5 comments/ 3521 views/ 4 favorites Dawn's Shelter By: msnomer68 Prologue In the essence of all things casual, Thomas avoided Jan like the plague. Theirs was not a kiss and tell relationship. Theirs wasn't a relationship at all. There was no such nonsense as holding hands or spending hours gazing into each other's eyes. There was sex. Dark moments of craving and indulgence, a temporary, no consequences union of bodies between the sheets, and then afterwards, a swift kick in the ass out the front door. Summer was gone in a flash of Fourth of July fireworks. Not that they saw the spectacular show the Ladies Auxiliary put on down by the lake. Nope, not these two unlikely lovers so locked in their hatred and disdain of all things relationship. They were a mound of joined flesh, sweating bodies, and tangled limbs. Shared pleasure was their declaration of independence from one another. And come, like the sweet taste of cotton candy, was on the tips of their tongues. Labor Day was much the same. Oh, they were busy working. Working over one another's bodies in a quick collision of flesh and rendezvous of pleasure. While the town celebrated, they chose to remain hidden away from the backyard cookouts in the cool, air-conditioned dimness of Thomas's bedroom. They even managed a brief appearance at the hospital employee picnic, not as a couple, of course, before sneaking off to do what it was they did in the first convenient place they could find. Halloween came and went with the frosty exhale of the pungent smoke of burned leaves and taste of crisp, tart apples. That night, like every other night, they wore their masks of cold indifference as they tricked and treated between the sheets of Jan's bed. Thanksgiving and Christmas, and many lonely nights in between were exactly the same. In and out, no muss, no fuss, and definitely, undoubtedly, and without question, no relationship. Thomas's New Year's resolution was a simple one whispered on a breathy sigh of pleasure as he perched on his knees between Jan's thighs to drink in the sweetest champagne he'd ever tasted and would likely ever taste again. Their trysts were secret. The time they spent together was not wasted on contemplation. There was no conversation beyond the immediate in the obviousness of their hidden non-relationship. They talked about nothing. Only mentioning what to put where. How deep to put it and how hard, fast, or slow they wanted it. And then, with shuddering climaxes and sweat-slicked skin on skin, the strained crying out of each other's names. Jan, naturally, was a January baby. And Thomas celebrated with her in the most unconventional way. Or, perhaps, it was the only way that made sense, given the nature of their perpetual one-night stand. He didn't take her out to dinner. He didn't buy her a present or scribble his signature on any sappy birthday card. But, he did give her gifts. His cock, his tongue, his hands on her curves, and his fingers searching out every sweet spot he'd discovered on her body. And Jan was just as happy to receive as he was to give. Most nights, he left his door unlocked. Likewise, he knew her door was unlocked for him. Sometimes, it was like that between the two of them, quick, unexpected, over and done. An open invitation to take what you wanted, give what the other person needed, then out the door and gone. Laughingly, he called the pleasurable surprise visits so filled with urgency and need 'drive by fuckings'. But hey, fucking was good. And fucking Jan or letting Jan fuck him was the best. He wouldn't say Jan brought out the worst in him. Nope, he brought out the worst in himself. She wasn't tying him down or forcing him to do anything against his will, although, that was an interesting idea. He did what he did because he wanted to do it. The same as she did what she did because she wanted to do it. Maybe, it was because of lack of available partners. Or maybe, it was simply a matter of convenience. He was there. She was there. And what they did for each other was enough to make them come back for more. He, the innermost parts of his mind that jangled in the back of his conscience like loose change in a pant's pocket, supposed the most likely explanation to their continual one-night stand was that nobody else would let it drag on for months and months without demanding more or calling the whole thing off. Thomas didn't know Jan's story. She'd never offered to tell. And he wasn't necessarily one for pillow talk. But, he knew his own. No woman had ever burned him. But, he'd never been lit on fire before either. Not the way Jan sparked him to life, anyway. Oh, he'd had his share of weakly smoldering embers. Sparks, he mistook for love and the possibilities that came with it. But, Jan was the one who lit him up. And that was the most condemning thing of all. He came. He gave. He took. And he damn well made sure she got as good as she gave. He left his door unlocked. Not because he wanted to get burned. And he had no doubt, if he got too involved. Jan would burn him. He wasted his time in this travesty of a non-relationship and never ending one-night stand. When instead, he should be looking for and wanting something more. Solely because the heat of her flame felt so damn good. Jan shivered and hurried her pace as she passed the wide windows of the flower shop. The winds were cold. Damn cold. Thanks to the endless mounds of snow, the parking in front of the bar was at a premium. She only lived a couple of blocks away. And tonight, she planned to get shit-faced drunk. Driving on an ice rink was not an option. So, she hustled her ass down the slick sidewalk with bits of salt crunching under the heels of her boots. Valentine's Day...funny, she thought the most accursed holiday of the entire damn year was still a month away. Fat paper cherubs dangled from fishing line, smiling sappily down at her from the store window. The chocolates in their lace trimmed and red velvet heart shaped boxes and vases brimming with baby's breath and red roses made her want to puke. She'd hold back the urge. Some idiot would probably slip and fall when her vomit froze to the sidewalk and then would end up being her patient. Shivering in her leather coat, she pulled the collar up higher on her neck and walked as fast as she dared over the frozen wasteland of a sidewalk. She didn't know what day it was. She didn't care. She'd had a shit day at work. She was off tomorrow. And everything else was inconsequential. These days, she sought warmth wherever she could find it. Whether it was found in a bottle of Jack Daniels or in Thomas's bed. The source didn't matter as much as the end result. She looked forward to the temporary thawing. The warm thrill of summer sunshine she found riding on the heels of a good drunk or a great orgasmic rush. It always ended the same way between them, a quickly negotiated truce from their mutual hatred of one another, a satisfying tumble in the sheets, and then, out the door. Sometimes, they went to her place. Sometimes, they went to his. Sheet washing duties were shared with the same carefully negotiated terms as they shared their bodies. And that was exactly how they wanted it. Sure, maybe it made her a shallow bitch. Thomas was like a lost puppy she'd fed once and left out on the porch stoop in hopes he'd wander off to beg scraps from someone else's table. The thing was, nobody else was inclined to take him in. He kept wandering back to her doorstep and she kept feeding him. She'd let him in only to toss him back out in the cold. Maybe, they were both shallow in this thing...whatever it was that wasn't a relationship and had somehow managed to evolve into an endless string of one-night stands. Jan flipped the cherubs the bird and rounded the corner. The welcome sign hanging in the One Shot's window tinted the dingy snow with a neon glow. The colored lights were the only splash color in this bleak, dark frozen wasteland of a town. She'd never lived in a town so small that she could go bar hopping and never leave her seat. People talked. People gossiped. And they gossiped about Thomas and her. Let them. That was her policy on the subject. At least it kept the one-toothed wonders, family tree doesn't fork, and bathing is an option type of local redneck men from hitting on her. The big talk, whispered when she was well out of earshot, was if Thomas were going to pop the question this Valentine's Day or not. As if! Thomas wasn't popping any question. At least, not that question and not to her any time soon or ever. They weren't going steady. This wasn't high school. They weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. They were fuck buddies. And that was as far as this no strings, non-relationship, no hearts and flowers, or sappy love songs agreement between them went. She hadn't come here to fall in love. She didn't have time for a relationship. And their non-relationship suited her just fine. She came...boy did she ever come. Or he came...and came again. And then it was over and done. No hassles. No messy entanglements. No escape clause necessary. That was the essence of the two or three hour truces between them that brought them together again and again. When they weren't between the sheets, they were at war. Thomas was a great guy. Just not the kind of guy she thought was great in any other capacity other than the bedroom. He was stuck on himself, moody, egotistical, and he didn't want a relationship anymore than she did. She'd picked this dark spot in the center of the universe for its obscurity. She'd come here to blend in and to hide from the things she couldn't change. Sex was a prison from which she could not escape. She'd found a partner where she'd least expected it. Love couldn't be in the equation. Ever. It was strange, if she'd just stayed put, she could have had all the sex she'd ever wanted. She could have had it with all the functionality and casualness of a one-night stand. Love would have never have been expected or even an afterthought. Theirs would have been a loveless commitment of coming together of bodies with only one end result in mind. The babies he'd make and she'd deliver into the cruelty and callousness of their world. And she'd wanted no part of it...of this world into which she had been born. She was quite literally the prized show dog in the arena. The bitch. Her purchase price was power and the prestige that came along with it. In the process of avoiding that trap, she'd stepped right into another. Thomas claimed he wanted nothing from her. And she repeated the mantra over and over in her head. He was not a cruel man. He was not heartless. He said the things he needed to say and she needed him to say in order to secure his spot in her bed. And she said the things he needed her to say and she needed to say to secure her spot in his. They both said the words and if asked, in their hearts of hearts, meant them. But, neither one of them actually believed the promises that tumbled from their lips in the fragile negotiations and subsequent truces. They were nothing and everything together. They had sex. They'd never made love. They hated each other for the simple reason that there was no other outlet for their emotions or for the forbidden curse of a love neither of them wanted. His body said the things to her that could never pass his lips. Her body repeated the unsaid and unwanted with the same hot passion. He handled her too gently. His hands roamed her curves with the self-assured possessiveness of a man certain of what belonged to him. And she, how many times had he gotten her there and she'd cried out his name? Not something a woman who didn't love would do. His name was a bitter obscenity, shouted in the storm of orgasm and it rang like thunder in her ears. Jan stomped the snow from her boots and took a deep breath. Tonight, the bar was the only hot spot in this cold, cold town. From the other side of the door, shut tight to keep out the frigid northern wind. She heard the twang of bad country music and hushed whisper of whisky fueled conversation. She could feel the chill of the doorknob biting through her gloves as she stood there debating. Icy bits of sleet mixed with the falling snow flitting down from a black, starless sky. In or out, decisions like this shouldn't be so difficult. But, for some reason, tonight, they were. She was a woman of contradictions. She kept secrets she couldn't tell. She lived a borrowed, temporary life. She hid from and ran to the same thing. She stole magic only to give