He wished the violence of his life hadn’t brushed up against hers, but that was his reality. As a drakon, someone was always trying to kill or control him. “I won’t be long.” The faster they were away from here, the better.

  …

  Raine made it as far as the bed—or rather the mattress on the floor—sat down hard, flopped backward, and stared at the ceiling. Lucius was an assassin, one of the Forgotten Brotherhood. She still wasn’t quite sure what that meant or who they were, but they must be badass if he associated with them.

  An assassin. It pinged around in her brain as she struggled to make sense of it. She—normal, boring, head in the clouds, Raine Carson—had made love to a mythical drakon who just happened to be an assassin.

  She pinched her arm and flinched in pain, but it grounded her. It was all real. He was outside right now burying bodies. Or maybe incinerating them. His drakon fire was powerful. She swallowed hard. “I won’t vomit. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.” After several times, the urge to, well, purge passed.

  There were dead men around her home, men that had come to kill them. “I won’t feel sorry for them, I won’t.” Only she did. Whoever had sent them on this task had known the probable outcome.

  She bolted upright. They’d known the outcome. Had they wanted Lucius to kill them? Why? And how was the Angel Foundation involved in all this? Mack’s crazy talk about angels, and his showing up at her home with a group of armed men, tied the two together. It was the only thing that made sense in this entire mess.

  Penelope padded onto the mattress, sat, and stared. “I have to remember to ask him why someone would want him to kill.” She didn’t want to think about what Lucius was doing. An icy cold shudder ran through her body. That’s what came from watching too many horror movies. Her imagination was powerful enough without being enhanced by Hollywood. The bodies would be incinerated immediately, not burned. The fire he’d let loose in the cave had turned solid rock molten and evaporated smaller chunks in midair.

  The cat continued to stare, supremely unconcerned. “You’re going to go to Mavis’s house for awhile.” No way was she leaving Penelope here. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She hoped. Living through this wasn’t a given.

  Don’t think about it. If she did, the fear would paralyze her. She wasn’t about to be a deadweight. Poor choice of words. She needed to act, to not depend solely on Lucius to protect her. He was here now, but that might change. Then where would she be if she let him take total control?

  Rolling off the mattress, she went to the closet and pulled out a small duffel bag and began to pack, weighing what she might need against the need to travel light. All her treasures, collected over her lifetime, would remain. “If I’m dead, I won’t care about them. If I live, I’ll be back.”

  Determined to get through this, she grabbed the bag and marched to the living room. Her gun was lying on the sofa. “Never know when I might need that.” After scooping it up, she stuffed it into her purse for easy access.

  Where was Lucius? How long would cleanup take? As if she’d summoned him with her thoughts, he walked through the front door.

  “It’s done.” His face was grim and a slight scent of smoke clung to his skin, along with dried blood. There was a good chance not all of it was his.

  “What about the vehicles?” What would they do with them? That would be a problem.

  “They’re gone.” He dumped several ID cards on the kitchen table.

  “What do you mean gone? Did you drive them away? Stash them somewhere?”

  “Drakon fire.” He spread out the cards and studied them. “They all seem to live in the same area, if I’m remembering correctly the map I studied.”

  “You studied a map of North Carolina?” It seemed a safer question than addressing the whole “I can incinerate a truck” thing. It really wasn’t that much of a stretch, all things considered, but it was mind-blowing. The power he possessed was immeasurable.

  “When I was online last night.”

  Why wasn’t he looking at her? Was he angry he’d had to kill six men because of her? If she’d let him fly away, it wouldn’t have come to that. And I’d be dead.

  “Give me five minutes.” He snagged a change of clothes and headed down the hallway.

  Left alone, she studied the identification he’d brought with him. There were only four driver’s licenses. Did any of the men have families who would look for them, miss them? She pressed a hand against her stomach and took a deep breath, knowing there was nothing she could do about it.

  A quick check of her laptop allowed her to plot the best route. It was only two hours away. They’d be backtracking toward the park. She rolled her neck, working out the knots that had taken up permanent residence there.

  “Coffee.” If they were doing a road trip, there needed to be drinks and snacks. Shutting her laptop, she stored it in her bag, along with the rest of their clothes, before getting to work. The coffee was just finished brewing when he joined her.

  Had she swallowed her tongue? Maybe not, but it seemed thicker or at least tangled. The jeans fit him like a second skin, the soft fabric clinging to his thick thighs. And he was commando under them. Her eyes almost bugged out of her head as she studied the impressive bulge in the front.

  The black T-shirt might as well have been painted on. It was short-sleeved, leaving the bulk of his arm tattoos on display. “Holy shit.” When the corners of his mouth twitched, she groaned. “Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” The chuckle was a low rumble which had all her lady parts standing up and cheering. Naked, he was unforgettable. The man had muscles on his muscles. And the tattoos only gave him an edge that made her want to jump him. The jeans and T-shirt made him look even more badass, if such a thing was possible. The swirls on the left side of his neck were barely visible above the neckline. She wanted to lick them.

