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  She didn’t know much about Michael. Not even his last name. The other time she had been here was only a vague recollection. She didn’t remember much about how she had gotten here tonight. Her mind was overtaxed and sluggish. She now swore she heard muffled voices when a search of the room proved she was alone.

  Had someone whispered her name?

  Chills began to ice her skin…skin covered by an unfamiliar, shapeless T-shirt dipped in Michael’s scent. His smell contained male pheromones that made her feel braver than she actually was.

  She got up, searched for the rest of her clothes on chairs and the floor without finding them, wondering if Michael had brought her from the park bare-ass naked.

  Damn it. She was sure she heard her name this time, and glanced to the door to see the knob turn. When that door opened, she sat down on the bed, waiting for the next ax to fall.

  A figure stood in the doorway, backlit by a light in the hallway that didn’t allow her to see anything other than that person’s silhouette. The tall, slender outline could have belonged to either male or female. The newcomer didn’t speak.

  “Who are you?” Kaitlin’s overworked nerves fired up another warning.

  Although the windows in Michael’s room were closed, a breeze ruffled Kaitlin’s tangled hair. The back of her neck began to tingle. She hoped to God this wasn’t a type of vampire her senses didn’t fully comprehend yet. Some bloodsucker sneaking under the radar when Michael had told her his place was safe.

  “Answer me, please,” she insisted. “I’ve had enough surprises tonight to last me a lifetime.”

  It was clear by then that whoever this was wanted to remain an enigma, and that seemed ominous.

  “Damn it. Speak up, or get the hell out.”

  The vehemence in her tone didn’t scare the person whose features were hidden from her. Kaitlin felt the coolness of this person’s attention. The light behind him or her got brighter the longer that maddeningly mute person stood there.

  “Then get out,” she said, hoping this intruder would obey without a fuss, since she had exceeded her tolerance level by miles and didn’t have the energy or know-how to back up a threat.

  The figure in the doorway complied with her demand by backing up. Her visitor then disappeared without closing the door. Kaitlin was on her feet before her next ten heartbeats had pounded out a further warning, and chasing after whoever it was.

  *

  Michael’s head came up. Kaitlin was moving, and sending warm vibes up and down his spinal column. He couldn’t concentrate on that at the moment, though.

  Devlin sidled over to him and lowered his voice. “The awkward thing about a veil like this one is that the passage leads both ways.”

  Michael stiffened. “You mean other things can access it to come here?”

  Don’t you dare leave, he sent to Kaitlin, picturing her wandering through the rooms in his cottage.

  He addressed the next question to Devlin as if they all truly believed Dev’s monologue about suddenly appearing shimmering veils being a bridge between worlds.

  “Who would come out of there, if the Fey did cross over?”

  “I’ve never seen one of them,” Dev admitted.

  “Then you don’t actually know they exist,” Rena argued. “Aside from your comments about stories having a basis in reality.”

  “If they don’t, we’re back to trying to decide what that thing is,” Dylan pointed out.

  “So, do we sit here and guard our park from what might come out of there, or get some much-needed rest?” Cade asked. “Say the word, Michael.”

  “I’ll stay,” Michael volunteered. “The rest of you can go home. Some of you have nine-to-fives and will be on your feet again before you want to, and tomorrow brings us not only closer to a mad Were and his henchmen, but also one step closer to the full moon.”

  He perceived Dylan’s discomfort with that reminder of Chavez being at his nastiest as a werewolf under a full moon. As the pack exchanged looks, Michael weighed his options. He would get home as soon as the sun rose to check on Kaitlin. At most, there were two more hours until the new day dawned.

  In their favor was the fact that few vampires chanced being caught above ground with a margin that narrow. And Tory and Adam were monitoring the location they believed might be Chavez’s temporary digs for signs of trespassing Weres coming and going. In terms of concern, that just left this freaky portal to the Fey as a potential problem. Vamps and Weres were at least partially predictable. Who the hell knew what the Faerie folk could do?