it back. And she loved a man she wished she hated. Jan pushed open the door. Her senses were assaulted by the smell of old grease, sweat, stale beer, and the pungent reek of drunken despair. The toe of her boot had barely crossed the threshold when she saw him. His body swiveled toward the door as if he'd been expecting her. And who knew. Maybe, he had been. The seat beside him was empty. And a fresh glass of Jack and coke sat sweating despite the chill at the vacant spot. He tipped his head to her and without a word, swiveled on his stool and watched her approach through the mirror behind the bar. She ignored the curious stares and bravely walked across the floor. Not bothering to shrug out of her coat or with any pretense of pleasantry. She took her first sip of courage, accepting his invitation and calling the temporary truce necessary to land her in his arms for one more night. Thomas had his share of contradictions too. He kept secrets that weren't his to keep. He bedded her. He loved her. But, his loyalty and his heart belonged to a woman who loved another man. He was bruised. But, not battered. And he dashed himself over and over again on the rocks of this non-relationship between the two of them when he deserved and secretly wanted so much more. The rush of good whisky went straight to her head. But, the warmth surging through her veins came straight from him. Without a word passed between them, he finished his drink and slid into his coat. She watched him from the mirror behind the bar as he walked out the door. Not one to waste, she slammed back her drink and slid from the stool. Tracing his footsteps through the freshly fallen snow and layer of ice, Jan found her way to his house. The front door was open in waiting as if he knew she'd let herself in. And naturally, she did. Chapter 1 The winter was damned cold and mercilessly long. A pale yellow sun sank low into the western sky as night dropped her dark velvet skirts over the small town. Adding to the cold chill that drove down deep into Kacie's bones. She hunkered into what bit of warmth she could muster out of her goose down coat and heavy, faux fur, lined hood. Burrowing her face into the thick scarf around her neck to keep the tip of her nose from freezing off. She was on a mission. Find her sister and drag her kicking and screaming, if she had to, back to their home in South Texas. God, she missed Texas. Sure, it snowed, occasionally. Yeah, it got cold. But, a few chilly days in December were nothing in comparison to the biting February wind, sleet, and constant flakes of snow raining down on her. Of all the godforsaken places her sister could have chosen, why here? She'd spent the better part of last year, and all of this year, so far, tracking Jan across the United States. Finally, her sister settled in one place for long enough to be found. She knew her sister's love of nursing and that was how she'd located her. Jan had gotten her nursing license. So, finding the state had taken a whole five minutes worth of research on the Internet. Of course, the downside, she had spent the better part of a year calling and chasing blind leads across this frozen wasteland loosely called the heartland, trying to pin Jan down. This tiny burg had to be the right place. It was the only place left she hadn't looked. Her mother's warning rang in her ears. Come home with Jan in tow or don't come home at all. What the hell was she supposed to do with that? Her mother had been little help, except for funding this expedition in futility. Her mother had done nothing at all besides issue threats that she couldn't follow through on. Leaving her beloved youngest daughter to do all the work. Kacie missed her big sister almost as much as she missed Texas. But, her mission to find her older sister was business, urgent business. Everyone back home had grown weary of her sister's exodus and her mother's placating promises that Jan would return soon. When Jan left and didn't come back. She'd placed her whole family in a very precarious situation. And now it was up to Kacie to fix it. Kacie knew abandoning them wasn't what Jan intended to do. She had enough loyalty in her to not risk their lives. Jan's destiny had been planned for her from the moment of her birth. And she'd walked away from it, never looking back. Not that Kacie could blame her. She would have stepped in and taken her sister's place, if she could have. But, being second born was without rank or privilege. Jan had the ace. She'd been born with it in her hand. She'd discarded the only card she had to play that was worth a shit and along with it her predetermined destiny. Without Jan, her mother didn't have any cards left to play. Kacie didn't begrudge Jan for wanting her freedom. As a second born, Kacie could do whatever she wanted to with her life. Jan had the honor of carrying on the family responsibilities. And what responsibilities they were. Passing on their precious inherited genetic code to the next line of heirs. Her husband had been chosen for her from the best of the best that DNA had to offer, ensuring the strength of the bloodline survived. Yeah, Jan was a lucky girl. The guy, her fiancée, was the stuff of a girl's wet dreams. Torr had a body that promised to deliver the goods. He was tall, standing almost six-four, with six-pack abs and a broad chest. Thick, dark walnut hair that curled around a hard jaw and masculine face. His lips were full and looked so damnably soft. Made for kissing and suckling all those secret places that a girl wouldn't even tell her closest friends about. He had piercing hazel eyes that shimmered with flecks of gold and could make a girl want to get naked for him with nothing more than just a glance. Kacie would have gladly stood in for her sister. If for no other reason than to see if the guy was as good as he looked. Her sister had always been a rebel. She was one of the few who had complete control of her shifts and refused to give into the natural impulses of her body. When their mother tried to force her to marry Torr, Jan had a meltdown. Refusing to marry someone that she didn't love. Hell, they'd met only once. And she didn't even like him. Not in the least. Kacie supposed that Jan was right. The guy was nice in the eye candy department. But, personality wise, there wasn't love for anyone, except for himself. And yuck, who wanted a guy like that no matter how pretty he was? Jan had staved off the inevitable coupling for years. Insisting on getting her Master's degree in nursing first. Jan took her time, attending every class that she could. Using her degree to buy her time as she looked for an out. Meanwhile, the guy had grown impatient and had sewn more than one field of wild oats. Poor bastard. Some of those seeds took root. And Kacie didn't want to think about what his father probably did to the weeds that sprang up. It was a cruel injustice of their world. Either you were purebred genetically or you weren't...you just weren't... as in didn't exist, weren't. In the world of werewolves, compatibility had nothing to do with a mating. The strong were paired and carefully matched based on their ability to carry on the genetic line. Everyone else, like her, got what was left. Kacie considered herself lucky. She wasn't a firstborn. And was therefore free to marry anyone of her choosing. As long as they met with her mother's approval and they weren't too closely genetically related or anything weird like that. Dawn's Shelter Kacie melted into a row of thick evergreens as nurses filtered out of the tiny hospital and trudged through the sleet and slick slush to their cars. She'd placed a call to the hospital and had found a very helpful nurse on the other end of the line far too eager at the mention of a flower delivery to confirm that Jan was scheduled to work today till four. Kacie grinned as she spotted her sister, lugging out a vase loaded with red roses out into the frozen drizzle. The roses were a complete surprise and an utter mystery. Ginger had gone ape shit. Cooing and blathering over their beauty, smelling and rubbing the soft petals between her highly polished porcelain nails until the fragile flowers began to fall apart from her gentle manhandling. There was no card. No way to identify who had sent them. Jan had her suspicions. But, the question was, why? She'd barely seen Thomas since their last night together weeks ago. Why would he send her flowers now? She supposed they were pretty. But, flowers weren't her thing. To her, the vibrant red petals were the color of dried blood and not by any means a representation of love. And she'd already pricked her finger a dozen times on the stems' needle sharp thorns, proving just how painful love could turn out to be when unwanted. She'd never opened her heart to anyone and didn't plan to. Love was a bitter trap that she didn't intend to get ensnared by. She smiled back at the envious stare of a nurse trudging through the sleet beside her as she enviously eyed the roses. Great, she only had two or three friends in town. Carting around the obviously expensive flowers wasn't earning her any brownie points with her coworkers. Catty females. Tucking her long, sleek ponytail under the hood of her jacket she hurried through the icy deluge raining down from a positively ugly gunmetal gray sky. Valentine's Day didn't make her heart go pitter-patter. It made her stomach churn and bile rise up in her throat. If she could, she'd snatch Cupid's bow and arrow out of his pudgy little fingers and shoot the winged bastard straight through his sappy beating heart. The unit was a buzz of activity today as the nurses babbled on and on about their plans for Valentine's Day. But, the accursed holiday wasn't for another few weeks. The unexpected flower delivery and the envious conversations of the nurses were the topic of the day. Jan kept herself busy with her patients. After all, that's what the hospital was paying her to do. And the delivery of the gaudy red roses took her completely off guard. She plunked the vase into the passenger side floorboard of her car and climbed behind the wheel. Rubbing her gloved fingers together to generate some warmth as coaxed the aged engine to rattle to life. The heater ran, most of the time. And she was only a few blocks from home so what did she care if the car got nice and toasty warm or not? In the summer or when the weather permitted she walked. The forecast had called for something called a 'wintry mix' today. Being from Texas, she had no idea what that was. But, this afternoon, she was getting an education in all the various forms of precipitation that could possibly fall from the sky. Wintry mix was a loose term meaning freezing temperatures, gray skies, and freaking pellets of ice that went plink, plink, plink as they landed on her windshield. Toss in a little snow and a few fat raindrops and voila...wintry mix. She backed out of her space and idled the engine down the road leading to her house. The roads were slick and driving the two blocks to her apartment was a steering wheel gripping experience. She hated winter. But more than that, she hated winter here. She wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a dumpster for the roses. She should have given them away. Instead, she was carting them home and up the icy stairs that led to her tiny apartment above Ginger's garage. For some reason, she couldn't part with them. They were a gift from Thomas. The only tangible thing she'd ever gotten from him. They had an 'arrangement' of sorts. Sex only, no flowers, no candy, no presents, and definitely no love. They had sex. And afterwards, she'd always hightailed it for the door. They'd only spent one night together. And it had scared the hell out of her. She'd woken up snuggled in his arms. Staring into his boyish face wiped innocent by sleep. He wasn't anything spectacular to look at. Merely an ordinary guy, rapidly approaching the dreaded middle age mark complete with thinning, sandy brown hair and laugh lines encircling his blue eyes. He wasn't a big guy, medium in height and build. He worked out and was trim and fit with the body of a long distance runner. He wasn't repulsive by any means. But, he was no rock star in the looks department to be certain. Yet, he knew exactly how to rock her world. She parked the crystal vase on the dollhouse-sized table that made up her dining room table and let her purse and coat fall across the wooden chair with a thud. Ripping free her nametag, she tossed it on the table. The