He buried his face in my neck. His tongue painted heat on my skin. He knew where to kiss, the sensitive spot right below my ear. It sent delicious shivers all the way down my spine.

“More . . .”

He kissed me there again. His teeth nipped the skin, the slight ping of pain a shocking burst of pleasure. I gasped. He pulled me to him, possessive, completely sure I would let him. His hand slid up my back, under the T-shirt. I stretched from the sheer pleasure of it. He unhooked my bra, rocked me back, and then he was on top of me, looking at me from three inches away. “Mine.”

“Always.”

He tugged my T-shirt up. I tried to wriggle out of it and he caught it halfway up my arms, pulling the fabric tight. I couldn’t move my arms. His mouth closed on mine. He kissed me, hungry, so hungry. Heat surged through me. I wanted him so much. I needed him to love me. He kept kissing me, his stubble scraping my neck, his hand caressing my breasts, my side, lifting me toward him. His tongue teased my nipple, pulling a moan out of me. The world shrank to him. I wanted him between my legs.

He let me go and I wrapped my arms over him and pushed him to the side. He rolled on his back and I landed on top of him. I pulled my T-shirt off, threw my bra aside, and pulled his shirt off of him. My Curran . . . How did I ever end up with him? The way he looked at me made me want to strip naked and dance just so he would pounce.

“Your move,” he said, his voice rough.

I kissed his lips, moved down and kissed that chest, stroking him, sliding my hand lower, over the ridges of his abs, down to the hard length of him in his jeans. He drew a sharp breath. I unzipped him and slid my hand up and down his shaft. He groaned, straining, trying to stay where he was.

Any more and it would be torture for us both.

I hopped off of him and pulled off my jeans. When I was done, he grabbed me, already naked and ready to go. His hand caught my hair. His body caged mine. I wrapped my legs around him. I had no patience left. He pushed my legs off him and slid down. His mouth closed on me, his tongue in the perfect spot. Each lick, each touch coaxed pleasure out of my body. He kept going, faster and faster, insistent, the wet heat growing hotter until the climax burst through me. I cried out and forgot about everything as waves of bliss shook me. He was on top of me, thrusting, long and hard, all of him focused on me, all of him mine alone. We were making love and when the second burst of pleasure came, we shared it.

He was right about the danger. I had no idea.

• • •

MY EYES SNAPPED open. A noise came from the street, the very particular noise of claws scraping brick outside my window. Next to me Curran lay still, his eyes open. My head was on his chest, his right arm around me.

A clawed hand grabbed the windowsill and a furry, thin creature landed on it and hunched over, its face a nightmarish blend of human and rodent.

Last time a vampire, this time a wererat. There was no peace to be had in my apartment.

The wererat inclined his head. “Former Beassssht Lord. Former Consssshort.”

I knew that voice. I’d met him before; he was Robert’s favorite surveillance agent.

“Hello, Jardin,” Curran said, his voice calm.

“The former Conssshort’s father is away from hisssh bassshe. When he returnssh, he will find only asshess.”

“Jim burned my father’s base?”

Jardin nodded. “You can shee the glow in the easssht.”

Oh, Jim. I knew why he did it. Dali was hurt. She was his world. He wanted to retaliate, the Pack expected him to retaliate, because that’s what a strong shapeshifter leader would do, and so he retaliated. Curran might have done the same.

“I’m to tell you that war issh coming. Thesshe are dangeroush timesh. Friendsh mussht look out for each other if all are to shhhurvive.”

“We heard your message,” Curran said.

Jardin nodded and leapt off the windowsill into the night.

“Robert is scared,” I said.

Curran nodded, his hand stroking my shoulder. “There were probably heavy losses.”

“Jim isn’t going to come to us, is he?”

“No.”

“We still have to protect the Pack. It’s on the land we claimed.”

“Can you block his magic?” Curran asked.

“Erra says I can. I won’t know for sure until I try.”

“Do you trust your aunt?”

I turned over and looked at him. “There are certain moral principles that rule my aunt. They are what her childhood was built on. Honor and love your parents. Guard the land you claim. Have children, teach them, and guide them so the family may live on. My father trampled all of them like a runaway bulldozer. She will make him pay for it. I don’t think she’ll betray us, but if she does, we’ll deal with it.”

“But is she making you stronger?”

“She is. But magic alone won’t be enough, Curran.”

“We’ll need an army,” he said.

• • •

“YOU NEED AN army.” My aunt paced back and forth in my kitchen.

It was morning and I was on my first cup of coffee. My head throbbed.

“How can you not have a throne room?” Erra peered at me. “Where do you receive supplicants?”

“Here, or at the office.” I walked over to the counter to pour myself another cup of coffee. Curran had left on a morning run through the woods. He said he needed to burn off some energy after last night. All I wanted to do after last night was sleep for twenty-four hours straight. Where the hell he got his energy I didn’t know, but I sure would’ve loved to have some of it.