darius was terrifying. She drove as fast as she dared over the unfamiliar terrain, feeling her way carefully, focusing her mind on the dangers the volume of water presented. At times she chose a path so narrow that the tree branches scraped the sides of the trailer with a screeching metallic sound she thought might haunt her for all time.

As the bridge loomed up in front of them, Tempest wiped at her face, hoping to wipe away the veil that was making it so difficult to see. Between the rain and the fog, she felt as if she were driving blind. She felt the bridge sway beneath the bus, and instinctively she let up on the gas pedal, nearly panicking.

At once Darius was there, his bare foot covering hers, pressing the accelerator so that the bus fishtailed before the tires found traction. "Keep going, baby," he said softly.

He didn't give her a choice, his foot firmly over hers. Tempest held on grimly to the steering wheel, her heart in her throat. Water was pouring over the structure, pushing at the bus hard enough that she had to fight to keep them on the bridge. The water wanted to lift the trailer and carry it into the swollen stream. She allowed herself to breathe only when the vehicle cleared the bridge. Then she pushed at Darius's leg, making him let up on the gas. She was shaking so violently, her teeth were chattering.

"You are doing great, honey," Darius whispered, his hand stroking a caress down her bright hair. "We are almost out of this."

"Almost?" She turned her head to stare up at him. "There's more? I'm getting so tired, Darius." She felt silly telling him that when he was wounded and in more need of rest than she. "I think I've had enough adventure for one night."

He ruffled her hair, affection in his touch. For a man part beast and all predator, he found he had a side he had never expected. Tempest made him go soft inside. "Hang in there, honey. We face one more barrier, and then we will reach the open road."

She heard a muffled roar and realized a wall of water was building upstream, pushing everything in its path in front of it. Immediately she started the vehicle moving forward, inching their way through the the heavy vapor and rain. Without warning a truck loomed up only scant feet from them, directly in her path. A man was leaning against the hood, night goggles pressed to his eyes.

Lightning flashed, strike after strike, lighting the night as if it were day. The man dropped the goggles into the muck, his hands over his eyes as she swerved off the road, barely missing a huge tree. Clenching her teeth, she fought the heavy bus for control, bringing it back onto the road beyond the parked truck.

Darius slumped into the seat beside her, his face so gray and drawn that she nearly slammed on the brakes. "Go lie down, Darius," she ordered, frightened by his lack of color. "I'll get us to the resort where Desari is supposed to be. Konocti Harbor Inn and Spa. It's somewhere near Clearlake. I can find it." The route was well marked, an easy thing to follow, she hoped. She was bad at directions, but surely she could follow road signs.

Darius staggered to the back of the bus without argument and lay down on the couch, the injured leopard on the floor close by. "You know you will get us lost without guidance, little love."

Her heart turned over at the note of tenderness in his voice. She wanted him to sleep the rejuvenating sleep of his people, to heal himself in the earth so that he would be at full strength again. The pain from his wound was on him, hunger from blood loss beating at him, yet when she touched his mind, she found only thoughts for her, for her safety.

"You just think you're indispensable," she scolded him, deliberately sarcastic. "I'm perfectly capable of finding my way to the resort and the campsite where they plan to settle tonight. Now go to sleep, and I'll wake you if I need a wounded warrior."

"Do not ever attempt to leave me again, Tempest," he murmured so softly that she barely caught the words. There was an unguarded ache in his voice that brought a fresh flood of tears to her eyes.

In her life, no one had ever wanted her. No one had ever needed her. Certainly no one had ever been so loving and caring toward her. For all his overbearing, dominating ways, she couldn't ever say he didn't put her first. She couldn't say her heart wasn't totally captivated. He had woven a spell around her so strong, she didn't think the tie could ever be broken.

As she drove down the highway, the rain began to lessen to a drizzle. She made every attempt to keep her mind from what had happened. The idea of all those men throwing their lives away, attacking people they really knew nothing about, was devastating to her. She had no idea just how many adversaries there had been, but she knew the cats had managed to kill two humans apiece. She had caught the images in their minds. Darius had killed the others, but she had no idea how many, and she didn't want to know. It was better not to know, not to allow herself to think too much about insanity of what was happening in her life.

Carpathians. Vampires. Vampire-hunters. It was all too bizarre.

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