  He was tired. Spent. And he was facing another strange anomaly in a night overflowing with them.

  “Dylan,” he said. “Cade will show you how to get to my house. Make yourself at home. There’s food in the kitchen and blankets in the closet. I have one favor to ask of you.”

  “Ask,” Dylan said.

  “Will you stay close to Kaitlin until daybreak? I’ll be back by then. We probably won’t be able to see this thing after the sun comes up anyway.”

  He waved at the spot that stubbornly refused to disappear, and looked to Devlin. “If it’s here tomorrow, what will it look like?”

  “Not sure, boss.”

  “Oh, goody,” Rena said. “That thing might pick up the sunlight and be invisible?”

  Devlin shrugged. “You now know all I know about it.”

  Which wasn’t very much, Michael thought. He considered the ramifications of there being another species with the power to create a doorway in and out of the damn park he was supposed to patrol. And that species might believe Kaitlin to be one of their own.

  He eyed the curtain.

  Was this to be a Fey rescue mission? Was he nuts for believing Dev, and his own eyes?

  “Seriously?” he said to Dev. “You don’t know anything else?”

  Devlin shook his head.

  It was nothing really to go by. Not enough to bring enlightenment. The word Fey conjured no images in Michael’s mind, other than the one Devlin had opposed about tiny beings with wings. He worried that Rena would start calling Kaitlin Tink.

  “Would these creatures be angry about Kaitlin’s change?” Michael asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “They rarely mess with humans, though there are a few tales about wayward Fey mating with people. Those human-Fey hybrids are supposedly outcasts shunned by the rest.”

  “Meaning that they might not be too happy about Kaitlin being part wolf,” Rena suggested.

  Michael needed time to think on his own, without the others being part of the process. He hadn’t been alone since first meeting Kaitlin near this very place a few days ago. His thoughts had been filled with nothing but her since then. His body missed hers. He could hardly keep focused on other things. But both Kaitlin and his pack were quite possibly in jeopardy from a nebulous new direction that no one could actually pinpoint.

  Was there another world behind that ebony spot?

  The thought that came to him now was that if these Fey creatures shunned hybrids, maybe Kaitlin would be all right. Wolf aside, maybe the reason she had been a college student was due to the fact that Kaitlin had been another kind of hybrid to begin with. Possibly she had been one of those human-Fey beings Dev said the Fey didn’t accept.

  It could be that these Fey creatures had merely come here to see what was going on, and would eventually leave everyone alone. If Kaitlin wasn’t like them, they might leave her to him.

  He was all for that.

  His attitude had gone way beyond possessive. Plus, he wasn’t sure what happened to imprinted pairs if one was taken away, or even if one could leave such a pairing. Under dire circumstances, did imprinting reverse? After his mother had been killed by hunters, his father had never chosen another mate.

  Cade nodded to Michael and turned away, heading toward the street and Michael’s house. The big Were paused near the far grove of trees to wait for Dylan, giving the two Lycans some private space.

  “He’s a good Were,” Dylan sai
d, looking after Cade.

  Michael nodded. “The world would probably be astounded to learn that young Viking banker Cade Willis has a very private life after hours.”

  “And that Dylan Landau, a Miami attorney by day, hails from one of the largest packs in the East,” Dylan said.

  “Yes,” Michael agreed, thinking that both Weres managed their secrets well.

  Rena reluctantly followed Cade, glancing at Michael over her shoulder every few steps to make sure he wasn’t going to call them back. He had no intention of doing so.

  “Would you like me to wait with you?” Dylan asked, eyeing the sparkling anomaly beside them.

  “No. Thanks. If anything comes out of there, I’ll let you know.”

  When Dylan didn’t move, Michael sensed that the Lycan had more to say.

  “Speak,” Michael said.

  “I have a feeling that something already has come out of there.”