picture of her on the ID badge made her look like a dangerous felon. Who was she kidding? She wasn't a looker either. And her thirties were right around the corner. Her short and petite stature made her the perfect size when she stood next to Thomas. Their bodies fit together like matching pieces of the same puzzle. Her curves fit nicely, tightly against the hard planes of his body. That didn't prove a thing. Physically, they made a good pair. Especially when the lights were off and they were sweaty in the sack. She pulled the loose scrub top over her head and wiggled out of the drawstring pants. Not caring if one of her neighbors could rubberneck and see her through the sliding glass door leading to her balcony or not. Personality wise, she and Thomas were not a good match. Their whole relationship was based on hate, no love, just hate. She'd despised him since the second she'd met him. He was an old school doctor. He barked orders and expected nurses to jump, like circus ponies through a ring at his command. That didn't bode well with her. Not in the least. He barked at her once and got the shock of his career when she gave it right back to him. And like a hot cigarette butt flipped out of a car window in the middle of an August dry spell, that incident had been the spark that set the forest on fire. She freed her hair from the navy blue band holding it into a ponytail and shook out the strands. Cascading over her shoulders and breasts, down the small of her back her sleek, dark hair stopped about mid waist. The roses made absolutely no sense. The lack of a card, however, did. No one was supposed to know that the Good Doctor and she had an occasional hook up reserved for holidays and lonely nights. Snapping the clasp on her bra, she let it fall and hit the floor. The white socks came off next. And then her underwear landed on the tacky sculpted forest green carpet left over from a bygone era. She supposed he'd sent the flowers, hoping to get an in. Expecting her to call him and say thanks for the gift and swoon over how beautiful they were. Damned things. Walking naked through her apartment, she flicked on the shower and waited for the tepid water to turn scalding hot and the dinky bathroom to fill with steam. She wasn't going to call Thomas. Maybe, it was a man's math. But, roses did not equal blowjobs. Hell, she was happy to provide the service free of charge. Thomas had showered in this tiny bathroom. Thankfully, the shower had been too small to accommodate both of them or she might have been tempted to hop in with him. Her conscience bit at her. The flowers had to be expensive. He could spare the change. She knew that. But still, he'd thought of her and ordered them. The least she could do is put her finger to the phone and graciously spend a few minutes thanking him. She would spend no more time on him than she did on her hair. Dragging a comb through the wet mass of tangles she worked the strands until they were sleek and pulled into a tight damp braid across her back. She thought probably, she'd spend less time thanking him than she would on her hair. Chapter 2 Kacie had a place of employment. She had an address. She considered her accomplishments a major success. Now, all she had to do was figure out a way to get her sister to come home. Not going to be so easy. She shrugged out of her coat and dropped it across the back of a yellow metal chair. Determined to enjoy one of the delicacies she'd discovered in this piss poor excuse for a town. The happy burger deluxe dripped its mix of sauce and grease down her pinkie as she dug in. The burger was heaven in a wrapper. Sheer and utter paradise found in this frozen wasteland she lovingly nicknamed Hell's Fridge. After dinner, she planned to go back to the hotel that was her temporary home, turn the heater on full blast, and report in to her mother. That was the closest thing she had to a plan, for the time being. Now that she'd found her sister. She had to get her in the car and get them both the hell out of here. The cutie sat at a table all alone. Munching on a fry as she stared blankly out into the fading gray twilight. She hadn't so much as noticed him when he walked in, placed his order, and sat at a table across the restaurant from her. Tristen had definitely noticed her from the plate glass window as he'd navigated his Camaro into a parking place. She was the reason fast food restaurants still had dining rooms. If he'd gone drive through, he would have missed one hell of a view. He had time. He always had time to ogle a vision of beauty. He wasn't searching for a mate. But, that didn't mean he didn't enjoy window-shopping from time to time. Something to pass the hours until the right one came along. The girl had hair, black as night. Miles and miles of long, sleek ebony waves that ended in a series of curls at the middle of her back. Her skin was the color of a sweet buttery caramel. And boy, would he ever like to get a taste to see if her flesh was as sweet as it looked. She had a tight compact, athletic, little body and pert breasts, just right for the palms of his hands. Their hilly tops peeked suggestively over the top of her v-necked, raspberry colored, fleece sweater. Her eyes flashed in his direction, green and brilliant as emeralds in a jeweler's case. Obviously, she was feeling the weight of his stare. Spellbound. And what woman wouldn't be by the vibe of his sexual energies? She was definitely feeling the pull of their love connection. Kacie had no tolerance for the redneck drooling at her from across the restaurant. He wasn't bad, for a redneck. But, flannel was not her taste. She preferred her Texas boys. They had the right stuff. This idiot probably didn't have thirty-two teeth in his head, let alone sense enough to carry on a decent conversation. He wore faded jeans, stained with grease and God knew what else. His long legs ended with a pair of worn work boots poking out from a ragged hemline. He wore the obligatory brown barn coat and flannel shirt required of all the hicks she'd seen in this town to date. She hoped he'd had the decency to wash his hands before he dug into a burger as big as his head. Especially given what he might have been doing before he sauntered into the restaurant like he owned the place and ordered dinner. He'd probably been shoveling cow shit or some other classy redneck pastime. Oh yes, he did have thirty-two teeth, she noticed as he broadly flashed his pearly whites at her in a cocky smile. He was a long and tall drink of water. Too lanky and lean to be what she would consider built. His hair was black, pulled into a tight, stubbly ponytail at the nape of his neck. His high cheekbones and russet colored skin gave hint to his heritage and added to the masculinity of his facial features. His broad, thick lips pursed in a half-frown as he realized she was studying him. Kacie blushed and looked away. No longer interested in her food, she stood and gathered up the uneaten remains of her meal. He followed her with a pair of intense brown eyes, tracking her every move like he was on the hunt. She gritted her molars and rolled her eyes at his interest. Great, she'd probably attracted the only rapist in town. She dumped the remains of her spoiled meal into the garbage and made tracks for the door, putting as much distance between her and the possible sex offender as she could. She froze in mid stride at the sound of masculine throat clearing behind her and the rumble of a deep bass voice. "Miss? Excuse me, but you left your coat and purse." Tristen shot the girl a grin as she turned to glare at him with an expression as hard and disdainful as if she'd discovered she'd discovered dog poop on the sole of her shoe. He held the coat open. Politely, helping her shrug into the heavy parka when she finally acquiesced. The coat was massive, made for subzero weather and dense snows. Where did she think she was? Antarctica? But, he couldn't miss the lush scent of her embedded in the fabric. She smelled of hot, tropical, summertime nights and a hint of something he couldn't quite place. She was a tiny thing. The top of her head barely met his chest. He probably out weighed her by at least a hundred pounds. Her facial features were that of a doll's, delicate and molded to perfection. Everything about her screamed fragile and it flared his protective instincts to life. The wolf constantly a part of him sniffed, tasting the air as he paced the corners of their shared consciousness. This woman child...this girl was something more than what she appeared to be. And didn't that peak their curiosity. Kacie muttered, "Thanks." He held her coat wide and showed no signs of relinquishing it. Standing toe to toe, he was bigger, taller and broader than he appeared when he was sitting slouched in his seat. There was an aura about him...the aura of something other. He had an attractiveness that was just part of him. His was a raw sexuality that spoke of cool nights beside the fire and the shared pleasure of naked flesh on flesh. The sooner she got rid of him the better. She rolled her eyes at his show of chivalry and slid into her coat. This close to him she caught his scent. He smelled of damp pine and thick wood smoke, of wild wolf musk, and of untamed male. Her wolf purred in approval. And no, there'd be none of that. Kacie snatched her purse out of his hand and flung it over her shoulder feigning indifference. She so did not want to have any kind of a verbal exchange with this guy. He wasn't her type. Her wolf was perpetually hot and bothered and far too often she pulled the strings in this body they shared. And while it might be fun to play house with this guy for an hour or two, she sensed he was not the player he pretended to be. He was one of those guys who played for keeps. And she didn't have time for that. He flashed her a playful, youthful, teasing, flirtatious grin. He was too young for her, probably younger than her by a couple of years or more. And in the world of men and boys, a couple of years made all the difference. She preferred the company of older, more mature men. And besides, she was here on business. The last thing she needed was a horny, post-pubescent male just out of diapers sniffing around her. "My pleasure." Tristen extended a hand and shot her the most dazzling smile he could muster. This girl invented the cold shoulder and she had the routine down pat. The harder he tried the more her disdainful scowl marred her pretty face. He was used to women playing hard to get. Especially since he had yet to actually catch one in the snare of his male magnetism. Oh well, the game was fun anyway. "Tristen." Stifling another eye roll, Kacie took his hand and gave it a loose, brief shake. "Leaving," she answered as she turned and marched out of the door. "Yow," Tristen snickered. Blowing off the chilly reception he'd received from Miss Leaving, he returned to his dinner. A woman that was as cold as the northern wind holding the valley in the grasp of winter was no reason to waste a perfectly good meal. Especially not a double, happy burger supreme with extra secret sauce, two large fries, and a chocolate shake big enough require its own zip code. He watched through the plate glass window as she backed a non descript, black Honda with Texas plates out of a parking space, signaling to turn to the left towards the interstate. Something about her definitely had piqued his curiosity. Maybe, it was the fact that she'd turned his balls to ice cubes beneath that frosty glare of hers. Yeah, a girl like that was definitely an ice queen. But, thawing her out would have been fun. Too bad, she was probably on the interstate by now. Headed to her destination, and although he didn't know where that was It definitely was not here. A girl like that didn't belong in a town like this. The local girls were more to his liking. Pretty girls with fading summer tans and sun kissed highlights in their hair, real, Midwestern, farmer's daughter types. He hadn't actually worked up the nerve to talk to any of them. Otherwise, he wouldn't be sitting here alone stuffing his face with a cheeseburger. But, he was getting around to it. Sometimes, it paid to scope out the scenery first and just enjoy the view. And the girl bent over the table Miss Leaving had just vacated, scrubbing the worn yellow formica clean had one hell of a nice view. Chapter 3 Thomas spent the day with his mom. He drank coffee while she wistfully watched him. She couldn't indulge and precariously lived her