  “You really like these clothes, don’t you?” His voice had dropped an octave and flowed through her like warm chocolate sauce through ice cream.

  “They’re okay.” She busied herself fixing coffee in two to-go cups.

  He tapped the side of his nose. “I can smell your arousal, remember.”

  She cleared her throat and decided to ignore his last comment. “I’m getting road snacks ready. I’ve mapped out the best route for us to take.” Best to keep busy, otherwise she’d jump him and they’d never get out of here. “Do the sneakers fit?”

  “Let’s find out.” He sat in the chair and tugged them on one at a time. They were simple white, nothing fancy. None of it was, but on him they looked like they cost a million bucks. “They’ll work.” He motioned to the bag with his head. “Is that everything?”

  “I thought it best to keep things light.”

  “Smart.”

  She was trying to be, but her recent choices had imploded her life in a series of ups and downs that had left her smack-dab in the middle of this messed-up situation.

  “Where’s the correspondence from the people who gave you the grant? We should take that.”

  “The Angel Foundation? It’s all email, so it’s on my computer. They have to be a part of this.” It made the most sense.

  “At least one of the people working there is involved.”

  “They gave me fifty thousand dollars. That’s a hell of a lot of cash to hand over, considering they don’t have a chance of getting it back. Even if I’m declared missing, it would take years to settle my estate. There’s a mortgage on the house, so it’s not worth a whole lot. And speaking of money, we need to stop at an ATM so I can withdraw some. We don’t want to leave a trail of credit and debit card purchases for someone to track.”

  He nodded and hefted her bag. “I’ll put this in the car.”

  “I’ll get Penelope’s carrier and belongings together.” In short order, she was locking the front door to her home. It was hers—and the bank’s. This was her space, the one she’d carved out for herself after years of hard work. She might never see it again.

  The stark reality was sobering, but she had a better chance with Lucius than going it on her own. He waited by the open passenger side of her car.

  Turning her back, she walked away. Something occurred to her as she joined him. After tossing her purse into the backseat alongside the cat carrier, she leaned on the roof. “Why haven’t you contacted this brotherhood you’re part of for help? They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

  His jaw tightened and his eyes began to glow. “I can’t be sure they’re not part of this.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucius hated waiting in the car while Raine took Penelope up the walkway to her friend’s home. A middle-aged woman opened the door, and after a lengthy conversation, she took the cat carrier and bags with food and toys and everything else Raine had deemed necessary. Head down, she hurried back to the car and slipped into the driver’s seat.

  She backed the car out of the driveway and pulled away without hesitation. “She likes Mavis’s cats. She has two, Byron and Shelley. Mavis teaches literature at the college.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed. That cat was her family, and she was being forced to leave her behind. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. There’s no reason anyone would harm her or your friend.”

  “Oh my God! I didn’t even think about that. Should we go back and get Penelope?” The car began to slow.

  “No, she’s safer where she is.”

  “You’re right.” Her fingers gripped the wheel so hard her knuckles were white. “And if something happens, Mavis will keep her. She’ll have a home.”

  Home was important to Raine. He’d figured that much out. Home was a sanctuary, a place you could be yourself without the judgment of others. A place for those you loved. He’d always lived alone, but not her. As hurt as she’d been over the course of her life, she had opened up her heart to Penelope.

  And to me.

  Or maybe that was only wishful thinking. Hot sex didn’t mean she cared about him. She was with him now because she didn’t have a choice, not until they got to the bottom of this. Even if she wanted to leave, he couldn’t let her. There was still a tiny part of him that expected her to betray him. Keeping her with him was safer for them both. Once the threat was over, they’d part ways. It was better that way, for both of them.

  Every single one of the thousands of years he’d lived pressed down on him. The Deep Sleep was better than being bombarded by so many volatile emotions. He absently rubbed his chest.

  “What’s the plan when we get to Mack’s?” The car moved smoothly into another lane.

  “We’ll look around, see if there’s any correspondence between him and this Angel Foundation or anyone else. We can’t discount the idea he might have contacted them. It’s a long shot, but one we have to consider.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.” She snagged her covered cup of coffee and took a sip. “I did have a thought when I was getting ready.”

  Here it comes. She’d had time to consider everything he’d done. Was she about to suggest they part ways? He straightened and banged his head on the roof. Rubbing the abused area, he swore.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he snapped. This damn metal contraption was too small. It was claustrophobic, and his dragon hated it every bit as much as he did.

  “Anyway, I thought about things, because that’s what I do. I look at information from all angles and come up with possibilities.”

  When she hesitated, he prompted. “And now that you’ve had time to think things through, you can’t face what I am. Is that it?”

  “What? No, that’s not it at all. I thought about that, too, and I mean, if a paranormal gets out of control, who you gonna call? You’re like real live Ghostbusters only for vampires and werewolves and assorted others. There are assorted others, right?”