  Michael said in agreement, “I think so, too.”

  “So, you’re hoping to catch this visitor?”

  “I’m hoping that whoever or whatever that visitor is doesn’t try to take Kaitlin back with them when they go home.”

  “You have imprinted with Kaitlin,” Dylan noted.

  “It seems that I have.”

  After letting that comment settle, Dylan spoke again. “I’ll watch over her until you return.”

  “You have my gratitude for that, Dylan. I owe you one.”

  Dylan said, “Maybe I’ll call in that chip someday,” as he headed toward Cade.

  Alone at last, Michael turned his attention back to the possibility of the female he had bonded with being taken away to a place he could not access…and to Kaitlin’s having a bloodline that possibly either predated or ran parallel to his own.

  No longer a full-blooded Fey—if Fey was what Kaitlin turned out to be—would Kaitlin’s species shun her?

  The growl that bubbled up from his chest was a menacing warning for all intruders to keep off his turf. To his complete dismay, that growl was answered by a sound that was twice as deadly.

  Sensing movement, smelling trouble, Michael whipped around to fix his attention on the area where the sound had come from. His wolf vision picked up two Weres coming his way, some distance from where he stood.

  They were moving fast. One of them came in from his right side. The other unwelcome newcomer circled to his left as if the two were part of a hunting pack that had found viable prey. Their scent was feral and more animal than human, though they appeared to be human now. The area picked up the stink of raw, misplaced animosity directed at him.

  “You’re trespassing,” Michael called out, readying for what might happen next and guessing these were two more of the rogues the creep named Chavez had created with a savage bite or two.

  “Obviously no one has taught you the fine art of manners,” he added.

  As they approached, the beast on his right spoke in a harsh, gravelly voice that indicated a recent injury by way of a blow to the throat. “We don’t need manners or ruffled shirts to be able to hunt wherever we like.”

  This guy wasn’t crazed like the Were in the library, Michael noted. That didn’t help matters. Intelligence was hard to work around in criminals bent on utter destruction of the things others held sacred.

  “Why is that?” Michael asked, feeling his claws press against the inside of his fingertips, just seconds from his own big reveal. “You have no respect for the rights of others?”

  “We’re passing through,” the Were announced. “Here and gone.” He blew out a breath to mimic a fast-moving rush of air and added, “Plenty of harm, and no foul.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Fun.”

  “You can have fun elsewhere.”

  “Are you kicking us out, Alpha Dog?” the Were taunted.

  “As a matter of fact, if you come any closer, I’d love to give you the boot.”

  “That would be hard when it’s two against one.”

  “Piece of cake,” Michael said as his claws slid through the skin that had hidden them, causing no more discomfort than a light, familiar sting.

  “How did he do that?” the other Were asked his partner with a ring of surprise in his tone.

  “Fancy trick,” the Were on Michael’s right concluded. “Special effects.”

  Michael smiled. He couldn’t help it. Shit was raining down on Clement, and here two of those jokers stood.

  “Okay,” he said, fed up with everything that embodied the word nasty. “Let’s do this.”

  The Were on his right took a moment to process what Michael meant. Then he came at Michael with the force of a battering ram, snarling like a rabid dog, head down, fists raised. Inspired by that, the other Were joined in.

  Michael swung his arms, wielding his claws like blades, getting in a few good strikes that sliced Were hides and made rivers of blood. Fatigued beyond belief from the night’s events, he wanted to hold off a shape-shift for as long as possible, fearing that shift would take longer than usual and leave him momentarily vulnerable to these two greedy trespassers.

  The fact that neither of these guys had weapons made things easier in an uneven playing field. Brawn was the universal calling card of Chavez’s creatures, Dylan had told him. Though one of these Weres had shown a glimmer of intelligence, they were basically nothing more than fighting machines.