lack of a culinary life through him. He pushed the creamer across the counter. Cutting her off as she encouraged him to add another dollop to his coffee. He could damn near use the stuff as syrup as it was. "Oh come on, just a little more." She was like a coffee pervert. Getting her jollies out of watching her son sip at the decadently sweet and creamy brew. How long had it been since she'd had a taste? Almost a year? Boy, how time had a way of creeping up on a person when it didn't have to be measured and every last bit of it squeezed out like juice from a lemon. Time was the one thing she had plenty of. Her son had seen to that. If he hadn't, her time would have been up and she in her grave rotting beneath the headstone that bore her name. "Mom, quit." Thomas parked his hand over the mug of rapidly cooling coffee. She'd made him add so much junk to it that it was lukewarm. He snickered as she squared her shoulders and self-consciously adjusted her blonde hair. Her blue eyes were fixed on the mug as he lifted it to his lips. She sighed and licked her lips in deep longing. This was the part he hated. When what he'd taken away from her to save her life became far too evident and the guilt twisted in his guts like a knife. He slammed the cup on the counter. "Forget it! I'll grab a cup at the gas station on my way home." "Sorry Honey, there's just so much that I miss. Coffee is in the top ten, I regret to say." She dumped the mug out into the sink and poured him a fresh cup from the pot. Straight up black, the way he liked it, not with extra cream and sugar, the way she used to take hers. "You'd think that I'd be over it by now." "Mom, I'm sorry." He reached across the stainless steel countertop and grabbed her hand. Squeezing it tightly in understanding and just a small twinge of guilt. Despite her difficulties, he could not regret the choice that had led them to where they were. If he'd stood by and let nature take its course, he wouldn't be talking to her now. She'd be dead. Eaten from the inside out from the cancer that was stealing the best years of her life away from the both of them. Now, neither one of them had to worry about that anymore. He knew smokers that had given up the habit over twenty years ago and still craved a cigarette with the same fervor that they had when they were in the grips of the habit. He supposed that what his mother was going through was natural. He should consider himself lucky that her eyes were fixed on the coffee mug instead of the carotid that pulsed beneath his collar. Dawn's Shelter "I miss being alive," Barbara confessed. Idly she played with the sugar bowl. Rolling the sticky spoon she'd used to stir Thomas's coffee between her fingers, she blinked and stared up at her baby boy. He didn't get it. She walked. She talked. She went through the motions of being alive. But, she wasn't. She hadn't been since that fateful night when he'd introduced her to the darker side of reality. He saved her life. Begged her to do it, for him. And like the good mom she was, she hadn't given herself a thought. She drank. She lived, for him. "You are alive," Thomas interjected. He refused to see it any other way. She was walking upright and talking. So what, she had a few handicaps. She was still his mother. He still loved her. And he still had her. Everything else was inconsequential as far as he was concerned. Barbara smiled hollowly at her son. Her little boy was now a grown man. And she was so proud of him. Being cooked up in the maze of subterranean tunnels and rooms must be getting to her. Usually, she could fake it better. Hide her feelings behind a wall of dark humor. But, today, she had no jokes and no funny musings. Only the stark truth she'd never before mentioned to him. She was alive. She'd sacrificed the death that was coming for her to be with her son for as long as she could. And the fact that someday, she was going to have to let him go hurt. She promised herself she'd give him what he had not given her, the right to choose his fate without any intercession on her part. "I suppose I am," she agreed. Although, it was a long stretch for her to call lurking about underground and hiding from the world and from people she cared about, living. Everyone she'd ever known thought she was dead, except for a select, trusted few. Legally, she was dead and she was going to have to stay that way, at least for the mean time. Until everyone she knew and cared for topside went to their graves. She was in hers. "If you ever chose this life, I wouldn't stop you," she said, tentatively. Death, mortal death, could be faked. Computer records altered. Thomas could disappear, just as she had. "Do you ever think about it?" "I don't." He almost added that he wasn't done living yet. But, he clamped his lips tight. That statement would definitely not help to pull his mom out of whatever funk had her so down in the dumps today. The truth was, he was still waiting to get a life. He couldn't live what he didn't have. His life was an endless blur of days. Taking care of sick people. Keeping healthy so that he could help others do the same. He came home to an empty house. And after dinner, he usually fell asleep in front of the TV. Oh yeah, and then, just for chuckles, he'd have occasional casual sex, on holidays and lonely nights with a woman who despised him and hated the fact that he was held to the planet by the same gravity and breathed the same air that she did. Yeah, he had a life, and what a life it was. Thomas Steriling's life was one big party. Day after day, the entertainment never stopped. Still, as bad as things were, he couldn't see ending it prematurely. Trading the temporary state of living for the semi-permanent state of almost endless days and nights. He simply did not have the stamina for it. One life, seventy or eighty years on this planet, was more than enough for him. He shared a psychic link with his mother. She had to have human blood to survive. That was the nature of the beast that she was. She could get by, for a time on animal blood. But drinking from him was an unfortunate consequence of her condition. And the link the drinking formed was an unfortunate side effect. He had to fight to keep his thoughts his own and private. She had always been very attuned to him. The way a mother should be to her child. But, now, privacy, not even in his own head, was a luxury. She snickered, "I think we both need to get laid." "Mom!" Thomas's jaw dropped and he clutched his chest feigning pretend shock. He returned her smile with a sly grin. "You might need to get a little. But, I've got that department thoroughly covered. This doctor makes house calls." Barbara snorted. Her son had no life, let alone a sex life. "Boy, I used to change your diapers." She held up her pinkie finger and waggled it, teasing him. "I've grown since then," Thomas said. Gesturing with his hands, he wished he were half the size he boasted. But, what would a man do with a cock that big? Certainly not get it anywhere near a woman with any common sense. Snickering, he shook his head as his mom pinned him with the look that she gave him when she knew he was full of shit. Barbara was grateful for her son's attempt to pull her out of her melancholy mood. Her baby boy was one of those sensitive types. She'd raised him right. She just wished he would find some girl and hook up and get busy making those grandbabies she'd always dreamed about. "Ha, I almost sued the doctor. I thought he took too much off when he circumcised you." "The women should write him thank you letters then. The ladies can barely handle this bad boy as it is. I'm out there tearing it up every night." "Then, how come I don't have any grandchildren?" "Who says you don't?" Thomas rounded the counter of the counter and gave his mom a tight squeeze around the waist, lifting her off her chair and spinning her lightly in a half circle before setting her down again. When he was little, she used to do the same to him. He outgrew it and got too heavy for her to spin. She could lift him now and spin him until he puked, thanks to her vampire blood. But, it wouldn't be the same. Nothing was. Barbara ruffled her son's hair. "You better get over your bad self." Her face lit up as Thomas pressed his lips to her cheek to give her an affectionate peck. "I love you, Thomas." "I love you too, Mom." He gathered up his coat and slung it over his shoulder. Seeing his mom smile got him right there, straight in the heart, every time. He knew the inevitable hovered between them like a dark cloud. He tried to get her used to the idea of letting him go. Maybe, it wouldn't happen for a long time. But, it would happen. And they both had to accept it. Someday, he was going to die. "Don't be a stranger," Barbara called after him. "Ma, they don't make 'em any stranger than me," he retorted. "True." She laughed. "Very true." Her son was a good man. And she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of self-pride at how well he'd turned out. Raising him as a single mother hadn't been easy. She'd made a lot of sacrifices to get him through med school and to where he was now. He was every mother's fantasy child. Smart. Rich. Good looking. And he was totally devoted to her, too much so. She didn't know when the time came, if she'd have the strength he asked of her, if she'd be able to let him go. The Shaman hadn't meant to spy on Barbara and her son. He shrank back into the shadows of the rec room and peeked around the corner to watch the playful and loving exchange between mother and son. They loved each other so much. Seeing them together was always bittersweet for him. He felt the pang of longing for the family he'd left behind two centuries ago. When his life had taken him on a different path and he could no longer bear to be part of the mortal world. Barbara was a loving mother, wholly devoted to her son. And Thomas was a good son, equally devoted to her. There was nothing one would not do for the other. When Thomas had held him at knife-point and taken him to Barbara's sick bed. Thomas had proven how far he would go to protect those that he loved. He'd risked his life to save hers. The Shaman was a skillful fighter and could have easily have disarmed Thomas. He could have killed him for threatening him. Instead, he'd taken one look at the weak and shriveled woman. Spellbound by the love in her eyes as she stared up at her son and the sadness that reflected within them. She was dying and she knew it. She knew she'd have to leave him behind. That moment, that spark of love that glimmered in her dulling blue eyes, made the decision for him. He could not allow death to separate mother from son. He held the way out for both of them within his beating heart. Opening her vein, he drank, swallowing her death and giving her life as he spilled his blood across her pale lips. Barbara mystified him. She was a modern woman. And would not conform to his concept of what a woman should be. Ok, so maybe, his notions of proper behavior were a bit out dated. But, she would not even make an attempt at obeying him. He was her mentor. He knew what was best for her. He would protect her, if only she'd shut up and listen. He'd never been so frustrated by a woman. And in all his days, he'd never met one so damnably stubborn and hard willed as her. Or one who could make his blood boil with nothing more than a glance with those round, blue eyes of hers. He was fine with his life the way it was before she came into it. His life made sense. He dabbled with his herbs and meditated for hours on end. He offered advice and spiritual guidance to his brothers. And they listened. Revered him and his wisdom. But her, she'd thrown his orderly life into complete chaos. She thought he was foolhardy and pig headed. And she'd said as much. There was only one time when she was quiet. When he stilled her lips beneath his. And even then, she communicated much, needing no words to convey her thoughts. She liked it when he kissed her. And he'd never had a woman return a kiss with such a fevered passion as she did. Perhaps it was her modern attitude that freed her from modesty and shyness. He didn't know the why, only that he liked it. Her openness suited him. It was unfortunate, that they couldn't explore their feelings in depth. He was her mentor, and that made her morally off limits to him. How could he guide her if he were involved with her? How could he protect her if his vision was clouded by passion? The answer was simple. He couldn't. Barbara sensed that her mentor was near by. She felt his eyes on her back. He could bore holes right through her with the intense heat radiated from his brown eyes. He was a sight. An odd blending of old tradition and new, he wore a long braid of silver hair down his back, kaki Dockers, and a wrinkled, pastel, button down oxford. He completed his eclectic look with a medicine bag securely affixed to the designer leather belt looped through his pants. His simple dress and awkward ways, hid, but did not disguise the warrior that was beneath them. He never threw anything out. When she'd suggested, even tried to cover up the hideous orange lounge chair from the sixties that occupied the corner of his room with a throw. He'd come unglued and thrown her out instead. She had left it at that. She should be his mentor. Luckily for him, she wasn't. She'd drag him kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. And the first thing to go would be that ugly ass chair. "Doc, come on out. I know you're there." She said turning her back to the sink and staring into the shadows from the darkened rec room. She refused to call him by his title, Shaman. Who did that? Doc suited him. He was a doctor, of sorts. "I didn't mean to disturb you." The Shaman didn't mind Barbara addressing him so casually. He sheepishly emerged from the shadows. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a silky button down blouse of pale silk that showed off her lovely breasts. He couldn't think like that. Not about someone under his charge. "You didn't." She frowned as he moved silently toward her. She swore he didn't walk but floated on air. Even with her superior hearing, she couldn't hear his feet slap against the tile floor beneath them. He was a wrinkled mess. One end of his collar stood up and his shirt was buttoned wrong. She couldn't help herself. She stepped closer to straighten him up, turning down his collar and setting his buttons to rights. His hands slid down her silky, cream-colored shirt, latching onto a button and sliding it through its hole, hiding the soft valley of her cleavage from his view. He didn't want to think about her breasts. He didn't want to see them. Who was he kidding? Yes, he did. She was just too appealing, too much of everything, for him. Tending to him, righting his collar with those soft, gentle, efficient fingers of hers as she moved down his chest, rebuttoning his shirt. The contact, subtle as it was, sent a surge of thoughts through his brain. Thoughts, he certainly didn't need. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stilling her hand. The exchange that occurred between them was not a verbal one. They understood each other. They both wanted what they could not have. The reason real or not, separated them. It had nothing to do with her being a pupil under his care. Or with him being her mentor. The gap that separated them went deeper than the excuses. They were from different times. Born into very different circumstances. Separated by a universe of time. They lived together under the same roof. But, they were worlds apart. "Things could be different between us," Barbara whispered. Closing her eyes as his finger pressed against her lips, stilling her words. "No, they can't." The Shaman pressed his lips to the finger that rested on her warm mouth. Her lids opened, revealing the dazzling aquamarine of her eyes. Her eyes challenged him. Her eyes spoke where her voice had not. Burning with a fire he could not extinguish. Giving in would only make it hotter until it consumed them both to ash. "I came to see if you needed anything before I retired to my chambers." "Nothing you can help me with." Barbara stepped up to lean her body against his. She had no problem with conveying her frustration. She could feel his frustration, sizzling along her flesh. "I'm sorry..." Barbara cut him off, "Spare me the speech. I've already heard it." She turned and left him standing in the kitchen. Chapter 4 Jan dialed the phone. She called Thomas's pager often enough at work that she had the number memorized. If she were lucky, maybe he wouldn't call back. When her phone jangled to life, she wasn't surprised. She didn't have that kind of luck. She didn't have to look at the display to know he was returning her call. "Hello." "I got a page." Thomas recognized the feminine lilt of Jan's voice immediately. The number he'd dialed wasn't a number he knew. She wasn't at work. Why was she paging him? She'd gone out of her way to avoid him over the last couple of weeks. And he'd reciprocated the favor. But, God knew, he was counting down the days till Valentine's Day. Maybe, there was a holiday he'd forgotten about. Could he be that lucky? Surely, somewhere on the globe, some culture was celebrating a holiday. Druids. Hindus. Freaking Moonies. Didn't matter to him. Any excuse to celebrate in a bit of her holiday cheer was a good one to him. Damn, and Jan thought it was cold outside. His voice conveyed no warmth whatsoever. He wasn't annoyed, but he wasn't friendly either. "I called to thank you." Screw it. She had taken the time to dial his number and he'd taken the time to return her call. She was going to thank him and get it over with. Say thanks, goodnight, and put him out of her mind. At least, till Valentine's Day. Thomas puzzled over Jan's reply. She was thanking him? He hadn't done anything. He kept strictly to the terms of their agreement. Oh, he'd seen pretty things in the stores here and there. Something would catch his eye and his thoughts would automatically run to Jan. He'd wonder if she'd like flowers, candy, or scented candles he picked out for her. He'd even thought about buying that satin teddy he'd seen on display in Hanna's storefront window. But, then he'd remembered their arrangement. "For what?" He hadn't the foggiest idea of what she was talking about. "The roses. That was very thoughtful of you." Jan bit out the words. What was his deal? Did he regret sending them? Maybe, she should mail him a check for the flowers. Maybe, she should toss them and the heavy crystal vase through his front window to remind him of his purchase. Roses? He hadn't sent any roses. A surge of jealousy reared its ugly head. If he hadn't sent them, who had? Obviously, she didn't know. And if he took credit, he might soften her up and get between her sheets before Valentine's Day. No, he couldn't do that. If she had an admirer other than him, good for her. Maybe, she'd meet someone she could screw who wouldn't kick her to the curb immediately afterwards. He ground his teeth before he said something cruel and hurtful to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't send you any flowers." Jan stammered, feeling like a total fool. Then panic set in. If he hadn't sent them, she had only one guess at who had. She bolted to the sliding glass door and pulled the plastic vertical blinds closed tightly against the night. Checking to make sure the lock was engaged on the front door, she flicked off all the lights. "I... there wasn't a card. I assumed it was you." She hated the panicked tone in her voice. She double-checked the deadbolt on her front door. Her heart raced in sheer dread. She had to get out of here. If she'd been found, what were they waiting for? Her family wasn't exactly the type of people to bother with roses or surprises. They'd simply collect their prize breeder and haul her back to Texas. She wouldn't get a second chance at escape. Even if they had to lock her away somewhere, they'd make sure she stayed put for good this time. She'd never get away from them again. The stench of the roses became unbearable. They sat in their fancy crystal vase mocking her. Teasing her. She picked up the vase and hefted it across the room where it shattered in a resounding crash spilling rose petals and green leaves all over the floor. The vase busted through the thin, cheap paneling covering the walls, leaving a splintered hole to reveal the cinderblock walls of the garage on the other side. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" "Jan? Are you ok?" He hadn't meant to upset her. Only to tell her the truth, he hadn't sent the flowers. He'd heard the crash of the vase and the tinkling of hundreds of shards as they fell onto the floor. "JAN!" The display on his cell phone indicated that the call had ended. He couldn't leave it like this. He was only two blocks away from her apartment. It'd be faster to run the distance than to try to drive, given the piss poor condition that the streets were in. He grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him. Jan knew this time would come. She was ready for it. She was reluctant to sever the few ties she had to this town. But, if her family knew where she was. She had no other choice. She fished out a shoebox from her bed and pocketed the wad of cash she'd stashed away for a rainy day. God, her family could be coming for her right now. They'd sent the roses to play with her. She stuffed her clothes into a duffel bag and tugged at the bulging zipper with trembling fingers. She'd make up something to tell Ginger and her employer. Her heart pounded in her chest. She'd been so careful. She'd gotten away with hiding for almost a year. Now it was time to face the facts. Her mother and her damned omegas would hunt her until there was no place left for her to run. Her mother, bitch that she was, would never give up. She slung the bag over her shoulder, teetering its weight. She'd drive to the city, ditch the car, and hop on a bus. The destination didn't matter, as long as it was as far away from here as possible. She was out of time. Jan paused for a second. Taking a last look at the empty apartment that had been her home for the past year. She flicked on a light. Maybe, they'd think she was home. Or maybe, they hadn't found her apartment yet. She liked her job and didn't want to quit. Maybe, this was a false alarm and she did have a secret admirer. The best thing to do would be to call in sick and lay low for a few days before she gave her resignation. Maybe, the excuses would buy her some time to figure out if her family had caught on or not. Dawn's Shelter Clumsily, she climbed down the stairs. The weight of the bag had her slightly off balance. She was trying to hurry, scrambling to think of a place she could hide out until she determined exactly what was going on. A shadowy figure rounded the front of the garage running toward her. NO! This couldn't be happening. In her panic, she bolted down the slick wooden stairs, pitching forward and falling down them to land on her back in the ice and snow. She screamed as the dark shape towered over her. "Jan!" God, are you all right?" Thomas rushed to help her. He'd run as fast as he could over to her apartment and was panting for breath against the cold air biting at his lungs. He'd seen her fall, rolling down at least half of the stairs and landing hard in the snow. Red stained the ice patch at the bottom of the steps. Her blood seeped from an unseen would somewhere on the back of her head. Stunned, she knocked him away as he knelt to check her over. He'd startled her. But, he hadn't expected her panicked screams. He dodged a fist aimed straight for his jaw "Jan, it's Thomas." "Thomas?" This she could do without. She tried to appear calm. Scrambling to her feet as she batted away his concerned, hovering hands. Hoping he'd ignore her fall and dismiss it as nothing but clumsiness, she dabbed at the blood running down her cheek. The world weaved dizzily around her. She paid her wounds no heed. She'd heal, faster than she was supposed to, faster than a normal person should. And that'd give away her biggest secret of all. The bag swinging heavily on her shoulder, lent a lack of credence to whatever story she'd manage to concoct. "I'm in kind of a hurry." Biting back the throbbing in her left ankle and hiding the gash in her cheek behind her gloved hand, she hobbled to her car. "I can't explain, but I've got to go." "Let me check you over." Thomas reached for her gloved hand only to be abruptly shoved away. She had more strength than he'd given her credit for. He stumbled from the force of her push. Her eyes were wide, darting to the shadows beyond the corners of the garage. Her breath heaved, blowing out plumes of steam. "Jan, is something wrong." "No, I'm a bit stunned from my fall. I'm perfectly fine. I really need to go. I'm sorry. I can't tell you more. But, I can't stay." Jan hobbled down the walk to her car. In a matter of hours, her injuries wouldn't