  His thoughts spun round and round as he tried to follow her. “You’re not upset about what I do?”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, and his new jeans quickly became tight and uncomfortable. He barely swallowed back a heavy groan.

  “It’s not a career I’d choose for you, but I understand why it’s necessary. It’s not like the cops or FBI or anyone could handle an out-of-control werewolf. But why you? Why don’t werewolves handle their own problems? Are you guys global or do you each take a country or continent? How many of you are there?”

  She finally stopped to take a breath.

  “Who or what are Ghostbusters?” He’d missed that in his research, spending all his time on technology, banking, military advancements, and politics—the important things.

  “What?” Her laugh was breathy. “Oh, movie characters. Movies are like plays. You can watch them on television or in larger venues with a bigger screen. Anyway, they hunt ghosts because no one else can. It’s like you and that Brotherhood, except it’s more humorous than serious.”

  He made a mental note to find out more about the movie. “Most paranormal groups handle their own problems. There’s a Vampire Council.”

  “That’s downright scary.” She reached up with one hand and rubbed her face.

  “And shifter alphas usually discipline or destroy any dangerous members of their packs. You have to understand that none of them want to be outed to humans.”

  “Because they’d be hunted.”

  “Yes.”

  “So where do you and the Forgotten Brotherhood come in?”

  “We’re contacted and we research the request extensively. Once we take a contract, we fulfill it. If anyone tries to hire us to kill an innocent, they’re the ones who die.”

  Her entire body shuddered, and her fingers flexed on the wheel. “I can see where that would be an effective deterrent.”

  “We’re contacted only in the direst of circumstances.” Why was he downplaying what he and the Brotherhood did? To make it more palatable for her? “But it happens more often than you’d think.” If she was going to be with him, she needed to understand and accept all of him. Every muscle in his body tensed, a low-grade anger thrummed through his veins—anger at her and the world in general. He hadn’t asked to be brought back.

  If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Raine. And that would have been a tragedy.

  “I get it.”

  There was no way she could fathom what it took out of him and the others. Some of them did it because they had no other options. They were killers and needed an outlet for their fury. But beneath it all, there was a bedrock of right and wrong. They did it because it was the right thing to do, because someone had to keep the world from running red in human blood. And they did it for acceptance. It gave them a place to belong. That might be the biggest driving force of all. They were loners, but even the most reclusive creature wanted someone to understand them, to offer a hand of friendship.

  “As I said, I did some thinking. Whoever sent those men had to know you’d kill them. They sent Mack and the others to their deaths. Why would they do that?”

  “You’re right.” As she skillfully changed lanes and picked up speed, he mulled over her revelations. “Unless another woke while I slept, I’m the first to come back from the Deep Sleep. They had no way of knowing what my mental or physical state would be if I did.”

  “It was a test,” she whispered, sounding appalled by the very idea.

  The world flashed by, but it was all a blur. The sides of the car pressed in around him. He wanted to fly with the air brushing his wings, wanted to soar high and far, leaving all this behind.

  Only concern for Raine was keeping him here. “Yes. It’s possible they expected me to kill you.”

  Her inhale was sharp and swift. “I see.”

  “I don’t think you do. Someone purposely put you with me. How did they know you’d be the one who could wake me? You’re not the first to stumble on my cave. I’ve sensed others before. It was more a faint buzz in the background, and I was able to tune them out. It was impossible to do that with you. Now they want to see if I’ll protect you.”

  A sliver of lore came to him. Drakons mated for life. There would only ever be one female, one mate for him. There was not another more powerful force in existence than the call of a mate. Nothing else could have broken the grip of the Deep Sleep.

  Impossible. How could anyone know who Raine was to him? Who would have access to that kind of knowledge before even he did?

  Dumbfounded, he stared at the smart, mouthy, courageous woman piloting their vehicle down the highway. It was the only thing that explained the unnatural attachment he’d had for her from the beginning, the relentless need to keep her safe.

  Was she experiencing anything similar? That might explain the sexual spark between them. She might be as unable to deny the pull of it as him, but it ran deeper. Being around her brought him a sense of peace and belonging that had been lacking in his entire life.

  His life was forever bound with hers. He wasn’t sure what that meant going forward, hadn’t paid attention to the rumors of mates that had spread throughout his kind over the millennia. They were so rare as to be mythical. The irony was that a drakon mate was scarcer than a drakon.

  No one special? He’d lay waste to the world to keep her safe.

  “What is it? You look pale.” She signaled and pulled the car onto the side of the road, the tires crunching on the roadside gravel. “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” She put the vehicle in park, undid her seat belt, and leaned over, putting her hand on his face.

  The concern in her eyes, the genuine caring in her voice, moved him. Something shifted deep inside him and locked into place. He finally understood and accepted what his dragon had known all along.