  He took three hits to the chest that sent him spiraling backward, and rebounded. He had sent the pack home a few minutes too early, and could have used some backup of his own. These Weres had been trained by a master. The stronger they were, the longer they would last in Chavez’s world.

  However, Michael was no newbie to the fighting scene. His father’s pack had taught him well. Working wood all day honed his muscle and kept him in tip-top shape. Being physical was what he liked. The more opponents, the better.

  “Beasts like you threaten Were anonymity and place innocent people in danger,” he said, rallying for another strike. “You have gone after a friend of mine, and I cannot allow that kind of behavior to continue.”

  He fought with all his strength and the fluid grace built into Lycan bloodlines—dodging blows, ducking flailing arms and returning to deliver his own brand of trouble. In this Lycan dance, he avoided real harm as the fight went on, with no one giving up or giving in.

  Suddenly, there was another presence added to this skirmish, coming in from street side at high speed. For a moment, Michael was worried about those changed odds. But when a familiar voice said, “Need some help, Michael?” he could have kissed the Miami cop, Dylan’s pack-mate Adam Scott, square on the mouth.

  The intruders didn’t seem to appreciate losing their advantage. Howling through human throats, they fought with all their might, no match for two of Clement’s defenders. In the end, both rogues turned their battered bodies around and sprinted in the opposite direction, with Michael and Adam close on their heels.

  The idiots ran straight toward the shimmering veil stretched between the trees, seeming not to notice the density of that particular spot. They hit that black curtain at full speed, one after the other…and disappeared. Poof. Gone.

  Michael grabbed Adam’s shirt and hauled the cop to a standstill. Adam hadn’t seen this anomaly. He had not heard the suggestions about its origins, and therefore could not possibly have understood what happened to the rogues.

  There was no sign of them at all.

  “What the hell?” Confused, Adam scanned the dark spot in front of him.

  Before Michael could explain, a rolling ground tremor staggered them both. The black curtain wavered. A flash of light brightened the area, nearly turning night to day ahead of schedule.

  Through that curtain came a projectile of bones, tossed by invisible hands back into the world Michael lived and breathed in. Those bones, Michael knew by scent, were the remains of the two rogues who had dared to trespass where they were unwanted.

  Michael met Adam Scott’s eyes with a startled lo
ok that said You might have missed something important.

  “You think?” Adam returned.

  Chapter 20

  “Kaitlin? You all right?”

  She recognized Dylan’s civilized scent of aftershave and laundered shirts without having to see that Michael had sent reinforcements to watch over her. She had been going after the curious visitor, and had made it only as far as Michael’s small front room.

  The strange visitor in her doorway had left her feeling out of place and hollow inside, when tucked inside her was a wolf, all curled up and readying for its next appearance. She had no idea how to set that wolf free. Possibly some things happened according to a preordained plan, like Michael’s wolf calling to hers. Becoming a wolf had been like a sexual response to Michael’s nearness.

  “He will be back soon,” Dylan said, appearing from around a corner.

  For a minute, she wondered if the visitor had been Dylan, realizing that Dylan would have spoken back to her.

  “Michael is in trouble,” she said. “And I’m grounded by a promise to behave.”

  “You would go to help him if you could?” Dylan asked.

  “Why haven’t you?” Kaitlin countered.

  “Michael wanted to be alone. This is his area, and I am his guest. I’m obligated to follow his wishes.”

  “Yes. He said Weres have rules.”

  “Rules keep us civilized, at least on the surface.”

  “And below that surface?”

  “We’re not always quite so obliging.”

  Kaitlin studied the handsome Miami Were, whose features were as chiseled as Michael’s, but whose scent wasn’t the one she craved. “Michael can handle himself,” she said.

  Dylan agreed. “I’m sure he is capable of handling most of the things that come his way.”

  Did that reply contain an underlying message about Michael being unable to handle his affection for her? Should she feel guilty about that?

  “And,” Dylan said, “Adam is out there tonight.”

  Adam would help Michael. That news brought relief.