be so bad. She'd heal. She always did. And her miracle healing was the only part of her nature that she didn't mind. "Jan, you're hurt. We should go inside where I can take a closer look at you." Thomas kept his voice low and calm. Hoping to ease the wild and frightened look in her eyes and coax her into going back up to her apartment where it was warm and he could tend to her injuries. Blood was never a good sign. She was somewhat dazed, maybe a little confused. He began to worry she'd hit her head on the stairs when she fell. He wasn't about to let her drive when she could have a concussion. Even if he had to sit on her to hold her down and risk his secret by calling the brothers for help. Jan wasn't going anywhere until he was certain she was ok. "I appreciate your concern. But, I really have to go. I simply don't have time for this" Jan had the door open and her bag stuffed into the back seat. She blinked back the tears. Maybe, Thomas hadn't sent the flowers. But, he really did care for her. His sentiment confirmed what she already knew. He didn't just care. He loved her. She shoved the key in the ignition and got nothing, not even the car's typical grinding complaints. The car's engine was as frozen as the world around her. "Damn it." "Jan, is there something I can do to help?" Thomas asked. She was a mess. Not just physically, but emotionally. Tears dangled from her lashes. The cut on her cheek had stopped bleeding and a purple bruise blossomed beneath a layer of dried, cracking blood. Her braid was damp. Her coat hung askew from her narrow shoulders. Her fingers trembled, clutching the steering wheel. He crouched by the passenger side door he'd opened and eyed the bag she'd hastily tossed in the backseat. He knew the look of someone on the run. And yeah, maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to do to get involved. But, no one had ever accused him of being smart. She hated to ask for help. She hated to rely on anyone or drag him into her mess. But, if she stayed in her apartment, she was as good as found. She didn't have time to wait for that to happen. Thomas would drive her to the bus station. If she couldn't hop a bus tonight, she'd sleep on a bench and be on the first one out in the morning. She didn't have a clue as to what she was going to tell him. How she was going to explain her sudden exodus. "Can you not ask any questions? Because I can't give you any answers." Thomas nodded. He'd agree to anything to get her to calm down enough to trust him to help. Jan was scared out of her wits. And she was running. To, or away, he didn't know. But, one thing was for sure. She had no plans of staying put. "Ok. I don't suppose I can talk you into going back up stairs can I?" "No." "Can you make it to my place?" "Yes." Jan slid out of the car and grabbed the bag. Thomas lived two neighborhoods away, an easy walk when she wasn't injured with a damaged ankle and loaded down with a majority of her meager possessions stuffed into a bag slung across her shoulder. Thomas relieved her of the bag and offered his arm. Reluctantly, she accepted his help and his offer to lift the burden off her shoulders, at least temporarily. Jan was in utter agony by the time she made it to Thomas's front porch steps. Each step sent a new wave of pain shooting across the broken bones in her ankle. And she had no doubt. With the swelling and bruising that her ankle was broken. She wouldn't have made the distance to his house, if he hadn't wrapped an arm around her waist and bore most of the weight for the damaged limb. The blood on her cheek had stopped and was freeze dried into a tacky mess on her face. Panting and breathless, she leaned on the doorjamb as he unlocked the dead bolt and guided her inside. "Close all the drapes and blinds. Make sure the windows and doors are locked." Jan barked orders as she hobbled into the kitchen to drop the vinyl mini blinds over the window above his sink. She couldn't take the chance of being spotted, assuming she already hadn't. Thomas dropped her bag on the living room floor with a solid thump. The wild, frenzied expression in her eyes had him frightened and curious about what had set her off. Roses were just flowers. Nothing much to be afraid of, yet Jan was terrified. He rushed through the house closing curtains and blinds as she'd asked. Double-checking the windows and doors to make sure they were locked tight at her insistence. Jan stood in the kitchen. Leaning heavily on her good leg with her hip planted against the cabinets. Shaking and trembling as she struggled to catch her breath, she gripped the counter. Her coat and sweatshirt were splattered with the tiny drops of dried blood that had rolled down her cheek. He took a deep breath and raked his hand through his hair. Wondering what kind of trouble she was in and what kind of trouble she'd dragged him into along with her. Thomas shrugged out of his coat and kicked off his shoes. Moving slowly. Trying to appear as normal and non-threatening as he could. Gently, he freed her arms of her coat and guided her to a chair. Sitting her down at the kitchen table, he got her a glass of water. He noticed how badly her hands shook as she lifted the glass to her lips and drank it down. He gave Jan a few minutes to settle before he approached her, busying himself in the kitchen by making some tea. Her eyes nervously followed him as he slid the teabags out of the way and reached in the back of the cabinet for a tin of the Shaman's secret blend of herbs. She was petrified, trembling beneath her soiled sweatshirt, past the point of regaining her composure without some help from the herbs. The tea would take the burn out of her wounds and ease the swelling in her ankle, and it would help her to clam down enough to tell him what was going on. Jan was on the verge of hysterics by the time the kettle whistled and Thomas thrust a mug of hot tea into her hands. She was touched by his concern and kindness. He was gentle and kind to her. She tried to compose her thoughts enough to thank him. But, he cut her off, guiding the mug to her lips with his fingertips firmly wrapped around hers. "Drink," Thomas softly commanded. He exhaled in relief when she swallowed down some of the tea. He left her side long enough to get a fresh towel out of the cabinet and wet it under the tap. Noticing the wayward tear that made a clean path down her cheek, he didn't say anything more. He knelt down next to her, gently swabbing the dried blood with the moist end of the towel. "Thomas, don't." Once he cleaned the blood away, she'd have even more explaining to do. She got up to escape to the bathroom. Surely a doctor would have some medical tape and a stray piece of gauze in the cabinet. She'd patch herself up and hide the evidence behind the gauze. He'd never know. "Shh." Thomas gently secured Jan's chin with his fingers. Gingerly, dabbing at the blood. "I've seen worse." And he had. Usually people he saw needed more than a piece of gauze and some antibiotic cream. They needed trauma pads to soak up blood, IV drips, and defibrillators. He frowned as the last layer of crusted blood was swabbed away. He pretended not to notice that the long gash in her cheek had practically healed. He expected raw and exposed edges, and maybe, the need for a few skin sutures to hold the torn pieces of flesh together. The edges of the wound were raw and raised, looking as if the injury were several days old instead of brand new. "It's not so bad," he said softly. He got up and tossed the towel into the laundry room. The questions would wait. Hell, the thoughts running through his mind weren't really questions. Whatever her answers were would just confirm what he'd just figured out. Jan wasn't human. Jan expected Thomas to bombard her with questions. Asking why she'd healed so quickly. Instead, he got on his knees and eased her foot out of her boot. Carefully, with skilled hands, he inspected her damaged ankle. Skin was quick to heal. Bones would heal within a week or so, faster if she changed shape. A normal person would heal within six to eight weeks, maybe more. But, she wasn't normal. She wasn't human. And even though he said nothing. He had to have figured it out. Thomas rolled up her pants leg and peeled off her sock. Gently, evaluating the swelling and range of motion in the joint. He winced when she did, as he rolled her ankle to the right and applied pressure. "Without an x-ray, I can't say for sure. But, I think you broke your ankle." Jan felt a surge of calm, unusual given her circumstances, roll through her body. Thomas had gone through so much trouble and she'd really put him out. Pushing their casual sex relationship well past their established boundaries. Even though, she hadn't particularly cared for the bitter, mint taste of the tea, she drained the cup. She took his outstretched hand and let him pull her onto her wobbly legs. "We need to get that ankle elevated and iced." He glanced over Jan's shoulder, noticing the empty mug that sat on the kitchen table. "I don't suppose I could talk you into going to the ER for x-rays." Jan bit her lip and rested her weight on Thomas's shoulder. "No." She pulled against him as he guided her to the couch. His couch sat in front of a huge bay window. One crack in the curtains and she could be easily spotted. "Too many windows," she said shaking her head. "Ok. You can use my old bedroom. The bed is only a twin. But, it sleeps comfortably enough," he said. Helping Jan hop step into the bedroom he'd converted into a makeshift study and guest room, he kept his questions to himself. Right now, he needed her to focus on healing and trusting him to help get her out of whatever she'd gotten herself into. The dim light of a screen saver illuminated the room. Perfect. She could hop on the Internet and scope out the first bus out of town. The room sported one small window, covered tightly by a pair of tightly pulled shut, thick drapes. Perfect. She sighed gratefully as Thomas gently dropped her onto the twin-sized bed and propped up her foot on a stack of pillows. "I'll be back in a minute." Thomas disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. He'd always suspected Jan was something other than she appeared. He was a fucking paranormal magnet. If it were fanged or furry, it always attached itself to him. The question was...what was she? The cut was healing abnormally fast. And if he had to guess, her ankle would be healed before the end of the week. He hovered in indecision debating on whether to call the brothers or the Pack. Who knew...the fanged and furry had found him. Maybe, she was fey or something else otherworldly. Made sense, to him. Why. The. Hell. Not? The freaky paranormal party never stopped at Thomas Sterling's house of the damned. Jan scrambled onto her good leg and hobbled over to the computer. Thwarted from Internet access by password protection, she made a couple of random attempts to guess his password. Unsuccessfully. Smiling lamely as he came into the room with a bag from the freezer wrapped in a towel, she shrugged and mumbled, "Sorry," as she hobbled over to the bed. "No problem. I'll get you logged in. After you ice that ankle for a while." He urged her onto her back onto and propped up her foot on a pillow. Carefully, wrapping her ankle with a towel, he applied the bag of peas to the swelling. "Peas?" Jan asked. Resting on her elbows as she looked down at his makeshift first aid. "Don't like 'em anyway," Thomas joked half-heartedly. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't want to ask. He didn't want to know. But, he didn't want the next paranormal shit storm to hit land on his front stoop either. "Jan, what's going on?" Jan shook her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." And he wouldn't. Who would? She was a thing of myth and folklore. What was happening to her, what she was, didn't happen to regular people. He'd have her locked up in the psych ward if she so much as breathed one word of the truth. The less he knew, the better. "You'd be surprised what I'd believe." He took her hand and intertwined her fingers through his. God, he hated it when he was right. Just once, he didn't want to be right. What could he say? He was as reluctant to confess to her as she was to him. What would she think of him, if she the truth about him? "Jan, I can keep a secret." "If I don't tell you, you don't have to." Jan slid her fingers free from Thomas's. She'd already asked too much. And she had one more favor to ask of him. "I need a ride to the bus station as soon as it opens in the morning." "Ok. Going on a trip?" Thomas readjusted the thawing bag of peas across her ankle. Given the size of the bag she'd packed and the urgency in which she fled her apartment, and her panic, she was definitely running. And he doubted if her bus itinerary would include a return ticket. "Something like that." Jan winced as his fingers brushed across a particularly sensitive place on her ankle. She found herself wanting to confide in Thomas. But, how could he possibly believe her? She didn't doubt that he could keep secrets. Hers would sound more like a delusional fantasy than fact. "You're not planning on coming back, are you? You're running," Thomas said. Judging the expression on her face, he was right. "I don't have a choice." Jan quavered on spilling the beans and telling him everything. Even if he didn't believe her and she ended up on a locked psych unit. At least if she were there, her fate would be her own. "Yes you do. Give me a try. I can help you." Thomas worried that she was involved in something dangerous and that she was in way over her head. He had contacts. If nothing else, he could use them to get her to someplace safe. "No, Thomas. No you can't. Nobody can." "Why don't you let me be the judge of that? Jan, you can't spend your whole life running. At some point, you're going to have to trust somebody." He scooted closer and pulled a throw over her shoulders. "I suppose you're right about that." Jan scooted up in the bed and leaned against a pillow. She couldn't believe she was about to spill the secret she'd kept bottled up and hidden for her entire life. And that she was bout to share it with her holiday guy. The man she loved and hated with the same white-hot passion. There was no point to lie to herself about how she felt about him, not at this stage in the game. Tomorrow, as soon as the bus pulled out of town. She'd be on it and she'd never see him again anyway. So, her feelings made little difference in the grand scheme of things. Jan took a deep breath and pondered where to start and how much to tell. "Thomas, have you ever heard of eugenics? The hooking up of two people, based on specific genetic attributes?" She went on as Thomas shot her a confused frown. "Thomas, I have a fiancée, a man I've never met and could never love. Yet, I'm supposed to marry him." "Your family expects this of you?" Thomas asked. His fingers wound in the fringed edge of the blanket, twisting the fragile tassels around his knuckles as he thought. No wonder she was running. No wonder, she'd kept him and everyone else at arm's length. She was terrified. "No, Thomas, my family doesn't expect it. They demand it." Jan curled her good leg up under her chin and rested her healed cheek on her knee. "I've never been much for conformity or duty. I don't give a damn about carrying on the family line. I didn't want what they had planned for me. So I ran." "And you're running again." Thomas looked up to meet her eyes. Seeing the truth of his statement echoed inside of their brown depths. "Yes. I have to. Thomas, they've found me. When I realized that it wasn't you who sent the roses. I realized that it had to be them and they sent the flowers as a warning. They're coming for me. I knew my family would spare no expense to find me." She shrugged, "I guess my DNA is worth a lot. "As a firstborn daughter, my die was cast before I drew my first breath. Just as his was when he drew his. Firstborn male to firstborn female, the strongest to the strongest, he was brokered same as me, and the marriage arranged. Neither one of us ever had a choice." "Why? There's more than enough genetic diversity in humanity," Thomas stammered. He couldn't imagine what kind of families would do that to their children. The concept wasn't foreign. Hitler had done the same thing decades ago when he tried to engineer a 'Master Race'. Royal families had arranged marriages for centuries, brokering off their children for position and wealth. But, in this day and age, he could not grasp the concept of it happening or stomach that her family had pushed her to the point where she felt that she had to run away because she had no other choice. "Not in my kind there's not. Thomas." Jan took a deep breath. She was committed to her story. Bound by what she'd already told him, which was way too much, to finish it. "Look at me." She placed her fingers to his cheek and turned his head gently toward her. "I'm not human." Thomas blew out a breath. He believed her, completely. He reached out his fingers and smoothed them along the puckered line on her cheek. Of course, she wasn't human. He was hip deep in the supernatural long before she came along. He was looking for the June Cleaver type. The completely human kind of girl he could take home to mom. Naturally. He was falling for something, someone, that wasn't anymore closely related to him genetically than a frog or a dandelion. "I guessed that." Dawn's Shelter "I'm a lycanthrope. A werewolf." She winced and looked away expecting Thomas to laugh or call the boys in the white coats and to haul her off. His silence. His acceptance of what she said as the absolute truth stunned her. "Can you keep a secret?" Thomas asked. He had his suppositions that while she claimed to be, and probably was a werewolf. She was not of the same genetic line as the wolves he was used to dealing with. She shared some similarities, the dark hair and russet skin. But, she was lacking the characteristic high cheekbones, arched nose, of the people he was acquainted with. She may be like Gina, Hunter's wife, a werewolf genetically. But, distant enough from her original genetic pool to erase the physical resemblances she shared with her long lost distant relation. Meeting Hunter and his family would give Jan someplace safe to stay. It could also provide her family with the genetic diversity they so desperately needed. Not only making the future safe for Jan, but all other firstborns to come. "I think so," Jan answered. Arching her eyebrows, she waited for him to explain. She was not sure of where Thomas was headed with this conversation. "I know someone who can help you." Thomas was almost eager as he dug for the cell phone in his hip pocket. One call and he could get the show on the road. Help her in ways she or even he could not imagine. There were other secrets. Secrets and lives that depended on his keeping of their secret, he had to protect and could not share. Despite the fact that she'd trusted him with hers. The secrets weren't his to divulge. "There isn't anybody. I have to disappear. I won't go back. I have to leave town as soon as possible." "No, you don't. Jan, you are not as alone or nearly as helpless as you think. You've already trusted me once. Can't you make it twice? The way I see it. You've got nothing to lose by sticking around till morning." "Nothing but my freedom. Thomas, if they come for me... I can't protect you." Jan knew what she was. She'd received the markings on her eighteenth birthday. Forced into it. Forced into her first shift. But, she refused to allow it to happen again. Going away to school had kept her free from the pull of the wolf. She'd never forgotten how to give her body over. She simply refused to do so. And didn't know if she could give her body over to her wolf now, if she had to. Her mother only had to prove that her daughter could shift, once Jan had, the only thing that interested her mother was marrying her off. "I'm not asking you to." He flipped open his cell phone and pushed speed dial, waiting for someone to pick up. "I'm only asking you to trust me." "Fine." Jan settled back on the pillows. Wanting to believe that Thomas knew what he was talking about and that he had an idea of how to help her. She wanted to believe. She really did. Chapter 5 Kacie ended the call with a curse. She'd been on the phone for over an hour giving report and getting not so much as a word of thanks. Only her mother barking more orders as she made ridiculous demand Kacie didn't have a hope in hell of fulfilling. Bring Jan home, now. Sure. No problem, Mommy Dearest. What was she supposed to do? Yank Jan out of her apartment by her ponytail and drag her back to Texas? Kacie knew what her mother's answer would be to that question. So, she hadn't bothered to ask. If that's what it took to get Jan home, yes. Was the bitch even relieved that Jan was safe and alive? Yes, of course she was. Because her mother's precious genetic line was still intact. Not because she actually cared about Jan or her, for that matter. After Jan was back where she belonged and doing what she was supposed to do, Kacie was so gone. She slid her arms into her parka and slammed the hotel room door shut with a loud satisfying bang. Stomping out into the blasted cold, she steeled her determination. Time to let dear sis know that she was in town. She cranked the Honda's engine over. In this cold, it took a couple of tries before the engine clattered to life. She sat rubbing her gloved hands together as the windows defrosted and the heater warmed the car. Kacie couldn't blame her mother for being the way she was. There was a lot at stake and perhaps, too much riding on Jan. She should just tell her mother that if she wanted Jan she should come up here with her precious omegas and get her herself. Her mom was not the queen of subtlety though. And the omegas, men with necks and biceps thick as tree stumps, unwaveringly followed her mother's every command. Kacie had to believe that somewhere in all those muscles and blind loyalty was a heart and a mind capable of independent thought. They wouldn't hurt Jan. Her mother would never allow her prize to be permanently damaged. But, they weren't exactly kings of gentleness either. This place was a paranormal hot bed of tingling magic and deep secrets. Kacie had not discovered the source. But, the power sizzling over her skin was not dark. It was light, as light as air. And for some reason, the sensation of it felt like coming home after a long journey away. This was the last place she wanted her mother. Whatever the source of this energy and magic of such lightness and welcoming, her mother didn't need to know about it. Acquisition was another cruelty of their world. And Kacie would never risk this peace and light energy to her mother's ambition. Her mother and her father were firstborns. Paired and mated. Charged with the business of producing heirs. Jan was supposed to be a boy. A firstborn male who would take over and lead the pack and when a girl popped out instead, her mother was considered a failure. When another baby wasn't conceived right after Jan was born and Kacie didn't come along till six years later and she was a girl at that. She was another strike against her mother. When no more children followed behind Kacie, her father left. Declaring that her mother was an unfit mate. Nobody had seen him since. She didn't hold her mother's perpetual bitchiness against her. The woman had been forced into marriage. Forced into having children. And forced into raising children that she didn't want and living with a man she didn't love. Jan and her superior genetics were the only card her mother had to play. Luckily, she'd played the card very well. Securing her position and the very lives of her pack with that ace up her sleeve. When Jan had run off and her mother hadn't been able to produce her. She'd placed all of them in danger. Jan had to do what she was supposed to do, whether she wanted to or not. Kacie wound through the frozen streets and parked the car a block away from Jan's apartment. Hiking the distance in between. There was a light on in the living room and Jan's beat up car was in the driveway. Good signs. The neighborhood was quiet. The little families bedded down for the night. Good. There wouldn't be any witnesses when she hauled Jan down the stairs and stuffed her in the car. Kacie huddled down into her parka and picked her way across the icy walkway. Her nose picked up the scent of fresh blood as she got closer to the stairway. At the foot of the stairs was the source of the scent. A small, frozen, rusty red puddle stained the snow. The blood was Jan's. Kacie bolted up the stairs and pounded on the door. When nobody answered, worry became panic and she kicked the door in with the solid sole of her boot. She searched the apartment. The roses that she'd sent her sister as a peace offering littered the floor in heap of red petals, leafy bits, and shattered crystal. Drawers hung empty. Vacant hangers swung on the closet rod. Her sister was gone. And apparently, she'd left in a hurry. "Shit!" Kacie hissed under her breath. She'd pissed away the last year of her life trying to find her sister. She'd never have the kind of luck it took to find her twice. Jan couldn't have gotten that far. Her car was in the driveway and she was injured. She had to be someplace close by. Unlike Jan, Kacie had been eager to embrace the wolf that shared her skin. She had the wolf's heightened senses. But, she was not a good enough tracker to follow her sister's trail in her human form. Her wolf would be able to scent her sister. There was still a chance to find Jan before it was too late. Kacie couldn't go back to Texas empty handed. She stood in Jan's living room and stripped. There was a surge of pain and magic as she gave her body over to her wolf. Waves of energy rippled along her bare skin as she unleashed the ancient power. Flesh peeled away and yielded to a thick layer of plush walnut colored fur. Hands and feet molded into paws, nails shaped into claws. Her face elongated, making room for a powerful set of jaws and two rows of sharp teeth. Bone shortened and thickened, muscle bunched and was torn away, reformed into powerful bands of tendon and sinew. Shaking loose her fur, the wolf steadied herself on four legs. She knew what to do. Trotting out the open door, sniffing and following the imperceptible trail of scent and randomly scattered droplets of blood. Patrick ducked deeper into the shadows. Sheltered in between two of the row of tightly packed houses lining the neighborhood street. He hated it when he was right. Something was off about Jan, way off. He'd been out on patrol and witnessed the exchange in the driveway and he had stuck around, just out of curiosity. His night vision wasn't infallible. But, when a woman, a younger version of Jan had shown up and kicked in the apartment door. In she went, and out came a wolf, he knew his suspicions were right on track. He kept his distance. Stalking through back yards and over privacy fences. Trekking on silent feet over the soft snow, following the wolf to see where it was she went. This wasn't one of the wolves he was used to dealing with or smelling, for that matter. She didn't smell the same as the Pack. She had the same powerful set of jaws and graceful, stealthy way of moving. But, she was different. Her magic, the raw, primal, ancient source that made her what she was, felt different on his skin. Patrick didn't waste time thinking about calling for back up when the wolf tracked a scent trail up to Thomas's front door. Thomas and Jan were holed up inside like two of the three little pigs. And who knew, if this wolf would huff and puff and blow their house down. Patrick couldn't have been happier when the wolf, paused to leave a puddle of yellow in the snow that had drifted over the front stoop and trotted off into the night. Leaving her scent behind. He for one was glad that he wasn't a werewolf. On a night like tonight, he'd freeze his tail off, if he had one. His body temperature was decidedly lower than that of his distant cousins. He barely noticed the wind chill or the bitterly cold breeze gusting down from due north. He wasn't surprised when the wolf skulked through the shadows and ended up where she had started out. And even less surprised when a female emerged fully dressed and jerked closed the door behind her. She lifted her head, scenting the wind and stared into the shadows. He thought for a minute his hiding place had been discovered. Instead of confronting him though she jogged down the slippery sidewalk to her car a block away. Chapter 6 Nash guided the SUV along the narrow side streets to Thomas's house. Carefully following the directions he'd been given. Tristen rode shotgun. Grinning eagerly at the chance for a little excitement. Thomas's phone call was vague. He'd only given hint that he had a 'situation' and needed Nash to come over right away. What the 'situation' was, Nash didn't have a clue. But, it'd better be good, given the fact that he'd given up his favorite easy chair for the drive into town. He parked in the driveway and climbed out. Tristen bounced out of the passenger side, sniffing the cold night air. Picking up the scents that Nash had detected the minute they rolled into the neighborhood. Vampires. What were they doing here? Positioned around Thomas's house posting guard. "Dane." He nodded his head in a bow as the brotherhood's Prime appeared out of the shadows. "Nash," Dane reciprocated the greeting. "Are you missing one of your pack?" "No. We don't venture into town in our wolf forms." Nash's eyes locked onto the paw prints tracking through the snow. "Too easy to be spotted." The prints were deep and large. Could be a dog, a very big and heavy dog. He followed the prints to the front stoop where the animal had left its calling card. Kneeling to catch a better whiff of the fresh scent and soiling the snow, he knew right away they weren't tracking any dog. The scent was a blend of wolf and human. But, the scent wasn't familiar and it wasn't from one of his. He let his nose do its thing. The scent belonged to a female and definitely not one of his pack. He knew the scents of his own. There was another scent, muted and coming from the house. Another wolf, a latent wolf, and of course, he smelled Thomas and the acrid aroma of worry mixed with fear. "Perhaps, we should go inside." Dane tipped his head subtly. Gesturing to the guard he'd posted around the periphery, he nodded, "That's a good idea." Patrick was on the woman, the she-wolf. Or whatever she was. Tracking her. John Mark was across the street perched on a rooftop. Will was directly above them, impersonating a bird, a huge blackbird, hanging out in the highest branches of a tall oak, well out of sight. Thomas jumped up at the soft knock on his front door. "That'll be my... I mean our friends." He smiled reassuringly at Jan. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine." Jan wished she had Thomas's optimism. Everything was not going to be fine. Ever. At least until she was well past breeding age, in another twenty years or so, then, she'd be safe. She listened in as male voices exchanged a greeting. Cringing as the heavy sound of boots stomped up the hallway toward her room. "Jan, I'd like for you to meet my friends." Thomas said, leading the men into the bedroom. "This is Nash, Dane, and Tristen. They're here to help." Jan looked up at the men. They looked like a miniature swat team. Nash had weatherworn, bronzed skin, engraved by deep wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and eyes. A furrowed, worry line ran across his forehead, made all the deeper as he met her eyes. His long salt and pepper hair was pulled back into a tight braid across his back. She huddled on the bed wishing she were anywhere else but here. His was the magic she borrowed. And this close and personal, tasting it on the tip of her tongue and feeling the burn of power on her skin, she had no doubt that this man, so seemingly human was a wolf and a very powerful wolf, perhaps an alpha, at that. Dane was tall, built like a tank, clad in black leather and armed to the teeth with an assortment of daggers and blades. His black hair was styled in spikes not doing a thing to soften the hard chiseled planes of his face or the intensity of his brown eyes. Her skin crawled as his dark eyes took in everything around him. His power was different, more subtle and cooler without the heated tingle of wolf magic. But, there was no missing his aura of authority. He too, was an alpha, just of a different kind. Though he was not wolf, he wasn't human either. Tristen was younger than the other two, not just chronologically. He didn't possess the battle weary expression of the other two men. Theirs was an aura of men that had seen too much and had taken their fair share of losses. Tristen's was one of youthful enthusiasm and eagerness. Clad in jeans and a brown canvas jacket, he was tall and lanky, not quite filled out into his full-grown body yet. His brown eyes twinkled with unassuming friendliness and excitement for life. His dark hair hung loosely around his angular jaw. And instead of the curious, cautious trepidation the other two men studied her with, he could barely contain himself when it came to her, the new stranger in town. Jan meekly said, "Hi," as she huddled down onto the mattress. She rarely used her other senses, often denying or doubting the information they relayed. These men, their scents weren't right. The men looked human, but their scents were not that of an ordinary human. They smelled of woods and wild, a combination of beast and man. Dane's scent really tipped her radar and sent alarm bells ringing in her head. He smelled sweet, beneath the undertone of pine and wilderness that clung to his skin. He was something else entirely. Something...other she hadn't known existed. She'd caught the strange smell in town...here and there, and hadn't paid it any attention. She just assumed her nose was wrong. "What are you?" she asked, pinning him with a wide-eyed look. Nash looked down at the frightened woman with her eyes as round as quarters. Detecting the subtle difference in her scent, he wrinkled his nose. She didn't bear the scent markings so similar to his Pack. She lacked certain physical characteristics as well. But, so had Gina with her green eyes and pale skin. Obviously, the woman had a touch of Native American in her DNA. But, without the high cheekbones and russet hue to her tanned skin it was impossible to tell what else had been thrown into the mix or how far removed from the original family line she actually was. Weak power leaked from her only to be squashed behind her mock humanity. She was wolf...and she knew it. She just chose to hide the truth of what she was behind an almost completely human exterior. Gina hadn't known what her DNA housed. And whether this small, terrified woman embraced her wolf or not. He was certain he'd found another lost child to bring back into the fold. "We could ask you the same thing," he said. Nash was not a man to waste time with subtlety. Too many lives depended on him to worry about niceties. The woman was a wolf and he needed to know where it was she came from and if there were others like her in his territory. He already knew the answer to that question though. There was at least one more wolf besides this frightened woman on his lands. His was a peaceful pack. They searched for lost children in an attempt to bring them home where they belonged. But, this woman was no stray. She knew too much. Much more than what she let on. And if he was about to fight to keep what was his, he needed to garner her cooperation. He'd always assumed that his was the only organized pack. His scouts had spent almost two centuries seeking out the lost children. And other than a handful of strays they accidentally happened across. Of another pack as large or possibly larger than his, not a trace had ever been found. Nash didn't use his alpha power often. He didn't enjoy taking away free will and choice. Just because he could didn't give him the right to do it. But, when it came to defending his home and his family, he would do anything necessary to protect them including unleashing his alpha. Jan snapped her jaw shut. How had he been able to pick up on her scent? How had he known? Given that she didn't shift, the scent of her wilder side was barely perceptible to those of her kind, and not to humans at all. His question confirmed her suspicions. She'd never searched out any of her kind. She borrowed their magic. But, she ignored the source. She shouldn't have. And how she'd gotten lucky enough to avoid their radar was nothing short of a miracle. There was another pack nearby. She should have guessed it by the tingling sting of his powerful aura and the taste of wolf on her tongue. The man she'd asked the question of stood stoically in the background. There was something unnerving about the way Dane tracked her with his eyes. It was as if he could see straight through her, right down to the blood pulsing through her veins. He moved with a fluid grace he was unable to mask by his human face. Whatever he was, he wasn't wolf, and he was not a man to be toyed with or dismissed lightly. Thomas was the only human in the room. And with the kind of company he kept, she had to wonder if she was one hundred percent certain of that or not.